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Showing posts with label Ecstasy. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Ecstasy. Show all posts

Friday 19 January 2018

❤️ April 2001 - Once Upon a Time - Ecstasy & LSD

I have only tried LSD once in my life and it wasn't very strong, so I wasn't tripping as much as I would have liked. It was around April 2001 whilst I was working for the telephone market research company in Wimbledon. This was my second job after McDonald's and my colleagues where from all warps of life.

Due to the nature of the job, you chose your hours the week before. The pay was low but you got decent bonuses. You could work up to three shifts a day, morning from 9am - 12.30pm, afternoon from 1.30pm - 5pm and finally the evening shift of 5.30pm - 9pm.

Anyway, due to that a lot of people worked in the medium sized office. Some people who only did 9am - 5pm. Some people only doing evenings. Ecetera, you catch my drift. The majority of staff were young people, students at college or university. Therefore taking drugs was a popular and predominant theme among most of the staff.

This is where I met new weed dealers (who I used for a good ten years after leaving there!), my first reliable pill dealers and then of course the odds and sods who where able to supply different types of drugs such as Magic Mushrooms, LSD and Speed. 

Of course, I was up for trying any new high. So when the subject of purchasing some LSD became the topic of our cigarette break conversation, I made sure everyone was aware that I wanted in.

It was D***** or D** as he preferred to be called, that was able to get them. D** was around the same age as me, 20. I can't remember for sure. Maybe he was a little younger, but maybe he was a little older. 

He looked older than me. D** was a bit grungy stroke hippy in his appearance, dress and music taste. Although, he was also in to hip hop big time, so at least we had some common ground there.

He had mousey brown, wavy hair that hung to just below his stubble covered jaw line. The stubble extended to create a messy goatee beard and mustache in a matching mousey brown. D** was quite pale as he wasn't a fan of the sun but maybe that was more noticeable due to the large amount of black, Asian and mixed race boys who formed our clique. 

D**'s wardrobe consisted of black, navy and khaki coloured baggy t-shirts, possible adorned with images of Metalica or Guns 'n' Roses teamed with baggy jeans or cargo pants. Worn very low. Tempting to yank down low.
D** was a heavy weed smoker easily caning a Henry in a day. He was a real laid back dude, always totally chilled, peace, love and harmony man. D** was also a pill head and he had joined me and my best friend Z** numerous times, for a few Friday night pills, spliffs and drinks at Zoe's flat. Anyway, once the subject of LSD had arrived, we had agreed to drive to Fulham on Friday after work to pick up some from his mate.


I met D** in the Wetherspoons in Wimbledon around 7pm on the Friday. I was drinking a large glass of wine and had not long taken a half of a new pill I had acquired. They were called Purple Spotted Mercedes and were round, an almost pale blue-white and complete with purple spots. 

They were a nice pill, you didn't get too hyper or tense. I certainly didn't gurn and chew the inside of my cheek as intensively as I did with other types of pills. When you came up the rush wasn't as strong as other pills. There was no mad dash to the toilet to be sick. No face turning crimson in seconds and sweat beginning to form. Definitely no speed, a common ingredient in cheaper pills. However they clearly had a little LSD or Ketamin added. I've never had Ketamin on it's own before. 

It's probably only one of two drugs I have never tried. I am aware of it's effects though. It mongs you, for example a lot of people who go out and take Ket, often end up half passed out on a sofa at the end of the night and end up wetting themselves. It's like they're aware, but their body is asleep and won't move. Ket can make you slightly hallucinate along with being a pain killer. 

I remember the anti-drugs cards we got at school telling us that someone on Ket had hallucinated and imagined a hole in the club wall. Apparently they repeatedly headbutted the wall in a desperate attempt to walk through their imagined hole. The pain killer prevented them from feeling the pain and the hallucinogenic ensured that they carried on harming themselves.
Back to the story, as a result the pills were not very speedy with only the MDMA pepping you up and slightly trippy so you were able to chill easily on them. Along with the glass of wine I was tripping quite nicely. I was drinking with my colleagues - Z**, the oh so sexy C****, J* and her boyfriend M***.

J* and M*** were proper skate park grungy looking. J* had deep brown eyes, very pale olive skin and short cropped black hair. Her hair was streaked with bright pinks, purples, blues and greens. She had at least 5 piercings in each ear along with her eyebrow, nose, lip and tongue. 

M*** in contrast had ice blue eyes and wore his blond hair shaved, in a mini mohekan. He had a piercing in his nose septum and two large circles in his ears. You know, those things that expand the hole. M***'s hole's were rather large and you could easily place a finger inside each. 

They were both fans of black. M*** in skater chic, baggy t-shirts and combat pants while J* wore black tops, trousers and skirts. She would always look fashionable, just not the fashion I would follow. Tonight she wore red and black stripy tights, a black, above the knee skirt and a black top that showed her fantastic cleavage and hid her slightly chubby tummy. The skirt had all kind of zips, pockets, buttons and flaps.

Z**, was in her skinny stage (a combination of copious amounts of Ecstasy, a well known appetite suppressant and a shitty boyfriend) and even though she was only 5'2, the 6 inch platform boots she wore, combined with her tight fitting trousers made her look as if she was super model stature. Her hair was bleached a light blond but she had about two inches of black re-growth coming through. 

Z**, had bright blue eyes and she too had an olive complexion. Like J* she too was pale but this was not through a fashion choice. J* actively avoided the sun and wore lighter make-up because that was the look she was trying to achieve. 

Z**,'s pale jaundice colouring was due to the shit time she was having in life. Regardless of this, having no boobs and bum, Z**, still looked hot. She wore neon pink eye shadow, dark purple liquid eye-line (on the top and bottom) and dark navy mascara.

