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My Experience of Substance Abuse

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19 Reviews
  • Being a human guinee pig
  • It's expensive, It's Illegal, You are often forced to comit crime to feed your habit, You lose your self respect, It ruins your life
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      04.12.2008 00:22
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      The social climate isn't right these days to get the best from the experience

      Cast your minds back, if you can, to the very early 1970s....the era of the long-hairs, cheesecloth, patchouli, espadrilles, tie-dyes, Kensington Market and afghan coats.

      I was young, I was curious, and it was in fashion. I'd been in the company of lots of other people who were using it regularly with no problems, and they all seemed to have a very good time. I was told that it's safe so long as you use it with a certain mindset, and that it is who you are rather than what it is which can make it potentially dangerous (that's something I still agree with). Before I did it, I researched it thoroughly, and learned that as a substance, it is actually harmless from the toxic point of view, but that for some people of certain psychological types, it can mess their minds up forever (a cruel experiment was once carried out whereby a cow was given 6 gallons of it to drink, and though she suffered severe mental disturbance until it wore off, there was no physical damage whatsoever). Only a miniscule amount of it is needed - an amount which is less than what would cover a pinhead - to produce what is the most powerfully mind-altering experience that mankind can have.

      If you haven't already gathered, I am talking about the drug LSD (lysergic acid diethylamide) - more affectionately known as acid....one acid pill (of the strength they used to be back in the 1960s and early 1970s) being something like 800 times more powerful than the effects of ingesting a whole gram of high-grade cannabis.

      One night whilst at a small social gathering around a friend's house, I was offered a little red pill. I had been offered acid on occasions before, but had always refused - this time though I took the plunge and swallowed the red pill. I immediately began to feel nervous just in case I was the type of person who'd be susceptible to bad trips, but was told that Dave (not his real name) was "babysitting" the rest of us, and would make sure nothing bad happened.

      Rock music was blaring from the record player, a few joss sticks were burning, and I looked at the other people in the room....waiting for something to happen. After about 20 minutes, I told the others that I wasn't feeling anything; Rob (not his real name) answered that I wouldn't feel stoned, but that very soon I'd start to notice certain things changing all around me. I followed his advice, and just sat on the floor, leaning back against someone's (not sure whose!!) legs, whilst idly sipping from a can of Coke.....I had noticed that the room begun to look a little strange; sort of yellowish. Angles on furniture were beginning to look sharper, and colours looked cleaner and brighter, with much more depth and richness than usual.

      My mind began to wander, but I didn't think of this as anything unusual or to do with the acid, because I daydream all the time; then Dave said something to me. His voice sounded odd, as if it had been put through a synthesizer....so I looked at him. As my eyes swivelled towards him, I saw a flash of swirling colours which swept across the room in line with my eyes, then vanished. Dave's face appeared odd, but in a way I couldn't quite put my finger on. It still looked the same as usual....just weirder. I stared at him trying to make his face look normal again, then I noticed these two red blotches growing in the middle of his cheeks. For some reason I didn't like that very much, so I cast my glance elsewhere. My eyes rested on the wallpaper pattern, which was zig-zags and squares in different shades of brown, and in the middle of every square on the wallpaper, an image of Dave's face with the red blotches on his cheeks, was imposed. For some reason I found that funny, and couldn't stop laughing. Nobody took any notice, which I was relieved about as if they'd have asked me what I was laughing at, I wouldn't have been able to say.

      Everything settled down for a while, and I began to really get into the music with a depth of involvement that I'd never experienced before. I can't remember what was playing (would have been some kind of early 70s rock music, as that's what my crowd were into), but the music was coming at me in jerky, zig-zag lines of colour, mostly blue and red. This was more of a mental impression than a visual hallucination - a syndrome known as synesthesia, which is a kind of crossing of sensory perception, where we can perhaps hear or taste a smell, see a sound, or touch a thought. I was enjoying this colourful display in my mind, and when the track on the album changed, I stood up to go to the loo.

      The walk to the loo (which was the adjoining room) seemed like hundreds of miles, and I felt as though I was walking above the floor, rather than on it. Once inside the loo, I did what I went there for, and while that act was taking place, I noticed there was a small splinter of wood on the door. I studied this splinter of wood, and had never seen anything so beautiful. I could see it in a million dimensions, and felt as though I could even tell what tree in what forest of the world it had come from. The fibres of the wood splinter were undulating gently, curling in and out of one another in a sort of purple-ish hue. Then what seemed like less than a second in time later, somebody was banging on the door, calling my name and asking me if I was OK. I shouted back that I was, and I quickly made myself "decent" and returned to the room where everyone else was. They all asked me where on earth I had been and what I'd been doing - they thought I was ill or something, so had sent Dave to check that I was alright. I couldn't understand what they meant, as I'd only gone to the loo and come back again as I or anyone normally would, but I'd apparently been sitting on the loo for more than half an hour, totally having lost all sense of time whilst studying the wood splinter on the door. That half an hour had felt like less than a minute.

      I took my place on the floor again, and as I sat, I felt the tufts of the carpet as if they were huge stalks of corn brushing against my legs. The noise it made was almost deafening, and I looked around, startled and fascinated simultaneously. Mostly, the other people in the room were being quiet....just sitting, tuning into sounds, colours and images of their own....and the music played on. I began to feel cold, and noticed that the curtains were swaying back and forth....I asked Dave if we could perhaps have just one window shut, as the wind was blowing up and I was chilly - he told me all of the windows were shut, and that it was just the acid making me perceive the curtains as blowing around. He stood up, went to the bedroom, returned with a pink blanket, and wrapped it around me. It felt beautiful, as if I was a baby being nurtured....I suddenly became aware that I was sucking my thumb. The rational part of my mind told me it was a stupid thing to do, but it was so comforting, that I carried on - after all, nobody else was taking any notice.

      I closed my eyes for a while and watched time elapse in large pink clouds behind my eyelids. I was visualising a million clocks, and from somewhere a group of monks was chanting a madrigal that heralded the start of a new phase of life....this new life would be a warm bright green, just like the emerald I felt was stuck in one corner of my mouth. I chewed on the emerald, swallowed it, and it rested....with a warming sensation....in the middle of my stomach. I found that feeling very reassuring and safe, so I opened my eyes....as I did, there was a huge bursting feeling around my mouth, and a large bouquet of roses spewed forth from my lips; I could even feel the green stems and the soft petals brushing against my tongue. I wanted to cut these roses off and save them for posterity; I opened my bag and took out a pair of nail scissors, all set to gouge half my face out with the intention of cutting the roses from my lips....thankfully the hallucination only lasted a split second, passing quickly before I could do myself any damage - then Dave walked towards me in what looked like slow motion....he took the scissors from me and placed them back in my bag.

      Rob was sitting cross-legged on the floor, drawing on pieces of paper with coloured felt-tip pens. I was fascinated by the colour combinations he was using, so moved in closer to get a better look. As I walked over to where he was sitting, the room tipped away from me, the floor slanting downwards as if a sheer precipice - then immediately, it sprang back up the other way and was a solid wall in front of my face....before re-settling into its rightful, flat position. That image was a little unnerving, but I was by now aware that this was the acid working which was giving me these strange illusions and hallucinations. I watched Rob creating his abstract pattern with the paper and felt-tip pens.....his shoulder-length blonde hair was sparkling, giving off little ripples of blue electricity, as he lay on the floor, childlike, scribbling away. The orange blocks that Rob was drawing, were interspersed with blue and yellow stripes.....I then became very nervous and frightened, because it appeared to me as though the blue and yellow stripes were fighting with one another for supremacy over the orange colour. I told this to Rob - he just smiled, and said "Orange always wins".....on hearing that, I felt very sorry for the blue and the yellow.

      One of the girls was sitting sobbing in a corner - Dave was trying to comfort her. She kept on saying repeatedly that nobody believed her.....when Dave asked her what, she replied that she hadn't yet been born, but people kept telling her she was being ridiculous, and they couldn't see that she wasn't yet in existence. For some weird reason, I could understand what she meant, so I just said "I believe you" - she said "Thank You" in what sounded to me like a deep, booming and rather echoey voice which reminded me of a scorpion.

      There were periods during the acid trip where there were no illusions or hallucinations taking place at all.....though I later learned that in itself is an hallucination.

      What I've described above is only a handful of strange visions, sensations, mental images and visual hallucinations I had during that first acid trip. Though there were a couple of uneasy moments, for the most part it was a very enjoyable, surreal experience which I repeated several times over the next couple of years - none of my trips were ever bad....I was lucky!

      That night, Dave drove me home....I crept indoors trying not to wake the other people in the house, and I went to bed. I lay down with the light on, watching the most incredible light show take place on the ceiling, before dropping off into a shallow, somewhat fitful sleep in which I was travelling on a red laser beam faster than the speed of light, through time and space, hurtling beyond the edge of the universe and into another dimension.

      The following day when I awoke, the trip had worn off and I had no after-effects other than feeling a bit mentally delicate. The world had gone back to normal, lost all its colour and vibrancy, but at least it was a safe and predictable world.

      I'm not sorry that I took acid, as combining my first trip with all the others which followed later, the drug helped me tune into a part of my mind I'm sure I'd otherwise never been able to access, and that part of my mind has stayed open - contributing greatly to the creation of the person I am today.

      I certainly wouldn't recommend anybody to dash out and immediately start taking acid in order to have these startling visions, openings, increased levels of awareness etc., as in the years following my first trip, I did see a few of my friends suffer from some very unpleasant experiences whilst under the influence of LSD.....just to mention one as an example; a very good female friend of mine who sadly is no longer with us (incidentally, her death many years later wasn't drug-related in the slightest) was run over by a car and had to spend a long time in hospital recovering from incurred injuries. It was January, a cold dark night, and whilst on a powerful acid trip, she decided to go for a walk at 2am in the middle of the nearby motorway wearing nothing but sunglasses and a scanty bikini - hallucinating wildly, she believed she was strolling along a tropical beach in hot sunshine. She stood, arms stretched in an almost messiah-like fashion, in the path of a car travelling at approximately 80mph; the car struck her, and she ended up having to spend 7 weeks in hospital, followed by a 15-week period of convalescence.

