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So I was trying to quit last year, around this same time, and was active on this forums. But because of a lot of life shit, I slipped deeper into addiction. Brief updates: best friend of eleven years and I fell madly in love, but he basically decided: "yeah, I like kissing you and cuddling naked, yeah I jack it to gay porn, but I just gotta end up with a woman so this was fun sorry bro!" . . . Well he put it a lot more eloquently than that, saying "our love is transcendent and indescribable, and we will certainly grow old together, but even though I will never love a woman like I love you, I just *have* to end up starting a family with a woman. . ." 'Transcendent' is a total cop-out lmao. So then, I left (I live in Tennessee now), started school but because of some beaurocratic complications, couldn't pay my tuition so I . . . wait for it: Started trading my body for methamphetamine. . . As you may know from my previous posts, I have schizophrenia. February 11th marked the anniversary of one full year out of mental institutions, the first full year since I was 13. I felt super proud of myself. But I was up for literally fucking weeks, off my meds, tweaking and losing my damn mind in Starbucks from opening to closing, and also heavily addicted to kratom, an atypical herbal opioid. And I felt like I was dying. My guts felt like they were twisting and burning. I am not sure how much of that was psychosomatic, but I am still feeling some gastrointestinal discomfort, but it's a lot better now. (Oral and sublingual was my route of administration for the meth, and meth has been occasionally known to cause bowel ischemia and assorted other issues due to vasoconstriction from activation of certain receptors in the gut.) So, February 12th, at 5:00 AM, I took an Uber to the ER. Had my t shirt tucked in, and a rosary wrapped around my hand (sorta ex-Catholic, was gonna be a priest), said: "People do really really stupid things; it's inexplicable, but it's all part of the mystery of the human experience, and I have been crushing inhalers and eating the cotton inside for their amphetamine for years, and I've also been on a meth binge for the last two weeks." Honestly had so much fun at the ER lol. It was actually terrifying, but the kindness from the staff made it so much better. Doc did some tests and said: "Your insides are not burning or rotting. You still have a bunch of methamphetamine in your system; you're just tweaking out kid. You feel like you're dying because you haven't slept or eaten in almost a week. . . Congrats on the year out of the hospital." And I strutted out of the ER with a cigarette in my hand, chugged like 3 cups of coffee from the machine in one minute, then told the receptionist: "Meth is SOOO bad for you!" She laughed. But anyway, I got kicked out of my house in Tennessee lol! Also can't come back to San Francisco house. Some background: my dad--who was also addicted to meth--beat me the fuck up every day from ages 11-13. I've had my nose and my jaw broken. Anyway, this past year, I made the mistake of believing he had """changed""" and that our conversations had """healed""" us or whatever. Well, he doesn't do meth anymore, but he is so damn dysfunctional due to his moods. Bipolar disorder. When he is depressed, he is ANGRY and VIOLENT. JUST like when I was a kid. So, when he read my text that I went to the ER, which by the way, he HAS NO IDEA WHY I even WENT to the ER, he lost his shit and screamed long loud "ffuuucckk"s down the block, I STILL hadn't slept, I fumbled with the lock, ran the fuck out, and just like that, I was only a scared little boy. And I realized. . . I have never moved past that. I am quite an immature person, in some ways. I have a breadth of intellectual maturity, but when it comes to tolerating negative (or just neutral) emotional states . . . I am just that scared little boy. Running away. Incessantly. Endlessly trapped in this pattern. This past. This ENORMOUS open and barren wasteland of memories. It haunts. It is infinite, and not in a Divine-like way. I'm currently staying at my neighbor's house. Slept for literally 20 hours. Now, 2 days sober. Haven't spent two days sober in a loooong time. (I also quit the kratom cold turkey.) And I have a job at Starbucks. But I am driving across country in March with my neighbor, back to the Bay, where I will go live in a transitional housing program in Palo Alto that I've been referred to. Withdrawal SUUUCKS. First day sober, I ate TWO WHOLE BOXES OF CHOCOLATE lol. Brain zaps. No drive. Nightmares. Does it still count as sober if I consume ~1.5 grams of caffeine a day? Haha. Anyway, this is. . . necessary. A highly unpleasant and explosive eruption into true maturity and adulthood. It's needed. Maybe I should have gotten sober last fucking year, BUT the lessons the Universe cannot be rushed. Hopelessness interpolates with hope. Despair leads to action. . . or the patience to wait. Hope is something imagined in mutuality. I continue pressing forward. . . Zigzagging toward the light. God is SUCH a femme fatale. (ALSO: my book of poetry is being published LATER THIS MONTH, so you guys should buy & read it!)