Like me Z**, was wearing a fake, tight, cropped leather jacket similar to the ones made popular by Posh and Becs and a tight white t-shirt. Hers being a high round neck though in comparison to my very low cut v-neck. 

I thankfully had lost all my puppy fat by this stage and had gained the slender face to match the slender figure. I now was the proud owner of a pair of wicked sharp cheek bones. 

My thin plucked eyebrows enhanced my now large green eyes and my curly hair had been blow dried to an inch within it's life, pulled tightly straight and coloured in a very dark blond. My black jacket and white t-shirt was combined with a pair of tight navy boot cut jeans and black Reebok Classic's finished my look.

And C****  well he was just 6'4 foots worth of pure sex. Chiseled jaw, sexy eyes, mixed race, totally fucking amazing. 

We must have looked a rather odd sight in the pub, people from all different types of genre. Z**, and me were the 'pretty' 'fashionable', heavily made up girls who followed current fashions and aimed to look like sex bombs the majority of the time. C**** and D**  hip hop baggie cool kinda guys. Finally J* and M*** black, dark and grungy.
D** ordered a beer and came to join us at our table and it wasn't long before I had to turn the conversation to drugs. I mean, come on, it was my favourite thing.
'D**, we still good for later, yeah?'
'Sure man, no problems girl. After I've had this pint, I'll give ***** a call, see if it's cool to come down now'
'Wicked, I can't wait to try it, I've never done LSD before'

Apart from D** no one at the table had tried LSD, so he told us his tales of his LSD experiences. We listened intensively, kinda in awe of this tales. 

We all dabbled in drugs, but mainly cocaine, pills and weed. Chain smoking my cigarettes, whilst glugging down my wine, it wasn't long before my large glass had gone. D** too was almost finished, so I darted to the toilets before our journey.

My bladder was full, but emptying it would be as easy as I would have liked. For some reason when on Ecstasy, like heroin peeing is f**king hard! I don't know why, maybe it dehydrates you and your pee tube sticks together. That's what it feels like anyway, you have to seriously force yourself to pee. 

The number of times I was at my 'rents' house and had to turn on the bathroom tap or shake a bottle of water to encourage it, I couldn't count! 

Knowing this and knowing that D** would be waiting for me crossed my mind so before I entered the cubical I turned on the wash basin tap. It was one of those ones that you pushed down and after a set amount of time it would automatically stop. Pushing it right down hard, I darted into the toilet, pulling down my jeans quickly and whipping my thong to one side. Then I squeezed with all my might! 

Thankfully, just as the tap was turning off, a trickle appeared. I was finally relieved! Glancing down I noticed the familiar wisp of steam floating up between my legs. Again having a steaming piss was common place for me on a pill. Why it steamed I don't know. Clearly it must have been hot.

I stopped at the mirrors on the way out to check myself out. Boy, I was hot! For the first time in my life I felt truly attractive. After all the bullying at school and being the only girl in my year not allowed to play spin the bottle because I was too fat and ugly, I was now a swan. 

I had my fake tight leather style jacket unzipped below my cleavage, squeezing my boobs which make them look at least two sizes bigger. Wonderbra's were my saviour and I wore them heavily padded. I was a double D, so it wasn't like the guy would be disappointed when I took my bra off. I went from looking like a double D, to looking like a double E. 

My white t-shirt was tight and low cut and unlike Z**, s baggie round neck emphasised my slim waist and large boobies. My tight navy jeans skimmed on the floor and were ripped and worn at the back. I had bought them in long and they were too long for me when I wore them with trainers. 

My hair was long, the ends reaching my nipples and had been recently dyed a dark blond, mousey brown colour. My straight, slightly curled under hair style had been copied from Rachel in Friends. The colour enhanced my dark green eyes.

I had heavy eye make up, wearing dark grey eye shadow, teamed with black eyeliner, thick, smudged around my eyes and blended to the outer corners of my eyes. This was teamed with several layers of black thick mascara. 

My skin was slightly tanned and clear. I leaned towards the mirror staring into my enlarged pupils. My eyes had the expression of a fox, or other small animal before it got hit by a car speeding at 70mph. My pupils were so large, the small green rim could hardly be seen, but large pupils where sexy. I touched up my sparkly lip gloss and left the bathroom.

When I returned D** was already putting on his jacket, heavily dragging on the last few pulls on his cigarette before draining the last dregs of his pint. 

We said out goodbyes (me, feeling secretly glad as C**** was leaving too and therefore not left with Z**, ) and headed to my car. My first car was a E-reg, black, Mini Mayfair. I had a cheap tape cassette stereo and therefore my music choice was rather limited. 

The radio was pretty crap and the only tapes I had was Dr Dre, Chronic 2000, a couple of hiphop mix tapes and some old garage tapes.

I got in and opened the passenger door from the inside. D** climbed in and I placed the keys in the ignition. The buzz from my half a pill was beginning to fade. I had taken the half around 5.30pm when we reached the pub and I had drunk a bottle of wine in the two hours I was in the pub. I gave Z** the other half as I still had another three in my wallet. I decided I wanted a top up now and proceeded to take one out and snap it in half. I dry throated it and looked at D**.

'Do you want this half? Purple Spotted Mercedes. Really nice buzz. Not speedy, kinda trippy'

'Ummm.... Yeah.... Sure man. That's safe man... Totally safe Jen. You must've read my mind babes' D** replied whilst happily taking my offering.

I turned over the engine and turned up the hip hop. Our quest had begun. I asked D** what direction I needed to go to and he directed me. It was a warm spring summer evening and the air was kind of hazy. People sat outside drinking in pubs, walking dogs and generally enjoying the unusually warm weather. We wound down the windows and smoked one on the pre-made spliffs I had prepared earlier.