      I'm not proud of taking acid in my youth....but I'm certainly not ashamed. It was something I simply grew out of, and is one of my life's more rewarding experiences, on a uniquely personal level. Why did I take it in the first place? I simply wanted to know what it felt like, first hand....and yes, the warnings passed to my generation by our worried parents and the sensationalist media, were ill-informed and panic-induced. Of course it is true that acid is an incredibly powerful drug, but it's my opinion that the danger in it lies from the fact of it not being intoxicating....e.g. you don't feel "stoned" whilst you are on acid.....you feel the same as you do in your ordinary state of being, which makes all the weird stuff that's going on in your head, very real at the time. If you felt intoxicated/stoned whilst under the influence, I believe it would be much easier for someone having a bad time on acid to put it down to having taken the drug. It also has to be said that probably similar to alcohol, acid doesn't bring anything out that's not already there....it acts as a trigger.

      Thanks for reading!

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        19.10.2008 03:24

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        just pretend everyything ok and maybe it will be..

        realy mixed up.Imgoing to C/A but turn up on somthing.thats bad and I hate it cos its not fair on the people there that are clean.I would do any drug,Iv lost all my self respect,Im missing my x so much,if I told you what he did you couldent understand why.Hes been gone a year,thought it was time to move on so when dregs asked me to go with him,I did.we smoked crack and I tryed realy hard to love him but couldent.I gave him a hard time,afer 4wks I finished it.THEN guese what?found out got the bloody clap off him.so hear I am doing all the stuff I did before,but all alone and miss my x gary so so much.see he was the controler,the brains,cunning and scheming,hard as nails,I swear he was super human.he was hard on everyone even me. he hated tears or sign of weakness.he shut me in the cuboard under the stairs for 3 hours once for complaining of tummy cramps(I was clucking)so I became the hard bitch he wanted to please him,dare noy ever show my feelings.then there was the dark side of his past before I met him,he coldly told me how he put his x head through a glass table cos she took too long coming back with gear.yeah,gary.I miss him so so much...my life has no perpose or meaning without him.

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        14.10.2005 10:29
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        If someone you know is in the same situation,NEVER ABANDON THEM

        I started taking drugs when i was thirteen,this began with Hash,smoking joints,bongs,buckets e.t.c. As i was so young i was still at school and when my GCSEs came around i really wasnt even there mentally.
        Somehow i managed to get a good enough pass rate to go to college to study Art which has been my talent my whole life. Around this time i was very depressed, going out drinking and really didnt care if i lived or died.
        Then Heroin came along.
        I tried it with one of my friends and it felt like a big soft blanket surrounding you,taking all the bad thoughts and problems out of your head and giving you a feeling of complete contentment, Like i had found what i'd been looking for, no more thinking, no more problems everything slipped away...
        First i did it only at weekends, then i found i wanted it more and more regularly,not physically but when it wasnt there all the bad stuff came flooding back like a tidal wave.
        Then one day i coldnt get any money but didnt really think about it,after a couple of hours i felt like i had a cold coming on so i took a couple of paracetamol and tried to forget it but i got progressively worse throughout the night, i thought i had a real bad flu or something,well in the morning i got some money and went to get some more heroin, i told the guy i had a bad flu and felt really crap. As i sat and started chasing the dragon (smoking it on the foil) i suddenly realised my 'flu' had disappeared instantly. 'Thats not the flu love' the guy said, 'youve got yourself a habit'.
        Only then did it dawn on me that i actually had a heroin addiction, i just thought i had the flu!
        Over the years i went from smoking to injecting, the withdrawl from injecting is far more severe and instant than smoking.
        I've had to feel withdrawl symptoms every morning for the past 7yrs.I have no veins in my arms, my hands have swollen because of the tiny veins i destroyed in them, my thighs are covered in pits from abcesses, lumps and scars i know will never go.
        I have to cover my legs at all times.
        I have stolen off of my family, i feel so bad i cant even describe it, but that second when you need the money you dont think of anything else but getting the money for Heroin.
        Your family think you dont care but you do, your trapped in your own body which is being controlled by this drug, if you dont get it you will get extremely ill.
        Its not even to get high anymore, its just to be able to function the way normal people do anyway.
        If someone in your family is in this situation you must never leave them, just make sure valuables are locked away espesially wallets and handbags, i could get money out of a bag in 2 seconds,thats all the time it takes.
        The worst thing is being abandoned by your family, make it clear you will be there to help, but only when they really want it,un-fortunatly you cant force it,they will go straight back the first chance they get.
        Luckily my family stuck by me, even though my brother hates me for what i stole from him and the effect it has had. But now im off Heroin although still on methadone and am slowly getting my life back together.
        About 4 yrs ago i was told to get off it so i went along with what people wanted me to do but in my head i knew i wasnt ready yet and so i stayed on,but there gets a point or you get to a point when youve had enough of the lying,stealing,shop lifting just for the next fix, it gets too much to handle.
        Thats what happened to me so now im 23 and im glad ive got all this out of the way while im young, hopefully i have the rest of my life to enjoy drug free.
        I would like to work in forensics, study violent offenders to find out what makes them tick to try to find a solution to the growing problem of serial murder.
        If my family had abandoned me i would be dead.
        Dont ever do that.

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          16.10.2003 23:54
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          Drugs can be extremely pleasant to use but also very destructive and dangerous. Most of us take risks on a daily basis we cross roads, we use public transport, we walk through underpasses, and we drive cars. If you look and listen before crossing a road the chances are you wont get run over. Doing a line of cocaine, smoking a joint, taking LSD or popping painkillers are all risks. When you take any drug you need to weigh up the risks. I am a teenager who has suffered from substance abuse and it is very much a roller-coaster ride because you go from feeling great to s*it awful. Once your on this very volatile roller-coaster it can be hell to get off it. Fortunately for me I didnt let the situation go from bad to worse. I realised I had a problem with drink and I genuinely didnt want to drink anymore but I was using for a very good reason. I was in therapy turning myself inside out and a lot of emotions came up. The fact was I had to numb these feelings because they were unpleasant. The therapy is paying off now and I am getting on with my life. More than anything education is needed. I think we need to take the Amsterdam liberal approach so that the dangers and benefits of a drug can be assessed by the individual who wishes to take a drug. We need to abolish this taboo attitude towards drugs and get things into reality. The fact remains that many teens and adults experiment with drugs and they need to be properly informed of the possible risks and dangers. I know this is a short-review but I ask you not to rate the length but the points I make. Thanks a lot for reading and I really look forward to hearing your opinion on substance abuse.

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            16.10.2002 20:43
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            • "Being a human guinee pig"

