Citation: moe_fan. "A Good Run While It Lasted: An Experience with Oxycodone (exp80185)". Erowid.org. Jan 1, 2013. erowid.org/exp/80185
I want to start by saying that Iím neither for, nor against the recreational use of opiates. You can do whatever you want and Iím a strong proponent for the right to chemical happiness. That being said, opiates are a powerful class of drug that are not to be trifled with.
I sit here tonight, somewhat bored, lonely, and just generally thinking about where it all went wrong. Iím a productive 22 year-old member of society, even successful by most opinions. But I canít help feeling a little distraught, almost all the time. Naturally this is due to a number of things but this, the tale of how a serious oxycodone habit, along with a serious dealing venture, affected my life.
I started using drugs recreationally when I was 15. Iím generally very happy about it. I think recreational drug use for introspection and entertainment is fantastic. The way that psychoactives can distort oneís reality and alter perceptions is simply amazing. My quest for amusement and enlightenment showed me the way to a large variety of substances, some of which I abused. Iíve tried just about every common drug one could think of, and probably more. I really enjoy most things, except marijuana, believe it or not. But opiates will always hold a dear place in my heart.
I graduated high school in 2005. In that same year, I expanded my search for chemical excitement to ďhard drugsĒ. I went off to college and dabbled in LSD, cocaine, low dose opioids, and ecstasy, to name a few. I was having the time of my life, and I really had a great time with the stimulants. It was all fun, but none of it was life-changing, as far as I was concerned. The weeks went by and I became bored. I finished my freshman year and decided over the summer not to go back to school in the fall. Thinking back, that was the exact tipping point.
In the fall, all of my high school friends had gone back to school and I was incredibly bored being a 9-5 drone living with my parents. Eventually, I caught up with some people that were in my class, but I never hung out with much. Long story short, I was introduced to methadone, then heroin, then morphine, then Oxycontin. I knew the first time I tried powerful opiates that they would hold a special place in my heart.
I started out snorting free bumps of OC from my new friends. This pattern of perhaps twice weekly use lasted about a month. At that time, I decided to get my own supplies to get high whenever I wanted. Where I lived at the time, the upper-middle class suburbs, heroin was just to hard get on a reliable basis and when it was around I never knew what I was going to get. There I determined that Oxycontin was the drug for me. When I was first starting out, still woefully unaware of the effects this drug would have on me, I was railing about 40 mg a day, spaced out. The feeling was unlike anything else. I felt absolutely fantastic. On top of the world, strong, confident, alert, productive. I loved every minute of my existence.
After about a month, my habit had grown to about 100 mg a day. But I was still convinced I could stop whenever I wanted. Naturally, I didnít want to stop. By the time I was doing about 3 40 mg pills a day, I decided that it was getting too expensive. Coincidentally, about this same time, some of closest friends from high school were beginning to act strangely toward me and I didnít see much of them anymore. I didnít think much of it at the time, but they quite obviously knew about the situation and believed it was far more serious than I did. I became bitter toward them and started to withdraw from them, myself. In retrospect, they were right.
If youíre reading this and are familiar with opiate habits, you will know that neither expense, nor losing life-long friends will deter a junkie. If you arenít familiar, now you know. To combat the expense of my usage I sought out wholesale prices. I began to buy, through friends of friends, large quantities at lower costs with the intention that I could control myself enough to by a large quantity of pills and ration myself. I could not. Before I knew it, I was up to 4 40ís a day. I was never really in fiscal trouble because I lived with my parents and had a pretty good job, pulling in about $800 a week. Regardless, when my habit reached about $100 a day, wholesale, I knew something needed to happen. Obviously, I thought of quitting right there. However, the way the drugs made me feel and my inherent infallibility led me to toss out that idea very quickly. I needed to get it cheaper.
Even better than getting cheaper, I eventually decided, was to make money on the drug I so dearly adored. I went into a business venture with a friend to begin to sell the pills. By this point, a lot of friends in the area really enjoyed doing oxycodone but it wasnít readily available and usually required a trip into the big city and about 40 miles of round trip driving. This was the main aspect we hoped to capitalize on. We started out slow, scoring maybe 75 40 mg pills of the generic ďABGĒ style Oxycontin knock-offs a week. We were making $5 on a pill and the selling was paying for way more that I was doing at the time. It was great and I soon increased my daily dose. One thing led to another and in a couple of months, we were moving 700 pills a week and I was putting 400 mg a day up my nose. It was absolutely the most fun Iíve ever had in my entire life. I was having a blast, partying every day. Everyone is your friend when you have something that they believe they need.
My life was a non-stop party for 6 months. I was doing 5 or 6 40ís at work alone every day. I was having the time of my life. It was almost too good to be true. No, it was too good. I learned that all to well when it came crashing down on a fateful Saturday afternoon. Our pharmacy tech supplier got busted stealing the CII substance. He worked with a task force to bring my partner and I down and stop the flow of, by this point, about $12,000 worth of narcotics every week into the affluent suburbs. Well, a sting operation at an otherwise ordinary transaction landed us in jail. Since my partner was the one that did the talking and was recorded handing the money over on this occasion, he dealt with a lot more shit than me. I ended up getting released from jail the next day, while he stuck around and was interrogated for 4 days. He got out and was eventually sentenced to 60 days of jail with work-release after cooperating with authorities. My misdemeanor charges were eventually dropped after paying an arm a leg to a lawyer specializing in high-profile local drug cases.
One would suppose an experience such as that would stop me, but I still had a ravenous hunger for opiates and soon almost went broke paying consumer prices to support my habit. Finally, about 6 weeks after the bust, I checked into rehab and had an absolutely hellish 72 hour detox and went on a buprenorphine treatment program that I am still doing today.
So I sit here today, telling my story. It was an experience, for sure. There are things I would do differently if I could do it all again. Honestly, though, I donít wish it never happened. I stand by my assertion that those were the most entertaining times of my life. I love opiates to this day, and always will. Buprenorphine helps but itís not the same. I find myself longing for some OC or heroin at times, despite my 24/6 buprenorphine/naloxone daily dose. I really miss it. But more than that, I miss the relationships I used to have with my friends. After this whirlwind experience, old relationships just cannot be the same.
Opiates gave me tremendous pleasure. However, they also permanently revoked a lot of pleasures that I used to take for granted, but now long for.
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