Last month, I took too much 7oh. It hit me way different. It felt like my entire body was shutting down and was unlike any experience I had in my entire life. It dawned on me that I had overdose and was dying. I did not bother calling 911. I didn't want to live. I just thought how sad my life has become that I'd be found dead and naked on my bedroom floor. It was Friday and the only time when anyone would notice that I was missing would be on Monday when my boss would start texting or emailing me for things and I wouldn't respond. Then he'd try calling me. He would ask HR to see if I had any emergency contacts. I don't. How sad. Yes, I could see them calling the police and their doing a welfare check. Not sure what would happen after that.
Anyway, I was trying to cry because I was dying. It was scary. It was scary because it didn't matter. My whole life has been a struggle. I did sign up for an opioid treatment program that I never finished. They had given me Narcan. I gave myself two sprays. Why? Because I was scared of dying. The Narcan was the worst physical experience of my life. By the end of it all, I thought to myself I might regret saving my own life. There has not been any come to Jesus moments since.
My point is that overdosing on opioids is not as peaceful and joyful as I thought or read.
Anyway, I was trying to cry because I was dying. It was scary. It was scary because it didn't matter. My whole life has been a struggle. I did sign up for an opioid treatment program that I never finished. They had given me Narcan. I gave myself two sprays. Why? Because I was scared of dying. The Narcan was the worst physical experience of my life. By the end of it all, I thought to myself I might regret saving my own life. There has not been any come to Jesus moments since.
My point is that overdosing on opioids is not as peaceful and joyful as I thought or read.
