Vicodin Dreams
Member
Thread Starter
Join Date: Feb 2013
Location: NYC NY
Posts: 1
Vicodin Dreams
Last night I dreamed of Vicodin. A side of Valium, and chaser of white wine. Chilled. Chardonnay. When I awoke it took me a moment to realize that's all it was. A dream, cousin to the nightmare that my days have become.
We are on a family ski trip. I have resolved that this time I will I sensibly rein in my habits - that's all it really is, isn't it? It's not so much an issue of not being to stop, it's an issue of not managing myself well. For the trip, I will ration myself to just 2 a day, except for today, because I do want to enjoy the first day of my vacation; besides, the kids are screaming and it's a long drive. I will have to drive some of it and there's nothing better to take the edge of tiredness than a 5/500. Since we're starting early, I also take half of an Adderall and mellow it all out with a little Valium. I am confident, energized and on top of things.
It's raining, and the ski resort is a sea of mud. There is no skiing, and my kids are competing with each other to see who can make the most noise. My patient and long-suffering husband finally hauls them off to the mall for a movie. It has been an exhausting day, and I treat myself to pill and a half. I head down to the bar and have a glass of wine, then two. I know better than to mix alcohol and opiates, not to mention the acetaminophen, but oh, the buzz. And besides, two glasses of wine feels like four, so I'm saving money - right? Soon I have a table of new friends, including an admirer or two. I enjoy the attention, even flirt with the notion of taking his number. A year ago I would not have done this. But the danger passes, as I soon get too sloppy to be attractive. Somewhere in the grownup part of my brain, I know to get back to the room. I take a few Valiums and am soon out cold.
I have a hangover. I know how to cure it. It is only the third day of our trip and I am down to 8 pills. I know what is coming. I reserve 2 to get me through my hangover, ad then I will behave. We finally make it to the slopes and I actually have a pretty good time. I teach my son how to snowplow.
Resolved: I will get through this trip, and then stop. I have a plan. I am down to 6 pills for 6 days. I buy 6 2 liter bottles of water, and dissolve a pill in each. Not perfect, but I am pleased at my solution. I make sure to hide them where the kids can't find them.
The day is ruined; I have to go back to the lodge every half hour or so to pee. This takes forever as I have to clump in, take off enough clothes to use the commode, and suit back up. I envy my husband who just casually steps off the trail and unzips. He is giving me a strange look. I tell him I am sick. I am. I finally give up and go back to the lodge and finish another bottle of Vicodin Water. It's like Vitamin Water, except it ruins your life.
4 days to go. I am wonderfully hydrated and I tell myself I probably flushed all the acetaminophen out of my system. I start to feel withdrawal. I know what it will be like in a few hours. I pop a Valium and tell myself I have to steel myself the next few days for the sake of the children. No use. I convince my husband I am sick, but that I will beOK to drive 8 hours, rest at home, and then come back with the car to pick them up. My son and daughter start to cry. I leave anyway.
Incredibly, I make it home, despite fortifying myself with a half liter of wine. Oddly, I can usually pace myself with alcohol; it was never my drug of choice, but not with opiates. I make myself a little care package of Adderall, Vicodin, and Valium, and head back the next day. I feel guilty for robbing my family of time with me.
That was 28 days ago. I ran out of Vicodin and Valium, and did not go back to my clueless GP for more, as I have been doing for the last year. This is my 12th day of sobriety and the first day I have felt remotely functional. I have told no one what I am going through. There was been a virulent flu going around, and my husband thinks that's what I have.
We are on a family ski trip. I have resolved that this time I will I sensibly rein in my habits - that's all it really is, isn't it? It's not so much an issue of not being to stop, it's an issue of not managing myself well. For the trip, I will ration myself to just 2 a day, except for today, because I do want to enjoy the first day of my vacation; besides, the kids are screaming and it's a long drive. I will have to drive some of it and there's nothing better to take the edge of tiredness than a 5/500. Since we're starting early, I also take half of an Adderall and mellow it all out with a little Valium. I am confident, energized and on top of things.
