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  1. Re: My tale of fifteen years of DXM abuse... ...and looking for advice like everyone

    Hi. I thought I'd post a reply after such an extended hiatus from the thread/forums.

    SWIM has had mixed success in the last three years. SWIM went to NA 2-3 times a week for all of 2010, but found it didn't help him. It in fact sometimes made things worse, because the subject matter would leave SWIM in intense cravings after each meeting, and sometimes would even relapse from it (although it's hard to say if it really caused a relapse, as SWIM may have relapsed anyway).

    SWIM has adopted a few new things to keep him busy. He took over the kitchen in the 4-person household, keeping it spotless every day and cooking things all the time. After a while, he started becoming solely responsible for every night's dinner, and he also made tons of sweet stuff (apple pies, blueberry pies, peach pies, banana breads, pound cakes, banana puddings, fudge, a bewildering array of cookies, a cornucopia of cakes). SWIM makes lasagna, meatloaf, minestrone soup, chicken pot pie, italian sausage quiche, pot roast, roast chickens, chili, etc. To SWIM's surprise nearly all of the food was wonderful. Cooking was like casting a magic spell, and if he wanted some double-fudge scratch brownies to appear, he only had to look up in his spellbook how to create it. It's something that SWIM should probably try to monetize in some manner, but he's too timid, naive and apathetic. It's easy to avoid anything that might cause stress or change, so SWIM avoids.

    SWIM began looking into spirituality. Don't get him wrong, he is not religious, and is in fact still an atheist, but he began looking into inward growth, including meditation. He did really well at this for about a year and a half, but lately it has been declining.

    SWIM is 35 now. He still has not gone back to school, or gotten a driver's license, or found any sort of job, or moved out from his parents, or anything like that. He still stays at home almost all the time. He never goes out with friends (of which he only has 3, with 1 being very recent). He doesn't make any money. He still has no insurance. He is highly dependent on his parents. His brother just moved out after living with SWIM for the last 12 years or so, and his brother was SWIM's only source of cannabis, which SWIM had been using every day for fifteen years or so. This recent change of no cannabis is highly stressful but he supposes it will pass.

    SWIM still struggled with relapses of DXM use from 2009-2011. He usually would relapse every 4-6 weeks, buying 3-4 bottles of 4oz cough syrup, drinking 2, then waiting 4 hours and drinking 1-2. Either that or 700mg coughgels, wait four hours and take 500mg more. He would be up all that night and all the next day, and it was, of course, obvious to everyone. He couldn't hide it. But he wouldn't get a lot of the effects. At low doses (for him; 4-500mg) he wouldn't get much of a reaction from it at all. Regardless of the dosage, he hadn't had the "robo walk" in many years (except the one time after not using DXM for 2 years in 2009). SWIM's tolerance falls very slowly, over years, apparently. SWIM was then somehow able to resist doing it again for another month or so, even if it seemed impossible and he suffered.

    Depression, anxiety and cravings have remained in place on a daily basis. SWIM thought he would eventually go out of his mind. There were many nights where he struggled and was in pain a lot. The pain is just the cravings, which have bloomed to such a degree over the last few years that it is often indistinguishable from what feels like an internal chemical burn all over his insides.

    SWIM's parents struggled with him a lot, because SWIM couldn't stop using occasionally because the pain never went away. SWIM's parents cracked down even more on loose change or any other way SWIM could get money. SWIM never broke down and pawned anything or anything like that (although he sold lots of his own stuff on ebay for DXM money and also sold some of his brother's magic cards without permission), but he would sometimes "borrow" a credit card and spend $20 on DXM then give it (the card) back. This became no longer possible as his parents plugged one hole after another. SWIM made pocket change doing spare work online like freelance editing, opinion surveys and mechanical turk (he moved from all these to a place called textbroker). He was ordering DXM online and getting it in the mail. After that relapse, he had to give his mailbox key to his parents for a year and so couldn't do that anymore (he thought about getting a P.O. Box but didn'tl; very little money and no way to drive to the post office). He was no longer able to do the family's grocery shopping alone anymore (he would walk up to the supermarket and have a parent come pick him up when he had bought everything for the coming week's menu; he lost this privilege because of buying DXM). Eventually SWIM felt forced to just steal it from the local supermarket when he could no longer stand fighting the cravings. This worried his parents even more. He often stole it in a very careless manner, not really caring if anyone in the store saw him do it - because he was so desperate - but no one ever did.

