Citation: living today. "Drowning Quickly Dying Slowly: An Experience with Oxycodone (ID 91127)". Erowid.org. Dec 6, 2015. erowid.org/exp/91127
Pain pills..oxy's, roxy's, percs, tabs...whatever you want to call them, they are all the same-wonderful, fabulous, and heavenly. That is what I thought in the beginning. I learned that they are just like many females I've met in my lifetime: manipulative, temperamental, and hard on your soul..and I am a female!
I took my first pain pill (Loratab 10mg) at the age of 17. I was prescribed a large amount after having all four of my wisdom teeth extracted. I laugh looking back now because one or two of those 'tic tacs' would fuck my world up and put me to sleep. When I was able to stay awake, I relished in the feeling the pills provided. My body felt warm head to toe, and I was in a good mood despite the pain and constant drooling of blood coming from my wounds.
At the age of 19, I got my first kidney stone. That night in the emergency room I was given my first IV dose of Dilaudid-I was fucked up for hours and hours, and I felt like I was having an out-of-body experience. Over the next few years these bouts with stones continued, and I was given scripts of Lortab or Percocets consistantly. I loved that old familiar 'slipping into a warm bath' the pills gave me. Everything seemed illuminated. Everyone seemed more interesting. I was more interesting, funnier, smarter, prettier... Everything was just EASIER when I was high. I maintained my life at this point and was not even doing pills once a month. Less than that, but sometimes more depending on my health.
I was 22 years old when I tried Oxycontin for the first time. My brother had been hooked on them for several years, but he never let me see him do it and he rarely spoke of it. One night I went to his friend's house with him, and he proceeded to buy a few oxy's. He asked if I wanted to try some, and for whatever reason I agreed. He broke a 40mg pill in half, took the coating off, and crushed it. I snorted 20mg. and sat back on the couch, waiting for the feeling to hit. It hit alright - I was only euphoric for about 20 minutes before I spent the next hour hovering over the toilet. I was fucked up the rest of the night, but still felt nauseous. I swore I would never do it again.
Only a few months later, I was offered the drug again. For whatever damn reason AGAIN, I caved. This time I only did about 10 mils., and I felt on top of the world. This drug made the lortabs and percocets seem like tylenol. I found the love of my life. I found the chemical equivalent to 'perfection', and I was not going to stray. Unfortunately, I let it get so much worse.
Within a year I was doing as much oxy as I could get my hands on. Roxy 30mgs. were always around, and I started falling in love with those even more than oxy's. I did whatever I could to get them. I lied to everyone around me on a daily basis, and I became the opposite of what I had been before I started that nonsense.
I did whatever I could to get them. I lied to everyone around me on a daily basis, and I became the opposite of what I had been before I started that nonsense.
I never went without. I ruined every relationship I had ever cared about, including those within my family. I lost my drive, ambition, motivation, charisma, and even my looks. I was a hollow shell of a person, a ghost of a total stranger. I could barely keep my head up or look myself in the eye in the mirror.
Withdrawal wasn't an option for me. I went through several days sporadically where I couldn't get anything due to lack of money or lack of supplies (which were both rare). In July of 2007, I received a phone call telling me one of my best friends had died in a car accident. That day I went to my dealer's house, who was also a needle user. I walked in, stuck out my arm, and said 'give me a fucking shot. I don't want to feel a goddamn thing today'. She always begged me never to shoot, but at that moment she saw the pain in my eyes. She shot me up with about 30mgs of roxy, and the pain dissipated immediately. I only shot up a few times afterwards and would not let myself get too far into it - I loved it too much.
exactly a year later, I was hospitalized with Pancreatitis. I nearly died. The doctor said my liver/pancreas were giving out because of my pill use. They ended up removing my gall bladder that week while I was still hospitalized, and my parents drove up to stay with me. While lying in my hospital bed, I tearfully admitted to them that I was addicted to pain pills. They were shocked, but supportive. I left my hometown a few days later and went straight to rehab 500 miles away. I had to leave it all behind. And eventually, I did. I've been clean for over a year after a few relapses, but now I know what it takes to stay sober.
Pills were love to me. Pills were near death to me. Pills are everything that you think you want and need but are actually the exact opposite. They can and will destroy you, take anything and everything you've ever cared about... they will steal your soul and send you down an unimaginable road of torment. Please think twice. Your life is such an amazing gift-and if you want, you can get that gift back. I did.
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