addiction
The realities of addition; the truth about living under, above and beyond the influence of drugs and alcohol.
Battling the Voices
"It's never going to happen to me." I guess I was always one of those people who thought that. I never thought I would become a drug addict. But I did. I never thought I would be homeless. But I was. I never thought I would wake up one morning hearing voices that weren't real. But that happened too.
By Jaquelyn Cannon8 years ago in Psyche
Am I Addicted?
We are often unaware of our habits. Getting up three minutes before the alarm goes off, leaving tiny bits of food on our plate at every meal, saying "this is based off of that" instead of "this is based on that," taking in a heady eyeful when someone of the attracted sex walks past...these are habits. We would probably never say they are addictions.
By Aulos.Media8 years ago in Psyche
The Art of Drugs, and Depression
At the age of around four years old, I gained a massive interest in what one could do with a pencil and a piece of blank paper. I would doodle my mind off until I lost myself in my art. I began to improve after that, my parents were astonished at what I was doing at such a young age, they gave me confidence and told me to keep it up and that I have real talent. So as I got older, I would draw and draw all day until my hands could not physically move. Up until middle school started, I was drawing for at least two hours every day. Then, as I said, middle school came along, I had been with all of my friends for many years and middle school is when we all came together as one. All my friends meeting each other. But that's not the point, when seventh grade started I completely dropped off the art grid, I didn’t draw for the entire year, not once. I became too caught up in what my friends thought and hanging out with them every day. Once eighth grade hit I thought I was so cool! I mean, I really believed I was the king of my school, and that made me feel good about myself. Near the middle of eighth grade my friends and I started using drugs, A LOT! Every day we would smoke weed and get high and have tons of fun. That eventually got to my head, all day I would be anticipating how I was gonna get high with all of my friends later. I would do anything just to get a little bit of money to buy some weed, if my grandparents gave me money on a holiday I would spend all of it on my friends and weed, just so we could get high and have fun. All of these things took me away from the one thing I could do best. Now nearing the end of eighth grade, a friend of mine came up to me one day after school and asked me if I wanted to “trip on some acid” with him...now before this point I knew pretty much nothing about hallucinogenics, so I said sure why not, not knowing that I was about to have a life-changing experience. So we took the tablets of acid, we walked around a little forest area thinking, 'Why aren’t we feeling anything?' again, knowing nothing about the substance we just took. I blacked out, only for about two minutes, and woke up to a beautiful landscape above me. The nature looked so vibrant and beautiful and green. I got up and saw my friend staring at my phone, amazed at the tiny little screen, now at this point I thought this is absolutely amazing why can’t I do this all the time? My mom, a few months before this occurrence, had signed us up for jiu-jitsu for no particular reason, it was on Tuesdays and Thursdays and started at 4:00; she was very committed to it and never liked to be late. The day I took acid was a Thursday, of all days. I got out of school at 2:15, my friend and I walked to this forest area that was literally two minutes from my house. I looked at my phone in my friend's hand and saw the time “3:45.” I then panicked, obviously because I was in my entering stage of a strong hallucinogenic drug that I had never taken before, I was kind of already freaking out, as most people do. So I started running up to the street that led to my home, my friend followed in a very confused and obviously tripping acid manner. Once we got to the street, I told him I had to hurry up and go. My mom then called me, this is when my nerves kicked in and I was on the verge of an absolute heart attack. I answered trying my best to not sound like an idiot, she told me to hurry my ass up, so that’s what I did. I ran down the street and that’s when the hallucinations started to really get harsh, the street looked like it was a flowing river that just kept going, so I had to really push myself to get to my mom's car. I finally got there acting as I usually would, in my mind I thought, 'I’m totally in the clear.' Then the uncontrollable smiling started, my mom looked at me like I was guilty of something (which of course I was) she asked “Have you been smoking pot?”
By Bryce Richards8 years ago in Psyche
The Needle and the Spoon
7:27pm November 14th. Approximately four and a half hours before I turned 18. I was at my own party at my parents' house and looking for a way out. Everyone was telling me how proud they were of me and what a wise young man I had become. It put a sickening feeling in me but it was almost funny. I was a junky. My family knew a bit about my previous use of drugs but thought it was a phase in the past.
