DOSE:

IV

Heroin

BODY WEIGHT:

145 lb

Let me preface by saying I've been doing heroin for about 2 and half years now. I've smoked it and injected in intravenously but I highly prefer smoking mainly because it's far easier to acquire some tin foil as opposed to a rig and the high is far easier to control. However, in this experience I will be sharing my close call with death in what has been highlighted as one of the scariest nights of my life.

I can't remember each and every detail to a fine point, but I will do my best to recall exactly what happened. It was dusk when a buddy of mine (J) and his love interest at the time (A) picked me up from a street corner approximately three blocks from my house. I couldn't risk my dad seeing I was leaving. I had about $20 bucks in my pocket and so did J. Once we took off we drove for what seemed to be an eternity to get to the connect's meeting place. We waited for roughly twenty minutes and when they finally showed up we wasted little time preparing our shots. I noticed J was already preparing his rig (which looked to be a little more than usual, but I said nothing), to my everlasting surprise he told me to come to the front seat and said the shot was for me. Again, I obeyed blindly and didn't say anything except a soft 'Heh, that's a little more than I'm used too' He scoffed and told me to get ready.

After finding the perfect vein on my forearm he stuck the needle into my skin, pulled back the plunger, and began to slowly inject the thick brown liquid into my veins. At first I got the same intense rush with little to no side effects. I was instantly more talkative, excited, and just wanted to stay trapped in this opiate induced bliss for the rest of my life. I thought to myself 'Eh, that wasn't so bad...maybe I should be taking bigger shots from now on'. I stepped outside the car and went into the back seat.

This is the point in the story where everything turns to blackness.

The next thing I can remember is being semiconscious in the backseat, my head rolling in erratic sways and the audio of the outside world being muffled in a strange way. I knew we were driving because J was on the steering wheel. I could tell something was wrong, but I was so confused, so lost in a trance of what felt like heaven I couldn't bring myself to understand what he was saying. A was nearly in panic, screaming at me, trying to find a solution for what was happening. I couldn't even talk I was that fucked up.

Slowly, and I mean very, very slowly, I started to gain the ability to talk once more. I was slurring my words badly asking vague questions like 'Whaaa, whwat- what's going on?' Still I couldn't understand what they were saying, but I could see the terror and rage in J's eyes. Continually glancing black at me shouting inaudible words in my face. I was lost in sea of intense confusion, but somehow I managed to stay awake throughout the entire process. It was at this point I knew something was wrong, but I wasn't entirely sure what it was (confusion, remember?) but a wave of panic swept over me. I tried smacking myself in the face to regain some kind of conscious thought, but it wasn't working. Still I was slowly going back to this reality. Finally, after what seemed like an eternity I could understand what they were saying.

'Can you fucking hear me?!'

I nodded, and began to engage in a very distorted conversation.
'What's happening?'
J sighed a breath of relief; 'You fucking passed out and wouldn't wake up.' A interjected, 'He was literally hitting you the face to wake you up, you were completely gone'.

I still couldn't really talk, but I managed to utter a soft 'Holy shit.'
Now that I was awake, A made it her duty to keep checking on me, making sure I didn't fall asleep, as that would surely mean death. They started to deliberate on what to do. They contemplated taking me to the hospital but due to the fact I was starting to recover it wouldn't make much sense. I felt the worst had ended and I was only getting better. We wound up the parking lot, my two guardian angels watching my movements. I stepped outside to vomit. What came out was a black phlegm mixed with the last thing I ate (a hamburger if memory serves), it was all I could get out.

I was starting to feel better, I could walk in the loosest sense of the word but that was a success all in its own. I told them i don't need to go to the hospital we just had to get me home. They agreed and we hopped in the car making our way all the way across town. Regaining consciousnesses I tried to piece together what happened by asking questions. While J was initially reluctant to talk, what I gathered from A was that I had gone to lie down in the back seat, making no noise, and passed out. J calmly told me to get my ass up but after seeing I wasn't responsive, they began to panic. I guess we drove around for quite some time before the idea of going to the hospital was even in their minds. Going to the hospital meant my parents would have to come collect me, and know I did heroin again. I guess they knew this.

I'm starting to come back to life. My motor skills are improving and the 'high' is gone entirely. Fear is still in the back of mind, but so is gratitude. I keep thanking A & J for watching over me as opposed to dropping me off somewhere to rot and in all probability die.

As we near my house, we park a couple blocks away and they tell me to walk down the street and come back to see how well I'm functioning. I do just fine, pass their makeshift sobriety test and they give me permission to go home...assuring me they're going to call me every ten minutes to make sure I'm still breathing.

True to their word we frequently communicate with each other, I tell them everything is okay and give them some piece of mind. After about half an hour I fall asleep into one of the most peaceful slumbers I've ever endured and awake the next morning feeling elated and lucky.

Heroin is not a fucking joke. People really do die from this drug in the same fashion I was supposed to. I urge anybody who is going to IV for the first time to stay away from large shots, even if you're body weight is fairly high you simply don't know how strong your shit is. It's not a matter of physical strength, it's a matter of how much your body is capable of withstanding. I haven't shot up since my OD & I don't plan too. Foolishness is the root of all overdoses, and if I ever do this drug again I will stay to my conventional method of smoking, which produces a very powerful high all in itself.

Use responsibly kids, don't try to be a badass like I did.

Exp Year: 2012	ExpID: 97717
Gender: Male
Age at time of experience: 17
Published: Nov 20, 2015	Views: 12,264
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Heroin (27) : Overdose (29), Train Wrecks & Trip Disasters (7), Small Group (2-9) (17)