Citation: Legi0n. "The Methadone Days: An Experience with Methadone (exp54084)". Erowid.org. Jun 24, 2008. erowid.org/exp/54084
My entrance into the world of drugs could be classified as a 'typical' one. I was introduced to Cannabis by some friends in my mid-teen years, and like so many others, my use of Cannabis changed me from an immature, innocent, hyperactive kid to a mellow, peace-loving stoner. Though my love for Cannabis remained intact, I felt the urge to experiment with other, stronger, drugs. One thing led to another, and I quickly progressed from occasional lortab use to everyday Methadone use. My dealer was a recovering heroin addict who sold his Methadone to select people. He received a large amount of Methadose 40 on a monthly basis, and I would end up receiving the majority of these pills for nearly 3 months.
I recall the Methadone days quite clearly, it was a depressing time, though the depression was so subtle I could barely notice it while under the influence. Every morning I'd disperse a full 40mg tablet in Capri Sun or soda and down it in one gulp. I could feel relief the instant I consumed the mixture. A subtle warmth would spread over my body, my worries and anxieties became unimportant -- I was happy in the here and now. I soon had no urge to smoke Cannabis, the bag that would normally last a week sat idle for months. I would sit for long periods at the computer or watching TV, in a hazy selfish stupor.
Sleeping became easy and desirable, I spent many hours in a Methadone induced slumber. I still remember some of the vivid dreams I had while on Methadone, anytime I'd fall asleep I found myself in a vibrant, colorful dream world. My worries about becoming addicted made themselves apparent in my dreams. I dreamt about my mother who was devastated to learn about my drug use, I dreamt about being exposed, and how this 'habit' of mine could be misconstrued in peoples eyes and they'd see me as just another druggy degenerate. As time went on I began to fear that I may have come to far to turn back -- I felt a strong urge to do Methadone, and any attempt to quit ended in 'Ok, this is the LAST time...'
I began to withdraw from my family and friends. I would lay around thinking about whether or not I should call my mother, thinking about how much she cares about me, and how much I neglect her. I wanted to call, I wanted to be a good son, I simply didn't have the motivation to. I would lay around debating whether or not I should go get more Methadone, or use up the rest of my stash and try to quit. Loved ones were telling me I looked ill. I knew I was losing weight, and I knew I was damaging my organs (I had liver pain every day), yet I continued my usage, against the advice of close friends. I was going to stop soon. I had to. It was now becoming obvious that I had some kind of problem. I was in my room all day, only leaving when I needed nourishment or social interaction. I was depressed, and the only thing that helped me was Methadone, the very thing that sparked my depression.
The turning point happened when I visited my doctor for a routine checkup. The nurse seemed a bit bothered by my weight. She informed me I had lost 17 pounds, which is a lot for a naturally slender person like myself. I was 129.5 pounds, a weight that I had achieved at earlier than 13 years old. Hearing about my weight loss only confirmed my father's suspicions about my drug use, which he put aside to deal with my grandmother who was visiting at the time. He told me he knew I was on pills, and that I was a different person than I was as little as a few months ago. He told me people in our family were telling him something didn't seem right about me. My own grandmother even made a comment to him - 'What's wrong with that boy?' I knew I was caught, my behavior could have been explained as normal teenage mood-swings, but my weight loss was hard evidence I was abusing something, something that kills one's appetite. Methadone absolutely abolishes my appetite. My father told me he was unsure what drug I was using, he listed the usual suspects: crack, cocaine, heroin, and pills. I told him I was using lortabs, and that I'd run out the day before the doctor visit.
It was a combination of fear and the constant nagging of my father that led me to quit. I quit cold turkey. I still had 5 pills left. I decided to save them in case I absolutely needed them. I didn't want to experience the pain or embarrassment of a serious withdrawal. My withdrawal was relatively mild, the only symptoms being depression and very minor shakes. My willpower overcame the urge to do another pill. I would sit and stare at my stash, thinking about how good it would feel to give in. My plan was now to try to get back into normal life, a normal routine, and once I felt I achieved this, I would consume the rest of the Methadone for enjoyment. Long story short, this didn't happen. Although I ceased my use, my father was still convinced I was on something (I was on something -- Cannabis). He ransacked through my room and found my stash, which I was sure would never be found. I had a bit more than just Methadone, there was also a hefty supply of lortabs and xanax, which I rarely used. This led to a serious confrontation with my father, who I had assured that I'd stopped using pills.
As I write this, it's been roughly 2 months since my last usage. I've regained about 11 pounds, 6 more to go! I'll admit, I miss the Methadone days. My father still calls me a druggy anytime a subject involving drugs other than Cannabis comes up. This bothers me, I don't want my father to think of me as a druggy. Methadone is a very misunderstood substance. It's stereotyped as a heroin substitute, which is understandable. While on Methadone I had no urge to do any other drug besides Methadone. I was an everyday Cannabis smoker until my experience with this drug. I've returned to my normal routine, which mainly consists of smoking Cannabis with friends since it's summer vacation. I no longer have an urge to do Methadone, I know how good it feels, and I know I will use it again. Since my experience I feel more mature, more adult. I have both gained and lost from my Methadone binge, which is now just a memory.
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