buccosfan2004

Thanks! I suspect I'm one of the one that just can't go near herbs. But that depresses the hell out of me. I mean, I've had this for about 10 years now -- and I STILL miss the herb every single day. It's like, shit, if I could just get that back -- I'd be damn near as good as new. Appreciate your thoughts on the daily knowledge -- it's tough. I try to read about mindfulness, insight into oneself, all that -- sometimes it gets to be too much and I remember that too much insight into this can sort of freak me out -- but for the most part it helps. The other thing I remind myself is that goddamn -- I have been through hell and back. And no one that I know - NO ONE - knows it. No one one understands that white-knuckle pain of thinking you're losing your mind. That you had so much promise, and one dumb mistake took it all -- not just your freedom or something, but your fucking sanity. It's crazy. But still -- every day is new. Everyday I work to get myself back to whole.

Hey guys -- My story, real quick -- - "Good" kid, didn't do a lot of drugs -- basically none beyond pot - When I was 20, junior year of college, my roommates got real into LCD -- I tried it a few times -- the first time I did it, I took three hits because I was an idiot -- started tripping balls, the whole thing - And then - DUN DUN DUN! - it never went away. Trails, severe/crippling depression, visuals all fucked up, etc. I spent a little time online, discovered I had HPPD, read stories about people going insane and I had a breakdown, basically - But, I NEVER told anyone. I was embarrassed and ashamed. I white-knuckled it through class, around family, around friends. - After graduation, I moved to NYC and started drinking heavily. Soon after, cocaine heavily. Booze eased the anxiety, cocaine made me talkative and feel alive again. This is around 2006. Now, 2013, my life is not terrible. I'm a successful writer. I write children's fiction and non-fiction. I have an absolutely wonderful fiance (who knows nothing of my HPPD). My family knows nothing of my HPPD. I had one girlfriend who I told in 2008 or so, she got me to a doctor, she got my brain examined, I found out there was nothing wrong with my brain (what a relief!) etc. I take clonazepan - 1mg daily. I took prozac for a while, but stopped -- I was sick of the weight I put on, sick of not knowing why I was feeling what I was feeling, sick of feeling sort of numb. So I wanted to say this -- I HAVE HPPD, I STRUGGLED HORRIBLY, I WHITE-KNUCKLED IT, AND NOW I LIVE A RELATIVELY NORMAL LIFE, I HAVE MY DREAM JOB - THIS SHIT DOESN'T HAVE TO END YOU! Here is where I struggle though, and I struggle everyday: - My life would have been better. It should have been better. It should have been a wonderful life -- instead, it's a passable life. And I have no one to blame but myself and the unlucky brain chemistry that lead to this situation. - I miss smoking pot. I miss it everyday. I LOVED pot. As a writer, it made me creative. It gave me a social circle of buddies -- I was so happy smoking pot and playing videogames and watching movies -- not being lazy and useless all day, but doing that for two hours a day -- that was something I loved. My question for you guys? - How do you deal with the knowledge - the daily knowledge -- that you are basically wounded. That you fucked yourself. - Is there ANYWAY that I can smoke pot again? Whenever I try now, I just feel weird. Like - not exactly paranoid - but weak, shaky, just want this to end. I miss laughing, I miss thinking bad movies are hilarious, etc. Anyway -- that's all -- if anyone has questions about my experiences, I'll answer. And would love to hear your reactions on the pot thing