Citation: Erikupstairs. "Lady Vicodin: Addiction: An Experience with Hydrocodone (exp23813)". Erowid.org. Jan 15, 2007. erowid.org/exp/23813
January 2003 changed my life. It was this month when I first began using Hydrocodone in the form of Vicodin pills. In the past 12 months, I had been a heavy marijuana user, smoking about three times a day. Back in October of 2002 a friend of mine was in a car accident and to treat his pain, he was prescribed Vicodin. He mentioned it to me, being a fellow user, but he said he didn't enjoy the spaced-out feel it gave him.
Come January of 2003 I find myself again with my car accident friend, we were planning on going to smoke some bud before we did some work, and he brought me apple juice and a bottle of about 20 15mg Vicodin pills. That evening I broke three in half (having read they go into effect faster when broken up) and sat down at my computer and started some programming (website scripting). After about 25 minutes I felt shivers go up and down my body, and it centered in my spine, and did not leave. It was incredible.
I started to stand, but with a bit of dizziness leading to some light nausea. I sat down again, not wanting to damper the high. As the physical sensations slowly grew (comparable to light heroin) I found myself being entirely content with the world. I wanted to reach my arms around the world and give every single person a great big bear hug. As this took place, I began feeling a spaced high, similar to marijuana. Some have described their Hydrocodone experiences as being 'drunk' but I was totally communicable, no slurred tongue. Walking was tough at first because of the dizzy feeling, but it didn't take long to adjust. I fell asleep on my couch, and awoke the next morning feeling beautiful. I felt numb to any bad vibes the world could dish out. I was prepared to tackle my day. That evening I was ready to do it again, which essentially was my head-first dive into a very difficult addiction.
The next two nights went the same. Same dosage of 45mg, same great feelings. I had begun taking Advil with the dose to help prevent the headaches from dizziness, which helped greatly. During these highs I began reading about the addictions of people on Vicodin. I was a bit worried, so I scheduled my remaining pills to have two more three-pill nights, a four-pill night, and then a one-pill, thinking the one-pill night would help me ease off the drug. Oh my naivety.
After that third night of use, I felt great that next morning at school. Same as before. Unfortunately around 3/4 pm I began having pain in my back and shoulders, which could be compared to strong flu body aches. I was afraid I was getting sick, not connecting it to the Vicodin. That night I did my fourth evening of three pills, but my experience was lack-luster. I felt maybe half the happiness and physical sensation as the past few nights. Fear struck me, as I admitted to myself that I was probably screwing myself over for a fantastic fall.
I took a fourth that night, flawing the rest of my week's schedule. The next day in school, the pains began sooner, around 2. It felt like I needed to have my back strongly massaged, but no amount of rubbing helped. I am a high school debator, and that evening I had a debate tournament to participate in. All that day and evening I could not concentrate on anything except the anxiousness I felt for my dosage for that evening. That night when I got home I was having trouble moving because of the severe body pains. They had grown much worse since the nights before.
I dropped six Vic's that night. This experience was perhaps the second pinnacle of my Vicodin usage. I recall almost crying with happiness when I laid the twelve broken pieces of Vicodin on my tongue. Since it was late, I decided just to lay down and let the feeling go. As the high grew, I felt more beauty within than ever before. A rush of warmth and shivers was what sent me on a five minute spontaneous orgasm. This was the perfect drug.
The next morning I awoke and my beautiful morning-state was a bit dampened by the fact that I had only one pill remaining, and I knew the pains would hit sooner and harder today. This worry of course passed, Vicodin leaves no one unhappy :), at least for a time. The one pill remaining looked like a piece of rice when I stared down at it that night. I decided I would snort it, hoping intranasally would be a bit more potent. It was enough to damper my pains that night, and I accepted this, I knew I was out and was ready to end the party.
The next two days are blurs of sleep, strong depression, and severe body pains. I found myself crying at night, for different reasons. Sometimes it was because I wanted lady Vicodin, the only lover I had loved back. Other times it was fear of this hole I had dug myself into. I knew my pain and suffering would only be cured by drugs, and marijuana wasn't doing anything (by the way, that week on vicodin was the first time in the previous YEAR that I had not smoked marijuana). I needed Vicodin, or something harder. I was scared of getting into hard stuff, afraid of getting into a deadly habit I had watched criticized in movies where the dope-fiend ends up in prison or rehab, shunned from their families.
The next Tuesday night I wrote a poem describing my depression and pains. A friend who had just had surgery on her leg informed me that she had an insane amount of Vicodin and would sell me some cheaply. I almost wet myself. Vicodin. Salvation. At last. The next day I purchased 40 pills. I recalculated my dosages for the upcoming week & half. Not being a fool, I figured into account that I would have to increase my dosages every night. Another key thing for planning I did was purchase some lighter muscle relaxants from the same girl, enough for a week, I figured that would be enough time for the pain to dissolve and leave me sober and feeling alright. That week and a half of Vicodin was another dip into the greatest drug on the planet. A comfort only described by Vicodin herself. I made sure not to have any binge nights, staying responsible and keeping to my schedule. The week coming off was very difficult. Not as hard as going cold-turkey, but even with the physical pains dampened, I was still severely depressed. I craved the Vicodin.
To this day, I still become depressed thinking of Vicodin. I still feel the addiction chewing away at my conscience. I have since then decreased my marijuana use, because it is so lacking in what Vicodin had to offer that I just get depressed and lose the fun of the high.
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