            I took Ecstasy from the age of 16 - 23 (im now 24). I remember the first time I took it, I was barely 16 and was at World Dance with a few friends. One of my mates offered me a pill and I dropped it as everyone else was. After 15 minutes I thought it was enough time to feel something and I didnt, so I took one more. 40 minutes later....OH MY GOD!! It was the most intense feeling ive ever felt and this feeling of love swept over me. At first I couldnt see properly, it was like I was dreaming and I was walking everywhere with my hands out infront of me as I was scared id walk into something. It took a while to get used to this feeling and I spent most of the night sitting with a ring of people I didnt even know, just chatting. Im normally quite shy but I couldnt shut up. Nor could I stop moving. My jaw kept jarring to one side all by itself and I couldnt stop it. My head was moving from side to side and my hands and feet were tapping on the floor. I felt like jelly all over, especially my head. On the occasion I did get up to dance it was amazing, dancing seemed so much easier and the energy I all of a sudden had. Plus theres the atomosphere. Strangers were coming up to me male and female telling me they loved me and I generally felt the same way towards them (at the time) and we'd promise to be friends and go out raving together. I must have chatted to around 50 people that night, its almost like family. Then of course it would start to wear off and I felt embarrased by what id said to people and extreamely moody and withdrawn. All the love and exhilaration I felt was replaced by shear exhaustion and the worst 'hang over' of my life. I also was grinding my teeth so much I actually wore them down. But that night changed my life. From then on I was hooked. I started going out every Friday and Saturday to get high, and I did this constantly for about 3 years. Occasionaly I would do speed but it didnt make me feel fucked in the head like Ecs
            tasy did, Speed to me was more like a body drug where as Ecstasy messes with your head aswell. When I was 19 I tried to give it all up. Me and my friends (most of whom im ashamed to admit I encouraged to do pills) decided to stay away from clubs so that we would not be tempted to do drugs. We tried to reason with ourselves that the next pill could kill or hurt us. We stayed off it for around 8 months...but then came New Years Eve. From that night I was hooked again and it remained this way until I was 23. The periods in between uses were longer though. Id maybe do it once a month instead of every weekend, as I knew I shouldnt be doing it. Also I was getting older and wiser I started to realise I was playing Russian roulette with my life also I wasnt enjoying it like I used to. I have had a few nasty experiences whist under the influence. My legs have given way from underneath me a couple of times, ive had excruciating chest pain and ive thrown up the lining of my stomach. Ive also stared at wallpaper for 6 hours once without moving, and on one occasion I was so high I couldnt see properly or speak. Ive seen things in clubs aswell. Ive seen people collapse and being carried out, ive seen one person have a fit and lose conscienceness – ive even seen someones lips turn blue. I remember I went on an Ecstasy binge once and did it eveyday for a fortnight. By the end of it I couldnt breath standing up and had to walk everywhere bent over, id throw up green shit and didnt eat or sleep. I lost about a stone in that fortnight and had terrible nightmares. Ecstasy would also make me very greedy, if I was coming down and had no money id beg strangers in clubs to give me money to buy one and ofen had to kiss them to get it, which of course I did - I was desparate!! Ecstasy 8 years ago doesn't compare to some of the junk they make now a days. I remember when one pill would keep you going all night - I would dance for around 6 hours. No
            w if I did one (depends of course on which) Id wanna mong out - this discussion ive had with countless other clubbers my age and they all agree. If you have been taking pills recently in the last couple of years you wont know any different - but for us oldies who have been doing it for many years we have definitely seen a decline in the quality of pills. Towards the end of me using I would go out up for a good night - and spend most of the evening fucked out of my head sitting on the stairs talking complete bollox because it wasn't giving me the energy it once did! I started to think what's the point (although some of my best nights were had sitting on the stairs talking complete bollox, I must admit) and started to lose interest. The last time I did a pill was in summer 01 in Ibiza - I had not done any for around a year so I was really looking forward to it. I took 4 and it felt like id done a half, where as my other mates where off there heads - I knew I had been taking it for so long I was building up a tolorence to it. Over the fortnight I took about 3 a night EVERY night and ive never felt so ill in all my life. Every time I would just spend my night with my head down the toilet but every night I would do another 3 in the hope it would be different next time. I was getting maybe 3 hours sleep a night and was living off water and soup as its all I could handle - during the day I was a zombie and heat just made me feel even worse. I looked 10 years older with bags under my eyes but still I carried on doing it. It wasnt until I got home that I realised how sad and pathetic I really was and just how sick it was making me. I looked like a rake and my skin was fucked. I had to take a week off work to recover from that holiday and I havnt touched pills since. Over the years I reckon ive taken around 1000 pills (id hate to see what my insides look like)! I must admit since staying off pills ive lost interest in clubbing aswell as its
            not the same going and watching everyone else having a good time. Plus come 2 in the morning im tired and want to go to bed (where's my cardi and slippers)! I cant say ive noticed any health benefits a such since staying off it- ive put on a bit of weight (I was a bit skinny before) and my skin looks much better (Ecstasy has a wonderful way of bringing out, not spots but boils on your face). But since ive been 'E free' ive suffered from depression, anxiety and panic attacks - im now on anti-depressants and everyday is a constant battle with myself (self inflicted and well deserved)! When people ask me if I would turn the clock back and change what I did, I probably would not (sad isnt it, but im being honest)! Some of the best times of my life were had when I was out with my friends on E but at 24 I thought enough is enough. I dont want to depend on drugs to have a good time and in a way it has ruined things for me in that respect. Im still young but I dont go out anymore. People try to say Ecstasy is not as bad as alcohol but I dont think thats true. If you take it you are a human guinee pig, a pill doesnt come with ingredients therefore you dont know what you taking or the damage your doing, but at the time - you just dont think of things like that. When your young you really do think your invincible. Its only recently ive started to regret what irreversible damage I may have caused myself. **ABOUT ECSTASY** Ecstasy has been around since the 60's but didnt really become popular until the late 80's and has influenced music in a big way. Studys have claimed that over half a million pills are taken by us Brits every week - more than any other country in Europe! After being swallowed, the ‘pill’ is quickly digested in the stomach, reaching the brain, and the bowel area where most of the dose - 65% -will be metabolized, passing through the kidneys and the liver soon after, thence excreted in the urine. A sma
            ll percentage - some 7% - stimulates the brain where the natural chemical serotonin, an amino acid neurotransmitter, and a potent oxidising agent, is released allowing the flow of information around the brain, altering your mood - similar to the effects produced by adrenaline. The best way to avoid problems with drugs or alcohol is not to use them in the first place. However it is naive of us to think that preaching is going to make a huge difference in the amount of people that take pills. I have therefore compiled a list of tips. These tips are not intended to replace advice from doctors, or incourage people to use - its simply here to help make using a LITTLE BIT safer. **TIPS IF YOU ARE DOING ECSTASY** If you feel sick, put both your wrists under cold running water for 30-45 seconds. Usually feeling nauseous is due to rapid body temperature increases, and this is the fastest way to cool down. If you suddenly get cramps in your hands or feet, have some salt or some marmite and they should go away. DRINK WATER! It is very important to stay hydrated while on Ecstasy. Most people get thirsty, but even if you don't, should always drink lots of water. Remember also that drinking plenty of water (and or Lucozade) will stave off leg muscle cramps if you've been dancing for hours on end. However, don't drink too much water. A few people have died on E from drinking too much water, perhaps because they thought water would make them come down. Unfortunately, water does not counteract the subjective effects of MDMA. Water only counters dehydration. One pint per hour is plenty. Take breaks from dancing. It is easy to dance for long periods of time while on E. Even if you have lots of energy and are feeling great, you should take breaks regularly. Stay cool and avoid very hot environments. Small venues packed full of people can often get very hot. If you are feeling uncomfortably hot, go outside and get some
            fresh air if it is allowed. Be careful of hot summer days as well. If you plan to do E outdoors, make sure there are some shaded areas where you can get away from the broiling sun for a bit. Also, stay out of hot tubs while you are on E. Wait a while between uses. The longer you wait between uses the less tolerance you will build up and the less you will be tempted to take higher doses the next time in order to achieve the same effect. Taking higher doses each time to achieve the same effect eventually stops working. On the day you do Ecstasy fill up on fresh fruits and vegetables that day and get lots of rest, after taking it you wont feel like eating much so try to sip fresh orange juice and take vitamin supplements. Because ecstasy is a stimulant, the come down is like speed. Once your mood is no longer artificially elevated, you may sink into anxiety and depression. You will experience how tired and hungry you really are (you do feel empty). You may also notice a laxative effect aswell as feeling exhausted and irritable. Its best to try to come down with people that are on it aswell - try to go back to a friends house so that your not alone. Dont mix Ecstasy with any other drug. Cannabis is ok in small amounts but its best for you to stick to one or the other - never mix with alcohol. Alcohol worsens the dehydration already occurring in your body. It also lessens your ability to detect the warning signs your body may be giving you. Please stay with people you know, dont ever go off with anyone.

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              09.02.2002 01:57
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                24.11.2001 01:37
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                Let me tell you about my experience of living with a drug addict who is my own sister, and the effects it has on the family. There was once a very disturbed 14 year old, always stealing from her mother, staying out, running away, and causing the family a lot of heart break. So one day she was sat down and asked what was wrong, the reply she give will stay with the rest of us forever, she had been sexually abused since the age off about 5 and only now she was brave enough to tell us what had happened. Also she was a drug addict using everything, injecting heroin and everything else she could get her hands on. She got pregnant at 15 and had the baby taken off her, she is no longer allowed to see him, she burgled my mums house, robbed all my clothes and gold, my mother forgave her and let her move back in, she repayed her by robbing her again. She has robbed of us countless times but you have to forgive, but she never stops doing bad to us and the family. As long as she has her daily fix she does not care about anyone, she will use anybody, steal rob, just for a hit. Let me tell you what she once said ''it is the needle that I am addicted to'' so you see sometimes it is not just the drug, it is the needle, that is why it is called needle fever Can you imagine how it feels that you cannot trust a member of your own family in your own home, and everybody that you know, know what she is like. She is now in prison at a very young age for murder, isn't it sad that a girl who could have made something out of her life, turned to drugs and got pulled into that world, and could never find a way out. Do not underestimate the power of drugs, what starts off as I will try it once, turns into a nightmare that is hard to get out of, drugs are very addictive and evil, and they cause you to do things you would not normally do.

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                  15.09.2001 21:35
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                  • "It's expensive
                  • It's Illegal
                  • You are often forced to comit crime to feed your habit
                  • You lose your self respect
                  • It ruins your life"

