Citation: somatose. "Suicidal Recovery: An Experience with Methamphetamine, alprazolam, zolpidem, codeine & cannabis (exp70992)". Erowid.org. Oct 3, 2013. erowid.org/exp/70992
This is a pretty long report, but it describes exactly what I did to myself that made me feel the worst I have ever felt in my life to this point. Though I had thought of suicide before, I had never been so acutely depressed as to seriously consider doing it. I am writing this in hopes that someone will read it and avoid making the mistakes that I did.
It all started when my girlfriend and I went half on a 30-bag of meth. It was decent stuff, not pharmaceutical-grade, but not peanut butter crank either. It consisted of salt-like clear granules along with some slightly larger mini-meth-crystals probably a few millimeters in length.
I also bought 2 2mg tabs of alprazolam to help get to sleep after the comedown.
We had planned to do it together the next day, but because of various circumstances, I was unable to. By the time I had a free day to get tweaked out, she had already done her half. On my free day I woke up and pondered weather I should wait or just go ahead and get tweaked out today. I decided to do it. Having no meth pipe, I decided to snort the shit. This would be my first time snorting meth; previously I had only smoked it.
At around 2 PM I poured out a third of the bag, crushed the crystals as best I could, broke it into two lines (a bit smaller than coke lines) and snorted it. It burned a little, but it wasn't as bad as my girlfriend had told me it would be. I hopped on the computer and started to play Counter-Strike, which is very intense when I'm on uppers, especially meth. Methamphetamine, more than any other drug, really makes me feel superhuman. But it's more than just feeling. My reflexes are quickened so much, I am processing so much data so quickly that I really am more than human. Nobody could stand up to me on Counter-Strike. I guess some people like to vandalize shit and start fights when they feel invincible like that. Me, I just play Counter-Strike.
After the first hour, when that euphoric rush was over, I considered doing more but decided to wait. Good thing I did, because my mother came upstairs at around 3 and told me that she would be leaving and that I would be in charge of taking care of my father who was bedridden. I had calmed down enough that they didn't notice I was on anything. Around 5 PM, my dad told me I had helped enough and I went back upstairs and promptly snorted two more lines.
I was, of course, tempted to do more when the rush of those two lines wore off, but I told myself to save the rest of the meth for another day. I had already gone through two thirds of the bag. I wanted to fall asleep before morning broke, and besides I knew I had reached my limit. If I took any more I would have probably gotten the heart palpatations, twitchiness, and hallucinations that let me know I've done too much. I told myself I was going to do it right this time, and not end up making myself feel like shit on the come-down.
I played Counter-Strike for another couple of hours, but then I'd had enough of it. I began listening to any music in my collection that was fast and loud while I compulsively organized the files on my computer. From about 8 PM until 1 AM, I was on the computer just doing whatever the hell I felt like. I spent a considerable portion of that time tweaking my computer to run ever cooler and faster: repositioning the case fans, changing BIOS settings, messing around with the software. That's why they call this stuff 'tweak'. During this period I developed a decent body buzz, where my limbs just felt fuzzy and buzzing and nice.
At around 1 in the morning, I started coming down. I've had some bad come-downs before off stimulants, but this time it actually wasn't that bad. I got an odd 'tired-but-not-really' feeling in my head. I sort of felt tired, but the meth's lingering after-effects made sleep the last thing on my mind. At this point I decided to masturbate, which felt really good even though I was only halfway hard because of the meth. I decided that I was still liking the way I felt, and that I should put on some chill music to keep the come-down chill. I settled on some laid-back reggae.
I could feel the after-effects of the meth wearing off very slowly throughout the next several hours. At 4 AM I decided I was off the meth enough for sleep to be possible, and so I took the 4mg of alprazolam that I had.
In half an hour the alprazolam was in effect, but I didn't think it was enough. I needed more. There were no more benzos in my house, but my mother did have a prescription for zolpidem (aka Ambien). All the alprazolam and meth in my system affected my judgement and I decided to steal one of her pills. Since they were extended-release, I crushed the pill and swallowed the powder.
