Junkie Symptoms

0) Things become missing in the household.
9) Bottles of cough syrup are being replaced with water.
8) Showers are being replaced by “wipe downs.”
7) Friends become replaced by substances.
6) Sneezing, runny nose, flu-like symptoms (every junkie knows about the “junkie cold.”
5) You begin to spend theoretical money.
4) It takes twice the LD50 to get desired effects.
3) Dosing is no long differentiated between overdosing, as they are the same thing. (Junkies dance with death daily)
2) The drug of choice becomes more.
1) Your life is divided into using, acquiring, and locating what you need. If your life is divided into morphine rations, chances are you need help from a friend or family member… a friend and family member who has either money, morphine, or will have the money or morphine.

I’ve been looking for a quality definition for the word junkie for
quite sometime, originally believing, of course, that junkie was a
means of classifying someone addicted to a drug. That’s too limited.
What constitutes the definition of something as a drug? A substance
that a person takes with the intention of a pleasurable response. So a
drug can be chocolate, sugar, caffeine, coffee, slim jims. When this
definition of drug is used, people are quick to point out that it
chocolate is less dangerous than heroin. Is peanut butter more
dangerous than marijuana? For someone with diverticulitis. Is sugar
more dangerous than cocaine? If you’re diabetic, maybe. Are
strawberries more dangerous than morphine? If you’re me, and have a
level 5 allergen to strawberries, then yes, you’re safer on morphine
than you are with strawberries. But strawberries when taken by someone
other than myself can cause a pleasurable response. The word junkie is
revised in my opinion to define anyone addicted to a pleasurable
response. People are rarely robbed for money to buy coffee, and
chocolate users usually won’t suck someone’s cock for a Reesees. Unless
of course Reesees was illegal and only one guy in town had some and
controlled the sale and manufacture of it. If chocolate became illegal,
would people seek ilicit sources for their M&M’s and Snickers? Will
fat chicks be sucking dicks in back alleys scratching their bellies
saying shit like, “You know where I can get a Kit-Kat? Some special
K… Yeah, I’ll suck yo dick!” And what a blessed utopia that would be.
Move over crack, Dr. Pepper has a higher stock than you and no one
cares if children abuse that insidious chemical.

Personally I feel anyone involved in the trade and distribution of
strawberries is a merchant of evil created by God to piss me off and
therefore a criminal. If I was president, you could buy morphine at the
Lil Cricket but you’d be sucking dicks for skittles, you fat fucks. The
algebra of need gets complicated when the need is illegal to satisfy.
The most dangerous aspect of the drug marijuana is getting caught with
it and having your life ruined because of it. It all comes back to the
hideous notion that an indepedently elected body of officials can say
what is good and bad for people laboring under the delusion they live
in a free country. It’s a free country as long as you’re not doing what
someone else considers bad, i.e. as long as you don’t want to smoke
pot, you’re free. As long as you leave the cocaine alone, you’re free.
The laws are made for your protection. There it is again, the hideous
and presumptive notion that an a self elected body takes it as their
moral responsibility to protect people from themselves. Should people
have the right to destroy themselves? Absolutely.

No one gets in a fuss when someone is paralyzed from getting their shit
ruined in a football game, but the parents never call up the government
asking for a ban to keep their kids protected from the evil that is
sports. Cars should come with parental advisory sticker and a surgeon
general’s warning that cars have been known to crash and explode and
kill OUR CHILDREN! People should be forced to walk to spare themselves
the dangers of public transportation. It’s for the kids, right? Walk
your fat ass thirty minutes for a soda and tell me how much you enjoy
having your needs taken away because someone else is taking the moral
responsibility of protecting you from your own poor choices. Naughty
naughty, get caught with a car, no need to search; just impound the
fucking thing and hock it at a police auction with all the other shit
the cops seized from horrible baby killing drug dealers and
terrorists… for their paycheck. To serve and protect is a euphemism
for patronize and annoy. If there’s a market for it, there’s an addict
for it; how do you think the market thrives? Addiction peddlers. When
the need outweighs demand, what happens? Gas costs $5 a gallon and
you’re barely making enough to afford to drive back and forth to work,
and that’s fine. Go out, get drunk, forget about it. But if you TOUCH
something we haven’t approved of, you better have a good lawyer, guy.

Drug laws in regards to public venues and the operation of heavy
machinery are perfectly understandable and in accordance with the
intention of protection, the protection of those not under the
influence from those who are. But who is to say what one is allowed to
do in the privacy of one’s home? Sure the contrary opinions will cite
my personal experience and dependency on medication in the past and
present, ilicit and responsible, legitimate and depraved. I was on
medication for insomnia before I hit puberty, and no one ever kicked up
a fuss about me being addicted to sleeping pills. Without them I can’t
sleep. With them I’m a drug addict. But it’s a socially accepted drug
addiction, because people need sleep, right?

Actually, sleep is pretty much the same thing as using a hallucinogen.
Your body is put in a catatonic state and you hallucinate until you
wake up. Chemicals that do this (psylicibe cubensis / fly agaric
mushrooms, DMT, LSD / LSA, banisteriopsis cappi, etc.) are illegal for
the purpose of protection. Protecting society from people under the
influence of these chemicals is understandable, but outlawing use under
the presumption of protection is ridiculous. If you’re old enough to
tie your shoes and decide what you’re going to do for the day and why,
you’re old enough to choose whether or not you want to risk taking a drug. My son is 17 months old and has been on drugs pretty much since birth.