I have no memory of our conversation, although I know it was mad. As I started to come up the world began to look fuzzy and slowly bounced up and down, almost vibrating. My memory was fuzzy. My vision was fuzzy. Words sounded fuzzy. Pretty soon D**'s continuous mellow chat mixed with the low buzz of hip hop became one combined melody. 

The dusk became dark. The inky black spilling further and further forward, covering the pale blue that remained. Traffic lights began to sparkle, car lights twinkled and the street lights glowed neon. The heavenly little pill enhancing what is normally conceived as boring.

The main roads changed to residential. Residential streets changed to housing estates. And the housing estates to our final destination. 

Having never taken LSD before, I only purchased two. One for me, and one for my girl. We were clubbing tomorrow night and LSD would be a good addition to our drinking and pilling.

After our purchase we headed back to the pub. The 90 minute drive was reduced to 45 as the heavy, Friday night traffic began to ease. The others had gone by the time we arrived at 10pm. Me and D** didn't care, we drunk some more and topped up with another quarter of a pill each. At 11.30pm we left, skinning up in the car before we started our journey. I dropped D** at the bus stop and we said our tipsy goodbyes.

And the LSD that's another story.

Monday 8 January 2018

❤️ 1998 - 2015 - Once Upon a Time - My Journey To Legal High Hell

My drug use began with smoking cannabis. I was adamantly against drugs that was stronger. Aged 14 and a karate champion, I was more into sports, where I got my highs from winning championships in fighting competitions.

As I was unaware I had the disability ADHD at the time, but doing 8-10 hours of a strenuous karate, burnt off any excess energy I had. It was aged. 14-15 that I got my last nights' sleep without narcotic or alcohol assistance.

The lure of skunk and weed grew as I soon discovered, the girl who struggled to quiet her mind, had it quietened by this pleasurable green plant and aged 17 I gave up karate for fear I would be selected for a random urine sample at a tournament. 

By then I smoked huge amounts of weed. Choosing to spend my smoking breaks outside in the bitter cold, over the warmth of the allowed smoking rooms of the late 90's.

I was 17 when I first tried cocaine (I feel in love, but earning £3.15-£4.78 working as a Crew Member in McDonald's, meant cocaine was a luxury,at £30-£40 per gram) and ecstasy (£1-£10 per tablet, buying bulk secured the cheaper price) which soon be came my Drug Of Choice.

In order to recoup my costs, I starting shotting (selling). Buying St £1 and selling for £2.50-£5.00 depending on whether we were pub/bar/club whilst adding my own mental note as to whether they were able to sort me out should I take the pee and their experience with the drug.

Aged 21, I swapped pills for cocaine, which I also shot. I also added skunk to my remit for selling. By now I had also tried amphetamine, LSD, poppers and magic mushrooms. I had tested pretty much whatever I could, bar the big three. Crack, heroin and crystal meth.

Fast forward,5 years and cocaine (which became a huge addiction upon splitting from my boyfriend), was swapped for crack and opiates (Burprenorphine initially then heroin) was consumed to remove any crazy crack head fiending.




It took two years, but aged 28 I realised I was now slave to the dreaded opiate Master. I had just turned 29 and been addicted for a year, when I removed the dirty brown, and ensured I had buprenorphine from the street. I would crush a sniff three tablets well aware the bioavailability increased when administering through insufflation.




It wasn't until I reached 30, failed an attempt at withdrawing from bupe, did I finally seek professional help and self referred myself to Merton Community Drug Team (MCDT, soon to be Merton, Drug, Alcohol, Recovery Team or MDART.. 2018, now Engage Merton). The first time I visited I was interview by the psychiatric nurses, a senior team member. The initially crippling ashamed girl, isolated through chains she created herself, Ebenezer style, poured her heart out, no holds, no bars.




It was September and by November the Psychiatric Doctor had referred me for treatment for her ADHD.  This explained the immediate calming in my head upon taking a rock of crack. When I smoked crack, my illogical brain functioned like a normal person. Around 18 months after my key worker had referred her, and I had annoyed everyone, bouncing around the centre like Tigger at 9.30am before mental most people are fully alert. 

Finally two years after first attending MDART, aged 32, I  was treated for her ADHD by the Nutty Professor in December 2013. He soon was elevated to Godly status. Prior to treatment my head was a metaphorical kettle, all my stressed, anger and negativity would begin to invade my head, squabbling for most attention. More and more, and steam began to seep. Finally a blaze of crack, BLAM! Kettle off.  Now I had my saviour, methylphenidate (ritalin), and the same crack calming effect, minus the tacchacardia, damaged lungs and increase of cancer.

I had always worked, bought a flat at 25 and my house at 32. I was signed off due to my workload doubling and my means to cope removed. This caused me that much stress I managers suggesting I took the full six months off with sick pay. Prior to being prescribed methylphenidate I self medicate with ehtylphenidate. The legal high version. I had been spending £200-£500 per month




When attending ADHD clinic I met a other adult with the disability who frequently shot up crystal meth. He was healthy and full of life, any negative thoughts about shooting up were wiped away.

This is what pushed me to try heroin intravenously. The first two times it did nothing. Third time lucky though. It was now March 14 and I was aged 32.

As soon as I pushed that plunger, within 30 seconds it was 'WOOOAAAHHHH' I now know why people do this. I had what I can only describe, a full body orgasum. I was hooked.

It didn't take long for me to try ethylphenidate intravenously. Again I knew I could never take it rectally again.




The first rush hit me like a smack in the face. The rush was amazing and it  enabled me to cut down the amount I was using.

Within a couple of months by June 14, I had neglected to continue with my buprenorphine and methylphenidate scripts, with the latter being something I deeply regret.

I fell into a dark dank place where my life slowly became more and more consumed with getting drugs and using intravenously.

