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Joined 1 year ago
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Cake day: July 1st, 2023

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  • Not long after my mother recovered from chemotherapy, my grandmother passed away. I was tasked with disposing of my mother’s morphine, however I decided to take it for relief.

    I was addicted not to the feeling of being numb so much, but the initial euphoria. I would snort the morphine in powder form. I know I did some rudimentary conversion, however after kicking it I forgot every single step and cannot remember a lot of that time.
    Over a year had passed, yet my knowledge of it is very little. It feels as though I have lost parts of my life… Like I mean, literally lost.

    The euphoric kick got less and less prevalent, and I felt as though I needed more in order to gain that initial kick - however I wasn’t even aware of this effect happening, despite all manners of media being rife with this step of opiate addictions. The act of increasing dosages came so naturally I don’t even think I made a conscious decision to, yet my tolerance rose to points where I was taking multiple times the lethal dose (for someone with base tolerance levels).

    I saw what it was doing to me at one point, just by happenstance of looking into the mirror for a moment longer than usual.

    I went cold turkey, and it was… Well, hell doesn’t even describe how this felt. It took about a couple of weeks, with the first being the worst.
    I had locked myself up in my room, telling some folks to check up on me periodically, online friends mainly, and what to do if I don’t respond within a given time. I recall a moment where one of my friends was about to call an ambulance, because I was one minute late to answer (I was probably vomiting profusely).

    The very last time I did that was in the second or third week of November, 2012.

    I understand that going cold turkey could be very dangerous, especially with a built up tolerance, however at that point I would not have been able to wean myself off of the stuff. I was too far in, and without going extremely hard into it I probably would have died not too long after.

    If you have a friend going through opiate addiction, please be there for them. That’s all I can say.






  • I have much less wonder now, and it is ruining my day to day enjoyment at times. It is hard to dream big when you know more about the world, and how corrupt it all can be. They call it depression, but when reasons are provided for lack of opportunities it’s seen as downright shameful to be upset about it.

    I miss the times when I was more naive about the world, it made it all interesting.



  • I know I’ll get downvoted, but I want to say this is just the experience of me and my families over generations: moved from India to England. My grandfather and his relations fought under the British Raj, and he worked for the British government in a small job even after the partition, so after a while my grandparents came over to London. My mother did nursing training in India, but at a St. Mary’s boarding school so she was taught by mostly British standards and that made the transition to move to London much easier as well (I was born and raised here).

    Your post essentially highlights the elephant in the room, as to why a lot of people immigrate to countries like the US, Canada, or the UK: despite our problems, many people find these countries to be better in terms of, well, many things. You can find pockets of communities here to prevent you feeling too homesick as well, such as Southall which many (including myself) call “little India”.

    Maybe look at options for if you can aim towards a field of employment that would provide you with the skills required to get a VISA to a place with (in your personal view) a better quality of life. If you have the time and dedication, programming and various IT fields have often been successful with this however I can imagine there being a lot of competition. Perhaps someone else could recommend a better field.







  • I am coincidentally also 35, and had similar sentiments following my most “recent” divorce (4 years ago!)

    Your comment is bang on mate. The second to last paragraph really hits home but it’s something that I really needed to acknowledge and accept if I ever wanted to move on.

    Went to a gig recently, was in a mosh pit for the first time in over a decade, and a fucking LOVED every bit of it, bruising and all.
    You just gotta find your vibe, and it takes effort, but once you do others will see your vibe and want to jiggle with you (I’m not great at analogies hopefully this makes sense).





  • Medicine would be drugs. Unless you mean in the broad sense of the term.

    For me I require a reason behind my happiness, maybe it’s my autism I’m not sure, however without a foundation leading to smiles the smiles are lackluster. Just forcing myself to go outside, sit in a nice park, etc. helps place me into opportunities where I can notice things that make me happy bit by bit.
    These little things add up. Being at a small time gig, of a band I haven’t heard of, being around people who like the same things helps a lot.

    I’ve wanted to see my favourite musicians, and I managed to through perseverance (Corey Taylor is an amazing human being, his outlook definitely rubbed off on me). I wanted to go to Europe, and everyone I knew kept saying “one day”, so I decided that “one day” for me was going to be the next. Packed some things and went that weekend to Amsterdam, by myself, and met 3-4 people and we all hung out together for four days and we had such a connection we enjoyed ourselves so much.

    If you have an inkling of places or things that would make you happy, perhaps try forcing the first step into it. It’s easier said than done, though good luck man.