Thread: Drugs: To do, or not to do? Why, why not, everything in between.

Drugs, medicine, pharmacology, physiology. In this age, they're everywhere, the use is widespread, be it via prescribed pharmaceuticals or those of the illicit and illegitimately procured sort. This discussion may include the use of drugs as medicine, for spiritual, religious, or legitimate medical reasons, or for simply getting high.

What I am most interested in is the spiritual use and the use to simply get high, perhaps even addictive use. Are drugs, in this sense, worth taking? Do you view it as right or wrong, or perhaps in different terms, something one should or should not do? Why?

Personally, I use and abuse drugs. At first, when I started out, I viewed it as a form of entertainment much like playing a video game, a sport, or anything else. That, and as a creative tool for expression and mind expansion. Throughout my years of use I have become addicted and kicked the habit of at least 3 major drugs: Adderall, Dextromethorphan, Morphine. Stimulants, Dissociatives, and Opioids. By far the worst experience I had was with morphine, but the highest level of mental addiction was to DXM bar none. Adderall I got myself prescribed to because I figured out it affected me differently others, but I still enjoyed the good feelings it caused. I set out to get it in order to abuse it. After wasting away in my very short time in college and throwing away roughly $7k of education, going from 210lbs to 163lbs, becoming extremely paranoid and depressed, I finally learned to use it therapeutically, but had to stop due to joining the military. I always liked DXM, but I had never used it like I did until just before joining the military, and then it got stupid during my time in the military. I tripped about 2 to 3 times a week for about 3 months before getting shipped off to basic, and once stationed at Ft. Bragg, I used it about 5 or 6 days out of the week, usually during the week at 600mg+, and then on the weekends binging the fuck out at around ~1.3 to 2g of it. Things went on this way for a year a few months, until I learned to use it only to fight the mild depression and need to get fucked up everyday that I developed from such abhorrent use. My tolerance rose to a level that anything below 800mg, no one could tell the difference, which is fucked considering I used to be able to trip my dick off on 354mg alone. I finally quit it for good when I was so bored and wanted to experience a third plateau one last time that I took 3 bottles of robogels (900mg DXM HBr) and 5 oz bottle of Delsym (888mg DXM Polisterix, an extended release form that works via an ion-exchange in the gut) and started to come up and then, despite knowing I was fucked up and going to be unable to sleep for at least the next 12 hours, most likely 24, I reached the peak and felt profoundly sober. I actually, for once in my life, hated the drug, and now I choose not to use it. When I got out of the Army, I decided to use morphine a lot. I never even liked opioids that much to begin with, because all they did was make me happy and tired for about 30 minutes, then made me feel sober and very edgy and pissed off. Somehow I wound up taking around 180mg MS Contin a day for a few months and wound up getting so sick from withdrawal that I couldn't sleep, but had no energy even to move or live, my body hurt all over, I had the worst flu of my life, I craved the drug for relief, and I dry-heaved all day despite not eating or drinking anything. I actually had to be hospitalized once because I was so unable to keep fluids or food down that I had to go to the ER. I decided that the situation was all fucked up beyond recognition, so I knew I had to kick the habit. I read up on the internet how to best handle the situation, and used a combination of fentanyl pathches, morphine, hydrocodone, loperamide (Immodium AD, turns out it is an opioid that can cross the BBB but gets immediately pumped out by an enzyme or something to that effect), tramadol, and marijuana.

I felt I had truly lost sight of things. Drugs used to be fun, when I started they were just a form of entertainment. I had never become such a fiend that I hid drugs from people or wouldn't share with my friends, but I used to care about if somebody else was having as good a time as me because what else was the point? If they weren't as high as you or on the level they wanted to be, why use drugs? To be an addict, to ruin your life? I still shared drugs, and to friends, sold them at absurdly cheap prices if not giving them to them for free, but I had lost sight of what I had learned about drugs in the first place: Drugs seemed no more dangerous to me than driving a car or working in a factory so long as you took responsibility for your actions because they were just another good way to have a good time, express yourself, and to explore your mind, environment, and the universe. What had I become? A drug addict, but in a more literal sense of the word. I was not addicted to one drug, I was addicted to them all.

Then something changed, and I learned to be excessively moderate while still being cautious but not too cautious, adventurous but I knew better than to go too far down the rabbit hole even though I felt that is what I craved, to become truly insane. You see, when I was around the age of 12, for whatever reason, be it puberty, life, God, the circumstances that surrounded, I will never know, but I believed I no longer wanted to live and even deserved to die. I was a disgusting maggot, writhing in my own filth. No, I was the disgusting maggot writhing in it's own putrid stink to the point that I drug the entire world down with me into the bottomless cesspit of a singularity, the literal hell hole I had lived and thrived in. I saw no point in killing myself because when I would die, I would die. It was going to come, death is a guarantee, so experience life in this shit hole as it is and observe it. Human beings became objects and toys, they served only to please me, to fulfill my sick and twisted plots, musical whims, sexual fantasies, any of my desires. I hated them, they hated me, we were all equally worthless, myself being the exception: I was the epitome, the tip of the totem pole of the most filthy, disgusting, vile, sick, twisted, animistic, demented piece of shit to walk the earth.

