Citation: God. "I'm God, and You Are?: An Experience with Oxycodone (exp71289)". Erowid.org. Jul 31, 2018. erowid.org/exp/71289
Because opiate use can lead to significant tolerance (requiring higher doses for the same effects), the dose used by a first time user is significantly smaller than that used by a regular user. It can be extremely dangerous to choose ones dose on the basis of the amount taken by someone else. Overdoses of opiates can be fatal.]
A little bit about me. Iím a 28 year old male, grew up with wealthy parents and went to private schools. I went to a very prestigious U.S. University and straight out of college was hooked up with an amazing job making a little less than a quarter million a year. Iím telling you this just so you can get an idea of how drugs (especially pills) will creep into any lifestyle.
When I was in high school I would smoke pot and drink, we all did, we were those rich kids that you see on TV. We pretty much got away with everything. This would end up getting me into a bad situation because there wasnít anybody there to bail me out when I got into Oxycontin hell. Iíd had past experience with pills too, and I loved them, but I never had a solid connection. That is, I never had a solid connection until one night out at a local 4 star restaurant I frequented a guy I was an acquaintance of offered me a 40mg Oxycontin. I had known that this guy was a cocaine dealer, which is something I never really cared for, and he knew that so he offered me that Oxy and I didnít hesitate.
I took that entire 40 with a liquor drink and that was that. I was hooked. The rest of the night I was like a god. I was in the zone, I had people laughing their asses off at things I was saying, like I was 10 steps ahead of them in their thoughts
The rest of the night I was like a god. I was in the zone, I had people laughing their asses off at things I was saying, like I was 10 steps ahead of them in their thoughts
, and having beautiful women just staring at me like deer in the headlights marveling at my confidence, which was multiplied 100 fold after taking that little orange devil.
I donít know what youíre picturing, but this guy isnít exactly what you would consider to be a drug dealer, he was a high class man that frequented this exclusive restaurant to keep his country club customers high on cocaine while their Stepford wives were out doing whatever the hell they do. The next Friday night I went back up to the guy and asked if he could get me any more of those Oxys, he just smiled (like the devil) and said ďhow many do you need?Ē I just bought 10 of those 40mg for $150. The second they were in my hand I took one and I was back in the zone, I was god, I was untouchable, and I really felt that way in my mind.
Those 10 lasted me about a month and a half. I only took them when I was going out at night and wanted to be in that zone. After these ran out I went back and got 20 the second time, you know, just so they would last a little longer. During this time I was under increased pressure at work so before I knew it I was popping them at work and needless to say, my performance was even better. I was the man! The 20 turned into 50, and then the 50 turned into 100 at a time. Money was no issue and as long as I had my oxy I was in heaven.
The 20 turned into 50, and then the 50 turned into 100 at a time. Money was no issue and as long as I had my oxy I was in heaven.
I would go out at night and practically talk women out of their cloths. I would take them to expensive restaurants and literally wine and dine them. It was really like I was ahead of their thought processes and knew exactly what I needed to say to make them ache for me, and for months on end I pulled this game on countless women. With the oxy I could literally fuck for hours and make women walk like they had been horse back riding the next day. My reputation became exactly that as time went by and I really thought I was some kind of god around town. I was rich, good looking, had so many possessions (which in retrospect mean nothing) and everybody loved me.
It wasnít too long before I started reading on the internet about snorting oxy. The first time I snorted a 40mg line of oxy (even with my tolerance) I knew this was the way to do it. I was kind of mad at myself for not doing this before, like I had been wasting my pills. So now whenever I would get my 100 oxy I would (I swear!!) put them in the blender and make a bowl of pure oxycodone dust, along with a little bit of the binder, and that orange cover, but it made no difference to me. I would fill a container with the dust and then fill my sniffer to the top with it so I could just walk around sniffing Oxycontin all day long.
Mind you nobody (except my dealer) knew that I was hooked on this demon. A little over a year had gone by and I was now snorting somewhere around 350-400mg a day of powder. I knew I was so addicted, but who cares? I can afford it, Iím the man, and Iíll do this forever if I have too! WRONG! About a month later I had about 3000mg of powder left when my I called my guy and he told me his connection had been lost and he couldnít get those anymore. Oh my god, my heart dropped, I literally got sick and knew that my death was right around the corner. I almost started crying.
