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I Learned My Lesson the Hard Way
Cocaine
by A S
Citation:   A S. "I Learned My Lesson the Hard Way: An Experience with Cocaine (exp85460)". Erowid.org. May 11, 2022. erowid.org/exp/85460

 
DOSE:
  repeated IV Cocaine

BODY WEIGHT: 135 lb


It's been a few years since my nightmare of injecting cocaine finally ended, but I'll never forget the time I had while using. It felt good at the time, my three-month-long IV coke binge a roller coaster, without the ups and downs, but very fast, and no 'downs' until it ended. I had done cocaine before, but only by snorting it, and never in the huge quantities I used during the last few months of 2007. I don't believe I'll ever know exactly why I traveled so far down the path of needles, bloody messes, and hopeless addiction, but I do know how I got there, and what it did to me.

I had just lost my (very well-paying) job, and fell into a rut of depression and anger.
I had just lost my (very well-paying) job, and fell into a rut of depression and anger.
I wanted something to take the “edge” off, and, since I had done coke before and liked it, thought coke might do the trick. So, I set out to find a couple of grams, and then settled down to do a line. It disgusted me. I ended up sniffling constantly, and since the sniffling occurred in conjunction with the coke-induced jitters, it seemed an obvious sign to the people around me that I was on coke.

Not wanting the sniffles, but not particularly concerned about the jitters, I did some research online, and found out that cocaine could be injected. In my research, I found out about the rush a user could get from injecting cocaine that he would never get from snorting it. Excited, I went to the local pharmacy, and very confidently asked the pharmacist for a box of insulin syringes. I was quite nervous about the purchase, as I assumed I was committing a crime by buying the needles, but to my surprise, the pharmacist asked no questions, and gave me no trouble.

I went back to my house, and locked myself in and the world out. I went into the bathroom, cleaned the counter, and proceeded to lay out the materials I was about to use. As I was looking at them, my hands started shaking, and my heart began racing. I knew I had to calm down before sticking a needle in a vein, lest I make myself bleed all over. I was very nervous about shooting up, but I wanted it too badly to quit. I sat on the toilet, and made myself relax. When my hands finally stopped shaking, I put about a “line's worth” (100-200mg) of the cocaine into a spoon I cleaned with alcohol. I knew that everything I used had to be clean. I then put approximately 1mL of water into the spoon with the coke. Mixing the water and cocaine together with the plunger of a syringe, the cocaine dissolved completely, leaving no particulates. It looked sort of oily. I carefully dipped the end of the needle into the spoon, and, not using any “cotton,” sucked up the oily liquid. Having very prominent veins, I did not tie off my arm. I took a breath, and slid the needle into vein, and pulling back slightly on the plunger, saw a bright red plume shoot into the syringe. I knew I had hit my target. At this point, before I pushed the plunger in, I became surprised at how I knew how to do all of this. My heart began racing again. I began pushing the plunger in, ever so slowly. Before I had injected even half the mix in the syringe, my ears began intensely ringing, and I felt like I was on top of the world. I quickly pushed the rest of the red-tinged liquid into the vein, pressed a cotton ball to the injection point, and slid the needle out.

I was hooked.

After my first IV experience, I didn't want to stop. I took at least 5 needles, a spoon, alcohol swabs, and my coke, everywhere I went: to school (I was in college at the time), to my new job, to the mall, at home, even on vacation with my fiance. I was hopelessly addicted to shooting up cocaine. I was steadily losing weight, going from 140 pounds, down to about 90 pounds. I looked sickly. My belt had about four extra holes in it. My ribs and cheekbones stood out against my skin. I couldn't get an erection. I had bruises on my arms, from blown veins. I had lost all forms of the carefulness I had practiced the first time I injected. I didn't care about anything, or anyone, not even myself.

This continued on for almost three months, at the end of which I was arrested. To this day, I am not entirely sure of what happened, because my last shot almost killed me. I had suffered a massive overdose, at my work. I had injected more than five grams over the course of about 10 hours. That led to a seizure, cardiac fibrillation, and a coma that lasted around a week. I was accused of trying to kill myself via overdose, and was committed to a psychiatric crisis unit, after which I was arrested, and eventually found guilty of felony possession charges.

I've been on the wagon for over two years now. It has had it's difficult times, and I still get cravings, but for the most part, I simply look back at what happened, and realize, drugs and me don't mix very well.

Exp Year: 2007ExpID: 85460
Gender: Male 
Age at time of experience: 23 
Published: May 11, 2022Views: 604
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Cocaine (13) : Alone (16), Addiction & Habituation (10), Preparation / Recipes (30), Retrospective / Summary (11)

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