Citation: Rattled. "Change for the Better: experience with Oxycodone & Cannabis (ID 65084)". Erowid.org. Nov 15, 2007. erowid.org/exp/65084
I have had many experiences with various drugs in the last three years of my life, mainly I have used cannabis, pharmaceutical opioids (e.g. hydrocodone, codeine, oxycodone and morphine) and benzodiazapines. I was always very much against drugs until a chance experience with hydrocodone after having oral surgery for very badly impacted wisdom teeth. I was fascinated by them and how they not only dulled physical pain but emotional pain. I loved the feeling I got from them and even though I knew of the risks involved with them I used anyways. It seemed the only cure for the things that had haunted me most of my life. I am obsessive compulsive, A.D.D. and severely depressed. Or that is how modern medicine has labeled me. I have seem many psychiatrists and psychologists, been on many ssriís and mood stabilizers and yet not found much relief.
I began to use cannabis when opioids were not available and had my share of profound revelations and frightening experiences with them but none came close to what I am about to describe. I had started to clean up and feel better about myself. I had a job, was in college and had a great girlfriend. I would still use occasionally despite knowing it was in my and everyone elseís best interest to stop for good. I was spending the weekend with my cousin and had purchased some very potent weed and two 80 mg. oxycontin tablets and we were intending on having a ďlast rideď. I had an anxious feeling going into the whole event but foolishly ignored it. Rule number 1. never ignore your gut instinct.
We arrived at the condo and proceeded to scrape the coating of the oxy and chop up eight ten milligram lines. I did one and a half lines and my cousin did one. I felt the intense rush and warm almost sexual feeling as the oxy worked itís magic while at the same time, a sense of unease came over me. I sat in a chair and waited while the drug took itís full effect. I loaded the pipe with a fat pinch of weed and after my second hit, anxiety started to slowly creep up on me. I began to think of how I had been wasting so much of my life, money and energy on drugs. How many peoples trust I had betrayed.
Breathing had become very difficult and my heart was racing. I began to feel flushed and my body tingled everywhere. My OCD induced thoughts seemed to grow even stronger with the weed. It seemed all guilt I had been feeling or that had been repressed deep in my subconscious hit me at once. I knew very well that I had taken a small dose of oxy and that was in no danger of an overdose but that is not what the fear told me. I had many panic attacks before and knew how to deal with them but this one I could not control. With all I tried to reason with myself it would not work. I felt I was dying for sure. I had overdosed. I knew that wasnít true but that didnít matter because the fear had control of me now. My cousin did better than anyone could have to try to talk me down but it was no use. I had a million thoughts racing in my head. What if everyone knew how I really was? What if I were to die because of my self indulgent behavior and escapism? How could I be such a selfish and dishonest human being? There was no end to the bombardment of thoughts. I felt I couldnít breathe. I felt sick.
I ran to the bathroom and vomited. I repeated this many times over the next four hours while for the first time really taking into consideration my drug use and the words of my therapist who said I needed to quit. Quit everything. I prayed for a release from the hell I was in, I prayed I wouldnít have to go back to the psychiatric ward for some of their so called ď help.Ē I laid like this for hours, my body shaking as I held a fetal position fearing my mind was on the breaking point. I wanted life so bad but all I could see was death. My cousin held me and reassured me that there would be an end to it. I would come down, the panic attack would cease, I would survive and I was not losing my mind.
Finally after some four hours I began to feel the fear weaken itís grip. The drugs wear off and my mind began to slow. I felt as if I had come to the end of a great test. A short trip through my vision of hell. A death. A rebirth. I was overwhelmed with a great sense of gratitude for being alive. I felt I been given a second chance at life. I knew that I really hadnít been near physical death that night but I felt that something had died. Part of the old me. The thought of drugs and that lifestyle repulsed me and the one thing that had been my only saving grace from emotional pain in the past, opioids, could not even taken away all the misery I was feeling that night.
All I had wanted was to be held in my girlfriends arms and be told that I would get through this. I realized I didnít need drugs to face and conquer my demons because drugs were part of the demons I was trying to face but I had not yet allowed myself to come and realize that. It has not been long since this has happened and I am now confident that it was a painful but important lesson I needed to learn. I had stayed almost completely clean from drugs and alcohol in the last 5 months but I hadnít really been trying to stay sober for me. I needed to stay sober for me if I really wanted to get clean and face my mental health issues. I can no longer hide behind drugs because it seems that after this experience, I am no longer able to.
I am in outpatient rehab and have amazed my counselor thus far and plan on amazing them more. I, for the first time in my life am ready to drop my old identity of fear, depression and anxiety and find out what the real my is, not the imposter created by my past obsession with the darker side of the mind and spirit. Wish me luck. I wish my best on anyone else who is having similar struggles.
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