The Slippery Slope...
Citation: Addicted. "The Slippery Slope...: An Experience with Diazepam (exp29782)". Erowid.org. Jan 7, 2004. erowid.org/exp/29782
It all started of about a year ago, my first introduction to this drug was very positive. One of my friends had stumbled over illegally manufactured diazepam, it was some very fine freebase crystals. I fell in love the first time I tried it, the dose was ~5mg and my entire body felt pleasantly relaxed. Natrually it didn't take very long until I decided to buy myself a stash of my own. The price was very humble, about 50USD / gram, so I decided to buy a gram.
In the beginning everything went smooth, I thought I was safe since I knew how addictive it was and decided not to do it more than twice a week and in moderate dosages. I kept this promise to myself until I was almost out of it, I figured my self dicipline with this drug was good enough to buy some more. This time I got a surprisingly good offer from the dealer, 5 grams for about 150USD. I took it. I figured that I'd never use this much myself so I sold 2 grams to a friend of mine who I knew also enjoyed the effects very much. This left me with 3 grams to consume alone...
As time went by I forgot my original promise to myself, I stretched the boundaries bit by bit until I suddenly found myself with just about 0.5 grams left. I gave it a thought and came to the conclusion that I must have been doing about 20-30mg a day the last 2 months! The increased dosage and the daily administration had grown to a dangerous peak and I hadn't even noticed it.
A 10mg dose barely had any effect on me anymore, if I tried to stay off it for just a single day I would be unable to get any kind of rest that night. After a while I realized that I was in serious trouble, steadily increasing the dosage and tightening the administrations, so I decided to talk to a friend about it. He had tried some different benzos but with alot more care than me so I knew that if someone would understand my worries it'd be him.
When I spilled the entire truth about my addiction on him he was slightly shocked to say the least. He told me that his impression of my diazepam usage was that I took it as a recreational drug on the weekends and occationally during the weeks. He supported me by making me a drop-off schedule and told me never to buy this stuff again. I tried following the schedule but it proved impossible, my will as so weakened by the drug that I was unable to decrease the dosage. I didn't take me very long to realize that there was no escaping the horrors to come, so I flushed the remaining diazepam down the toilet.
It took me 3 days before I got any sleep at all. All I could do was lay down in my bed, soaked in sweat and on the very edge of a nervous breakdown watching movies. I barely ate, I smoked at least 30 cigarettes a day (I usually DON'T smoke at all) and refused any kind of company.
About a week after I flushed the drugs I managed to pull myself together enough to visit my parents, they looked horrified when they saw me. I had lost at least 5-6kg because I hadn't eaten very much the last week, my face was pale and very thin. I never told them about my addiction, just that I'd probably caught the flu. I stayed at my parents for another 4 days and was finally starting to really recover.
Back home I found myself very restless and still having problems with insomnia. I solved this by smoking a good bowl of weed every night before going to bed. This eased falling asleep, but I would still wake up 2-3 times a night finding myself in the restless mood again. Getting up, walking around the house and drinking some water usually helped but sometimes I was unable to go back to sleep without another bowl of weed.
It took me almost a month before the addiction had let go of me entirely. I'm sure diazepam has alot of uses, even recreational, but it's a drug I'll never be able to enjoy again. I guess the moral of this story is: when you're convinced you're in control, you're definitely not!
Be carefull when using benzos, it's a steep and slippery slope...
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