It's raining, and the ski resort is a sea of mud. There is no skiing, and my kids are competing with each other to see who can make the most noise. My patient and long-suffering husband finally hauls them off to the mall for a movie. It has been an exhausting day, and I treat myself to pill and a half. I head down to the bar and have a glass of wine, then two. I know better than to mix alcohol and opiates, not to mention the acetaminophen, but oh, the buzz. And besides, two glasses of wine feels like four, so I'm saving money - right? Soon I have a table of new friends, including an admirer or two. I enjoy the attention, even flirt with the notion of taking his number. A year ago I would not have done this. But the danger passes, as I soon get too sloppy to be attractive. Somewhere in the grownup part of my brain, I know to get back to the room. I take a few Valiums and am soon out cold.
I have a hangover. I know how to cure it. It is only the third day of our trip and I am down to 8 pills. I know what is coming. I reserve 2 to get me through my hangover, ad then I will behave. We finally make it to the slopes and I actually have a pretty good time. I teach my son how to snowplow.
Resolved: I will get through this trip, and then stop. I have a plan. I am down to 6 pills for 6 days. I buy 6 2 liter bottles of water, and dissolve a pill in each. Not perfect, but I am pleased at my solution. I make sure to hide them where the kids can't find them.
The day is ruined; I have to go back to the lodge every half hour or so to pee. This takes forever as I have to clump in, take off enough clothes to use the commode, and suit back up. I envy my husband who just casually steps off the trail and unzips. He is giving me a strange look. I tell him I am sick. I am. I finally give up and go back to the lodge and finish another bottle of Vicodin Water. It's like Vitamin Water, except it ruins your life.
4 days to go. I am wonderfully hydrated and I tell myself I probably flushed all the acetaminophen out of my system. I start to feel withdrawal. I know what it will be like in a few hours. I pop a Valium and tell myself I have to steel myself the next few days for the sake of the children. No use. I convince my husband I am sick, but that I will beOK to drive 8 hours, rest at home, and then come back with the car to pick them up. My son and daughter start to cry. I leave anyway.
Incredibly, I make it home, despite fortifying myself with a half liter of wine. Oddly, I can usually pace myself with alcohol; it was never my drug of choice, but not with opiates. I make myself a little care package of Adderall, Vicodin, and Valium, and head back the next day. I feel guilty for robbing my family of time with me.
That was 28 days ago. I ran out of Vicodin and Valium, and did not go back to my clueless GP for more, as I have been doing for the last year. This is my 12th day of sobriety and the first day I have felt remotely functional. I have told no one what I am going through. There was been a virulent flu going around, and my husband thinks that's what I have.
Member
Join Date: Feb 2013
Location: Gilbert, AZ
Posts: 1
Oh Lady Brudenell, I have lived that story many times (minus the skiing!!). I am glad that, although you told no one that knows you, you found support here through all of us. I love how you wrote about how we tend to rationalize our addiction as a mere management problem. I too did that so many times. Keep up the great work! 
Member
Join Date: Jun 2010
Location: Chicago
Posts: 1,125
Sadly that sounds somewhat familiar to me too, but that was 8 years ago. Back then I thought it couldn't get any worse. I must have hit bottom. Wrong. 5/500's turned to 10/325's two pills to four, eight, 15, 20, and eventually 30 or more a day. Hydro to oxy and eventually heroin. I am not trying to minimize what you are doing because sounds like you are struggling, but get out now while you still can. It can and will get worse. Much worse. You can look back in a few years and say thank God I got out of that place OR you can ride the progression and find yourself divorced or with legal troubles or worse. You deserve it, your kids deserve it, your husband deserves it. Take care and stay strong!!!
Member
Join Date: Nov 2011
Posts: 2,258
Wow, your story really hit home. So many times on trips I would run out and end up sick, having to tell everyone I am sick and me feeling that guilt, shame, and beating myself up. The life you are living is hard, and I personally know how you feel. I also have a family, and was a pill popper for years. It always seemed on vacations I would run out, and send me in this panic. I even missed a few trips because I couldn't get more. I am proud of you for coming here. Please keep writing. Please get some support. Telling my family was the hardest thing I ever done, but the best thing. You will be amazed at how much they will support you. And you will feel so much better. Hang in there.
Currently Active Users Viewing this Thread: 1 (0 members and 1 guests)
