I’m not Dysfunctional, Part CVI

Ah gods, my head hurts. It hurts, and I mean HURTS, really, really fucking badly. Really REALLY fucking badly. It fucking HURTS.

Yes withdrawals. I know I know, please bear with me, but I’m trying, here. 2 years of hard narcotics addiction will ruin anyone. I know I know it’s just the same thing but it fucking HURTS god damn it, I mean, it really, really fucking HURTS. A lot. A very huge amount; my brain is screaming, just screaming, violently, at me. This is just SO UNPLEASANT. So… ah, gods, it HURTS.

Fuck.

Ow ow ow ow ow ow ow ow ow ow ow ow ow

I’ve been trying to wean off the fentanyl. It’s tough, and I don’t know why. I suspect my body is finding now an opportunity to purge itself of the toxins that have been building up inside of me for the past two years and is pushing as hard as it can, while it can, to clean out my system. That said, that is good and all but christ, my head HURTS. It HURTS, A LOT.

I haven’t taken morphine in a while. Same with hydromorphone, and tramadol. And I haven’t taken any hydrocodone in at least six months. So… good. Progress.

And the… Xanax, Ambien, and the other assorted narcotics-ish drugs. I mean, I’m like, really trying here.

But the fentanyl… yah, gods, OUCH. Still can’t remove myself from it, so I’m trying a piecemeal approach. And it’s just awful, so awful. Everything hurts, SO MUCH. And I just can’t remove myself from my fucking bed. I get so incredibly tired. I think I really did wreck my body from the years of drug abuse and addiction.

And this is of course aside from the powerfully sedative effect of the fentanyl itself. And Christ, did I take A LOT of it. Like, wayyyyy more than I should have, for wayyyy too long. And I was irresponsible, using multiple patches of extremely high dosages simultaneously. I… seriously fucked up.

And I think I was wrong on my calculations earlier. 900 mcg/hr would not be enough to kill me outright, concerning my incredible tolerance for narcotics. I would have needed probably twice that amount.

It’s a good thing I didn’t try suicide. I mean, for multiple reasons, lel. But seriously, if there’s anything worse than suicide, it’s an attempt that fails. I mean, that REALLY sucks, lol.

That being said, I am very lucky, I suppose, in that I didn’t die earlier in the year, when my tolerance wasn’t as high. I mean… very, very lucky.

So… oof, ow, more withdrawals. Tummy is in knots, head is splitting open, you know, the usual. I mean, it HURTS, BADLY.

I HATE addiction. I hate drugs. Ow.

Fuck.

You know, I was going to blog about Christmas, but fuck it, I was sick, so there was little to blog about, really.

Ah, fuck.

Ow, my head.

FUCK.

Ah, ow. Whatever.

Fuck.

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