                  MY BACKGROUND ************* I am a respectable computer professional without any criminal convictions, working for a large public organisation. Twice in my life I have been deeply involved in drugs. There is hardly any street drug I haven't tried. Please don't get me wrong, I'm not proud of it. The first time I was 20 years old. I took Speed, Ecstasy, Cannabis and LSD for about a year and drunk heavily. I was psychologically addicted to speed. I have experimented a couple of times with Magic Mushrooms. The second time was quite recently, I am now nearly 32 years old. While living with my addict girlfriend, I soon found myself seriously physically addicted to Heroin. This lasted for a desperate 4 months. I also regularly took Crack and have experimented a couple of times with Cocaine. THE FULL STORY ************** I have decided to come completely clean about my recent experiences, although for security reasons, I won't name my girlfriend. It all started over 6 months ago when I was off work suffering from severe depression. I was prescribed seroxavat antidepressant tablets. After a few weeks I discovered a strange inner strength. I started drinking, as this seemed to give me a higher buzz while mixed with the tablets. I seemed invincible while going out, harder and stronger. I decided to go away to Bournemouth for a few days on a drinking spree to take full advantage. I met my new girlfriend in a bar in Bournemouth at around 8pm on a Friday night. With my newfound strength and invincibility, I was hard and nasty to her. This seemed to work as she chased me around town and phoned me up the next day when we met up. There was something about her and I started falling for her quickly. I worked hard on her that day and got her back to my B&B that night. On returning to the B&B, she insisted on having a serious discussion with me. She told me that she really liked me and didn&#
                  39;t want to hurt me. She wanted a long-term relationship, but explained that I wouldn't like her when I knew her. She admitted she had been a heroin addict since her children were took into care and explained that in the recent past she had been forced to work as a prostitute to feed her habit, she even told me about her serious criminal record and activities. I was even warned about her unstable nature and psychopathic temper, also most of the time recently she had been sleeping rough. She said, "You have got a car, a good job and you can afford a B&B, don't throw this all away?". Firstly I made it clear I wasn't going to be a client, but like a fool I told her that I was still interested and would give her one chance. To cut a very long story short, she agreed to come back to Birmingham to try and get off the gear. I live in a small flat. For the first few days in Birmingham, I absolutely loved having my girlfriend around until her heroin supply started running low. Heroin was clearly by far the most important thing in her life. She said that she had no choice but to go back to Bournemouth to earn some money and score, but would be back. As it happened, within five minutes of being in Birmingham City Centre, she got herself an introduction to a dealer avoiding the trip back (it was that easy). Within a few weeks she got to know string of dealers in Heroin and Crack, soon I found myself struggling to feed her habit, to avoid the alternative of her committing crime or worse working the street. When she hadn't got heroin, she became violent, I have been forced into various fights with her that have involved her punching me and throwing large objects, she even stabbed me with a fork. Often fights would end up in tears, with hugs and kisses. She wasn't all bad, most of the time she was a wonderful person. I know she loved me and really did try her best to stop her violence. She even signed up for professional help to get of the g
                  ear, but they just put her on a long waiting list to be assessed. I learnt about my girlfriend's awful upbringing of abuse, I can only give a small summary of some of the many ordeals she has been through. Her mother was a drunk who throw her down the stairs before she was taken into care. Her mother is now dead. She has various scars along her arms where she tried to commit suicide. She has suffered extensive sexual abuse, to the extent that getting raped isn't even a big deal to her. Nothing and no one scares her any more. Once she managed to get her life together and was living together with the father of her 2 children in a large house with a mortgage, however with her family reputation Social Services were never far away and soon took her children away from her. Despite court proceedings, they are going up for adoption. It was then she started taking heroin. Before long she lost everything. The father ended up an addict too. They both ended up homeless and soon broke up. I have seen happy pictures of her in the past cuddling her children. Then she looked like a normal healthy, respectable decent person, now she is a very thin wreck (but is still extremely beautiful). After about a month of living with my girl friend, I decided to try heroin once, she strongly disagreed with my intention, but I insisted as I wanted to understand heroin to understand her better. WHAT A MISTAKE! The first time I took heroin, I only needed a small amount and it gave me a lovely relaxing sense of well being, I felt no nasty after effects at all. A few days later I decided to try it again and again, no nasty after effects. Soon I started thinking and looking forward to having it, my girlfriend was extremely worried and warned me off, but I was having none of it. Within a few weeks I was having a small amount of heroin every day, this went on for about another month. My girlfriend did everything to stop me, but by now I was secretly hiding my own gea
                  r away. Everything felt okay, until after the first day I didn't have any heroin. Everything seemed normal at first until the following morning when I woke up. It was the worst feeling I had ever felt in my life, sweating, stomach pains, extreme anxiety and depression beyond anything I had ever felt before, I just wanted to curl up into a ball and die. I begged my girlfriend to give me some heroin and I felt normal again within five minutes. She cried and cried as she then knew now I was addicted. Even though she told me not to take it, she still felt responsible and extremely guilty. From then on I was forced to take heroin just to feel normal, over the next few months my habit got uncontrollable to the extent that I needed to take it many times a day just to feel normal, imminent financial difficulties were soon on the horizon. Things got even worse when we both started taking crack as this soon got out of hand too. Every time I took crack it gave me a huge sense of well being, unfortunately only for a very short time. We could easily spend £120 on heroin and £200 on crack in one day. While on crack the feeling is so wonderful nothing worries you, it's a holiday from all your problems. I had no major withdrawal from crack as we used to have extra heroin to take this away. With crack the feeling is so amazingly good, you just must have some more, it is extremely psychologically addictive. At this time crack seemed like the only thing to look forward to. Before long, the banks and credit cards companies wouldn't pay out any more, so everything in my flat got porned. My car got written off and of-course all the insurance money went to buy drugs. Soon we were forced to cut right down on the crack, which was extremely depressing. All we thought about was how were going to get heroin to get us through the next day. Some days we had to suffer and go short, often we fought violently with each other over the last few crumbs of gear. It felt to
                  tally impossible to handle the terrible traumatic pain of doing without. When there was simply no other way of getting money, desperation forced my girl friend to go out on the streets to feed both of our habits. She got herself involved in or sorts of trouble, including dealing with people in crack houses just to get gear. By now I had lost around a third of my weight and was generally getting ill, I had totally lost my self-respect, our personal hygiene was neglected, neither of us ever bothered washing or cleaning and my flat was wrecked. I tried going to see my doctor for help, but only got referred to wait on a long waiting list when I needed urgent help immediately. One afternoon we were both desperately ill, left in the flat with no money or gear. I went out to try and sell the last of our few possessions, but couldn't even get enough money to get us through the night. Before heroin I was one of the most honest decent people you could ever meet who wouldn?t dream of stealing, but that day I was so desperate I actually considered robbing someone on the street to enable us to get some money for gear. I really did try and shockingly failed. At that time I was willing to do absolutely anything to get heroin. On returning to my flat, my girlfriend decided to hitchhike to the red light district to desperately attempt to come back with some gear. She got into trouble and was held by a pimp who owned a crack house and couldn't leave without paying off alleged debts. I was left in the flat alone. I decided enough was enough and I had to stop. I knew it took at least 4 days for the physical effects to wear off; I could then go through weeks of trauma, depression and psychological addiction. The pain, depression and trauma was so immense even on the first day without heroin, every minute seemed like an hour. I curled up in bed, but couldn't sleep, nothing except heroin could possibly take this immense pain away. I found a tiny bit of heroin
                  left. It took everything I had not to take it. I knew taking the heroin would only start the clock ticking again and all the pain I had been though would have to be faced again unless I could get some more quickly. I spoke to a very good friend of mine on the phone and a good drugs councillor. With their help I continuingly forced myself through every minute. I made it to the second day. I didn't think it was humanly possible, but I felt even worse and extremely weak like I was dying. Luckily something made me phone my parents that day, they picked me up from home. Later that day I felt sick and collapsed. I felt so weak, even breathing seemed a terrible strain. I really couldn't get up and I was totally helpless. My parents called the doctor out, the 45 minutes waiting for him to arrive seemed like an eternity, I was left begging for the doctor to give me something to knock me out to get me out of this terrible pain, but he couldn't. My heart rate was an extremely low 50 beats per minute, so the doctor called an ambulance. The ambulance seemed to take forever to arrive before I was carried off to hospital. I was then left on a trolley waiting for a doctor to assess me, I was crying out asking for something to knock me out. After various tests over an agonising period of about 2 hours, the doctors discovered a deficiency of phosphates in my blood. Without phosphates your muscles stop working, that was why my I couldn't move and my heart was beating so slowly, apparently without treatment I could have died or at least suffered severe long term muscular complications. At last I was given various medication and injections and after another hour they found me a proper bed. I couldn't even take water down, so for 2 days I was kept on a drip. All I had to take the other side effects of the heroin away was strong antidepressants, sleeping tablets and paracetamol, this treatment didn't even seem to take the edge off. I suffered physical heroin withd
                  rawal for a further 2 days. I was kept in hospital for a week while I slowly started to regain my strength. My body was in shock even after leaving hospital I couldn't walk for much longer than a couple of minutes without being shattered. It's now weeks later, despite trying to build my body back up by eating loads, I'm still not back to full strength. I'm on antidepressants to attempt to control my anxiety attacks, but I am recovering. I have learnt my lesson, it's such a relief not to be forced to score heroin just to survive. CLOSING COMMENTS **************** Six months ago I was a successful computer professional. Heroin brought me down to what most people would consider as the lowest scum of the earth. Heroin addiction is an illness, if treatment was available immediately for people who need it, crime would be dramatically reduced. A lot of the time crime is a desperate last resort. My girlfriend is no longer living with me and is staying in a temporary flat the other side of Birmingham. I hope getting off heroin myself will show her that with lots of will power, it is possible. She is hoping to eventually go into a detoxification programme. I worry about her, I hope she manages to survive and doesn't get herself into too much trouble. She loves me, the only possession she hasn't sold to buy heroin is a necklace I brought her before I became an addict. I love her very much and miss her loads, but sadly I can only stay in distant contact with her until she comes off the heroin. Most people would consider even this to be too dangerous, especially as most ex heroin addicts go back. I'm not worried about statistics, as I won't let this happen to me. I'm now trying to rebuild my life. I'm £23,000 in debt with nothing to show for it while on half pay from work. I don't think it's possible to get out of this without defaults and CCJs. Work has been amazingly
                  supportive and understanding. I haven't lost my job and they have even lent me this PC I am using now. I'm hoping to be well enough to go back to work part time in a few weeks and full time the following month (It's up to the doctor). Finally I hope this story will stop anyone else from trying heroin. It's the most evil, nasty drug in existence. It's everywhere around us, especially amongst homeless people. It will DEFINATELY ruin your life. UPDATE 20/11/2001 ***************** My girlfriend (she could now be considered my ex girlfriend) has only been in occasional contact, she is still heavily on the crack and smack. Sadly she has been committing crime to feed her addiction and is looking at a good 5 years in prison when the police find her. I can't see any possible future for us, however I may still visit her when she is caught and sent to prison. I still care about her very much and it hurts to see her in this way. I'm feeling much better myself and have been fighting to get back to work. The good news is I have finally been given the approval of a doctor to return back to work. I should definitely be back very shortly.

