gl00mboy
New Member
- Nov 27, 2019
- 1
Alright so forewarning, I guess this is also a story too but I labeled it as a vent because its very all over the place and I just wanna get it out there.
Anyways, here's the story of my downward spiral
I started self harming in 6th grade and it slowed down (from like every day to maybe once every couple months) but got exponentially worse to the point where I was home alone once and went so deep that I couldn't walk, I nearly passed out multiple times, and the cuts were so deep they looked like valleys from the side. This was a few months after I turned 15 and I haven't done anything serious enough to count as a relapse since then.
It was around this time that I also started dabbling in some of the more hard drugs. Up until this point all I had ever had was alcohol and weed, but now I was getting into big boy shit. Xanax and alcohol was up first. I blacked out after taking enough of each to kill a full grown man twice. For some reason this wasn't a wake up call, but instead the entrance to the absolute shitshow I call my life. I dived in all the way, abusing painkillers that I got for my wisdom teeth removal, buying dmt from an old sketchy psych ward friend, doing every single drug I could get my grubby little paws on. Even DXM, which was ol reliable for a long time.
Fast forward to maybe 8 months later, my best friend invited me over to do coke. I did it, of course. I was a fucking fiend. This friend introduced me to MDMA, which I absolutely love, 2-CB, which is still one of my my favorite drugs to this day, and worst/best of all, meth.
Fucking meth. It grabbed me and pulled me in faster than anything else I had ever done. I really don't have an addictive personality; the only other thing I've ever been this fucking addicted to was self harm. But no, if you're wondering, it didn't ruin my life or any of my relationships or leave me homeless etc. All it did was make me happy. so fucking happy. It gives you energy and warmth and happiness and love and makes you feel like you could take over the world. It makes you feel like you've never been truly happy or had real energy up until that point. It's the greatest thing in the world. Until the comedown. Coming down from a 5 day bender is the worst feeling any human being could endure. You can feel (and hear) (and smell) your body trying to catch up with the shit you put it through. All of your organs, including your skin, hurt, you can feel your body trying desperately to keep from shutting down. But possibly worst of all, all of your dopamine is gone and it won't be back for a while. If you were depressed before, then oh boy get ready for your survival instincts to go down the drain. Except, you don't have the energy to do anything. Your brain is too overworked to function properly. Not to mention the crippling paranoia and delusions.
Went on a tangent there for a sec but it brings me to the next part. During one of our binges, we decided it would be a good idea to buy fentanyl off of a DM in an attempt to CTB. Now before this, I'd attempted but only with overdoses and such. Never with anything as potent as Fent. We had been awake for over 100 hours and I won't lie, my memory from those days is almost completely gone. But I do remember those last hours and the days that followed. I went over to their apartment at midnight, prepared the drugs, left our phones and we drove to a remote farm area in the middle of nowhere. At exactly 8:00 am, we said our last goodbyes to each other and took the Fentanyl. We laid in the backseat together, commenting on our hearts slowing down and breathing getting difficult and seeing each other on the other side. This all happened in the span of a few seconds. The last song that played before the car battery died was Toxic by Britney Spears. We joked about dying to that song.
It felt like an eternity until we woke up. Which in itself was a slow process. I experienced ego death over and over, had extremely vivid hallucinations that I thought would be our future. People I didn't know coming up to the windows, knocking and trying to get our attention. police cars and parents and news reporters pulling up behind us. This was at around 3:30 pm. At around 6-7, my friend started getting worried and looked for some way to get warm. The car was completely dead and we were out of gas anyways. All we could find was one thin bedsheet that barely covered us. We cuddled up and made sort of a cocoon.
That night was wild. Both of us saw helicopters and people coming towards the car with flashlights and police cars and strange hunters out to get us. They were all fake of course. I don't know how both of us saw the same things but it happened. I got severe hypothermia too. My heart kept stopping, my fingers and toes were black, I kept fading in and out and I felt the warmth that comes near the end. I was ready to slip off and so was my body. The only thing that kept me from going was my friend, who was sobbing and begging me to stay awake. I tried my hardest to stay conscious while they tried their hardest to speed up their hypothermia. Eventually we both passed out but my body kept jolting me awake with the sound of my friend yelling when I would start to fade away.
We slept through the next day and woke up in the evening. We hadn't eaten in 6 days or drank water in about 3 days, and we hadn't come prepared. We spent the next hour or so moving everything from the trunk to the front seats, folding the backseats down to make a flat surface, putting on extra clothes we found, and eventually found one can of soup, half a bottle of root beer, and a pop tart. After forcing some of it down, we tried distracting each other. My friend was convinced someone was writing on the car windows to send us messages. One other thing I remember for some reason was the dead battery kept making the back window pop open so my friend kept having to go out and shut it. I don't remember much, but eventually we fell asleep under the sheet and woke up the next morning to police asking if anyone was in the car. I'll skip over the rest because it's just the hospital, but overall, all I got from the experience was some brain damage that lasted a month or so and PTSD triggered by the song Toxic, helicopter noises, and driving around rural areas in the snow.
After that whole fiasco, I've decided to be passively suicidal, as the title suggests. I will continue to do heroic doses of drugs and be reckless and I won't take any preventative measures to save myself, but no purposeful overdoses or attempts on my life. I will allow my organs to degrade on their own and let nature take its course. My guess is I'll either die of multiple organ failure or accidental overdose (place your bets (; ). Either way, I look forward to it.