What got me in this situation in the first place (using drugs) was when I got hit in the head with a discus during a conference track meet at my hometown, and I was the best discus thrower we had at the time. After that, things went so far south I didn't even know it was possible to become as depressed as I was. I hated myself so badly that I believed I deserved every single shitty thing that was happening to me and more, and I begged God to pile it on, because I was the most disgusting creature he had created yet. I hated those around me, questioned their motives, thought they viewed me from a purely sociopathic manner, and were merely using me for their entertainment in one way or another. From that point on, I became highly adept at detecting altruistic and false motives, wrong situations, deception, and owed never to be used again unless I chose to be and to use it to my advantage. I became a sociopath myself. I had to relearn to do everything. I got into anime because of my childhood memories of Dragon Ball:Z and Neon Genesis Evangelion, found this form, others as well, and started to explore the world. I became highly isolated, I never left my house and despite playing sports (for what reason I truly couldn't know, most likely because I wanted to at least be accepted and liked at school in order to make my life that much easier), became very dark, ever more violent (I reveled in it and imagined all the ways I could and would hurt, kill, torture, and mame people so that they, too, could feel the pain that I felt), probably a little schizo and very devilish. I did what I wanted when I wanted, and hated myself for it every step along the way.

Then, I finally decided to start being social again, and I knew in order to do this, I would have to do what I had previously shut myself off from and despised and thought only retarded people did, other than use them when prescribed by a doctor: Drugs. It opened my eyes some, I could live again, I could start to be happy. At nearly the age of 18 I decided to go ahead and get my license and at first, despite thinking it was dumb to do harder drugs, after trying DXM and realizing just how closed off I had been, I decided I wanted to experience everything: Life, Hell, Love, Hate, Religion, Atheism, Rock' n' Roll, Rap, (I had always loved video games so that doesn't count lol), the Military, Hating myself, Loving myself, Hating others, Loving others, Knowing why, and not knowing why, and knowing--why not? It was a hell of a trip, but I made it through the massive ego compression from being a little turd ball of coal and became a diamond in the rough. Now I understand why I do what I do, why I believe the things I do, I have no desire to die right now, but no desire to live indefinitely, and to treat my fellow human beings with respect and love because if indeed we are not the same person, we are at least all human. We make life a hell or a paradise, it really is our choice, though the choice is often seemingly violently and suddenly yanked out right out from beneath us like the proverbial rug. I opened my mind to opine. I decided to respect women, men, children, old people, young people, heroes, heroines, villains, God, the Devil, his Angels, my mother, my father, my sister, my adopted families (my truest and most secure bonds I have ever formed with friends), and everything in between. Even when, we deserve a second, third, fourth, whatever chance least, that is when we need it most. Why? For personal growth, but not just as you, but as me, as your mother, brother, father, and so on. We all deserve a second chance infinitely, every last one of us, even the most vile, putrid, filthy, disgusting, nauseating of us all. Because, when you think about it, why would a fellow brother choose to do this to himself? To his brothers and sisters, mothers, and fathers? Because he is confused and sick, and even if it takes time, drugs, sex, life, in existence, or anything in between, we have to remember before we forget, that we were all originally creatures that new nothing of the struggle. Nothing of humanity, and in order for us to move on, we must do the same.

So, now I ask you, do you think drugs are worth it? They obviously hold medicinal value, without a doubt, but are they worth they hell they can cause all in the name of having a good time and exploring the unknown? My answer is both yes and I don't know.

For me, personally, when I am older, I would like to personally quit using drugs for at least decades at a time to experience life in total sobriety, but, I know better than to ever say no to anything for good. There is a time and place for everything. Excessive moderation, foresight, and an unquenchable thirst for knowledge is what motivates me (despite feeling unmotivated to do anything human at all for years and wondered why I continued to play this stupid fucking game, why I hadn't waxed someone already, killed myself, or done something I truly regretted), and now that I have a taste of what drugs have to offer, I want to get to know them more.

I also want to get to know sobriety more. I want to get to know life more, and people more. But, should we continue to use drugs in the future for the purely pleasurable and exploitative aspects of the human psyche, or should we only use them as necessary to save ourselves from death before things are necessarily finished, prolonging the inevitable? I ask you, dreamviews. I want to know, I truly do. Love you guys.

- Snoop