It didn't take long for my house mate to discover my works as I became more consumed with using and less bothered about discarding used works or hiding the ones I was using.

It was heroin that he tried first. Me finding and flagging a vein for him. I only did it once. After the first time I told him if he wanted to indulge in this disgusting habit he would be stabbing himself.

During the summer me and my house mate would finish DIY at midnight and retreat to the hot tub. However in October we took it down for the winter, and its removal paved the way for 24 hour using. Staying awake for 72 hours was common place.

We fell deeper and deeper into drug addiction. This is when my parents first 'created psychosis'. My friend truly believed there was another man in the house.

This caused massive arguments, and after one of these I finally disclosed to my friend I was using intravenously. She in turn told my father.

Inevitably the dreaded visit from him happened promptly. I was now weighing a pitiful 6 stone 10 pounds (94 pounds / 42.6 kg), only my promise of going to rehab seemed to satisfy him enough to leave me alone.




I returned to MDART, after a good 3 month break and was in detox within 10 days. An emergency admission.

However I still was trapped by the lure of using intravenously, something which was only halted with the ban on ethylphenidate in April.

I had a second detox and a stint in Springfield.

There's a replacement for ethylphenidate. Methylmethlyphenidate. I'm hoping I get my Concerta back as this was reduced and then removed in the two detox stays. 

If I'm told I can't have it back I'm likely to order some. But my medication means so means so much to me I'm holding out!

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❤️ December 1998 - Once Upon a Time - Ecstasy

The first 'hard' drug I tried was ecstasy and God, was it amazing. Seriously, if I could find E's like the old ones, I would be buying a massive batch now.

Pills these days are crap. I've taken a few in the last 5 years, and literally fell asleep 30 minutes after taking one. The best you could hope for these days is a decent amount of speed. No MDMA what so ever! The last decent pill I ever had, must have been around 2005/2006 when I went to Ministry of Sound, in Elephant and Castle on Boxing day. I got chatting to a DJ who worked in Spain. He was in the possession of some good old proper pills. Since then I've only wasted my money on crap.

It was New Years Eve 1998/1999 when I had my first taste. I was working in good old McDonald's whilst at college and a group of us were all going up town to some club one of my colleagues had free tickets for.

My new boyfriend, who too worked in McDonald's decided not to come, we had only been together for about a month, so I thought 'fuck it, screw him, I'm having a good time!'

We all met in the local pub and began the mammoth drinking session. It was around 7pm and
 me, my best friend C******* and my colleagues had all finished work for the day and had changed from out grease dented grey and green stripped uniforms into our best glad rags. The air hung heavily with a thick smoke from cigarettes as we downed our snake bites, martini's and ciders. I was beginning to feel rather drunk after a couple of hours drinking, and around 10pm, we hit the tubes to head for the club. 

C******* was a slim size 10-12 (UK, USA 6-8) had a pink rosey complexion and wavey, white blond hair, a little frizzy, that hung long and thick to her waist. She had icey blue eyes thanks to her mother's Polish heritage. She had large full breasts, a slim waist and larger hips and bum, earning her the nick name of Blond Jessica Rabbit.

I had yet to lose my puppy fat and wore a size 14-16 (10-12 USA). My chubby face hid my large eyes, the additional fat on my chubby cheeks also hid my razor sharp cheek bones. I too was large chested, but as an apple shape, lacked the curvy waist, and my narrow hips only increased the perception I was over weight. However teamed with chunky Spice Girl platforms and my hair worn with its natural corkscrew curl, I gave the impression that I wasn't too chubby and there was a vague figure lurking under my clothes.

It was that tube ride which changed my life. That tube ride that kick started my weight loss through indulging in stimulants. It would open up a world that offered so much pleasure, yet deathly pain. I was sitting next to R******, and as the tube started it grind to a half he turned to me and asked me a question that would change the rest of my life.

'Hey, J**, can you put this cigarette box in your knickers babes?' R****** asked.
'Yeah, sure, what's in it?' I replied curiously. Knowing it would be illicit substances my heart began to pound with anticipation.
'Just some weed, some coke, and a few pills' R****** replied.





My head began to spin, and it wasn't from the alcohol. Although I was pretty scared of pills after all the Leah Betts incident , I was also drunk, pissed off with my boyfriend's refusal to join me and curious about these pills.

'Can I buy one off you?' I asked with excitement. Before I had even considered  any negative consequences.
'Sure, £10'


I got my money out and promptly received my treasure. £10 was expensive back then, but I didn't know any better. 




The pill was strangely different from future pills I was to take, but back then I wasn't aware it wasn't the norm. It was a pale yellow pill, tiny and sugar coated (very unusual for pills to be sugar coated). No stamp, which is how you can recognise different pills. It reminded me of my contraceptive pill, and in my drunken stupor I dry throated it (taking pills without water) there and then.

We quickly changed tubes to the Victoria line, whilst I took the Silk Cut box from R****** and slipped it into my knickers, pushing it in between my legs, so the rectangular addition didn't show under my tight, Lycra red halter neck dress which shimmered under the harsh fluorescent tube train lights. 

I hadn't progressed to wearing thongs so I had no qualms over the safety of these new wonderful treasures now a part of my life. 

We sat down, me readjusting the cigarette box and engaged in a busy excited chatter that only colleagues aged 16-25 could be responsible for. The tube ride flew by and I had noticed any effects. It was only upon standing up when a rush from my tummy, rose into my chest, continuing to mu head. A wave of dizziness followed that. It felt like pure pleasure. Like ripples of indescribable happiness.
'I think it's starting' I said as I turned to R******.
'Is it?' A massive Cheshire Cat smile erupted on his face, followed by his trade mark, Frank Bruno-esq chuckle.