By eesh icantbelive i wrote this crap8 years ago in Psyche
That Bitch Is Crazy
That bitch is crazy. The need for Mental Health resources in Canada. In recent months or maybe even years, I have become somewhat of an advocate for ending stigma toward mental health. The spark started with taking Mental Health First Aid. A two-day course geared toward ending stigma and educating health professionals and general public on things such as psychosis, addiction, suicide prevention, and depression. Anyone who knows me personally knows the past few years I have struggled with divorce of an emotionally abusive person, struggled with my own personal addictions in the past, had a serious illness that affected both my cognitive functions and personal well being, and watched several family members struggle with their mental health and addictive personalities. Somehow, despite having serious odds stacked against me have come out on top to a point where I am finally at peace with it and with myself. This did not come without help. I have spent endless hours skimming internet articles, reading books about mental health, consulting councillors and medical professionals, and literally drove my inner circle crazy with my anxiety and need for emotional support. It took me years to finally accept advice from my doctor and try a medication and it wasn’t until I had literally researched the living shit out of what it was to be “crazy.”
By Heather Mac8 years ago in Psyche
The Right Drugs
When life goes wrong and you can’t seem to do anything right, where do you turn? When you lose a loved one, where do you turn? When you think you are worthless, where do you turn? When that fails, where do you turn? Lots of people come to me to vent about how life kicked them in the teeth. My family, my friends, even random strangers have found themselves telling me about anything and everything. I am proud to say I will always try to be there for them. I do recognize that telling someone about it and dealing with the emotion and physical backlash of a rough situation are two entirely separate things. This insight into people’s minds has made reading Station Eleven all the more enjoyable. The author does a phenomenal job of showing people who are simply dealing with their lives. They are getting tattoos and drinking to deal. They are traveling around, performing, drawing, and leading cults to confront the backlash of stress.
By Marissa shook8 years ago in Psyche
Becoming a Drug Addict Was the Best Thing That Ever Happened to Me
So at seventeen years old, I had been accepted to college, along with an academic scholarship to go along with it. I went to a private high school and I was held to a high standard. If you were to take a look at me on a piece of paper, one would believe me to be a well-mannered, privileged white boy who was going somewhere in life. What people did not know was that I had a raging heroin addiction at seventeen years old.
By Mike Mestrovich8 years ago in Psyche
Growing up with Addiction
Within our current culture, people often do not realize how alcohol can ruin lives, families, and careers. It is socially acceptable to binge drink to the point of blackout each weekend with friends, have a drink after work every day, and then to post all about it on social media. Am I saying that if you do these things then you're an alcoholic? Absolutely not. What I'm saying is within our current social climate, people often do not give alcohol and the risks associated with its consumption the respect it deserves. I, and many other families plagued by addiction, grew up knowing the extent to which alcohol can ruin a person and their loved one, and as a result, I am always careful when consuming it. Personally, I haven't made the choice to refrain from alcohol consumption all together, but many people have out of fear that it will ruin their lives like it did to their loved ones. Unfortunately there is a persisting culture of shame surrounding this issue, and in an attempt to break some of the barriers down, let's have an honest conversation about alcohol.
By Briar Landry8 years ago in Psyche
My Brother Died of An Overdose...His Name Was Matty
My brother died of a heroin overdose. His name was Matty. He was beautiful, he was funny, he was courageous and compassionate, he was talented, he was athletic, he was charming-and he was stolen. My baby brother was stolen by a substance, and nothing was done about it. The nurses, the doctors, the therapists-they all said how handsome he was, and how sorry they felt for me. They said they see this all the time, such young lives taken too soon. Some are taken instantly, and some are taken gradually. In my brother’s case, it was gradual. I never got a call saying “he’s overdosed, he’s gone,” something I had always assumed in my gut would happen. I received a call saying he was on a ventilator, but was breathing on his own. No one prepares you for seeing your loved one in that predicament. My brother was alone. He was unconscious. He was brain dead.
By Robyn Zarli8 years ago in Psyche
The Devil's Playground
Let me start by saying that I enjoy going to a casino about once a month to play the slot machines. They can be alot of fun. The flashing lights, the spinning images, and awesome graphics can leave you entertained for an hour maybe more. I occasionally accompany my mom when she wants to play bingo. However, there are many dangers associated with gambling if you are not careful. Gambling can become addictive and wreak havoc on so many levels. Similar to drugs and alcohol, gambling can destroy lives. It can develop into a disease of the brain. When we gamble, this triggers an automatic response to the "pleasure centre" in the brain, thus generating more dopamine resulting in an increase of adrenaline and euphoria. I chose to write this article to educate those who start and to encourage problem gamblers to seek help.
By Janelle Ouellet8 years ago in Psyche
My Unseen Recovery
Sometimes we wake up one morning and struggle with comprehending how we got to where we are right now. This is something that happens to me nearly every morning during my morning coffee as I sit at my kitchen table and reminisce about the "good ole days." The days when I knew exactly who I was as a person. Today I can honestly say that I do not recognize the person that I see staring back at me when I look in the mirror anymore.
By Alyssa Horn8 years ago in Psyche