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                    08.09.2001 03:28
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                    There I was. I opened the yellow packet and snorted it all. I got a slight tingling sensation in my nose. All at once everything went dizzy and I saw Tutankamoon and King Henry the 8th Dancing with Maradonna in the moon light. They danced and danced until they fell over a porcupine. Then they lay on the floor laughing. I don't know why I did it. But its sold to little kids every day. They take it all, digesting kilos of it. This wretched substance. It ruins lifes. My idea is to stear well clear of it. Luckily for me, I managed to overcome my addiction of sherbet...others are not so lucky

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                      26.07.2001 22:38
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                      Several times over the last couple of weeks I have found myself drawn to this category, longing to write about my experience but afraid to open myself up to all the pain that I’d stored away in the darkest corner of my mind. Today, I decided that the fact that I keep coming back here must mean that it’s something that I haven’t totally stored away after all. So I’m taking a deep breath and am going to write. I was born in Kilsyth, a small town about 12 miles outside of Glasgow. I was brought up in a home full of hypocrisy. My father was a very violent drunk; regularly beating up my mother and us kids. I was the youngest of 6. My mother did her best to protect us, but I still got beat stupid over the smallest of things. I once ended up in casualty for getting my ears pierced. None of this was ever talked about. Outside of our home, everyone thought my dad was a really top bloke. It was more than your life was worth to say otherwise. We all had very strict curfews. At the age of 13, mine was 9 o’clock in the summer months and before dark in the winter. You could expect to be sore for a few days if you were late home. On the 5th of March 1982, 3 days after my 13th birthday, I was out playing with my best friend of the time, Sarah. I was at her street. We were having so much fun that I lost all track of time. Sarah’s mum called out to me that it was half past nine, and of course, I panicked at the thought of being late home. I said my goodbyes, and rushed off. A large park lay between Sarah’s house and mine. Normally, I went home via the road around the park, but on that night, I decided to cut through the park and hopefully save some time. In the middle of the park, I met a guy that I knew. I say I knew, but I only knew him to say hello to. I knew his face. He was 17, and had always seemed like a nice enough guy. He asked me if I knew what time it was, and as I looked at m
                      y watch, he grabbed me by my hair and pulled me over to the edge of the park. A long fence ran between the park and the local primary school, Saint Patrick’s. I’m not capable of going into details as to what happened next. Basically, I was raped and very badly beaten. I was only 13, and in those days, 13 was really only a little girl. I can still hear him laughing as he walked away afterwards. I lay there for almost half an hour, stunned, crying and in a lot of pain. It was now 10:45, and despite what had just happened to me, I realised that my dad was going to kill me. I pulled myself together as much as was possible and headed home. My mind was reeling. I couldn’t quite grasp what had just happened to me. I arrived home, bruised and bloody. I stood trembling at the door to the lounge, terrified to go in. My mum came out, took one look at me and reacted. She must have known straight away what had happened. My skirt was covered in blood, my clothes were torn and my face was bruised. It wouldn’t have taken a genius to work it out. She put her arms around me, sobbing herself, asking if I was all right. I can remember thinking that I’d be all right now, Mum was going to take care of me. My dad came into the hall to see what all the fuss was about. He looked at me and flipped. He accused me of being out fighting. Mum tried to tell him what was going on, but he hit her hard across the face. He then got stuck into me, hitting and hitting and hitting. He was like a madman. Mum tried to stop him, but she couldn’t. She kept saying ‘she’s been raped, she’s been raped’ but he wouldn’t listen. She wanted to phone a doctor and the police, but that made dad worse. He roared that there was no way that I was going to be allowed to bring shame onto my family. Didn’t we have any idea of what people would say? I was sent for a bath and bed, and kept in my room
                      for a month. That month felt like a lifetime. I honestly believed that I was going insane. No one was allowed to mention what had happened, and I was never asked if I knew who had done it. Unable to tolerate the pain in my head anymore, I stole drink from my dad’s drink’s cupboard. It tasted disgusting, but after one or two, at least I didn’t have to deal with the chaos in my mind anymore. It made me feel so much better. From there on, it was a downward spiral. Kilsyth always had a lot of drugs in it. There was a girl in my school who dabbled regularly. I smoked a few joints with her, tried acid and speed and more pills than I care to remember. I would have tried anything that would have stopped me from feeling like I did. Almost a year after the rape, I was offered heroin. Alarm bells rang in my head, but only for a minute. I was being given it free. I couldn’t believe my luck. The first few times I tried it, I smoked it off of tinfoil, through a foil pipe. Words seem insufficient to describe the feeling. It was like I was floating on clouds, over-whelmed with feelings of euphoria. My God, but it felt good. It seemed like a logical progression to move onto a needle. Of course, after the first couple of times, it was no longer being offered to me free. I started off having to find around £30 a day. A heck of a lot of money to a young girl all those years ago. I felt no guilt about stealing to get the money. At first emptying my mum’s purse, cashing cheques belonging to her and pinching her cash card. I moved on to stealing her jewellery to sell it. If it wasn’t bolted down, I’d have been away with it. I had to have the stuff. I’d become a heroin addict. This fact never registered with me at the time. All that mattered was the moment. Heroin had stopped making me feel high. Now I felt really sick without it. I needed the first shot of the day just to function norma
                      lly. My days of £30 were well behind me. How did I support it? I became a professional shoplifter. My mum had tried to put up with me for as long as she could. I was her baby and she was wracked with guilt about the rape. But eventually she just couldn’t take anymore. I was put out of the house. Aged 15. I slept on friends’ floors. I say friends, but mean fellow addicts. I never cared about my appearance or how I smelt. So long as I had my heroin, nothing else mattered. We used to go into Falkirk, Cumbernauld or Glasgow to do our stealing. We all had contacts in pubs etc to sell our stuff onto at a fraction of the cost. I’d be given lists of the stuff I had to steal. It never occurred to me that what I was doing was wrong. I seemed beyond help. I have no idea of how many times I was caught shoplifting. I always managed to get away with an overnight in police cells as a worse case scenario. Then, on September 22nd, 1986, my decisions were taken out of my hands. I was stopped and searched outside a pub in Cumbernauld. I had no stolen goods on me. I did have 7 grams of heroin, though. At the age of 17, I found myself kept in custody over night, then into the sheriff court in Airdrie the following morning. Feeling strung out and aching from top to toe, I didn’t take in very much of what was happening. I was remanded in custody to Cornton Vale Woman’s prison near Stirling for a week. That week seemed like the worst thing that could happen to me. I was given no medication at all to help me. I shook, threw up and screamed from the pain coming deep from inside of my bones. It still hadn’t hit me that I was in prison. I was so far-gone that nothing registered. At the end of that first week, still very shaky, I was taken back to Airdrie and fully committed for hearing. That meant just over 3 months in remand. It wasn’t until about a month later that what was going on real
                      ly hit home. I was straight for the first time in over 3 years. I sent a letter to my mum, telling her where I was. Of course, she already knew. It had been splashed all over the local papers. I remember laughing ironically to myself about how my dad would be reacting to my bringing shame on the family now. It took some time, but I won my mum back. She got a bus to Stirling every Sunday to visit me. Even though my dad beat her stupid for doing it. At the end of the remand, I plead guilty at my trail. There seemed to be no point in doing anything else. I was sentence to 3 years. My time in remand was taken off, and I got one third off for good behaviour. I entered back into the real world just after my 19th birthday. I spent my time in prison as wisely as I could. I sat all of the ‘o’ levels that I should have sat at school, and got 7. I wrote to everyone that I’d ever stolen from, friends, family members and even shops. Most never replied, but I got a letter from most of my family members and Marks and Spencer’s wrote to me. They commended me on my honesty, despite having stolen thousands of pounds worth of goods from them. I attended meetings of NA (narcotics anonymous) every week, and vowed never to touch any form of drugs again. Today, my life couldn’t be any more different. When I’d been out of prison for 2 years, I met Michael, the man who was to become my husband. I was honest with him from the very start. He understood completely. I told him all about the drugs, but not the rape. It’s very easy to look down your nose at addicts. No one likes to deal with subjects like this, but I often find myself wondering how many of them have a story like mine. The last thing I ever wanted to do was to use drugs. As for stealing, never. But when you get involved in that scene, it spirals out of control so very quickly. You are no longer capable of making rational decisions. Today, I have a fabulous relationship with my family. All of them except my dad. He hasn’t changed, he still beats up my mum, but there are no kids at home for him to pick on now. When we got married and had our first baby, we moved back to my home town so I could be close to my mum. In July 1991, we had to leave. We moved to Michael’s home town in Northern Ireland. Why? After years of never talking about the rape, and by then, rarely thinking of it, the man who had raped me turned up on my doorstep. He was after a car my husband was selling. He had no idea who I was. I freaked to put it mildly. That night, the whole sorry story came tumbling out to my husband. He went looking for this guy with a knife. I thank God that he never found him. My husband took it up with the police the next morning when they wanted to charge him with his actions of the night before. They were very understanding, but explained that they could do nothing about it. I couldn’t live in Kilsyth after that. Within 2 weeks, we were in Ireland. I resented the fact that I had again been separated from my mother, but she visits me often, and I go to see her. I feel safe doing that now. The guy who raped me was hounded out of the town. Some kind of justice anyway. I did everything possible to make up for my lost teenage years. I went to night school and got 5 ‘A’ levels and I am now studying for a degree in IT through the Open University. I have 4 beautiful children. They don’t know anything about my past, and I hope to keep it that way. They don’t need to know. However, if ever one of them were to get mixed up with drugs, I hope to have the strength to tell them my story. I would do anything to protect them from the horrors that I went through. Hopefully, by writing this, I am putting the final nail into the coffin of that particular chapter of my life. I hope that by sharing this with you, I will help som
                      eone from using drugs themselves, or at least open up someone’s mind to the reality of drug addiction.