My eyes widened as the ecstasy began to continue its ripples throughout my body.

I kept in close contact with my friends as we joined into a mass crow, similar to little streams joining a massive, flooding river, as more and more groups of friends too jumbled into the huge mass of New Years Eve revellers. The air was static with excitement for what the night would hold. 

The icey cold December's wind startled me like a slap in the face upon leaving Oxford Circus Station, immediately turning me into Puff the Magic Dragon. Each breath exhaled created a cloud of condensation.

Soon we reached the club and due to our 10pm arrival time we bypassed the bustling queues that would be common place within 1 hour. We quickly found a table for our coats and my close friend sauntered over to the bar to fetch us both a drink. This is when I began to notice I was feeling more than just drunk. 

Whilst I knew I was sobering up from the alcohol due to the long tube ride, my head didn't appear to be sobering up. My vision was swaying to and fro, just like when you are very very drunk. 

However, the nauseating sickness that comes with being that drunk wasn't present. As I moved my head from side to side, it was as if a strobe light was flashing, that slow motion movement everyone appears to be doing, but there was no strobe light in the club.

In the pit of my stomach the most euphoric ball of love was beginning to radiate throughout my body, my veins and right to my head. 
'C*******, I'm feeling this pill I took,' I shouted over the loud music and eagerly swigged the bottle of alcopop purchased for me.
'I feel all drunk but there's no washing machine in my head'
'Is it good?'
'Yeah try one!'
C******* refused, I suspect petrified of her mother's discovery of such a heinous act. 

I had only had a couple of mouthfuls of my bottle of alcopop when I realised I probably wouldn't be drinking much more. The alcohol swashed synchronised to my dance moves. I felt like I was on a hover craft to the Isle of White.
'C*******, do you want this?' I shouted over the bass heavy garage music playing.

C******* staggered in my direction and snatched the bottle, almost losing her balance.
'ARE YOU GONNA BE ALL SOBER AND BORING?!'
'NO, I'M WELL FUCKED OFF THIS PILL' I replied.

Not long after the euphoria came the heat and feeling of sickness. My body began heating up and although I wasn't sweating apart from the single bead that dripped from my forehead, I was very hot. 




Suddenly mouth felt like it was full of sand 'C*******,  ANN YOU EASE GET ME A ARSE OF OUGHTER? (can you please get me a glass of water) my throat so dry a sandy desert looked moist in comparison.

I knew I was in no state to be mingling with the bar staff, I felt fucked, and most probably looked it too. C******* was my best friend, and although she was almost paralytic drunk, she was my saviour. 
Perfectly able to understand my messed up message and pretty soon after returned with a bottle of water.

I opened the bottle and knocked it back, however no sooner did I swallow the water, quenching my impending thirst, did I find it coming back up again. I knew I had 
minutes to get to the toilet. I raced the the though the club, pushing through the growing crowd of revellers, just managing to get my head over the bowl before I threw my guts up. 

And boy did I throw my guts up. I puked like I had never puked before, reching over and over again. I was surprised not to see my insides in the bowl when I had finished. I was now sweating from every pore and resting my head on the cool toilet wall brought great relief. 

All the alcohol I had previously drunk, the water, even my God damn lunch ended up in that toilet bowl. 'What a waste of alcohol' I murmured to myself.

But unlike alcohol sickness this was good. Before throwing up my stomach had felt like a water balloon, swaying through me with every movement. 

Now, my head was still swaying, my body still warm, and the big euphoric ball of love still running from my stomach, through my veins reaching parts of my body I didn't even know could feel like this. yet the washing machine in my stomach had vanished.

As I left the cubical, I did the obligatory rinse hands under water and caught my reflection in the mirror. My pupils had exploded into deep black holes. You couldn't even see the green of my eyes, just black. It made me look quite pretty if you could ignore the weird thing I was doing with my jaw.

I rushed back to my friends, 'C*******, I love you so much', I said upon reaching them. I wrapped my arms around C******* and kissed her on the cheek. 'I love you too' C******* slurred. She was still drinking, and barley able to stand.

R******, who was now buzzing as well, came over to me and wrapped his long lanky arms around me. R****** was an attractive black guy, not too dark, but about 6'5 and really skinny. He was smartly dressed in trousers and a shirt which he wore with the top few buttons open exposing the coffee coloured smooth skin adoring his toned torso.

'Have you come up then J**?' R****** asked.
'Yeah baby, fucking loving it' I replied, returning the hug, hanging from his shoulders. His aftershave now mixed with a faint man smell. Beads of sweat dripped from his forehead and as I embraced him, the damp patches of sweat which soaked his shirt began to soak my dress in turn.

I had never felt so much love in my life, the warm feeling in my tummy was alien to me, but I liked it. I spent the rest of the night systematically drinking water to quench my thirst, dancing and throwing up until my stomach was empty again.


Around 3.30am we headed home. One of the side effects of ecstasy is you really need to piss. A lot. For some reason ecstasy heats you up, drying out your mouth, so you drink a lot, hence filling your bladder. And then you need to pee. It's not rocket science is it!

It was only 10 minutes after leaving the club and my bladder was already busting. 'Hey, you guys, I need to take a pee', I said, leaving G*****, R******, C******* and the others, while I ducked down an alley. I wasn't the only one taking a pee, a black guy in his 20's was having one too. 
After some small talk (while I was squatting, very lady like), he turned around to me, still very much holding his dick in his hand and said 'Have you ever had some big black dick darling?'

Thankfully I was pulling up my knickers and I managed to reply 'Ha, much bigger and much blacker than that!'

We jumped on the night bus and headed back to G*****'s house. I had to be at work at midday new years day, and it was already gone 4am. I gladly took the offer of some spliff, knowing I needed to come down off this buzz, but some how I knew my attempts where in vein. I wasn't coming down for some time yet.

