I had a manic attack last Saturday. I always have difficulty determining exactly when an attack occurs. I think I became aware of it by 6:00PM. It was very intense. I had taken two Percacets that day, one in the morning to address back pain and one in the evening for pure pleasure. I also ended up taking the last of my Vicodin, three and a half tablets. I got a pretty buzz going so that also contributed to my vagueness about when the attack occurred.
At some time in the evening I woke up my wife to ask her if she had any marijuana. She groggily replied that she did not and that she didn't even know where her pipe had gotten to. We don't smoke marijuana but I really wanted to get a buzz on. This was no doubt due in part to the events of Saturday's morning and afternoon when we went with my brother and his wife to the Hardly Strictly Bluegrass festival in Golden Gate park (see my earlier post). I needed to unwind. I needed to get high.
I miss Quaaludes. I remember when they first showed up in my hometown. I was sitting in a bar drinking beer with my friends. A local dealer came by and sat down with us. He asked us if we had ever of Quaaludes. Nobody at the table had. He said it was a new drug. He said it was a horse tranquilizer. I couldn't imagine what a horse tranquilizer could possibly do to make a person high. Anyway, we bought a bunch at what would later turn out to be bargain basement prices. We dropped them with our beer and waited for something to happen.
Man did I get stoned. It was a dreamy barbiturate high with psychedelic overtones. We all came to love them and became regular buyers of them. There seemed to be an endless supply of them in my hometown. I sued to take them with LSD to take the edge off of the trip and add the body high to the screaming hallucinations of acid.Some years after that first Quaalude experience the supply seemed to dry up and they became scarce and expensive. But I was already leaving hard drugs behind me by then.
I could have used a Quaalude Saturday night. I settled for opiates, instead. Vicodin and Percacet are a pretty tame substitute from opium, my drug of choice during my late teens and early twenties. I'd spend almost anything for some opium now. But it's a felony possession and I can't find a dealer for it, anyway. I'm left with wistful sighs and domesticated codeine substitutes. So I indulged myself on Saturday. I got a small buzz and felt no pain in my back, to boot. I have a prescription for Vicodin and got the two Percacets from my wife.
My wife gets the Percacets from a friend in exchange for Klonopin. I chipped in with the Klonopin the last time she scored. She has a Percacet habit. It's distressing and I am always on her case to whittle down her dependence. For one thing, her source is unreliable. I also end up losing all my Klonopins. I have Valium which has become my tranquilizer of choice these days but I am thinking about returning to Klonopin. Valium makes me too sleepy.
So I abused Percacet and Vicodin last Saturday. I really didn't feel very much at all, quite frankly. I just got real mellow and the problems of the world and all my worries went away. It must have been during this high that the mania kicked in. I'm not sure how much the drugs contributed to it, if at all. I know that I had become aware of my mania by 7:00PM. As always I was torn about addressing it medicinally. I did not. I decided to enjoy the trip while listening to my stereo. It was wonderful as always. I sometimes wish I could induce a controlled mania for those times when I need to escape the world.
My mania was marked by intense hallucinations this time. I saw things in my peripheral vision. I heard mummers in the music that didn't belong there. I felt sudden grips on my leg. I didn't have olfactory or taste hallucinations, however. It was all very intense. These are typically symptoms of the onset of psychosis for me. I wonder if the drugs caused them? They overflowed into my dreams as nightmares when I finally went to sleep Sunday morning.
On one of my frequent trips into the bedroom to check up on my wife I found her awake. Or did I wake her up at 3:00AM? I don't remember. I always have difficulty remembering the specifics of my mania. Maybe it's because nothing outstanding ever occurs during them. Anyway, I remember asking her if she had any marijuana. She didn't. I was crestfallen. I wonder what would have happened if I had decided to mix pot with my manic trip?
I realized that I was going to be awake all night. So after talking to my sleepy wife I decided to send a note to Tess, my gym trainer, cancelling my gym appointment for Sunday. I asked her to let me know if anything opened up on Monday. Otherwise I would see her on Tuesday as scheduled. It's probably just as well that Tess didn't have an opening on Monday. I had analysis from 11:00 to 12:00 and a 2:40 appointment with my GP. This didn't leave a lot of room for gym today.
