DOSE:	0.25 g	IV	Heroin	(daily)
			Methadone

BODY WEIGHT:

60 kg

I started using two years ago. I had just recently befriended two former grade school colleagues with whom I used to hang out in a larger group setting, mostly at my apartment, smoke pot and have loads of fun. We, of course, shared our experiences with drugs, as I wasn't really new to the scene either. I had tried cannabis, ketamine and amphetamines (ecstasy, speed and others) on various occasions. I was really enjoying their company, as they were a couple of years older than me (I was 20 at the time) and fascinating, charismatic guys -- you could say we had chemistry. When I found out they were former heroin addicts, I was intrigued. I've always wanted to try as many drugs as possible, I hated missing out on any experience whatsoever and I fancied myself a hedonist. My first and foremost addiction is to novelty. So ever since reading Burroughs and a description of heroin's effects as 'blissful apathy', I had my mind made up as to what new drug I wanted to try out. The groundwork had been done. Needless to say I took advantage of my newfound, surprising and exciting opportunity and told one of my friends that I would really like to try it out, as soon as he would be in the mood for shooting, one of those days. And sure enough, a couple of days later I received a call from him asking me if I still want it, he got a firm 'yes' and half an hour later was at my door.

Only now I realize what an indifferent, irresponsible jerk he was not to warn me of the real danger I was exposing myself to, not sharing his extensive grim experience of years of addiction with me. His only excuse is that, at the time, he was just slipping again into the habit after some years of abstinence and probably forgot just how bad it was. Nevertheless, I shoot up side by side with him a very large first dose which I didn't of course inject myself, but let him do it. Blissful apathy it was. I couldn't believe how powerful this drug really was. The effect was instantaneous, the pleasure indescribable. For some minutes I was nothing but ecstatic. That's until I started throwing up, which wasn't that bad either, because I was so sedated that I was just going through the motions, not feeling a thing. I was so emotionally empty, in a good sense. In the sense that nothing could get to me anymore, I couldn't be affected by the biggest tragedy happening right next to me. I was just calm. Not even happy, because the emotional numbness prevented that sort of thing too. But it was inexplicably good.

So I started shooting now and then. And started meeting again some of my former schoolmates, the type I would have never hung with in school, 'the losers', who were all now, like they were then as well, drug addicts -- just more fucked up than ever. I soon discovered there was a secret underworld in my neighborhood and the guys (and gals) who were a part of it kept growing in numbers. I was thrilled to be involved with this counterculture, as I saw it: twenty-something hustlers talking in codes and having their special customs. In fact, although I was a philosophy major in the largest university in the city (now a graduate) and thinking of doing graduate studies, while the rest of the crowd barely had some years of high-school, I've always had a fascination with street life and hip-hop culture. This was my perfect combination of Burroughs and hip-hop. Because, in the end, it's all a values thing.

By the time I realized, I was using daily, buying and shooting on my own, which was unimaginable at first. I completely blended with this underworld. I would now go to the most infamous of gypsy neighborhoods (in my country crime is mostly done by this racial crowd) and score from utterly dangerous guys. I never imagined being in this place. I did almost anything to get my dose and the sums I spent were getting more and more enormous by the day, as did my regular dose and my tolerance level. I started stealing from my family in addition to all the money they gave me and all that I earned myself from other sources. I started borrowing a lot, paying with interest to pawnbrokers and selling my stuff, my electronics and even my books to support my habit yet another day.

Fast forward to present time, I have lost almost everything. But most importantly, I have lost myself. I'm not the same person anymore. I used to be a enthusiastic, charismatic, spontaneous, intelligent, curious, witty guy. Now I'm just depressed, desperate, disoriented, slow, boring, completely unreliable, irresponsible and powerless. From being interested in everything and hooked on novelty, I got to not caring about anything. Nothing can spark my interest anymore, nothing but smack. My days are a constant, never ending, never changing struggle. I used to be a passionate achiever, now I haven't accomplished anything in over an year.

I'm trying to break my habit for months and months, but in the process, rather than giving up heroin, I got hooked on methadone too. And, as they say about methadone, it's even harder to break than heroin. I don't know what to do anymore.

Exp Year: 2008	ExpID: 75196
Gender: Male
Age at time of experience: 20
Published: Aug 20, 2020	Views: 749
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