Around 6am I went with L****  back to her house where I was staying, and we climbed into her single bed, top and tale-ing to save space. I laid there dozing but not sleeping until the alarm went off at 10.30am.

'L****, I've had about 30 minutes sleep' I exclaimed.
'You still looked fucked love' L**** replied. My pupils were still abnormally large. Oh well, work had to be done.


I did manage to do my 8 hour shift. God knows how I did, but I did. I was still dancing around in the kitchen, frying burgers and eating food was out of the question!

When I finally got home to my parents house I managed to sleep properly, and boy did I sleep. And when I woke I knew that this little magic pill, this pill that made my night amazing, was going to become a big part of my life.

And a big part of my life it certainly was.

Thanks for reading,

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❤️ 1994 - 2015 - My Drugs Journey

So, how did it all start I hear you cry? Obviously I didn't start injecting drugs at 13. No one ever chooses or wants to grow up and be imprisoned in the chains of drug addiction.

But it is true what they say. Ok, not for everyone, but smoking cannabis can lead you down a slippery slope of drug destruction. I can bet that 90% of drug addicts started off on weed or alcohol. 

For me it all began around the age of 13, 14 I guess. I was doing well at school. No genius, but above average. At the age of 13 I was delighted to discover unscrupulous shop owners, were more than happy to sell under aged kids alcohol, just to make a couple of extra quid. 

The intrepidation of having to dress up, pile on the make up and act mature to buy the alcohol was just as exciting as gulping down K's cider, Diamond White cider, 20/20 Vodka and later Hooch and Two Dogs.

Hooch and Two Dogs were the most amazing creation ever. Ok, in comparison to today, the still taste gross, but back then, given the other options of alcohol, these tasted delicious. To this day, I still detest the taste of alcohol.



Around 14 I started going clubbing. Back then as long as you had a pair of decent boobs the bouncers let you in, no question asked. At first it was over 14 raves where you needed ID to buy alcohol. However their was never a shortage of over 18’s happy to buy drinks for us, and plenty of bottles of water with speed added into them. However, soon I progressed to over 18 nightclubs.

I discovered my cheeky-verging-on-naughty, erratic behaviour could be diffused with alcohol, so it quickly became a weekend staple due to the defusing effect it had on my ADHD. 

Soon alcohol was boring and I wanted a new buzz. Around this time a few of my friends had tried weed, and I wanted to try it too. The thought of smoking drugs sent tingles through my body, the same tingles I get now whilst waiting to score. I tried my first spliff at 14 whilst comatose from a huge drinking binge.

Cannabis was the beginning of my drug use. Prior to this I was adamantly against drugs, and at the time I was still very anti anything stronger. I was a karate champion and more into my sports. 

This is where I got my high. Winning karate fighting championships. I was unaware I had the disability ADHD at the time, but doing 8-10 hours of a strenuous activity of karate, enabled me to burn off the ball of anxious energy in my stomach. This meant I only had the ball of anxious energy, the self doubting one in my head.





By 16 I was buying weed regularly. The lure of skunk and weed grew as I soon discovered, the girl who struggled to quieten her mind, had this feat easily achieved by this delightful green plant classified as illegal.

This was the last time in my life I slept naturally without benzos, weed of alcohol.

My cannabis habit is what prompted me to quit karate aged 17 for fear I would be selected for a random sample at a tournament where my furious parents would be watching to add to my shame.

When I reached 18 I would be smoking weed daily in huge amounts in an attempt to self medicate my ADHD. This behaviour continued until I was 24-25. At one point each cigarette break I left the building choosing the bitter UK weather over the cosy smoking rooms of the late 90's early 00's, and smoked spliff after spliff attempting to soothe my head, and keep it calm.

The furious wind froze my slim figure to the bone. My fingers would change colour from scarlet pink to a dull blueish grey. But the calming effect it had on my chaotic head, was worth freezing for. 

I was the tender age of 17 when I tried cocaine and ecstasy. I immediately fell in love with cocaine. However, as a McDonald's employee my wages started at £3.15 and rose to a pitiful £4.78, meaning cocaine was a luxury. I couldn't afford £40 for a gramme lasting a few hours.

Ecstasy at £1-£10 per pill and lasting all night soon became my drug of choice (DOC). I could buy 100 pills for £100 and I only needed 1-2 for a good night out. The week long depression ensured I would continue to use again come the following weekend. I didn't associate the depression, with the come down from pills. 

After a night pilling off my face I would  spend 1-2 days after feeling shit, achy, tired, initially struggling to sleep. The week long depression which ensued after my nights out on E, was brushed off as being normal. 

It wasn't until I stopped taking E regularly that I realised the depression lifted. Only then did I come to the conclusion it was the ecstasy making me miserable. 

I would use ecstasy 2-4 times a week. During the week I would take half a pill, or maybe 1 whole pill taken in quarters. Over a weekend I could easily consume up to 4 pills on a mad night out. My record was 8, at Ministry Of Sound New Year’s Eve 2000 - 2001. These where the days when ecstasy was a very strong mix of MDMA and amphetamine. Well, clearly there were occasions when substances similar to LSD were also added to the mix. The pills I have had after 2007 have been mainly MDMA, which actually make me quite chilled, even sleepy. 

The old school pills kept you up all night, chewing your face off, violently vomiting when you ‘came up’, which often lead to you spraying any other party goers should you not make it to the toilet in time. 




Over time the price dropped from £10 to £1, if I bought in bulk. In order to recoup my costs I began to sell them £1.50 - £5. Close friends paid £1.50 - £2.50, so I still made a small profit. As far as I was concerned I deserved a little profit, as I was the one buying and storing a huge amount of pills. It was danger money.