    It got to where SWIM's parents looked into a rehabilitation program that was mainly for the homeless; it was a six-month program focused on daily manual work in a warehouse for room and board. SWIM's parents wanted him to do it, so SWIM and his dad packed up SWIM's necessities and took him downtown to the center. After having to take a breathalyzer to walk in through the front door, SWIM saw one of the admitting advisers. The woman couldn't believe SWIM's story (mainly that he hadn't worked in 10 years previously, had some back problems and probably couldn't work in a warehouse all day). The woman was accusatory toward SWIM's dad, saying that he was enabling SWIM by not kicking SWIM out of his house. She said that the program was not for SWIM. It was a big relief for him because he thought it would be a horrible experience and tantamount to his dad dropping him off on a street corner and wishing him luck, or something. It wasn't quite that stark but SWIM was afraid he was being abandoned. It scared him for a while and stopped him from relapsing for a couple of months, but he started doing DXM again.

    SWIM's parents looked into outpatient programs and etc but did not get enrolled in any. He also looked into suboxone but no doctor thought he needed it, yet they would give him nothing to help control cravings or pain. They did try gabapentin, which helped SWIM at first (first couple of weeks) then was forced to switch to a generic and it didn't help anymore, so he was taken off of it. He was on and off more anti-depressants and anti-psychotic (he is not psychotic, but prescribed to him for off-label use) like depakote and seroquel, which he thought were absolutely horrible. They put him on amitriptyline to control his sleep schedule, and he is still on a high nightly dose of it and can't sleep without it (now on for 2 years). They put him on Wellbutrin, even though his anxiety was already high, and it made it worse (he is still on it, due to constant changes of doctors that aren't his fault since he is tied up into the state-funded care system).

    SWIM began seeing a therapist at the local health clinic (not a psychologist or anything, just a non-licensed type therapist). While he never got to see the therapist often enough (every 2 months or so) it seemed to help him vent. He was able to tell the therapist about one of the big things that has put SWIM into his addiction, something he couldn't or shouldn't ever tell anyone (not even here), and it was okay; the therapist sympathized/accepted what he had to say. He stopped seeing him in the last few months, but mainly because things have been so busy for SWIM; his brother was married in April, and ever since then, there's been one thing after another for him to do (which is good) but it made him put off seeing his therapist more (which isn't so good). Things have settled down, but he has been going downhill for a while now. Not that his daily life has been any good, but it had not been quite as bad as it had been, and now things seem to be dropping even more for him. Yet, the only reason things had gotten any better to begin with was because SWIM found out about kratom last year (see below). If not for that, SWIM would surely still be relapsing.

    In August of 2011, SWIM finally found kratom. He had gotten his mailbox key back and he began ordering kratom and using it on a daily basis. It was the only thing so far that had helped to any significant degree, after trying many other things. He did not tell his parents, and bought the kratom on credit. He managed to stall many of the bills and continue to use kratom daily. He still uses it now and thinks it has helped him a lot, even though it has also slowed his growth somewhat by making him comfortable, and has made him dependent on it 3 times a day. He somehow now has $1000 in debt that his parents don't know about, and the day is coming soon where he is going to have to tell them that he has been on it for over a year now (when the bills become undeniable). This has led to a lot of additional anxiety.

    SWIM thinks his parents might let him still use kratom (because they are willing to do almost anything to help him recover) but he is afraid they won't, so he has resisted telling them.

    SWIM is still struggling daily with DXM cravings. He has not had DXM in 12 months - the exact amount of time that he has been on kratom, and it's no coincidence. He relapsed about 4 weeks ago, but vomited before the DXM really affected him. From this one relapse he got a horrible tooth infection but managed to avoid going to the dentist and he recovered from it. His mouth had been doing great for all of this year until that. He did not tell his parents about this relapse, though.

    SWIM really wants to do DXM again but can't. He thinks the magic might even be back somewhat after a year without it; From 2007-2009 he went without DXM (instead he was eating poppy pods daily), and the magic returned for the first six trips or so then disappeared again. He finds it incredibly depressing that the life he had with DXM when he was in his late teens/early 20s is something that he won't ever have again. He can no longer force himself to forget his worries, and instead his problems continue to stare him in the face. He can't escape anymore.

    His neurological stress and pain has subsided somewhat in the last year because of kratom and not using, but his anxiety and depression levels have remained high. He was doing well for most of this year until the last couple of months. His brother has gotten married and moved out and it's a lot of stress for SWIM. Right now SWIM is in a kind of limbo; no one is forcing him to go out, to get a job, to be pro-active, and he doesn't do it. He still makes dinner every day and spends a lot of time in the kitchen and with his spiritual stuff, but lately his apathy has become overwhelming and he has been doing the minimum possible to get by. he has been sleeping in more, staying up later every night, and feels that he has backslid a bit. He has a tolerance to kratom and can't stop using it for even a couple of days to get the tolerance back down. Things have been mounting up against him somewhat, but he's still trying to stand back up again and not get too discouraged.