For some reason, I thought it would be a good idea to take another one. And another one. And then another one. I was keeping a 'trip log' at the time, and the last entry I made read: '5:55 AM. I think I did another ambien dose of' And stopped there abruptly.
From this point on I had a complete memory black-out. I can only guess at how much zolpidem I took. I found a piece of paper on which I think I was trying to calculate how much I took, and it read 'five crushed', so I know I took at least that much. At 6.25mg per pill, that comes out to 31.25mg of zolpidem.
I remember absolutely nothing until around noon. I don't even know if I passed out or if I was awake for the missing six hours. But my next memory is putting even more
crushed-up Ambien tablets into a plastic bag to give to my girlfriend. All in all, I think I stole around 10 of my mom's pills that morning.
Sometime that afternoon, I left the house to go meet up with my girlfriend. I was still very much on drugs, and driving like this was not a good idea. [Erowid Note:
Driving while intoxicated, tripping, or extremely sleep deprived is dangerous and irresponsible because it endangers other people. Don't do it!]
She was staying at her friend's apartment, and as I pulled into the parking space, I ran into the car next to me. The owner was inside it and he got out and he was quite pissed. Thankfully, there was no damage to either car. Not even scuffed paint. So I made it out of that situation without having to deal with the police.
We went to Wal-Mart for some reason, and in the parking lot I took out the rest of the meth I had left and snorted it. It was about the same amount as each of the two doses I had taken the day before. I did feel a little stimulated, but I was not euphoric and I was very disappointed.
I don't remember what we did to fill the time, but I was out driving around with her all day, and some time during the day I bought an ounce of weed. In the evening we went to her other friend's apartment and took bong hits the entire time we were there. Eventually some of her other friends who I didn't know came over. I have social anxiety disorder so I was feeling very uncomfortable. I suppose the benzos had worn off by then. We played card games for a while, but eventually the friend's mother came home, and that was just too much. I made some excuse to them that I needed to go back home, so me and my girlfriend left. I dropped her off at her house and went home. I stole two codeine pills from my dad (60mg total) to knock me out, and went to sleep.
The next day I felt depressed. Extremely, acutely depressed. It is the worst feeling I have ever felt in my life. I just felt bad
. I can't even put it into words. Cliche, I know. Nothing I did brought me pleasure. Nothing I tried could remove my focus from how depressed I felt. I was hoping it would go away sometime during the day, but it didn't. At night I laid in bed for several hours not able to sleep because of the depression. Eventually I felt so bad that I began to weep. I realized that there was no point living in this kind of state. It wasn't even living, because I was already dead on the inside, although my body continued on. I began to seriously contemplate suicide. I wasn't on the verge of killing myself that very minute, but I knew that if it would go on like this for much longer I would have to commit suicide. I called my girlfriend and talked to her for a while, which made me feel a bit better, and eventually I got to sleep.
The next day was much the same as the one I just described.
Then finally on the third day the depression began to lessen. It by no means disappeared, I still felt empty and dead inside. But it wasn't quite as bad as it had been. I smoked some weed, which made me feel better but still not 100% right for a couple of hours. The depression continued to lessen over the next few days, until finally it was gone.
I think what caused the depression was primarily the meth. I had done meth before and never gotten this kind of depression, but when I had done meth before it had always been a single
time. This time, I did three doses over the course of a couple of days. The zolpidem may have played a part in it, but I'm pretty sure it was primarily the meth, since that stuff messes with the serotonin system. I would advise anyone thinking about doing meth to not do too much of it, and never
do it multiple days in a row especially
if you are predisposed to depression and other mental disorders like I am.
As for me, I have completely sworn off meth and amphetamines and so far (5 months later) I have been able to stick to it. Eventually my parents found out about the missing pills and they were convinced I was a drug addict and threatened to kick me out if I didn't go to rehab. Eventually I talked some sense into them, and I am neither wasting time in rehab or out in the street, but their trust in me has been irreversibly damaged.
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