addiction
The realities of addition; the truth about living under, above and beyond the influence of drugs and alcohol.
My Name Is Alex, and I'm Addicted to Xanax
I was 14 years years old the first time I took a Benzodiazepine. They weren't prescribed to me like they are to most. The provider of my first dose was my mother. My mother always kept about 60 Pro-Lorazepam tablets in her purse at all times. My mom's been taking the stuff since she was 19 years old. At the time of this story, she was probably about 52, so she had 33 years of continuous use under her belt at the time. One night she had left to walk the family dogs and she always left her purse sitting on her dresser in her bedroom. It had never crossed my mind to steal these pills from her, but I was getting to an age where I was curious about experimenting with drugs. I thought I had a pretty good idea of what they were going to do to me, so I went into her room and pulled back the zipper on the top of her black leather purse. Inside the purse was a makeup case containing her prescription drugs. I opened up the makeup case and took out the Pro-Lorazepam and popped the safety cap open. I knew she'd never notice they were gone. I proceeded to dump four pills into my palm and dry swallow them, without hesitation, right there in the dark of her bedroom. I snapped the top of the pill bottle back on and positioned it exactly as I found it in her makeup case. I closed her purse carefully, positioned it just as it was, and settled back down into the basement for whatever trip I was about to experience. To sum it up, a 14-year-old me had just taken four one milligram tablets of Pro-Lorazepam, which would be eight times the recommended dose for somebody of that age.
By Alex Camacho6 years ago in Psyche
McDonald's: My Nightmare
When I was a small boy, I would see commercials for McDonalds. In fact, I would see them over three or four times a day, to the point where I would be craving the golden arches all day long. My parents were rather smart about this, though, because very rarely would we ever go to fast food, so I would always consider it a treat when we did. This was during the mid to late 90s, when the size of their food was that of a pickup truck and the prices were low. A Big Mac meal cost around $2.99 back then, now you couldn't get one for less than seven dollars, and the sandwich has shrunk considerably. I loved going, and when I would get a happy meal and get that cheap toy from the latest blockbuster that was kicking around in theaters at the time, I thought of it like Christmas. I would only ever get toys two times a year: My birthday and Christmas. The rest of the time, if I wanted something, I would get the same answer. "NO." As simple as that; a large, pulsating NO. My parents were stern, but they were fair. McDonald's was the same way—whenever I would ask to go, same thing. NO.
By Evan Filley6 years ago in Psyche
Inner Battles
Society has been programmed to believe in good and bad. This doesn’t pose a problem, until you realize that most people believe that asking forgiveness will excuse the demons they possess. It’s rumored that demons exist in dark matter (Dark energy, Quantum Physics. The majority of this reality is made of dark matter, meaning that dark spirits can be anywhere. Our brain is even composed with dark matter (Dark Matter of the Brain)). So who’s to say that we all don’t have demons within us? People have different ways to feed their demons, addiction being the most prominent. It’s as if gluttony is the only way to satisfy our inner demon's hunger pangs.
By James Harrison6 years ago in Psyche
Light at the End of the Tunnel
Laying in a cold jail cell, shaking and crying, praying to God to please free me. I had not seen my kids, did not know if they knew their drug addict mother was in jail. That was the beginning of the end of my road to destruction. I had gone through the worst withdrawal symptoms ever imaginable and slept for six days straight. Then it happened. I was out of jail with a whole new thought in my head.
By Tina Sanchez6 years ago in Psyche
7 Signs Your Loved One Has an Addiction
In the unfortunate even that you suspect your loved one is facing drug addiction, your mind goes a million miles an hour. But in the midst of all of it, how do you know for sure? One surefire way is to get them to take a drug test, but approaching them out of nowhere to have them do that is a way to cause issues between the two of you. So, what do you need to look for?
By Savana Verret7 years ago in Psyche
Drugs vs. Emotions
As a former user, I’ve come to the realization that my drug use stemmed mostly out of being unable to control my emotions. I was unable to handle the power inside of me that controlled me. Prior to using, I had sleep problems since an early age. My brain seemed to never shut off analyzing this and analyzing that. I pick up on other people’s emotions, too. I’ve been called an empath by a shaman. I was given these gifts, and had no idea how to handle them, control them, or what they even were, so I turned to drugs.
By James Gaines7 years ago in Psyche
The Tear
We grew up by heroin highway, or 290. I saw the stories on the news, but we were in a small suburb. It couldn't happen to anyone I knew. We had good lives, they weren't perfect, but they were good. I stood staring at his gray body, dark circles under his eyes, bluish-purple lips, bruises lined his arms and as they administer the naloxone, I can't help but think that he is dead. Not in the literal sense. His heart is beating again, but this is not the guy I grew up with. The person I knew died with the first injection. The first snort. The first toke.... to be honest, I'm not sure how it started. He wouldn't tell me that. He hid his other life from me, knowing that I wouldn't approve. He knew I had a background of bad experiences with people I've known making a handful of mistakes on harsh, addictive drugs. So he hid it from me, like so many of our other friends. I've watched as many of my best friends have made this transition; from best friend to complete stranger. Even worse, I've stood at funerals for this horrible disease. I stood at funerals before we were even out of high school. And now, here I stood, watching the man I was in love with wither away as the disease and the drugs took over. As I ran a hand over my protruding belly, I wondered how this was going to affect her. I wondered if he would even be around to meet her. I wondered if I should run, get as far away from this state as possible so that there was never even the possibility of me ever seeing my daughter fall to this fate. But that wouldn't help. Moving wouldn't solve anything. It was a nationwide problem at this point. I looked again at the stranger in front of me. This disease was killing him and in that moment I realized there was nothing I could do to stop it.
By Michelle Schultz7 years ago in Psyche
A Modest Proposal, the True Dangers of Narcotics
As a child, I watched my mother weasel her way into countless doctor offices and con them into writing her prescriptions for highly addictive painkillers and narcotics, such as Xanax, OxyContin, and Hydrocodone. She convinced them she was in unbearable physical pain, which was not entirely false. Yes, she was in pain, but that pain was not somatic, but mental. Years of emotional distress and misfortune led her down a path of addiction that tore her from her family and ultimately contributed to her death.
By Alyson McGowan7 years ago in Psyche
Heroin Freak
If you asked me six months ago if I’d ever use hard drugs, my answer would have been no way. I don’t believe in drug use, it’s for the weak minded, the weak willed. It’s for people who want to run away from their problems rather than fix them. Now fast forward to today, and I’d tell you that my drug of choice was possibly the best and worst decision in the world.
By Kierstyn West7 years ago in Psyche