    Because SWIM hasn't had a relapse in a year and his parents don't know about kratom, they have given him back some privileges. He gets to go shopping at the supermarket every week with a debit card. Because the grocery bill tends to be close to two hundred dollars for the family's meals, and no one checks the receipt afterward, SWIM could easily start buying DXM again and stashing it, but he has not. He walks down the cough syrup aisle almost every time he is in the store, to see if it is on sale, even though SWIM tells himself he wouldn't buy any. SWIM's mom leaves her purse out every night now; credit cards and money just lay practically in the open, and SWIM could go and get messed up from it. But SWIM knows that it would be just the one time, and then all of his privileges would be taken away and his parents would be very upset. SWIM still collects change when he can, "just in case," which isn't very smart, either.

Comments

  1. waiting281
    Re: My tale of fifteen years of DXM abuse... ...and looking for advice like everyone

    Thank you for sharing your story, I want you to know that this story will probably save the lives of many potential DXM addicts and even addicts or alcoholics in general. SWIM just went through rehab for opiate addiction, and has found that DXM is extremely difficult not to start using again, given its availability.

    The pain you went through is unimaginable, but please know that by taking the time to record your story, you are saving others from incalculable amounts of suffering, and I am grateful beyond words that I read what you wrote! Please try to find happiness in life, my thoughts go out to you friend.
  2. Adventureland
    Re: My tale of fifteen years of DXM abuse... ...and looking for advice like everyone

    Amazing story thank you so much for posting. It's so real.
  3. Steppenhorse
    Re: My tale of fifteen years of DXM abuse... ...and looking for advice like everyone

    Shit, man, this is a horrible tale! Your friend surely has been through awful times! I'm sure I speak for everybody when I say we wish you him best outcome and that he keeps up the effort not to slip to the other side. He can always come here for friendly hands to help him get back up. But in the end it's up to himto not stay down!
    This journal will serve as a help and warning for every user in his steps. And a reminder for the author, too.

    Good luck and take care!
  4. stormbringer
    Re: My tale of fifteen years of DXM abuse... ...and looking for advice like everyone

    Alcohol is BAAAD idea. One drug that is known to cause deep dependence by permanent brain re-wiring and damage. The Reason why AA was started before NA? Also, Narcs are not really that difficult to detox from Meds like Clonidine and light treatment with benzos help ease the pain tremendously> I was given Norco (a high Hydrocodone 7mg/and low APAP 300 mg pills, then Roxanol Oral Morphine, Oxycodone/oxycontin, finally Hydromorphone for twelve years because of a suspected and very painful cancer like condition (which made me ian insulin dependent Diabetic).

    Starting with something like 20mg Hydrocodone, by the end of 12 years I was being given 960 mg of Oxycodone/Oxycontin (if there is disbelief at this amount, I could try to post an image of my last Oxycontin 80 mg bottle label Stating quantity as 360 to be taken 4 tabs TDS) + 2mg Alprazolam, 300 Mg Venlafaxine and god knows what else. The funny thing is since the blasted doctor introduced it to me to higher doses gradually so I never ever tripped on it except one afternoon , some ten years ago when I double dosed myself accidently and kept wondering why I was so willing to do do inane/mundane networking chores at my workplace which I so hated doing usually.

    Thankfully I did not make the connection then and as my tolerance built up, so did my ignorance and wonder at how exactly do people get high/dependent on this stuff. About three years ago my pains grew lesser and I thought i did not need these med anymore and stopped cold turkey. I nearly died and spent some very traumatic days in the emergency/ICU. The idiot Doctors, decided that I need to continue my meds tsk-tsked me for stopping them and I swore never to come off them cause I would die if I did,off course.

    Meanwhile, one day my brother (a Doctor, a Neurotic I call him that cause he is a neurosurgeon ) came visiting and commented that the amount of oxycodone I was taking would be enough to kill a herd of elephants. Hearing him lecture on the subject, my wife, bless her, got busy and took me to another doctor. Then another. They uniformly told me I could die cause of CMS depression etc. etc. But, even though not in pain anymore, I kept the facade up and continued for the next few years. Meanwhile, though I was not tripping, I was passing some very rigorous psychiatric examination meant to weed out probable drug seekers/dependents etc.
    So all was well, I was sure I was going to live long...but prosper or be happy? No, I was noticing that I was less physically capable, less happy, less interested in anything and generally pissing my wife and kids off.