Anyways, here's the story of my downward spiral
I started self harming in 6th grade and it slowed down (from like every day to maybe once every couple months) but got exponentially worse to the point where I was home alone once and went so deep that I couldn't walk, I nearly passed out multiple times, and the cuts were so deep they looked like valleys from the side. This was a few months after I turned 15 and I haven't done anything serious enough to count as a relapse since then.
It was around this time that I also started dabbling in some of the more hard drugs. Up until this point all I had ever had was alcohol and weed, but now I was getting into big boy shit. Xanax and alcohol was up first. I blacked out after taking enough of each to kill a full grown man twice. For some reason this wasn't a wake up call, but instead the entrance to the absolute shitshow I call my life. I dived in all the way, abusing painkillers that I got for my wisdom teeth removal, buying dmt from an old sketchy psych ward friend, doing every single drug I could get my grubby little paws on. Even DXM, which was ol reliable for a long time.
Fast forward to maybe 8 months later, my best friend invited me over to do coke. I did it, of course. I was a fucking fiend. This friend introduced me to MDMA, which I absolutely love, 2-CB, which is still one of my my favorite drugs to this day, and worst/best of all, meth.
Fucking meth. It grabbed me and pulled me in faster than anything else I had ever done. I really don't have an addictive personality; the only other thing I've ever been this fucking addicted to was self harm. But no, if you're wondering, it didn't ruin my life or any of my relationships or leave me homeless etc. All it did was make me happy. so fucking happy. It gives you energy and warmth and happiness and love and makes you feel like you could take over the world. It makes you feel like you've never been truly happy or had real energy up until that point. It's the greatest thing in the world. Until the comedown. Coming down from a 5 day bender is the worst feeling any human being could endure. You can feel (and hear) (and smell) your body trying to catch up with the shit you put it through. All of your organs, including your skin, hurt, you can feel your body trying desperately to keep from shutting down. But possibly worst of all, all of your dopamine is gone and it won't be back for a while. If you were depressed before, then oh boy get ready for your survival instincts to go down the drain. Except, you don't have the energy to do anything. Your brain is too overworked to function properly. Not to mention the crippling paranoia and delusions.
Went on a tangent there for a sec but it brings me to the next part. During one of our binges, we decided it would be a good idea to buy fentanyl off of a DM in an attempt to CTB. Now before this, I'd attempted but only with overdoses and such. Never with anything as potent as Fent. We had been awake for over 100 hours and I won't lie, my memory from those days is almost completely gone. But I do remember those last hours and the days that followed. I went over to their apartment at midnight, prepared the drugs, left our phones and we drove to a remote farm area in the middle of nowhere. At exactly 8:00 am, we said our last goodbyes to each other and took the Fentanyl. We laid in the backseat together, commenting on our hearts slowing down and breathing getting difficult and seeing each other on the other side. This all happened in the span of a few seconds. The last song that played before the car battery died was Toxic by Britney Spears. We joked about dying to that song.
It felt like an eternity until we woke up. Which in itself was a slow process. I experienced ego death over and over, had extremely vivid hallucinations that I thought would be our future. People I didn't know coming up to the windows, knocking and trying to get our attention. police cars and parents and news reporters pulling up behind us. This was at around 3:30 pm. At around 6-7, my friend started getting worried and looked for some way to get warm. The car was completely dead and we were out of gas anyways. All we could find was one thin bedsheet that barely covered us. We cuddled up and made sort of a cocoon.
That night was wild. Both of us saw helicopters and people coming towards the car with flashlights and police cars and strange hunters out to get us. They were all fake of course. I don't know how both of us saw the same things but it happened. I got severe hypothermia too. My heart kept stopping, my fingers and toes were black, I kept fading in and out and I felt the warmth that comes near the end. I was ready to slip off and so was my body. The only thing that kept me from going was my friend, who was sobbing and begging me to stay awake. I tried my hardest to stay conscious while they tried their hardest to speed up their hypothermia. Eventually we both passed out but my body kept jolting me awake with the sound of my friend yelling when I would start to fade away.
We slept through the next day and woke up in the evening. We hadn't eaten in 6 days or drank water in about 3 days, and we hadn't come prepared. We spent the next hour or so moving everything from the trunk to the front seats, folding the backseats down to make a flat surface, putting on extra clothes we found, and eventually found one can of soup, half a bottle of root beer, and a pop tart. After forcing some of it down, we tried distracting each other. My friend was convinced someone was writing on the car windows to send us messages. One other thing I remember for some reason was the dead battery kept making the back window pop open so my friend kept having to go out and shut it. I don't remember much, but eventually we fell asleep under the sheet and woke up the next morning to police asking if anyone was in the car. I'll skip over the rest because it's just the hospital, but overall, all I got from the experience was some brain damage that lasted a month or so and PTSD triggered by the song Toxic, helicopter noises, and driving around rural areas in the snow.
After that whole fiasco, I've decided to be passively suicidal, as the title suggests. I will continue to do heroic doses of drugs and be reckless and I won't take any preventative measures to save myself, but no purposeful overdoses or attempts on my life. I will allow my organs to degrade on their own and let nature take its course. My guess is I'll either die of multiple organ failure or accidental overdose (place your bets (; ). Either way, I look forward to it.
