Citation: Typhon. "A Life Less Troubled: An Experience with Morphine (exp23103)". Erowid.org. Oct 21, 2006. erowid.org/exp/23103
As you might know I've grown up in a series of drugs experiences. My life is to be fraught with a progression of addictions. Feeding one to kill another. Addictions - either narcotic, sensual or merely psychological that breath from my ego and scream deep within my appetite. I believe that perhaps that many of my problems lie within my lack of reason, alas, be that as it may this is a tale of morphine addiction.
I have much experience with Iv drug use yata yata yata.. Done opiates previous to this occasion... yata yata... No real addiction before. This is my first *s*.
So a friend, a known 'junkie', stops by with a couple 100 mg tablets of morphine. He doesn’t have any rigs you see but he knows I have a plethora because I just picked up some up to shot this crazy Ecstasy that I'd been doing. So after a lot of convincing he convinces me and my wife (who has never shot anything before) to do some morphine with him. So we all do a hit; my brother is present also. I did about 65mg on that occasion. 65 glorious mg of one of mans finest creations. Why I wonder does anyone do heroin? This stuff is damn fine and there can never be a problem of purity. I felt a bit nauseous and intimidated because it floored me. I spent the night lying on my bed.
I felt fantastic. I was really really really opiated. I loved it. I had been taking E's every few days for a couple weeks previous to this defiling of self so the night spent in a 'nod' was quite a change from the senseless business of an ecstasy binge. I couldn't see a habit forming though because. I mean I couldn't really get up for about 8 hours after the injection. I can't live like that.
So I decided that morphine is great but just not really something I have time for. I like to paint, and write, and walk, and live.. who has time for that? So I didn't do any more for about a month. Then my main supplier of chemical recreations procured a large supply of 30mg morphine pills. So of course being the lover of narcotics that I am, I bought the majority of his stash. Needless to say. I didn't want to do nearly as much as I did that first night so... it's 11 in the morning and I'm just itching. I mean with those pills in the sight and a rig just around the corning.
So I think, maybe do a third of a pill or so first. try that out. So I go about my way. juice up about 10 mg and blam. Paradise. I was greeted with such a pleasant rush of warmth and love that only a junkie can know. The rush seemed to last as long as that first one but it was much more pleasant. Not as intense. I liked it. And when the euphoria faded away it left a nice weightlessness almost to my body. I coasted through the day with a high like no other. Beauty.
So now it's about 8pm. My wife wants to do a hit so I give her 20 mg and take another 20 or so for myself. Fire. The rush hit me harder and faster. Almost nauseating but definately sedating. After the rush I was too high to really wanna go to far so I just chilled in my chair, smoked a bit of pot through-out the remainder of the evening but nothing spectacular. I liked it but learned that doses add up quickly. Good lesson to learn early.
So through-out the next week or so I did at least 30mg a day, no more then 2 hits, but no less then 30mg, some days I did 2 30's... no problem I thought... Then something came I never expected. Something terrible happened in reality that left me feeling empty and hollow. I was upset my wife found me wondering the streets sobbing and hollering about justice. I felt barred and beaten she produced some marijuana but I had stronger things in mind. At that moment I knew I was starring addiction in the eye.
I had already about 40mg crushed up ready to go. My hands were shaking, my eyes swollen and raw as I geared up and signed my pact with my heroin. I don't know why but I seemed surprised that immediately I stopped crying and felt as if somehow, it could be alright, somehow. this whole thing will just blow over and I'll be left standing.
And that was true... I was left standing. Leaning hard on a cane of opiates and valium. I think know I can stop but I hear voices softly whispering such words as 'sickness' and 'relapse'.... I get itchy... but I don't need it. I can go without it... but I know I want it. I can feel it calling. and I know that she can make it all go away... I just pray that I never have that need.
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