    Now before my wife divorced me and took the children with her, I had a lucky break. I had developed some kind of ectopic beats (the milder form of the heart symptom so excellently described by tyrus568 and was taken to to the emergency. While there, the young intern would not let me take my meds due to possibility of reduced blood pressure and complications if I had a CNS issue. I told her I was going to die shortly and surely 'cause it had been something like seven hours since my last dose and I was beginning to feel the onset of what, surely must be death throes. She laughed at me and made me swallow a couple of pills. Amazingly, I was not only alive after a couple of hours but did not feel like I was going to die anytime soon.

    Cutting to the chase, I told above mentioned intern about my experience and demanded to know what magic substitute for oxycontin had she given me? She mentioned the magic pill clonidine and at my request was happy to prescribe me some and another med called Ativan (which is just a benzo,Lorazepam )I did not have to use it cause I had tons of Alprazolam. I detoxed in 48-72 hours at home. I had no cravings to talk off (wife says I did ask for some oxycontin on the second day but when refused, I simply turned over and went to sleep).The only Pain in the arse was diarrhea as oxycontin severely constipates and when you get used to it and regularize your potty timing, you get diarrhea as the stuff stops binding to the site that controls large intestine movements and your large intestine goes berserk and sort of happily overreacts to to the new found freedom. Loperamide helps greatly. No incontinence or anything like that.

    Two weeks later when my Alprazolam was due for refill I did not go for it. Now that shit was a lot more difficult to give up and I had real physical issues like Restless Leg Syndrome, Brain zaps and stuff. But after twelve years of drugs (I had been a teetotaler all my life) I simply had to find out what I was really like now. Guess I really lucked out because, I have come to realize from my experience, others who have a problem and some very great stuff in this site, that Physical dependence is absolutely small potatoes compared to Mental/psychological dependence. That is the area that needs serious research and this information must be disseminated among users who can't quit/are afraid to quit because they have misinterpreted Physical dependence for Psychological dependence. The first one is easy to get out off, I think the second one is the toughie. Getting rid of Physical dependence can much easier and less painful these days. For instance there are those single day detox routine for Narcotic/opiate and a few other drugs where they put you under General Anesthesia and shoot you full of nalaxone or similar stuff and you wake up all detoxified/ no physical withdrawl pains.

    All the best
  5. hayburner
    Re: My tale of fifteen years of DXM abuse... ...and looking for advice like everyone

    i am shocked at how closely this parallels my life
  6. bigfootboy
    Re: My tale of fifteen years of DXM abuse... ...and looking for advice like everyone

    I've tripped off of dxm perhaps one too many times. and perhaps too many times off the wrong medicine, coricidin. i know the terrible dangers of coricidin. If i were to trip again, i'd chose robo gels, it's an extra couple bucks, but shit it's worth it for the nice clean dxm only trip. At one point I felt addicted to dxm and started to cut out my friends just to sit in my room every night and trip on dxm. very sad. depressing. didn't even realize it at the time that i was totally depressed.

    I had what you could say a strong psychological addiction to dxm. generic coricidin was just being sold at the dollar tree- that's right- 16 30mg dxm along w/ 4mg of dangerous bullshit in red pills for a buck! I was buying them from dollar tree...constantly.. DAILY. you have no idea how it feels going into a store every day, seeing the same cashier, buying the same box of fucking pills. sometimes with change like a stupid fiend. awkward. then i saw them got pulled from the shelves in every dollar tree(thank god), first one i saw it vanish at was next to a high school (lol, figures...). but they had generic triple c at walmart for 2 bucks, so thats what I used when i was done

    they never IDed me there at dollar tree, i was 17, and I always got IDed at pharmacies. I'm not a theif either, so stealing was out of the question. basically I liked to stock up on this stupid dollar generic triple c, because it was only a dollar! wow! that's 4 quarters, 10 dimes, 100 pennies, chump change! chump change gets you extremely fucked for the night! Awesome! let's trip balls everynight! bad bad bad..

