Citation: Sydd. "Such a Perfect Day: An Experience with Heroin (exp27706)". Erowid.org. Apr 21, 2006. erowid.org/exp/27706
I've used a lot. at one pont I was slamming 4 or 5 bags in one hit. I've overdosed before, but I was always able to be awakened by yelling or shaking. not this time. I know my tolerance wasn't down, I only skipped days, maybe 2-3 weeks between hits, but it was only 2 days since my last hit, that last hit was 1 and a half bags and I didn't even nod. this was a different brand, but how much difference can half a bag make even between two different brands? apparently a lot.
I took my 2 bags, I cooked them up and I drew them. I hit the vein just like always, same vein, same room in the same house, same works. everything was the same. just like always, I watched the blood enter the syringe, just like always I let go of my tie, just like always I pulled back on the pluger to register, just like a thousand times before I started to push ever so slowly. it was a 1cc syringe, as I had always used, and like always, I puched 0.10cc at a time, registering again every 2-3 graduations. with about .4cc left to go, I began to feel it.
The last thing I remember is thinking, 'holy shit, I better keep myself awake, this is gonna be a strong fucking hit.' next thing I know I am being yelled at by unfamilliar voices, a lot of chaos. I had the sensation of surfacing out of deep water, I could not hear, I could not see, I could not feel. it came back very very gradually and I was not yet coherent enough to realise what had happened. I heard my mother yelling, pissed off. my girlfriend yelling that I would never see my son again. a man demanding to know who I was, what I'd taken, how much, where I got it. I remember, my eyes were still closed and the first words out of my mout were, 'I'm ok.' a man's voice, very angry and irate, 'you are NOT ok, you were unresponsive.'
I opened my eyes and slowly bagan to realise that there were nurses and cops all around me. holy shit. I overdosed and someone found out I was using. 'what's your name?' hesitation I told them my name. 'what did you take?' hesitation. 'heroin.' 'how much?' '2 bags.' 'where did you get it?' I did not respond. everyone got really pissed. the cop insisted. I responded, 'this is my fault. I did this. it doesn't matter where I got it.' 'what if some kid goes down there and buys this stuff and dies? you almost died. if you don't tell me where you got it I'm going to charge you with posession of heroin.
if you tell me we won't charge anyone, we just want to talk to them.' I paused and everyone was screaming at me to tell. 'you'll go to jail, fucking tell him where you got it!' I told him, slowly and reluctantly as I looked away.' at that point they got me up and walked me out to the stretcher and wheeled me into the ambulance. all I could think about was my son. then all I could think was, 'well, that's it. you fucked up. it's over. you're going to jail, no more school, no more baby, no more hoping for a better life. its all over.' then it began to nauseate me how much like the movie Trainspotting the whole situation resembled, in that scene where Renton ODed.
I heard 'Perfect Day' by Lou Reed and 'Sing' by Blur continuouslu for then next several hours. then the real bad shit started once I got to the hospital and my mom and girlfriend came in. I felt so ashamed, so despicible. they knew it and they played on it. I hated myself and wished they hadn't saved me. my girlfriend tells me that when she found me laying on my bed, she thought I was dead. my skin was blue and my lips were purple. no one knows how I am alive right now. I know that the Narcon brought me out of it, but she didn't find me until an hour after I ODed. how did I not die? she asked if I had an experience when I was 'dead'. I said no. I didn't. it was like sleep.
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