Acquaintances or strangers got charged the higher price. If we were in pubs or bars the price would average at £3. In nightclubs I could easily command £5 from strangers. I would hear them protest and I would reply 'if you see someone more fucked than me, who'll sell you a pill for less, go for it. Otherwise I'll be dancing here'.

9/10 they came back. I'd enter the club penniless and leave with £50 in my pocket.

By 21, my new boyfriend didn't like me taking pills. So this was a big influence on my DOC changing to cocaine. By now I was earning considerably more money, so spending £40 for a gramme, was nothing. Most of my friends easily spent £100 on a night out, when you added up the cost of drinks, some nasty takeaway to soak up the alcohol and a taxi home.

Immediately I was hooked due to the calming effect it had on my brain. It took over from ecstasy and became something I'd use on average twice a week. Apart from the first couple of times I tried it, I soon realised alcohol was an important component of this high. Without it alcohol the high would be too jittery, you'd consume the gramme quickly counting down the minutes until it was acceptable to slip off to the toilet to do another line. 

Agitated, with taccacardia, you'd clench your teeth or cut your cheek gurning.

Alcohol smoothed the ride. With cocaine you could drink larger amounts and not end up mortal. You were chatty, sociable, fun, coherent. The life and soul of the party. 




I had also dabbled with speed, English speed, not crystal meth which is slowly now penetrating the London drug scene. Our speed is amphetamine not methamphetamine and is about ten times weaker. It's known as the poor man's cocaine. I had also tried LSD, poppers and Magic Mushrooms.

Then at 24 I met an old friend H****, who was into crack and heroin and being the type of person I am it didn't take long for me to follow suit.




It only cost £25 for a session where cocaine would cost £20-£40, and then the alcohol £10-£20, weed £10 and cigarettes £5-£10. Due to paying a mortgage saving money was preferable. I would smoke a heroin spliff first, then move onto the crack, having the odd weak heroin spliff throughout the night, before smoking the majority of the b (b, brown, heroin) at the end of the night so I could sleep. There was no grimy hangover, like the days after I had partied on cocaine. It’s well known that when you first use opiates / Heroin their is a rather deceptive after glow for 1-2 days. This gave the illusion of it being free from the usual suffering hangovers I had become accustomed to, which would hit me immediately the day after using ecstasy or cocaine. 

I've only ever smoked heroin in a splif when I had an addiction to it, occasionally off the foil and I only started smoking it when I began to score my own crack. 

Before I scored my own crack I would smoke with other users who had subutex (buprenorphine) prescriptions. They would let me sniff 1/2 to a whole 2mg.




When I began to score on my own I didn't have access to subbies. I had smoked b on these occasions. Due to the initial afterglow, those 1-2 days where all I felt was a little tired from the ridiculous time I would go to bed after my night of smoking; I certainly did not equate the night sweats, irritability, mild depression and slight body aches that I was regularly suffering come day 3 was related to myself withdrawing from subbies or B. 

How naive when I look back now.

So I started smoking crack and heroin more frequently. ‘I’ll get a good nights sleep’ I’d tell myself, after spending 3 or 4 nights tossing and turning, aching and sweating. 

I can remember telling my mother I believed my memory foam mattress was the culprit. ‘It makes me too hot’ I’d say. Still not realising the sleepless nights was the result of me withdrawing from the heroin smoked 3 days ago.

Pretty soon I was addicted to B. But as crack was my DOC, I would always purchase more of this than heroin. Initially it was 2 white and 1 dark, for £25. Soon 4 white and 2 dark for £50. This progressed until I was spending £100 a day on crack and heroin. 

Having a mortgage meant getting credit cards with £10,000 on them, was easy. 

At first I would make it to work, but by 10am I’d be tired, groggy and yawning. Tears streaming from my eyes. I’d be sweating one minute and freezing the next. 

I’d take my lunch break early and race to my dealer. By now I’d be feeling sick, and incredibly horny. If you didn’t know, opiates surpress your libido. So when you started to withdraw, you would feel horny as fuck.

Whilst waiting for my dealer to meet me, I’d set my phone to vibrate and sit on it. I’d orgasm within seconds. And would get 1-2 minutes relief from my withdrawal. Once scoring I’d drive a short distance away before stopping to skin up. I’d eagerly drag on the heroin spliff. Then, I’d open my car door and vomit. For some bizarre reason, when you’re sick withdrawing from heroin, when you finally smoked some, vomiting was inevitable. I’d maybe have a small blaze or two of my crack, before saving the rest for when I went home. 

Pretty soon I would ensure I saved a b spliff for the morning. And not long after I’d save the crack recycle too for the morning.

Recycle is when you scrap the inside of your pipe out, leaving you with a pile of brown powder filled with plastic or metal scrapings, depending on what you used for a pipe.

At the height addiciton I would smoke crack and heroin all day every day. I’d frequently visit the disabled toilet, standing on the toilet seat and exhaling the smoke into the extractor fan in a vein attempt to hide the smell. I worked in a place frequented with members of the public, meaning should anyone discover the smell of crack cocaine, the public, not staff would be the first point of call for placing any blame. 

Pretty soon, I was on my second £10,000 credit card when I went to withdraw my regular £100 when the machine bleeped and ‘Insufficient Funds’ appeared on the screen. 

As I had spent a ludicrous amount of money with my dealer M*** he kindly gave me £40 worth of heroin so I wasn’t sick over Xmas. But by now I was so used to smoking crack in order to be productive, whilst the heroin kept the awful withdrawal at bay, I was still miserable and unproductive.

However my addiction did not decline for another 2 months. I was temping at the time and discovered I was pregnant. My ex made it clear he would not support me financially. So I carried on using until my termination in January and only began to cut down in February. 