I called my guy and he told me his connection had been lost and he couldnít get those anymore. Oh my god, my heart dropped, I literally got sick and knew that my death was right around the corner. I almost started crying.
I went home, poured all my powder out on the counter and did a rail, probably in the 250mg range. This could kill a normal person. While flying I knew what I had to do, I knew I had to prepare for the most horrible withdrawals a human could possibly face, the opiate withdrawal. I had read on the internet what this would be like and I was seriously contemplating just killing myself to avoid it.
Well, I didnít kill myself, but I did put in for 1 week of vacation and finished my stash after fucking the shit out one of the many women that was practically in love with me. Then I closed the door to my home and it didnít open for a week.
Day 1- One word for this day and that is anxious, Iím thinking, this isnít so bad I can do this. I think it was more of the fact that I still had a lot of it in my system because as that evening approached I could feel the flu coming on, but not a normal flu, the kind of flu that makes me so feeble I really canít move.
Day 2- After getting no sleep all I can think is Oxy. Where is my oxy, I need my oxy now! Iím in pain, Iím hot, no, Iím cold, I canít be cold, Iím sweating, oh god, where is my oxy! Anger, paranoia, sickness, just swimming over and over again. Never ending. Diarrhea so bad that I just lay in my bath tub naked because it wouldnít stop. It was all day long! No food, couldnít drink. All I could do was vomit stomach acid, shit liquid, cry, scream, curse god, curse myself, and just hope that an oxy was lying around somewhere. At one point I even licked my kitchen floor and counter hoping that I could find some powder or chunks of oxy.
All I could do was vomit stomach acid, shit liquid, cry, scream, curse god, curse myself, and just hope that an oxy was lying around somewhere. At one point I even licked my kitchen floor and counter hoping that I could find some powder or chunks of oxy.
Fucking maid, fuck her! That fucking bitch cleaned my fucking floor and I know there would have been some if not for her. Thatís really what I was thinking at the time, like it was her fault there wasnít a pebble of oxy laying on my floor. How pathetic, but thatís what happened.
Day 2 and 3- Why go into detail? It was just like day 2.
Day 4- Still bad, but I could feel the flu wearing off.
After day 7 I could at least walk around, no vomiting, no diarrhea, but the craving was unbelievable. All I could think of or see was oxy. Everything was oxy. I could look at the floor and just dream of oxy. It wouldnít stop. My heart raced and I cried for my beloved oxy! Make me god again please!!!
I actually went back to work that next week and my secretary looked at me and almost fainted. ďWhat the hell happened to you?Ē I looked like I had come out of a concentration camp. I was white, I lost like 20 pounds, and my eyes were sunk into my head. I just made up some bullshit about how I had been in the hospital sick as a dog with some kind of stomach virus and missed out on my whole ďvacationĒ because of it. She felt sorry for me and now that I think about it, itís kind of funny that she felt sorry for me because it was self induced. I had so much to get done that week, I had to be there to keep my job and somehow I fought through it, thinking about oxy the entire time.
It took me about 1 month before I felt normal. The cravings are still there, but not like before, I donít think about them as much like I used to do all day. Now I donít have that edge that I used to have, when I was the man. I donít go out anymore, itís like I dropped off the face of the earth. I had those women hounding me for weeks just wanting some more of Mr. ďI can fuck for hours,Ē but now I wouldnít be able to fuck for 5 minutes without my oxy. I was a fraud, a fake, but when I was a fake I loved it. Itís been 6 months and I want it back. I want to be him again.
I swear if I can find that source Iím going to buy 1,000s of them and save them up until I have enough to last me a lifetime. I havenít learned a thing. All I want is to be that guy again, the one with the edge on everybody around him. I love that feeling so much that I donít even care if I die, as long as Iím ďthat guyĒ when I do. Thatís how much Oxycontin has fucked up my life.
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