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                        23.06.2001 07:36
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                        Which really are the harmful drugs? Why do people get hooked on them? Is there a lasting solution to the problem? "Everyone takes drugs." That sweeping statement may be used to induce the naive to experiment with illicit drugs. But depending on how we define "drugs," those words contain an element of truth. The term "drug" is defined as: "Any chemical substance, whether of natural or syntheric origin, which can be used to alter perception, mood or other psychological states." Before I go any further I just wanted to say that I was a Cocaine addict for three years. Now I educate people on addictions because I know exactly what these people are going through! According to that definition, alcohol is a drug. The danger lies in its immoderate use, which is evidently increasing. A survey of colleges and universities in a Western country found that "binge drinking is the most serious drug problem on college campuses." The survey revealed that 44 percent of students were binge drinkers. Like alcohol, tobacco is legally available, although it contains a powerful poison, nicotin. According to the World Health Organization, smoking kills about four million people a year. Yet, tobacco barons are wealthy, honored members of society. Cigarette smoking is also highly addictive, perhaps more so than the use of many of the illegal drugs. In recent years numerous countries have curbed tobacco advertising and imposed other restrictions. Nevertheless, many people still see smoking as an acceptable social activity. Smoking continues to be glamorized by the film industry. WHAT ABOUT SAFE DRUGS? Medicinal drugs gave certainly benefited many, but they can be abused. Doctors may at times prescribe drugs to easily, or they are pressured by patients to prescribe drugs that are not necessary. I remember I use to do that after I quit using Cocaine. I would ask for anxiety medicatio
                        ns. Then I became addicted to those, and had an even harder time quiting them. I was then told once you are an addict, you are going to be an addict for the rest of your life. So I had to even watch out when I was taking Tylenol and such. Even nonprescription drugs, such as aspirin and paracetamol (Tylenol, Panadol), if abused can lead to serious health problems. Over 2,ooo people worldwide die each year as a result of misusing paracetamol. According to our earleir definition, the caffeine in tea and coffee is also a drug, although we hardly regard it as such when drinking our favorite breakfas brew. And it would be absurd to view socially acceptable drinks like tea or coffe in the sae light as hard drugs like heroin. That would be like comparing a domestic Kitten to a fierce Lion. Nevertheless, according to some health experts, if you gabitually drink more five cups of coffee or nine cups of tea a day, it could do you harm. Furthermore, if you were to cut a very high intake drastically, you could undergo withdrawal symptoms similar to those of one tea drinker who experienced vomiting, severe headaches, and sensitivity to light. WHAT ABOUT THE ILLICIT USE OF DRUGS? A more controversial issue is the use of drugs in sports. We have yet to deal with the bewildering array of illicit drugs used for "recreational purposes. Thes include marijuanna, ecstasy (methylenedioxy-methamphetamine, or MDMA), LSD (lysergic acid diethylamide), uppers (stimulants like cocaine and amphetamines), downers (depressants like tranquilizers), and heroin. Not to be forgoten are the various inhalants, such as glue and gasoline, that are popular among the young. Of course, these inhalants are not banned substances and are readily available. The common notion of an emaciated drug addict shooting up in a dingy room can be deceptive. Many on drugs are still able to function relatively normally in every day life, although their addiction must affect the quality
                        of their life to a greater or lesser degree. Nevertheless, we cannot minimize the dark side of the drug scene. The fact is that today the use of drusgs, including illicit drugs, has become acceptable to many, biewed as a part of everyday life. Considering the widely publicized damage caused by illicit drugs as well as tobacco and alcohol, the obvious question is, Why so people abuse them? As we ponder this question, it is a good time to reflect on our own views about drugs. WHY DO SOME GET HOOKED? Numerous factors contribute to increasing drug abuse. Among these are disillusionment, depression, and a lack of purpose in life. Additional reasons are economic problems, unemployment, and poor parental examples. Some who have difficulty with human relationships use drugs to help them cope in social situations. They believe that drugs boost their confidence, making them feel witty and likable. Others simply find it easier to use drugs than to accept responsibility for taking control of their lives. Boredom is another reason youths turn to drugs. "Boys and girls come home after school to empty houses. No surprise, they are lonely and don't want to be alone. Friends join them but even together they are often bored. Once hooked, many continue to use drugs for a simple reason: They enjoy it. WHAT IS THE ROOT CAUSE? There are many reasons why people abuse drugs. But these are all symptoms of a deeper problem, a root cause. The contemporary expansion of drug use is a warning signal of weaknesses and faults in our society, besides loneliness and despair. Why otherwise should a significant number of talented and privileged people prefer drugs to the reality of the present day? This is a good question, which makes us realize that our materialistic, achievement obsessed society often fails to meet our emotional and spiritual needs. Even most religions gave not been avle to fill those needs because they gave overlooked
                        the root cause of mans's problems. We must unearth and face up to that root cause before we can find the only permanent solution to the drug problem.

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                          08.06.2001 23:02
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                          I read a very interesting review on here earlier today from Spacelamb regarding drugs and how they are perceived by society. It was interesting to read all of the 60 comments that had been written form many members and some of the things that have been written compelled me to tell my story! I have been affected by drugs in a big way in my life and have seen many different scenarios relating to them and have had to deal with some pretty tough times, but you get through it everyone does somehow. The first time drugs ever came into my life was with my big sister who sadly passed away a few years ago because of drugs. My sister Anne was what we now call a junky although she never ever stole form any one or begged on the streets to get her next fix she was classed as low life and someone once really upset me by saying she was just scum! How do you deal with that? Well it is not easy and it was difficult for me at times to admit that she was my sister as much as I loved her. Many of you whom have read My Experience with bereavement will no the circumstances that lead to my sisters death and can probably see why it was difficult for Anne to stop. Anne was not what we would call a recreational drug user, there is no desire or enjoyment experienced through taking heroine it is merely a form of escapism from everything in your life that hurts, Anne was hurting about a lot of things and when it looked like things were coming good, it actually got worse. Her addiction grew and eventually heroine took her life all for the need of escapism. Okay don?t get me wrong this I think is a sad life to lead and does lead to a lot of crime on our streets but this is merely a mirror reflection of all the violence we see caused by alcohol. But it is still legal PLEASE NOTE I am not condoning the legalisation of heroine one bit it is an evil drug and should be cleared from our streets. Anne is gone there is nothing I or my family
                          can do about that, drugs took her life and a lesson was to be learnt from it, but has it taught us a lesson? Well in short no! My big brother Frank was once my role model and I always looked up to him, he is older than be by a year except for one day so Frank, me and my twin are all very close until recent years. Frank once was in a steady relationship with a great women and had two lovely kids until one day his lovely women just up and left, now a better husband / father you could not have wished for, so why the up and leave? No one really knows that was 9 years ago when Billy, Frank?s wee boy was born and we have never seen her since. She left Billy and my mum has brought him up ever since, as Frank was never able to cope with the break up of their long-term relationship. Around about this time I was coming out to my parents and tried to keep it under wraps as much as possible as it was a difficult time as it was for everyone. Frank was not coping well at all and we soon came to blows about different things one being my sexuality and the other being the fact that I felt it was time for Frank to face up to his responsibilities a year on and Tamla would not be coming back she had started a new life etc! We fell out in a big way about this and never spoke a word for years. Slowly Frank took this quite badly along with everything else that was going on in his life but I was not interested but could see the steady decline, which did concern me. Frank soon lost his job, friends and got into the wrong crowd and soon was drunk at every opportunity. Slowly he slid down hill deeper and deeper into depression he was given valium form the doctor to help but this mixed with alcohol made Frank a nasty person and soon no one wanted to know him and even my mother began to find it difficult to deal with. It seemed Frank had no one to turn to although my mother has stuck by him through thick even tho
                          ugh it puts great strain on her and my dad but they deal with it best they can. He has steadily got worse never smoked cannabis went straight onto hard drugs from alcohol! So is cannabis really to blame? Frank is a manic depressant and often thinks he should be dead and from the carry on that he has, he should be! Frank has no spleen and even alcohol should not be drunk as he is forever on anti-biotic drugs to help keep his body infection free, this does not stop him in the least! Frank is steadily on the decline in the exact same way as my sister and it is not for recreational purposes, he is merely a junky who is looking for an excuse to escape from what he believes is a bad life that he leads, the sad thing is they know they are not doing themselves any good and that they hurt their families by being like this, this only makes them want to escape even more. Should we condemn them as scum for this? They are not bad people they are people who have problems just like an anorexic or an alcoholic except society does not want to help in any way, families are often left just to cope and suffer. Now with these two stories told you would think I would never be interested in drugs would you? Well to a certain extent I was very against drugs until I got into a situation where I was asked and curiosity, fear and the whole thing about you should not do drugs took over. I take to take an ecstasy tablet and was soon in love with the world. I have never experienced such a wonderful feeling and always until this day wondered why I have been able to pull away from it unlike Frank and Anne. Now please beware I am in no way glorifying ecstasy in this opinion and in no way want to change people?s minds towards the drug. Everyone is an individual and should be allowed to say their thoughts. These are mine and I will accept all criticisms that may follow and answer any questions that you may have. Ecstasy retails on the st
                          reets these days at around about £5 ? 6 and is widely available in many clubs and pubs through dealers. This is of course unknown to the club owners and is something that is frowned upon if someone is caught selling as it is not only illegal but can get the club owner to lose their licence. I would have always bought mines before entering the club and have also taken it before I arrived to ensure I was not breaking the law by having them on my possession and I would not be at risk of being caught buying them. All of the above a wrong I know but when you take ecstasy you are taking more than a risk by taking it; you are taking many others to! Your life is at stake in more ways than one so to speak. So what do ecstasy tablets contain that makes it such a wonder drug? What makes it so exclusive that it should not be classed in the same category as heroine or cocaine? Well there is nothing to say that it should not be classed the same, as these but there are many differences. It is non addictive for a start you do not rely on it whenever you go out it is easy to stop taking when you don?t want to! Ecstasy is a tablet that is produced mainly in Western Europe and is smuggled throughout the world from America to Australia as demand for the popular middle class drug takes hold of the youth of today who are looking for better ways to have a good time. The main ingredients of these tablets are normally used from veterinary and agricultural chemicals in illegal factories through out the world. Chemically called methylenedioximethamphetamine, or MDMA, the drug is a mild hallucinogenic that creates of sense of euphoria. I will be honest and say that I am aware of the ill fated side affects that the drug can have on people and can say that I have suffered from a few in the past. Its ill effects can include the following teeth grinding, increased heart rate and blood pressure as well as some psychological di
                          fficulties such as anxiety, confusion, paranoia and insomnia. In extreme cases, Ecstasy can cause heart failure and brain and liver damage. It has also been proven though that the latter in all of these cases is only through extreme cases and is often caused due to misuse of the actual drug, which police and welfare communities throughout the world is caused by misinterpretations by the news and press. Society does need to be more educated towards the effects of drugs is it good or bad, what is the point of telling people not to use drugs and not explaining why except for the fact that they can kill! Why alcohol is the same and we are educated on the bad and of the good of this to great extremes. Alcohol does not only cause death through drinking it it can also lead to deaths of others through violence and drink driving etc? There has never been a reported case of murder, violence, rape or hit and run whilst people have been on ecstasy. This is mainly due to the fact that people become more aware of their senses and are prone to avoid dangerous situations. When I have been on ecstasy I have always felt in control and have on many occasions made many good friends through the fact that I am able to have a sensible conversation and enjoy myself. I am not an aggressive person by nature so became even more complacent when I used this drug. When I am drunk I have seen myself in situations where I am not in control any more and have often got home not remembering how I got there and I am sure most of you will be the same, you never feel like that with ecstasy when you use it in the right way. Misuse is the most common cause of death and this is the reason why the laws in countries like the Netherlands are relaxed because they see that it is not all the bad a drug to take. However, on that note I would also like to add that I have now stopped using this drug regularly and only take it once in a blue moon. I never activ
                          ely encourage people to try this. I believe it is an individual decision that needs to be made by the person taking it. There are many other things you can do like get paralytic drunk and forget who and where you are and anything can happen or you can be happy and totally in control of yourself when used properly. I would never encourage this upon kids and hope that all the mothers I have met through these sites will take a strong hand towards this in their children?s later lives, I am sure if you have experienced it you will be able to educate your children in the best way possible! Please do not think of many any different for my guilty pleasures these are all our experiences in life and drugs have affected mines in a huge way personally and I have a very open mind about the whole thing and feel I can make many valid comments. I would not class myself as a junky or a drug addict merely a recreational drug user. I have morals and I have beliefs but they lie elsewhere. Thank you for reading and please note any comments you wish! © JamesD22 2001 :o)

