Benzo's & Opiates = Death? - The Smoke Lounge

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Fazed
and dazed

Registered: 02/02/09
Posts: 1,783

Benzo's & Opiates = Death?

#706604 - 01/11/14 05:17 PM (10 years, 9 months ago)

So after a long and skeptical analysis of my experience I decided that I need to get it down to words in order to preserve my thoughts on this tentative series of events.

In in no way do I recommend that anyone try this specific combination of drugs. I was waY beyond foolish for entering the 'terra incognita' unwittingly but by a fucking miracle I was lifted out of semi consciousness and into the cold and bitter realms of reality...

...I had contacted my mother to come see me that particular night and previously had taken 4mg etizolam... something I had just got into and have grown to like. Etizolam appeals to me because I'm not innately socially adequate, it boosts the confidence in me when speaking to people I see little of and helps in all aspects of social interaction. That alone is more than enough, but on top of that it increases awareness and makes me to generally become more aware with added but subtle euphoric inclinations.

So you could say I picked up a little benzo-derivative habbit. I previously experimented with Etizolam, Flubromazepam, Diclazepam, Pyrazolam and a few others but Etizolam was always a favorite.

This particular night began with 4mg Etizolam. What I haven't stated is that these kind of drugs make me stupidly reckless. It's kind of like a confidence 'overload'. With me being already reckless, this was really pushing the button so to speak.
I made an opium tea previously that day and naturally, under the benzo spell, I forgot I had taken the Etizolam and drank the entire batch of tea. It wasn't until later when I began to realize I'd taken the Etiz but by then it was too late.

Before I know it I'm nodding like crazy, the hardest nods of all time in fact. I was loving every second of this mind bending euphoria which previously I had not encountered on this level. The classic opiate auditory-hallucinations were all the more pronounced and I was insanely condensed into that moment of utter bliss.

Then I realized my mother was coming over.
I literally crashed the second that thought ran through my already mashed brain...what to do???

I panicked and at the same time must have lost consciousness as my mother then arrived with my sisters.
The rest was a blur but I retain some of the events in my memory and what was told to me afterwards (although I never pressed my parents for details as I was too ashamed to)

From just realizing that my mother had entered my house with my younger sisters to then realizing I was in hospital literally spooks me to this day of writing this.

I awake from this bizarre reality; I'm sat on a chair in the local hospital! What the fuck indeed! This can't be real I tell myself. I look to my left and my fucking Dad is sat next to me! Suddenly I come to terms with what is happening; my mom came home and entered the house with a spare key I gave her and she saw me freak the fuck out; in turn I scare my sisters and in the hysteria, she calls my Dad to come quickly, he arrives and I'm carted to hospital like the a freak.

I come round in the hospital and turn to my Dad and insist that I'm alright and insist to take me home, he seems to acknowledge my pleas but does little. I notice how powerful the drugs I consumed are and am powerless to preventing them from affecting me and am continually drop in and out of consciousness.

Next thing I know the nurse is attaching these sticky pads to my legs and chest. I remember that she couldn't care less about my situation (and rightly so) and she merely attached them to my t-shirt and not my actual skin (even in this state I could comprehend that she wasn't doing her job properly).

A while later a different nurse pops in the room and asks me what I took. In my bewildered state I decline from giving her the specific information and just say "legal highs". She exclaims that there's been a lot of people been admitted to hospital due to legal highs and that there's been a lot of deaths too because of them. This memory sticks out in my mind quite strongly.

And that was it, from what my memory allows me to recall. I wake up the next day, with these sticky pads still attached to my legs and chest and peel them off. I get out of bed and ring my mom in which she tells me partial sequences of the events that had transpired and I feel super ashamed that I made such a grave mistake. I cannot undue what had happened though.

I will never mix these lethal drugs together again unless I plan on committing suicide. I know what it's like to die now, it's like falling asleep without vividly recalling the dreams. It's peaceful in a morbid kind of way. And I at least have taken that into perspective.

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