Citation: crackbrat. "Binge of a Lifetime: An Experience with Crack (exp51229)". Erowid.org. Mar 30, 2018. erowid.org/exp/51229
The doses described in this report are potentially life threatening. The amount taken is beyond a heavy dose and could pose serious health risks or result in unwanted, extreme effects. Doses such as this have been known to cause hospitalizations and/or deaths. Sometimes extremely high doses reported are errors rather than actual doses used.]
||(powder / crystals)
4 ounces of crack cocaine. In two days. Free crack, may I add.
I was a crack user for a few months before this binge, but I never smoked that much in that short of a time period. It was my boyfriend, our best friend, and myself. When I would smoke too much crack, and I wouldn't eat or sleep for days, I would have a seizure. I've had 4. That weekend we smoked those 4 ounces was one of the times I had a seizure. It seemed like there was an infinite supply of hits. They just kept coming. It never ended. There was no crash. There was no feinding. There was no craving. Whatsoever. The second I came down off a magical trip to the clouds, there was another giant rock sitting in the glass stem in my hands. Before we got these 4 ounces, I hadn't eaten of slept in days. I wasn't hungry or tired because we usuallly smoked an 8-ball or two a day so that killed the hunger pangs.
Then the 4 ounces came and I spun out of controll. My boyfriend handed me a massive rock. I knew I should have split it in two because I knew my limitations. But I took it all in one hit. And had the worst seizure of my life. I don't remember anything, but from witness accounts, I attacked my boyfriend, screamed his name, fell down to the bed, thrashed around viciously and put my knee through a wall. They had to restrain me from doing other damage. I came out of it, having no idea what happened. My boyfriend was crying because it wasn't the first time he saw me have one, and he hated seeing it. I couldn't remember his name. I couldn't remember where I was. I couldn't remember anything. Then it set in that I had another seizure. I wouldn't believe them at first, because I am always in denial when I have a seizure. Then I started crying and swore it was the last time I smoked crack. I swore it was. As I swore it was my last time the 2 seizures before that. I swore it was my last time after the very last seizure I had. I swore I would quit hitting the pipe so many times. I passed out and woke up the next morning, reaching for my crack pipe. Fast forwared 5 months later, I'm pregnant, and still hitting the pipe. Not as much as before. Before it was an everyday thing. I've been semi-clean for a little over month, semi-clean meaning 3 binges, not every day smoking like it used to be. Hey, it's good by my standards.
Those beautiful white pebbles. Everything on the black carpet was a crack rock. Every little white speck on the side walk I yearned to pick up, hoping it was a crack hit. Crack was fed to me. My boyfriend was the biggest dealer in our area, so there was a constant supply. All day every day. I began to loathe the lifestyle after a while. I began to hate the way craving a hit would make my body feel. I began to hate the fact that I craved this drug. I began to hate the tolerance I built and how much shorter the high would last. I don't get as high as I used too. I still take 'phantom hits', as I call them, in my dreams, now that I have slowed down quite a bit. I wake up from having a dream in which I am taking a massive rip, and I wake up feinding because I am expecting to be high. I lay in my bed at night, alone, since my boyfriend and I have decided to split for a little bit, writhing and squirming under the sheets, thinking about crack and craving it. It's a horrbile feeling.Every few weeks I'll give in, and go to my boyfriends house and get high for a day or two. Then I go back home and try not to crash too hard. I used to crash really hard. It was a rare occasion when I crashed, because there was usually at least a gram laying around, but when we ran out and it was time to pick up, I crashed hard. Moodswings, crying, violence, I was nuts. I hated crashing. I hated myself.
I'm trying to stay clean. I'm trying to prevent any more brain damage from seizures,and trying to be healthy for my baby. But its an addiction that never fades. It's always there, a pulsating, yearning in the back of my mind.
Crack ruined my life. I'm not as quick anymore because of the seizures, I have no job. I dropped out of school. I lost my family bond. I lost my friends. I'm pregnant. I'm 17 years old.
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