    At the time, I was in a rut with my ex. dating for 3.5 years, first REAL gf. I lost my feelings for her after about a year and a half, and the last year and a half was literally leading her on to believe we're gonna move in together and shit. I just feel so bad now. I started lying about smoking weed to her. Stupid me, I promised to quit for her for ever when I was just 14. I was a freshmen and all read to change for a girl. then, I uncontrollably started smoking behind her back the summer I turned 16. She was always threatened to break up with me when she found out I smoked. She's never smoked in her life. me being insecure about myself at the time I repeatedly lied to her that I never even smoked, and that I'm a good boyfriend that's staying loyal. Couldn't take it anymore, leading her on like this and having tried various drugs completely behind her back. I had to find a way to escape from this madness going on. hey look, cheap ass dxm! lets do it i dont give a shit anymore.

    I felt like i had to use DXM every night to cope with this. Some nights I only took 8, moved to 10, then 12, and every single morning I felt drained and nights after nights of this I felt liked a zombie. My closest friend would force me to come over to his house, or he would just show up at the window of my room to hang out at night. I found out he knew what was going on and he was seeing if I was on coricidin. 9/10 i was, and he was frustrated with me. He's taken dxm in coricidin( :/ ) plently of times before, but he hasn't done it in a year, when I'm here STILL using them. That just pissed him off and I nearly lost him as a friend. I always lied to him that I never take them. The lies is what I should have never done. He admitted he was preparing to cut me out for good when he knew I actually quit the stuff.

    One night, feeling particularly frustrated and sad, I decided to go hard on these pills. I started with ten, just so It'll fuck me up amazingly. Right as they hit, I pop 8 more. I told myself "Hey a year ago I took 20 triple cs in a day throughout the day and I ended up fine!". (not all at once!) There's my motivation for more. I say fuck it, and take just 6 more. I was for some reason writing down the number of pills on paper on my desk so I would keep track of how much I was taking. I ignorantly did not.

    When suddenly, I realized the trip is EXTREMELY intense and my hears pounding out of my chest. I added up the number of triple c's... 24. 24 at once. This dose no doubt is capable of killing many people at once and send them straight to the hospital. I was scared out of my mind. I'm a pretty big guy, so I felt like I would survive. Thankfully I did.

    When all 24 were in effect, I tripped myself dying right there. Suddenly, laying down randomly in the middle of my room uncontrollably like I was dead, I saw myself in just a white room. It was really bright I couldn't see much. There was depressing piano music like at funeral, nothing happy at all It got louder as things got sadder. then I was showed through a screen my dead body laying in the middle of my room. My door was locked. I saw my mom pounding on my door in the afternoon knowing something's wrong, then I saw my mom and dad break into my room to see their dead son laying there, with boxes of stupid generic one dollar triple cs laying in the trash can. My mom had the most intensely scared face. i saw my parents with the most mortifying look approaching me on the ground. They felt that I was stiff my parents immedietly started sobbing and I saw my brother who is really unemotional started breaking down too. I saw my mom call my sister and tell her I passed away. I saw my girlfriend come over to see me and I saw her crying her eyes out touching my dead face and whispering I love you into my ear

    My girlfriend at the time had an ex boyfriend before me who died from a drug overdose while dating, randomly. And her play-time boyfriend from first grade recently died from taking bad extacy with friends. I felt like I was up next. maybe something about her made guys die from drugs. I don't think anybody knows how that feels when they realize that and they feel like it's just destiny to die that night. I was certain I was going to pass away that night and I was saying my own farewells to the world, I was preparing to release and cross over to the other side.

    I was SO FUCKING HAPPY I woke up the next morning fine laying somewhere random on my floor in my room with my lights on. but still, this night didn't stop me from taking them again the next night. I just kept going and going. this was going on for about 3/4 to half a year

    My little addiction with dxm ended when I finally grew balls to break up with my ex and stop leading her on already. I still used after the break up for a little while. Once I completely recovered from the break-up, I had no desire to take them again. I realized I was depressed and turning to coricidin every single night to blow my mind away and not think about the struggles i'm going through.

    My last huge trip was 2 bottles of robo gels. man, that trip was almost as insane when I nearly died, but I didn't feel at all like I was dying. just fucked up. it was amazing. I went for a fast bike ride around the neighborhood at 1am, smoking cigs in almost full drags, and hot boxing in my broken down junk car with my friend on the side of my house. now that made a fun night. I've taken dxm maybe a few times since then, but honestly, I'm gonna stay away from dxm, pure and dirty. I've had a problem with them once and it could start again.

    And for anyone that wants to dex, stay away from triple c's. absolutely sure everybody here knows this by now.
  7. el duderino
    Re: My tale of fifteen years of DXM abuse... ...and looking for advice like everyone

    Good writing skills and a trove of experiences to draw from....sounds like something could come of all that.
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