The first time I had an opiate I was 17 years old and had meningitis. They prescribed me 60 Vicodin 7.5’s. I needed it for sure it was to date the worst pain I have ever been in. But as I came down to the last 3 pills I realized something important. I loved these things. I love the emotional pain they took away as well as the physical. Lucky for me it was not overwhelming and I did not chase the high. I was just sad after the last one wore off. Now I know about PAWS and how hard it can be on people with chronic depression.
I didn’t have another opiate for 2 years when my wisdom teeth were pulled and man did that hurt. The dentist gave me 4 opioids, I am not even sure what they were and that was that. This did not trigger anything and I went on living life, with long bouts of depression dominating my life.
The next time I used an opiate was 6 years later when I found some codeine in my mom's medicine cabinet and started taking it nightly, until I realized it was for my sister who needed it. To cover up my stealing I put water in it which was just stupid. It changes the color of it to black and is an easy way to find out if someone has been taking your meds. Anyway my mom and sister found out and freaked out on me and I stopped. But it was after that time that I knew I had a problem.
Over the next several years I was prescribed opioids legitimately and I devoured them for the most part. Not like I do now. Now is way worse, but I would have a day or two of just getting high on the stuff by taking 3 or so and then finishing out the prescription as advised by my Doc.
I have never gone to the streets never conned a Doctor never done anything like that. I have stolen them twice from family members. Once I told you about, the second time my second sister had just died of cancer and I was a mess. I found a bottle of my ex step dads xanax and oxy and I took it in stages for some reason. Thinking if I took just a little no one would notice. And since the step dad was gone no one did. My worst experience ever was that night when I took 15mg oxy and one xanax and ended up experimenting with trying to hang myself. And getting angry as hell with my kids and wife for no fucking reason. I hated myself after that day so much that I have never taken another Benzo in my life.
Opioids on the other hand are a dream to me. They make all the bad go away. They are also hell to come off. I was diagnosed with 4 autoimmune diseases over the course of a few years and they hurt so I got pain meds. Tons of them. More than I thought was possible. So for 2 and a half months I took them. It started out that I took them as prescribed then it turned into more and more and more. I was using up to 160mg a day, and then they put me on a new drug that helped and I was cut off cold turkey and it was and is to this day one of the top 5 most awful things I have ever had to go through in life. I would never in a million years recommend cold turkey. Tapper always.
After that hell I got on Prozac and swore off opioids for good. And I was clean for over a year. Even when offered them for legitimate pain I said no and went a different route. Then one day my anxiety and depression hit so hard that I needed something. I went for the first time in my life at the age of 38 and bought alcohol for the first time. It was probably the stupidest decision of my life. My grandpa and dad are both addicts. One is dead and the other is clean and has been for years.
Alcohol tasted like and still does taste like crap, it is horrid. But the way it makes all the pain go away (both physical and mental) was almost pure bliss. Then I experienced hangovers and drank too much being a first time drinker and got alcohol poisoning. I drank 750ml of rum in 3 hours. I woke up on the ground screaming in pain with my wife holding my hand. The diseases I have only exacerbated the problem.
This did not stop me from drinking. It only taught me how to do it right, by eating a lot with it and taking zofran. After a while though it just turns into a nightmare and I quit it for 7 months then started again, then stopped for 3, then back on for 4 and so on.
The main reason for starting and stopping was I would go through procedures for my diseases and I would get opioids. I would start out taking them as prescribed then once again abuse them. I always did and still do all this alone. I do not want my kids or wife to see me this way. So late at night and into the wee hours of the morning I would use and party alone. And I loved it and still do at times.
Then the war on opioids happened and even my free wheeling understanding doctor would not prescribe them to me anymore. She told me she was scared of what the government was doing. And I had no problem with it other than the fact that I was in pain. So I just drank more.
Then things loosened up a bit over this last 4 months and she gave them to me again. I did not ask her, she suggested it for the legitimate pain. So I stupidly took it. Or maybe its not stupid. Why the hell should I be in pain all the time? It sucks. But once again after starting out taking them as prescribed I started to party all by myself with them. And loved it. I learned how to taper properly over the years and at the worst have gone through maybe a day of physical withdrawals and 3 or 4 days of mental bullshit. But that was rare, I usually got off them scott free, but not this last time. I got greedy last week and did not leave enough for a full taper. Now I am here again going through withdrawals again. Doing the same stupid shit again.
Oh and I broke my neck in between all this. A nice chip on the C5. I was told I could take off my brace after 4 weeks and I would heal over the next 4 months. Well I am only 1 ½ months in and it hurts and sucks and getting the Neurologist to get me opioids was impossible. She just flat out told me no. Isn’t the war on opiates going a bit too far when a broken neck won’t get you a script anymore? Luckily my main doc gave my my regular script and I managed off that somewhat well until I used too many again.
I have done this for 4 years now. It is a pattern it is life. It is not helping my depression in the slightest. I finally scheduled an appointment with a psychologist who specializes in working with people with chronic diseases. I am scared to go. A 42 year old man who is scared to go face his fears. I feel like such a worthless failure. But I am doing it and I will let you know how it goes.