This is the best post. You're seriously inviting a rant? THE PAST FEW DAYS HAVE BEEN THE WORST. Yesterday, my sweet, sweet boyfriend and I woke up, determined to do well. We had sub strips, and I started with 2mg, ended up totally fine. Induction day is always hard, so we started 2mg at a time and work up. He ended up taking 4mg at once, thinking we were safe because I'd used the 2mg and we had last used together, and we sent him into terrifying precipitated withdrawal. Holy shit, I felt SO bad for him. I had it happen to me a few weeks back, and it is not a drill. Pure misery.
Anyway, while he's crying/begging/basically shitting himself/he is dead, he's begging me to help, and I start racking my brain for wtf fixed precipitated. "Wait, DOPE. DOPE DOES," so now we're literally running to get in the car before I can even say another word, me in a tiny dress while it's 30 degrees outside, no coat, just because of my crazy empathy button breaking for my babe. I hardly put shoes on. We jump in the car and we start driving AN HOUR+ to the city where we can cop.
We're more than halfway there when I realize that u/hyper_junkie yelling at me (unintentionally) to move faster has fucked us because holy shit, I left my debit card. And there's no going home. I'm 21, I live with my mama, and I had no idea what to say when we left besides that we were going to the grocery store?! Cringe. We are 100% fucked. We realize the only thing we can do at this point is open up D a bank account to transfer money into (I lost my ID on a plane last week), while he's just sweating bullets. This day is fun, so far. I'm not well yet, because I've only taken 2mg sublingually, and the whole thing is a shit show.
Long story short, because we just moved here, D doesn't have proof of address and CAN'T open a bank account. Both of our IDs are from out of state, and we're screwed. I don't know my debit card number for western union. My adoring mother calls me and tells me that, "weird, she's AT the grocery store," and, "I am nowhere to be found." Of course not. I'm an hour away.
Long story short, three people try to open up THREE bank accounts for this, everyone gets denied. I have to admit where I am to an extent, because I'm not just going to let my mom sit there, and holy shit, she is pissed. Trust broken. Rock bottom moment, for sure. The only thing left to do is turn around and go home.
Today comes, and the plug (another couple) says they deliver sometimes, and that if I just WU them money, they'll drop stuff off to me tonight on their way home from their family's house in bum fucked Egypt. At this point, for whatever reason the suboxone is not holding me AT ALL, and I've been sick since yesterday morning around 8am. It's tonight. It's 7pm. Fuck yeah, I trust you, take the money. I've dealt with them before, they are fellow redditors, they wouldn't screw this up.
Well, guys, it's almost 8:00 and I can't get ahold of them. Their thing started at 3:00, their phones are wifi based so they said they'd text me when they were there and when they were leaving (at 11am this morning), and nothing. Can't get them to pick up the phone. I'm praying the wifi is down at their fambam's, but we all know they burnt me. It's cool. We'll just say it. I'm fucked. Poor D is fucked.
Anyway, 48 hours into withdrawal, and it's so fun. I keep throwing myself between the hot tub and outdoor 15 degree weather, I am a complete sobbing mess because withdrawals do that, and on top of it, I feel so terrible for making my mom upset. I freaked out and had no idea what to do, guess I've just made a bunch of poor choices. I'm giving up on slapping sub under my tongue because it isn't working for whatever reason, and I'm just going to curl up and beg for death. Hours aren't passing.
I hope you guys are having a better night than I am. Bring on the horror stories. Make me feel better, because I really just want to die. Over and out.