Something strange happened during my mania. I became angry at around 5:00AM. I got to stewing over the way I have received no personal support from neither my wife's daughter not her mother during her infirmity. My wife has been bedridden since the time of that horrible incident a week and a half ago. She's been very depressed and waiting for the Lexapro to work. During the whole time I have been taking care of her I no one has inquired after how I was doing.
This occurred to me during my mania so after getting angry I decided to write a letter to them. I spend the better part of two hours composing it. I remember my wife coming out of the bedroom at 7:00AM and asking how I was doing (she knew I was in mania). I told her angrilly that I was writing a letter to her daughter and mother expressing my resentment at their lack of support for me. She looked a little wary but returned to use the bathroom and then to bed.
She read the letter later Sunday morning. I said I had not sent it. She told me not to. I was a little confused but agreed to keep it to myself. I might post it here, however. Later in the day I told her that I almost emailed it to her daughter but decided not to. She didn't look relieved but didn't say much about it, either. The letter contains a fair amount about my perception of her diagnosis and subsequent events. I don't think my wife agrees with most of it. Too bad.
The mania began to wear me out physically later Sunday morning. By 9:00AM I was in bed unable to sleep. I took 400mg of Trazodone and a Valium. I tossed and turned and had terrible nightmares. Sometime later I sort of woke up. My wife had made me a peanut and jelly sandwich. I ate it and another Valium she gave me. I slept soundly through until 6:00AM this morning. I had a cigarette and returned to sleep. I woke up at 9:00AM, my internal alarm clock back to normal. I washed up and went to analysis.
My doctor reluctantly prescribed Percacet for me and renewed my Vicadin prescription for me. On the way back from my Walgreens where I picked up the Percacet and a Geodon refill (they had forgotten to fill and give me my Vicodin prescription) my wife and I returned to Valencia street to pick up marijuana for her mother from the club there. I took up to her mother when we got back to Freedom West. I asked for and received a bud of it from her mother. I also got an extra pipe she had. I've stashed these away and plan to trot them out late at night when my wife is asleep. It's probably a safer high than Percacet and Vicodin. But I won't be able to reconcile the psychedelic experience with my wife's general downer personality.
At some time in the evening I woke up my wife to ask her if she had any marijuana. She groggily replied that she did not and that she didn't even know where her pipe had gotten to. We don't smoke marijuana but I really wanted to get a buzz on. This was no doubt due in part to the events of Saturday's morning and afternoon when we went with my brother and his wife to the Hardly Strictly Bluegrass festival in Golden Gate park (see my earlier post). I needed to unwind. I needed to get high.
I miss Quaaludes. I remember when they first showed up in my hometown. I was sitting in a bar drinking beer with my friends. A local dealer came by and sat down with us. He asked us if we had ever of Quaaludes. Nobody at the table had. He said it was a new drug. He said it was a horse tranquilizer. I couldn't imagine what a horse tranquilizer could possibly do to make a person high. Anyway, we bought a bunch at what would later turn out to be bargain basement prices. We dropped them with our beer and waited for something to happen.
Man did I get stoned. It was a dreamy barbiturate high with psychedelic overtones. We all came to love them and became regular buyers of them. There seemed to be an endless supply of them in my hometown. I sued to take them with LSD to take the edge off of the trip and add the body high to the screaming hallucinations of acid.Some years after that first Quaalude experience the supply seemed to dry up and they became scarce and expensive. But I was already leaving hard drugs behind me by then.
I could have used a Quaalude Saturday night. I settled for opiates, instead. Vicodin and Percacet are a pretty tame substitute from opium, my drug of choice during my late teens and early twenties. I'd spend almost anything for some opium now. But it's a felony possession and I can't find a dealer for it, anyway. I'm left with wistful sighs and domesticated codeine substitutes. So I indulged myself on Saturday. I got a small buzz and felt no pain in my back, to boot. I have a prescription for Vicodin and got the two Percacets from my wife.
