A little bit of a boost is needed. I know, I know. Cocaine. Coke. Charlie. Hello. Hello. Hello. Holy shit. I've found the elixir of the drugs zone. Could a cocktail get any better than a line,
a pre-rolled joint, chased by an ice cold beer. You'd be hard pressed. This combination is so good you can't quite believe it. So you do it again and again. It's repeat subscription time.
Who says routine is boring?
See how much distance you can put in. If you joined up all the lines of coke you've done, how far would it stretch. To the moon. Mars maybe.
Perfection after working your eight hour day. You're entitled to relax and chill out. It's your time and you'll do what you want with it. Besides you're on shifts and your body clock has no idea what the fucking time is. Best that it doesn't as well. Because there's no way you could wake at six am to waste another eight hours.
Do enough drugs and life feels amazing. You perceive more, you never worry. Fear nothing. You find the right balance of real time and drug time. Of work and play.
Trying every different flavour you can get. One of these, two of those, I'll take a dozen. So much choice, so little time. Delivery as well. Excellent.
You get stuck in a routine. Your not a drug addict, you're a drug user. I don't steal televisions and mug old ladies. I work a full time job and enjoy myself when I can. This is how you start
the deception. You're fucking yourself over and you don't even know it. Not that you'd give a shit, you're wasted.
How many days have you wasted already? A hundred? A thousand? How many hours completely off your nut? Just so you can feel relaxed, chatty, and social. Pubs, clubs, gigs. Every night you've ever gone out. Were you ever sober? Does such a thing exist? Your mask is on and you're the life and soul of the party.
What you do not see - cannot hurt you.
Whenever I've hurt myself, I have to look at the damage before the pain sets in. I wonder if I had never bothered looking in the first place would I feel anything.
This is the advantage of drug taking. It goes in. The damage is done. And you never have to see it. Most modern drugs have pain killing affects anyway. Numb the body so you can’t feel the poison.
Cocaine is a strong central nervous system stimulant. It increases your heart rate, blood pressure, can cause bleeding on the brain, strokes. But when you're on it, all you care about is the high. You smoke dope and drink at the same time to balance the effects. What you don't know is that it’s actually causing more damage.
Given enough time, the damage will catch up with you. It'll happen so fast you won't know what's going on. One moment, you're at work doing the job you're paid to do waiting to finish. And the next your hearing things that don't exist.
If there is one thing cocaine guarantees other than a great high, it’s a great depression. After chronic use you end up taking it to feel normal. Secretly you know something is wrong, but you just can’t figure it out. The drugs are never ever to blame. Until one day the word paranoia takes on a new meaning.
Smoking dope, you might be paranoid that cops in a passing car can see the joint in your hand. You don't go out of your way to hide it. Just play it cool, cup it in your hand, breath out naturally. No problem. Coke paranoia on the other hand is unbearable to say the least.
Cocaine does something quite unexpected. It does something that neither the mind nor the brain can understand. Suddenly there is a volume switch to your thoughts. You're convinced that people can hear everything you think. And when this happens you're screwed. You actually start testing it. Anger takes over from calm; you start to get angry at everything and everyone.
It's said that cocaine has the ability to mimic many mental disorders. One of the reasons believed for this is cocaine's ability to play with neurotransmitters like dopamine and serotonin. Dopamine is responsible for feeling pleasure. Serotonin is responsible for things such as mood. If you mess around with these two then you are asking for trouble.
After extended use of coke, it causes the transmitters to flood, instead of flowing as they should. This puts you in a very confused, anxious, and agitated state.
You simply lose the plot. Complete. Total. Meltdown. Your psyche bleeds away into oblivion. The Id gets replaced by a circus act.
I don't know if chronic use causes some kind of infection in the ears, but it certainly seems like it.You can hear, but from your eardrum to your brain something is wrong. Auditory
hallucination just doesn't quite cover it.
It's as though you're hearing 3 or 4 dimensions at once. Whatever the damage is, your body is trying to tell you about it, but it’s lost in translation.
You get so mad that you're screaming in your mind as loud as you can for it to just shut the fuck up. At first you can’t quite figure out what's going on. Did you really hear that? Who fucking said that? What the fuck is going on?
The word crash takes on a whole new meaning. A train, a plane, a bus can’t crash as bad as you can.
The brain has evolved a series of negative feedback mechanisms. Their effect is to stop us from ever being truly happy for very long. The longer you take drugs, the more negative feedback you will receive in the end. Nature always gets its way. This is why, when going clean, people feel like they are dying.
All the stories you hear about going cold turkey shrivel in comparison to experiencing it first hand.
Of course the easiest solution is to not start in the fucking first place. But being that a future version of myself couldn't be bothered to invent a time machine and warn me that although I'd enjoy myself for years, it wasn't worth the withdrawal, I'm stuck with what I've got. Cheers.
Just whatever you do don't change the routine. Until you have a heart attack or a stroke.
Make sure it’s serious enough that you're unconscious for the withdrawal. Like a coma maybe. But only then. Because if you have to give up suddenly you're going to wish you were dead.
If there’s one thing I should have known about cocaine before I started it’s what it does after prolonged use. Or chronic use. Or copious amounts. It has what is called a predictable outcome.
People start off using it and feel fantastic.
But eventually all you feel is paranoia, anxiety and fear. At the time though you just don’t care.
If you could hear the real world again you'd be laughing. But you just can't get used to it.
When you suddenly stop hearing these things you can't quite believe it. Silence is too golden. You're afraid it could come back at any moment. And it usually does because you're thinking about it.
You’ve spent so long being crazy that a normal conversation is too overwhelming. It’s too normal. You get anxious wondering when you’re going to hear something that you shouldn’t.
The only thing you hold dear is that it can never be as bad as when you had no control over it.
Once you start feeling emotions again, most of the insanity will peel away as though it never existed.
You look back in time and cringe at some of the things you thought. Just because you believed that your privacy had been taken away.
Makes you wonder if all madness is, is a lack of emotion. Or a lack of properly feeling it. You can never again be afraid of emotion because as soon as it comes back, you hold on to it with a death grip.
Now you've got the vital part of yourself back you have to try to get back in to the real world.
It's daunting for someone who spent all day experiencing this kind of warped reality. It takes a hell of a lot of time just to feel normal. There's no more I think "I'll have a joint to calm my nerves."
The whole time you were crazy you never once blamed the drugs for doing it. Not once. Just goes to show you how much you relied on that endless cycle just to be yourself. Now that has gone you feel lost, confused, like a having a head injury. Except this is more serious than a bump on the head. Your skull is not protecting you from this injury it is only hiding it.
‘The Dreamer became the dream; birthed the illusion: woke in a nightmare.’
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