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                            07.06.2001 05:30
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                            Argh… just let me get this bit out of the way, ok? God knows how this one is going to be received. + Cannabis, I suppose, is the drug it’s ok to like - the others being either too dangerous, or too legal for us to be flippant about. Heroin scares us, tobacco bores us… cannabis on the other hand, fills the remaining void perfectly – enjoyable effects, non-addictive and, just to spice things up a bit, illegal. Everyone feels qualified to argue for the legalization of cannabis, ironically (but actually), no one more so then those that have little to no experience with the drug at all. That’s because they look at facts, and they think it’s enough. They consider the known health-risks, they draw the comparison with tobacco, they weigh it all up and decide. And, of course, from the boring, heart-less, logical, sigh-inducing moral point of view they are completely right. If we consider facts, and figures, and laws, and rights, and everything else we like to think matters, it’s true – cannabis should be legalised. I agree. You got me. Legalization, however, is not what this opinion is about. I’m simply clearing things from the start, because everyone who is not frequent cannabis-user, always consider cannabis in relation to its legalization, and that’s not what I intend to write about. It’s a related-topic that, through so many people basing opinion on information over experience, has grown to the point that it over-shadows everything else cannabis is about. Sorry, just wanted to get that in before I start + If my story was an exciting, or shocking one, it would be about cocaine or heroin. It’s not, it’s about cannabis. Good old, safe, friendly weed – rock 'n' roll, college, Jay and Silent Bob (the Kevin Smith character, not Dooyoo member), right? How many of us think like this, without really thinking at all. How many of us have smoked maybe t
                            en joints in our life, watched the right movies, listen to the bands and decided from this that cannabis is ok. Cool, even. Acceptable, for sure. Before you think I’m patronizing you, let me say – I did. Yep. If I remember rightly, the whole reason I got into smoking dope in the first place was because I was young, and already involved in everything else associated with the scene. But how many of us have smoked every day of our lives, often through depression, and grew slowly sadder because of it? How many have watched friends, gradually deteriorate from lively, energetic, articulate people into slow and clumsy people, not nearly as alert or able as they once were. And how many of us have watched ourselves, do the same. People tend to forget, that when cannabis is used in excess it is just as damaging as any other drugs, just in different, perhaps more subtle ways. It’s in my title, and it’s about to follow – one word, the key to avoiding the dangers, the word I wish someone had whispered in my ear – moderation. MMMOODDDEERRAATTIIOONN. Smoking weed is a wonderful, calming, experience, that can improve upon nearly all the things we take for granted – talking, eating, listening to music…. But, there are dangers, and only through moderation can these be avoided. Since smoking cannabis at a rate of just about every day, sometimes several times a day, I’ve noticed definite changes within myself. I’m less articulate, I stumble over words and phrases I never did before. My writing has gone down hill – sometimes I get stuck on the simplest of sentences, I make glaring grammatical and spelling errors. I used to be charming, now I’m frustrating. I used to write with imagination, now I do not. Imagine what it is like, to suddenly find yourself getting worse at one of the few things you’ve ever prided yourself upon. These changes were virtually impossible for other people to
                            have noticed, but I notice them and they scare me. People say cannabis isn’t physically addictive, and they’re right, it isn’t. However, it’s the most physiologically addictive substance I’ve ever encountered. Whenever I experience stress, even mild, I start thinking about having a pipe. If I’m left in my own company, I use it to calm my thoughts and pass the time. I used to be a jumpy, nervous, anxious person, while now (in real life at least), I’m continuously indifferent towards people and things. You may think it sounds advantageous, but looking out from the inside, and then back at yourself, it causes only unhappiness. And I’m not even a bad case. I have friends that respond slower to conversation, so much so that it’s obvious even to new people they meet. Of course, it takes a certain type of person, in a certain state of affairs, but building up a dependency on cannabis is a fast and easy process. At first, the drug makes your problem disappear, then, in time, it creates new ones to the point you feel almost nostalgic for the first. Thankfully, I’m far from there yet, but it gets to point when people simply can not function without being stoned. They can’t cope socially, or mentally without it. I’m sorry, really sorry, that this section of the opinion sounds like a government warning, and has been boring. Though I hope it serves a purpose, and that purpose is this: if you’re reading, and you smoke dope now and then – keep it that way. Allow it to remain the thing it seemed to be when you began. Smoke on occasion. In moderation. Allow yourself to tread the slippy slope to habitual use, and I promise you your heart will sink every time you indulge. It will cease to be a pleasure, and become only a chore. I’ve seen it happen to many people, many times, and have felt the early symptoms myself. Moderation. Seriously. Ok, now that nasty bit
                            is out of the way, I can say some positive things. The newly-clichéd legalization debate is not the only reason why people, all people, like to talk about weed. It’s because it can lead to marvellous experiences. It may surprise you in light of all I have said so far, but I remember my early experimental days with great fondness. Don’t miss-judge my first section – I’m not warning you against the use of cannabis, I’m warning against the habitual use of cannabis, and against wrongly presuming it’s harmless in all cases. Different. Many of the more pedantic Dooyoo members will undoubtedly shoot me down for this, citing hypocrisy, because first I said ‘avoid it’ then I go on to explain how enjoyable it is. If you chose to ignore this reasoning, or repute it, then fine, but I’ll say it only once – my only recommendation is of moderate use, and my opening is a warning only against using cannabis too much. I’ll leave it up to you, intelligent people to decide where exactly that line lays for you. Smoking a joint with friends is a fine experience. It’s no different to sharing a bottle of wine. In the early days, some of my best times were had simply with close friends, passing round a ‘jay’ and laughing till our heads came off. After a while, the hunger (or ‘munchies’) would kick in, and then began a desperate, frantic attempt to find and prepare food – often with hilarious consequences. If cannabis is combined with good company, it can become just as valid an asset as a good film, or anything else collectively enjoyed. Listen to music with a steady rhythm, and you’ll find yourself enjoying what you hear on levels you wouldn’t have even considered when sober. You’ll be flying, bouncing on the strings of every bass guitar, soaring, with every beat of the drum, exploding into a million pieces and falling like rain-drops at the clash
                            of every symbol. There is no doubt, that cannabis can be a source of harmless fun. Sometimes you’ll get paranoid, or feel ill if you over-indulge in one go, but establish your own best-suited conditions and there is no reason, at all, why smoking cannabis shouldn’t be a worthwhile experience. In conclusion to this strange, miss-jointed piece (no pun intended), my experiences in cannabis have lead me to believe the following – smoking dope can, if moderated wisely, be an excellent social aid, just as much so as alcohol. As far as the legalization debate goes, I’m indifferent, though I think in practise it wouldn’t be as great as many people like to believe – the hush-hush, under-the-table method of purchase is one of the only things that ensure cases like those I described earlier are avoided by most people. And so that leads me to perhaps the main drive of this opinion, and my reason for writing. Cannabis is only harmless on paper, and in the minds of people who think they know about it but don’t. There is a line, it’s thin, and to some of us it’s hard to see. Continually using cannabis can destroy a person, it can slow them down and hack-away at their intelligence and awareness. I’m a mild (though sadly growing) case, but I’ve seen worse, and believe me it’s not a ‘cool’ or exciting thing. It’s useless, truly, utterly useless. For me, smoking dope began as an occasional thing, and for many people it remains that way. This stage, I recommend to all. Allow it to develop into a habit, however, and you’ll scare yourself badly. It’s like slowly being eaten alive, so slowly you’re forced to suffer alone because no one else notices. Don’t go there, keep it for now and then. Moderation, ok? PS - I did dabble with the idea of including some tongue-in-cheek, fun bits in this op - a ‘cannabis lingo
                            217; section, best music to trip to, how to realise you’ve been ripped off, etc. I decided not to, firstly because I’m not sure it would trivialise my serious bit (and/or you wouldn’t find it funny), and secondly because I don’t know how many of you would be wanky and consider if ‘irresponsible’ to young users (who probably smoke already). If you have any feelings on this… you would like to read it… you think I was wise to keep it out… leave a comment and I’ll act accordingly. Cheers. And I’m really sorry this has been bland, really. S**t. PSS – I just looked and realised how lame this seems beside Heroin addiction ops, etc. Sorry again. Xxx. END OF OP (for Jill)