Of course his drug usage was prescribed to treat common ailments such
as flu, pneumonia, strep throat, etc. And taking drugs to relieve
illness is the definition of responsible drug usage. So REASON for
usage is of more importance legally than danger. If someone breaks
their leg in eight places and they are in excruciating pain, they will
be given morphine to treat their pain. If they become addicted after
their treatment period is over, their reason for usage becomes null and
void and their prescription is terminated, any further desires and
physical needs will not be considered under law. How do you think I
know that? Real knowledge is based on experience.

Being caught with drugs ruined my academic life. Using drugs had never resulted in a grade lower than a 100. Teacher did not fuck
with me until after I was busted. The drug I was caught with didn’t do
half the harm being arrested for it did. After being arrested, having
used the drug sporadically with friends as recreation–no different
than hanging out with your friends and having a drink–I lost pretty
much all of my chances of employment in the field of study I was
interested in. Again, to the contrary it can be said if I didn’t have
the drug to start with I wouldn’t have been arrested, ergo I wouldn’t
have had my financial / business life ruined. To the contrary of that,
had I not been caught, had I been allowed to choose for myself what I
think is and is not acceptable danger to my person, I wouldn’t have
have been arrested; if I hadn’t been arrested, who knows? I might not
have the degree of anxiety I have now. The night after I was arrested I
was taken to the emergency room believing I was having a heart attack.
The following day I was taken back. Each time they gave me drugs and
sent me home. After the 50th or so attack, they scanned my CAT, made me
drink barium, analyzed me to the utmost physical end. Then they turned
me over to the god damn psychiatrists.

After consultation with a psychiatrist, I was put on medication for
manic depression, schizophrenia (!), insomnia, and anxiety. Tell a
psychiatrist you’ve been hallucinating and they just up your dosage.
They’ll up the dosage until you’re in a fucking coma. Do not let them
know the degree of your intelligence or imagination, it will stifle the
examination. It is best to convey ignorance at all times. The dumber
you are, the more likely you are to be helped. Ask a junkie about a
croaker, what the definition for a croaker is. There is one universal
rule: any calculated attempt at scoring prescription medication for
ilicit usage will fail 9 out of 10 times. 9 out of 10 morons with no
idea how to “trick” the doctors will get what they want and need a lot
faster than someone who studies medicine and psychology. If you have a
degree in psychology, and a doctor knows it, your intelligence will be
negated by suspicion of loaded statements, blankets and subtle
inference of need. They will be prepared from the beginning for a good,
sound, reasonable “act.” Ask people who have gone years with anxiety
without treatment how many doctors have helped them out with their
bullshit and often contraindicated diagnosis. They’d rather drain the
pool than cut off the water supply, and that type of superirority and
ability over another person in regards to their suffering, where the
suffering of someone is subject to the fucking whim of a quack prepared
for a bullshit story designed to placate a need. That’s all they see or
believe in. They know you’re capable of making them think you
need it. What would you do in this position: you have been suffering
daily for 5 years without treatment. The choice is between self
medication, madness, or suicide.

My anxiety later turned into what is called panic disorder, the
symptoms of which are DAILY, frequent panic attacks, feelings of unease and discomfort 24/7 in the chest or stomach,
chest pains, difficulty relaxing, difficulty sleeping (exacerbating a
problem I’ve had all my life), feelings of detachment and isolation,
along with agoraphobia and interaction with people in public sittings,
i.e. school, work, and anywhere outside the panic comfort zone, the zone
which irrevocably shrinks to a corner before the inevitable nervous breakdown and hospitalization. How would I know?

After my expulsion I resumed my studies, after a year, in the class
with other students after having been in isolated learning and study
since first grade. In first grade, myself and another student (Amber
H.) sat in the back of the class and helped the other children read. In
second grade, Amber and I were taken out of our regular classes, with
the other children, and placed in the Gifted and Talented program
at school. Isolation, from a group of 25 down to a group of two, then
later down to 1. I went to school each day, picked up my assignments,
and went to the library, or to study hall to read. After eight years of
isolation, I was put in the classes with other kids again. Before that
I was never treated as a child or a student. Before that I hadn’t
interacted with other students on a personal level since the beginning,
since first grade.

So, now the revised junkie symptoms:

10) You use it every day.
9) You don’t think you have a problem, but think it on the surface and aloud.
8) You can’t function without it.
7) You’d steal for it.
6) You’d lie for it.
5) You’d suck a cock for it.* (A crucial division between weekend warriors and addicts)
4) Your family wants to have “a talk about your problem”
3) There are visible signs of use. (Track marks for a heroin addict, a fat blubbery ass and belly from the other side of the people who stroke their pleasure principle)
2) You begin to suspect that other people are guilty of the crimes you’ve committed.
1) You’d suck two cocks for it. (Now that is dedication! )

*Does not reflect authorial consent or admission for such acts. I hereby declare that you, having read this, acknowledge this is a work of fiction and thoughts and opinions herein are products of your imagination. Sugar is not a suitable substitute for heroin, and if you have problems with such medications, don’t hesitate to ask to be included in our daily prayer for the recovery of all addicts, past and present.

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