Clavicula posted a topic in Tell your storyHi! I am two days sober. I had two intense cravings today, but I got through it simply by waiting. I don't even try to fight it and say: no, I won't use amphetamine, I simply wait fifteen minutes and see if I still want to use it. By then the cravings have completely passed. Some background about me. I am eighteen years old. I was diagnosed with schizophrenia and bipolar disorder (schizoaffective, bipolar type) when I was a freshman in high school and had a psychotic break. In sophomore year of high school I started stealing my brother's ADHD pills. I didn't even get high at first. I would take a pill, and then literally take a nap. But I started to become sensitized to the pills and extremely addicted to them. I would use them every day, multiple times a day. I was also recently prescribed an antidepressant and already having my first manic episode, so the amphetamine just made it much, much worse. I had a very very bad, traumatic, manic break a couple of weeks after stopping the Adderall pills along with all of my antipsychotic medication and my antidepressant. I'm talking, running down the street naked at one AM, covered in blood screaming at people about UFOs while cutting myself. I was tackled by the police, handcuffed to the gurney in the ambulance, and forcibly injected with tranquilizers then hospitalized. I have been on involuntary psychiatric holds probably about twenty or more times throughout my life, I have lost count. Since being diagnosed when I was fourteen, I haven't gone more than a couple months without some sort of psychiatric intervention. At first this was because I was delusional and refused to take my meds, and later it was because of suicidal thoughts and two attempts once I gained insight into how I was sick and how shitty my life was, and also because of the mood swings associated with my amphetamine addiction. My most recent hospitalization was a week ago, when I stuck my head in the oven like Sylvia Plath to kill myself because I was going through amphetamine withdrawal. Withdrawals have become dangerous for me in the past due to suicidal thoughts. I have two suicide attempts, the other was in April 2018 when I was withdrawing from kratom and Adderall and overdosed on a sedative and a bottle of liquor and locked myself in the bathroom and passed out. They had to pump my stomach. For me, the amphetamine abuse and the mental illness go hand in hand. Mania feels almost exactly like Adderall, and Adderall feels almost exactly like mania. When I am manic I want to take drugs to increase the feeling, and when I take drugs I just become more manic. I know for a fact that the two very simple things I have to do to stay out of the hospital, which I have not quite figured out how to do even after all these years, is SIMPLY: 1. Take my medication. 2. Stop taking drugs. I have got the medication down, I am compliant, but I have not figured out how to stop taking stimulant drugs. Recently, in the past year, my use has not been Adderall but an even stronger stimulant you can buy in a nasal spray I will not name over the counter at any pharmacy. This has been troublesome, because going to pick up my meds has been a trigger. I am two days sober. I relapsed on Thursday morning after three days sober. I have been to two AA meetings, and plan to go to the Dual Recovery meeting on Monday. I know now that I have to change, but damn it it's fucking hard! The withdrawals seriously suck. I didn't realize, since I only used every OTHER day, that I would experience withdrawals, but I guess after years of consistent use that I would. I relapsed on Thursday because I couldn't stand the depression and fatigue. This time, I got some supplements which have been helping me massively with energy levels during the withdrawals. I want to quit kratom when I move in two weeks, but I learned that it is too much to quit both Adderall and kratom at once right now. My kratom use is not extreme and I don't expect much withdrawals. I plan to get through these two weeks before I move to another state, and hopefully attend meetings as much as possible. The kratom will go eventually, but it's not the most major problem I have. I would just like to not be dependent on anything, even a mild herb. What has been working for me in terms of coping with cravings is simply praying the rosary whenever I experience a craving. The craving passes after I pray it. I am a very religious person and want to become an Episcopal priest after I learn to manage my mental illness and addiction better. I have actually been doing better with my mental illness. The psychosis is mostly gone, the mania is under control, I'm just still learning how to cope with depression occasionally. I know depression will be really bad in the first month. I have been having really bad nightmares and also really wonderful, pleasant vivid dreams at once. Any tips on anything? Thanks for reading.