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                              02.06.2001 00:04
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                              I do not rob old ladies to get my next fix. I have never been found under a railway bridge with my eyeballs lost somewhere in my cranium. I am a recreational abuser of substances, and I can feel a rant brewing. First of all, as this category is quite specifically about my *experience* of substance abuse, I will tell you a couple of tales. The most frightening experience of my life was looking after a friend who had taken too much speed – base in fact, which is a particularly strong form of the drug. We went out to a club on a Friday night and he ‘bombed’ some powder (ingested it, wrapped in a rizla) and about an hour later he couldn’t walk. We had to carry him back to another friend’s flat, and he spent the next 48 hours hallucinating, convulsing, screaming, spewing, crying, and generally acting like a madman. We fed him water (which he spat straight back at us, wide-eyed and angry), took him to the toilet, tried to stop him falling unconscious. Not a pretty thing to watch. One of the best nights of my life was at this same guy’s stag night four years later (yeah I know, I’m a girl, but all my friends are blokes so I get to infiltrate these things). We all double-dropped some pills (Es) as we went into a club, and continued necking them on the hour until 6am. The music was fantastic and I was with all my favourite people. We came out of the club and had a spliff on the bank of the Thames, and I was at peace with the world. I am not for a second advocating this kind of thing – if I told you about the comedown the following day I think you would be thoroughly put off anyway – but there are two sides to every debate. For every yin there is a yang and all that. I’ve chilled out a bit recently. After a while you get sick of people gurning at you, or acting like they’re your best mate when they’ve known you 30 seconds. You get sick of ruining your good shoes (clubs
                              will mysteriously do this). And you get sick of feeling like a pair of old pants on Monday mornings, which are harsh at the best of times. A glass of wine and joint will generally now satisfy my hedonistic cravings (rock ‘n’ roll or what?) – with the occasional burst of madness and ensuing regret. Here comes the rant. You cannot tar all substance abusers with the same brush. We are not all junkies (and there is a difference, I think, between drug ‘use’ and ‘abuse’ - apart from the ab- prefix). The term junk actually relates to heroin – and addicts, to my mind, are ill and should be treated as such. These people have a need for smack, not a desire. Have you ever heard of recreational heroin use? Nope, me neither. There is no such word as ‘drugs’ (although the OED may wish to enter into debate on the matter) because each is so vastly different. I think the Government would do well to note this, and get rid of that objectionable old spoon Keith Hellawell. Obviously cannabis should be decriminalised right away; I have already written an op on this subject and don’t wish to repeat myself. All I will say is this: unlike alcohol, that lethal but socially acceptable intoxicant, it won’t turn you into an obnoxious fool (blokes) or weepy tart (girls). It will enhance your sensory experience of the things around you and make you think about things in a different way. We only use 1% of our brains in day-to-day life; personally I would like to know what I can do with the other 99%, and cannabis starts to tap at this. (Medically this might be an outright lie, but you know what I mean). There are about eight ecstasy-related deaths each year in this country, although over a million people take Es every weekend. I think it’s also worth noting that there are several thousand alcohol-related deaths in the UK each year. The figures are not even comparable, but the media get
                              s hysterical over a fatality when it is related to an illegal drug. The reason for this is a lack of understanding. It’s very easy for those who have never experienced the drug first-hand to wax lyrical about its perils. We are subjected to front-page pictures of young girls with bleeding noses and tubes in their mouths. Of course it is horrific, and tragic, but then so are a lot of accidental deaths. We are not made to look at images of people who have recently been run over. I think the public would have plenty to say if The Sun plastered a photograph of a hit-and-run victim on its cover with the message “tell your children never to cross the road” – which I genuinely believe is an equivalent statement. Ecstasy deaths are caused by the user, which sounds like a dreadful and harsh thing to say, but hear me out. Ignorance killed Leah Betts, not ecstasy – she panicked when she became overwhelmed by the sensations of the drug, and had obviously read somewhere that it was advisable to drink water when you’re ‘pilling’. So she downed two pints of water, which flooded her brain, and she died. If only British schools would take a more rational approach to drugs education, this heartbreaking story need never have happened. Rather than hammering home the ‘just say no’ message, we need to accept that drugs are a massive part of youth culture today and give young people information instead of preaching. The remaining deaths I think are caused by adverse reactions, in much the same way as people can react badly to prescribed medication. The risk with an illegal pill is far greater of course, because there is no way of knowing how much MDMA it actually contains (if any), and what it has been cut with. There is a machine that will test the purity of ecstasy tablets – these are installed in several nightclubs in the Netherlands – but unfortunately our Government thinks that to insta
                              ll them here would be to condone the use of the drug, which is just crazy. Back to the point of adverse reactions: the recent lime-green death pills only killed one student. I doubt very much that they were the only two of that brand in circulation, and I’m sure the rest of the batch was equally as strong. In my yarn about the overdosing friend, three other people had necked the same amount as him and were kind of wired, but basically fine. There are very few genuinely ‘lethal’ Es out there – it is hardly in the manufacturers’ best interests. And it is not, as the tabloids would have us know, a ‘killer’ drug. I think the point I am really trying to make, and I apologise if I have made it rather long-windedly, is that what we are lacking in Britain is knowledge. The middle classes like nothing better than to shout their mouths off about ‘druggies’ (I mean no disrespect, I would consider myself middle class), but often have no facts to back up their tirades. One man’s meat is another man’s poison – or, in a slightly less sinister turn of phrase – at least *try* to understand something before you write it off. (I feel like I have missed out a lot of points I intended to make - feel free to put my op to rights in the commentary).

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                                30.05.2001 11:24
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                                Substance abuse can come in the form of prescribed drugs as well as illegal or street drugs. I know through my own experience of addiction from taking pain pills prescribed from my doctor lead to my addiction. It all started 8 years ago while I was working as a meat wrapper in a grocery store. I developed tendentious and arthritis in both my wrists from the rapid motion of using my wrist and hands that this type of job required. After wrapping meat for 8 hours a day my wrists would become swollen and became very painful. So painful that they would sometimes bring tears to my eyes. I eventually went to my doctor and he prescribed pain pills for me to take for the pain. At first I did take to pain pills as directed and the pain in my wrists did ease up. I also was enjoying the way the pain pills made me feel, the high I was getting from them. So, after a while of taking theses pain pills I started increasing the dosage of course, without consulting my doctor first. I soon ran out of pain pills long before I was supposed to. I went back to my doctor and he did give me one more refill but not before he cautioned and lectured me about taking the pain pills. I don't remember exactly what I told him why I ran out of the prescription so fast but I know the reason was some lie I had made up. This second prescription refill didn't last me no time at all, I believe 30 pills lasted me only 10 days. I did call my doctor, making up some story about accidentally dropping the prescription bottle down the toilet. I was told I could not have another refill. But I was hooked and I had to have more pin pills-some way, somehow. So, to get more pain pills I came up with this scheme that did work for a while. I went to every doctor in my small town to get a prescription for pain pills, then I would go to the different pharmacies to have them filled. Not wanting to risk using my insurance I did pay cash for the doctor visits a
                                nd for the prescriptions. Which did add up to quite of bit of money. It is true that the addict has to admit it to themselves that they are addicted before they can get help. I could not face the fact that I was addicted to these pain pills. I did not want to believe that I needed the pain pills just to survive but I did, I was in denial. My husband was the first one to notice the changes in me, he knew something was not right and he often asked me what was wrong, I lied to him and told him nothing was wrong. Other family members started noticing the changes and I knew that it was getting harder for me to hide my addiction. I had become a totally different person. After taking the pain pills for about 6 months I too started noticing myself changing. I was very moody, I had trouble concentrating, I was not interested in having sex with my husband and I was very withdrawn. I also noticed physical changes as well. I lost around 25 pounds, my hair was falling out and I had dark circles under my eyes. I soon realized that I was addicted to these pain pills and knew I needed to get off of them but part of me needed them very badly while the other part wanted off of them. It was a battle that I was fighting within myself. I hated the way that I was acting and I hated my appearance. I started looking many years older than I really was. It was when I nearly had an accident while driving high on pain pills that shocked me into reality, I knew then that I was addicted to these pills and I needed help. I prayed to God asking for his help, then I came clean and told my husband everything about my addiction from start to finish. He listened, held me and even cried with me, he promised to do everything he could to help me get off the pain pills. The battle had started and it was a tough battle. But with God and my husband on at my side I knew I could win this battle. I went through 8 days of hell. The withdraws were terrible.
                                I had the shakes, the sweats, headaches, bodyaches and chills. I was a nightmare to live with but my husband was right there for me he never gave up on me and neither did God. Today I am clean, I have been for almost 7 years now. I am happy and healthy and owe my life to God and my husband, together they saved my life. I am also very careful about what type of prescribed drugs I take, because I know that if I take just one pain pill I could be right back where I was, an addict and I never want to live like that again through that hell of addiction. So, please take prescribed drugs as directed. And remember any type of substance control prescribed drugs can lead a person to become an addict. It is not just the illegal or street drugs that can cause addiction.

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