My wife gets the Percacets from a friend in exchange for Klonopin. I chipped in with the Klonopin the last time she scored. She has a Percacet habit. It's distressing and I am always on her case to whittle down her dependence. For one thing, her source is unreliable. I also end up losing all my Klonopins. I have Valium which has become my tranquilizer of choice these days but I am thinking about returning to Klonopin. Valium makes me too sleepy.
So I abused Percacet and Vicodin last Saturday. I really didn't feel very much at all, quite frankly. I just got real mellow and the problems of the world and all my worries went away. It must have been during this high that the mania kicked in. I'm not sure how much the drugs contributed to it, if at all. I know that I had become aware of my mania by 7:00PM. As always I was torn about addressing it medicinally. I did not. I decided to enjoy the trip while listening to my stereo. It was wonderful as always. I sometimes wish I could induce a controlled mania for those times when I need to escape the world.
My mania was marked by intense hallucinations this time. I saw things in my peripheral vision. I heard mummers in the music that didn't belong there. I felt sudden grips on my leg. I didn't have olfactory or taste hallucinations, however. It was all very intense. These are typically symptoms of the onset of psychosis for me. I wonder if the drugs caused them? They overflowed into my dreams as nightmares when I finally went to sleep Sunday morning.
On one of my frequent trips into the bedroom to check up on my wife I found her awake. Or did I wake her up at 3:00AM? I don't remember. I always have difficulty remembering the specifics of my mania. Maybe it's because nothing outstanding ever occurs during them. Anyway, I remember asking her if she had any marijuana. She didn't. I was crestfallen. I wonder what would have happened if I had decided to mix pot with my manic trip?
I realized that I was going to be awake all night. So after talking to my sleepy wife I decided to send a note to Tess, my gym trainer, cancelling my gym appointment for Sunday. I asked her to let me know if anything opened up on Monday. Otherwise I would see her on Tuesday as scheduled. It's probably just as well that Tess didn't have an opening on Monday. I had analysis from 11:00 to 12:00 and a 2:40 appointment with my GP. This didn't leave a lot of room for gym today.
Something strange happened during my mania. I became angry at around 5:00AM. I got to stewing over the way I have received no personal support from neither my wife's daughter not her mother during her infirmity. My wife has been bedridden since the time of that horrible incident a week and a half ago. She's been very depressed and waiting for the Lexapro to work. During the whole time I have been taking care of her I no one has inquired after how I was doing.
This occurred to me during my mania so after getting angry I decided to write a letter to them. I spend the better part of two hours composing it. I remember my wife coming out of the bedroom at 7:00AM and asking how I was doing (she knew I was in mania). I told her angrilly that I was writing a letter to her daughter and mother expressing my resentment at their lack of support for me. She looked a little wary but returned to use the bathroom and then to bed.
She read the letter later Sunday morning. I said I had not sent it. She told me not to. I was a little confused but agreed to keep it to myself. I might post it here, however. Later in the day I told her that I almost emailed it to her daughter but decided not to. She didn't look relieved but didn't say much about it, either. The letter contains a fair amount about my perception of her diagnosis and subsequent events. I don't think my wife agrees with most of it. Too bad.
The mania began to wear me out physically later Sunday morning. By 9:00AM I was in bed unable to sleep. I took 400mg of Trazodone and a Valium. I tossed and turned and had terrible nightmares. Sometime later I sort of woke up. My wife had made me a peanut and jelly sandwich. I ate it and another Valium she gave me. I slept soundly through until 6:00AM this morning. I had a cigarette and returned to sleep. I woke up at 9:00AM, my internal alarm clock back to normal. I washed up and went to analysis.
My doctor reluctantly prescribed Percacet for me and renewed my Vicadin prescription for me. On the way back from my Walgreens where I picked up the Percacet and a Geodon refill (they had forgotten to fill and give me my Vicodin prescription) my wife and I returned to Valencia street to pick up marijuana for her mother from the club there. I took up to her mother when we got back to Freedom West. I asked for and received a bud of it from her mother. I also got an extra pipe she had. I've stashed these away and plan to trot them out late at night when my wife is asleep. It's probably a safer high than Percacet and Vicodin. But I won't be able to reconcile the psychedelic experience with my wife's general downer personality.
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