This was due to my maternal instinct kicking in so badly, I practically forced my cat allergic ex boyfriend into buying me two Bengal kittens. The first, a cheap runt, who I could only afford as the breeder reduced his price from £300 to £100. He was called Sinbad, but I had a student called Tsega. It’s an Eritrean name. The ‘T’ is silent, so it’s pronounced like the Sega as  in Sega Megadrive. It means gift from God and during this soul destroying misery I was consumed with daily, I felt I couldn’t find a name more fitting. Pretty soon Orion Pax joined Tsega. Named after Optimus Prime’s original name from the Transformer Movie. My ex chose the name and didn’t disclose the Transformer Movie bit. Orion means hunter and Pax, peaceful. So I had my peaceful little Hunter. 

Having my two fur babies meant I could no longer spend my last tenner on smoking when I needed kitty food.


 

Slowly but surely, I began to cut down on the amount of smoking I indulged in. 

Having ADHD meant smoking crack did not have any detrimental effect on the standard of my work. In fact, I won two awards for the work I did that year smoking crack and heroin daily. 

Come August, I had to change role. As I was a temp, my role, which was the easier of the two in the college, was snapped up by another staff member whose current role was being terminated. This meant moving to a much busier site, where all the senior managers worked.

Thankfully a good supply of subbies came my way. I slowly stopped smoking B every day and cut down smoking crack to 2-3 times a week, mainly in the evenings, but occasionally I would dance with the devil and have a little smoke at work. Still pretty bad, but much better than 6-7 times per week.

By 29, I had totally rid my heroin addiction, although I was still addicted to opiates through buprenorphine. I had a manageable addiction to crack smoking twice a week until aged 30 when I moved into my parents house to sell my flat.

This is when the legal high boom had reached its peak due to a substance called m-cat back in June 2013. I had been researching nootropics, but also began to research these legal highs or research chemicals. And this is when I discovered legal Ritalin. 

Due to a huge increase in work load I began to use it. It enables me to concentrate, complete complex tasks, keep focused and working after 5pm endeavouring to catch up.

But I never did catch up. I started off inhaling the ethylphenidate but it ruined my nose. I quickly realised diluting in water and using a syringe inserted into my back passage gave a much better high and less damaging.




When I got my Ritalin I stopped. I was still smoking crack occasionally and I stopped that too. Crack no longer had any effect on me. 

But the lure of ethylphenidate and legal highs grew stronger and stronger. This also coincided with meeting a fellow ADHD sufferer who was an IV Drug user. He was gay, and used meth. So was not your stereotypical IV Drug user. He was incredibly buff, clearly a body builder, and took incredible care of himself.

This ignited a fire inside me. I had always wanted to try heroin IV. So I did. And then one fateful day I thought to myself ‘I wonder if I can inject ethylphenidate?’. So, at 5am in the morning, just as the sun was getting bright, after spending another night awake using all night, I loaded the syringe with ethylphenidate, found a vein, flagged (drew back blood to confirm I was in a vein), and pushed the plunger.




Bang!!! 

Life over.

From that moment, not only was I addicted to ethylphenidate, but from that moment on, I only ever injected it. I couldn’t get out of bed without injecting myself, and couldn’t sleep without taking lethal amounts of opiates and benzos.




I stopped getting my Ritalin prescriptions around June.

October I was discovered.

Forced into detox in November. I was reinstated on Ritalin, but instead of being on 70mgs, my script halved to 35mg. 

I believe this was really irresponsible as the psychiatrist in the detox was aware my use of ethylphenidate was so severe due to me no longer getting a therapeutic effect from Ritalin. 

I returned to using. One day I’d take 70mg of Ritalin, the other I was back to banging up ethylphenidate.

January forced back into detox. Unfortunately I met Kate, who you’ll hear more about later. But she lied to the psyche saying I used to take my Ritalin to go out clubbing. I’m a fucking IV drug user. I don’t go clubbing. How the fuck am I smuggling my works in. Regardless to my protests, my prescription was stopped and I walked out, returning back to daily IV ethylphenidate use.

In April my parents lied to my drug psyche (I have written proof of this) and I was sectioned in Springfield. I smuggled my works, ethylphenidate, weed and benzos in their and used daily.

Towards the end of April I stopped injecting speed daily. Due to the horrendous abuse my family subjected me to. I reverted to smoking weed, crack and heroin instead.

Just to clear up any misconceptions, I'm not on benefits and have never claimed off the government. I am on long term sick, but was managing a large project earning £30k. 

I have a mortgage on a 3 bedroomed house. Have Merc. Kompressor (needs work atm), had Sky TV, hot tub, bar in garden, rescued pets, gave to charities, 

I'm intelligent and have GCSEs (10 passed with 6 graded A-C), A Levels (4), AS Level, C&G, NVQ Level 2, NVQ Level 3, IOSH (health and safety) Qualified, CPCAB (Counselling) Level 2, First Aid qualified and a Member of the Employability Institute meaning I can add MIEP to J** the Junkie (MIEP)

This is as well as other weird achievements like a catering qualification (McD's), 1Kyu Karate, Level 1 in kayaking and I think that's most of it.

I don't have any children, care too much for my pets, they're pampered. My cats had every toy from the Catit Interactive range, a £150 cat tree, fed raw meat, cooked meat, tuna and cat food. Whilst house cats they were walked daily. They even had cat DVDs.

My rabbit is never caged and is a house bunny with garden access.






I'm a good kind person. I just use drugs as my brain doesn't produce as much dopamine and serotonin as yours.

Twitter

@Gemma_Stalked

 

www.thefamousjunkie.blogspot.com


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JayElle Famosjunkey



#iwillbefamous #thetruth #Itsnotaboutthedrugs