Citation: xxxyyy. "A Mediocre Drug: An Experience with Bromazepam & Alcohol - Wine (exp81839)". Erowid.org. Jun 20, 2018. erowid.org/exp/81839
I have used benzodiazepines extensively through my past in dosages that couldn't be described as therapeutic even with a lot of goodwill. I snorted them, mainlined them and off course taken them orally. While the number of benzodiazepines existing is incredibly large I still managed to take at least a dozen different ones at one time of the other and while they all act in pretty much the same way I have found that the effects a specific one can induce may be quite different from another. That being said, here's my last experience:
I was at a friend's house that I hadn't seen in quite some time and this was the second day of my visit. We had quite a lot to drink the night before so I asked for aspirin and voila next to the aspirin bottle was an almost full bottle of 6mg bromazepam tabs. At this point I hadn't used any benzodiazepines for at least three years and I really wanted to take some. I asked him if he would mind me taking a few and he was totally stunned that they were there as they obviously weren't his. At this point I had already drank a glass of red wine and was working on a second one. Long story short, I took about thirty tabs from the bottle and took four (24mg) with a healthy swallow of the wine. I wasn't in a very good shape that day, deadly tired as I hadn't slept all night and the past day's hangover left me feeling nauseous and mildly irate.
Well, fast forward maybe twenty minutes. Probably amplified by the alcohol and my empty stomach I could start to feel them going to work. First came the typical feeling of benzo onset that I love so much: relaxation, a light, airiness in my head and the chemical-induced feeling that all of my problems weren't so bad after all (sidenote: I've been struggling with clinical depression for some time now). I went outside, where the feeling intensified, grew in what felt like ripples through my body, altering my tactility. Things like clothing or my hair suddenly fest considerably different, somehow alien. This was in late October and although it was autumnally chilly outside the cold somehow failed to bother me, in fact the cool breeze on my face felt clean, pleasant. I finished off my wine while smoking, noticing that the wine tasted different, somehow more metallic and the cigarette smoke felt velvety soft down my throat. A few more minutes down the line my nausea and heartburn were notably subdued. I felt reasonably good, although the mild euphoria I always get from my preferred benzodiazepines like flunitrazepam, alprazolam, lorazepam and chlorazepat was completely missing, somewhat to my disdain.
Well I spent the next two hours of so having amiable conversations with my friends, the combination of alcohol and bromazepam considerably loosened my tongue. I had the constant desire to smoke, an urge quite similar to my constant craving for smokes when on amphetamines, opiates or larger quantities of alcohol.
I felt utterly at ease with myself and my surroundings and probably foolishly, continued to drink wine. At around 7pm the pill rush was starting to fade and I could feel that my speech had the slightest slur to it by now (something I normally never get from just a few glasses of wine). I had probably drank about a liter up to that point.
There were still things to do, I had to help carry some furniture out of an acquaintance’s place and before doing so I redosed myself with another 24mgs. Things got stranger after that. When the pills started to take hold I suddenly noticed that it took a lot of concentration not to stagger and bump into things and my mind seemed to wander for very short periods of time, not even seconds, but it was strange and a bit disconcerting. My speech had the faintest hint of a slur by now but no one seemed to notice. I still felt good, no question about it, I just had made a familiar mistake: a little alcohol complements benzos nicely but the line between a pleasant boost and complete behaving like a complete asshole is thin.
Anyway, to wrap this up, moving shit-heavy furniture from a fifth story apartment is a bitch on its own but when your sense of balance is impaired (even slightly) it fucking sucks. After carrying the most of the stuff out our host’s place she said we had to celebrate by drinking her best bottles of wine (there were a few more people present, helping). Now I’m not the type of person to ever decline such an offer even though I knew it’s probably not a very good idea. We stayed there for a while, drinking excellent wine and in my drugged state I had no problem to walk up to perfect strangers and engage them in conversation, something I normally never do.
I can still remember leaving the party or whatever it could be called, fairly drunk by now and the bromazepam high mostly replaced by alcohol intoxication. When we got to my friend’s place we had a few more beer and honestly, after a while everything is a blank.
All in all I have to say that bromazepam is probably the worst benzodiazepine I ever took. Like all drugs of that class it is relaxing and it works probably well as a hypnotic in larger doses, although it didn‘t do shit for me as an anxiolytic. If I am planning on taking benzos recreationally, I will stick to stuff like flunitrazepam, alprazolam, lorazepam… or even some of the more hypnotic types like diazepam, temazepam, flurazepam or chlordiazepoxide.
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