Quotes About Self-medication

Each evening, after my parents' self-medication, their behavior would change. Some of the time they would be happier and we could get through the evening unscathed. But sometimes it would get ugly.

He didn't want to think about the past, present, or future. He didn't want to feel bad, or feel anything, so he drank some more.

As she limped down the stairs, she considered all the drugs in her backpack. Tramadol, methadone, ketamine, buprenorphine. Mix them all into a pint of tequila and she could get a front-row seat to Kurt Cobain and Amy Winehouse talking about what a douche Jim Morrison could be.

Claire didn't understand the appeal of being drugged. She had thought the purpose was to make you numb, but if anything, she was feeling everything much too intensely. She couldn't shut down her brain. She felt shaky. Her tongue was too thick for her mouth. Maybe she was doing it wrong.

He only drinks when he gets depressed, ' said Carrot. 'Why does he get depressed?' 'Sometimes it's because he hasn't had a drink.

The age at which a man begins using drugs or alcohol to deal with life's problems is the emotional age at which he remains.

hamlet of Hampton and there get as nearly drunk as his funds would permit. It was his only surcease. And as a rule, it was a poor one. For seldom did he have enough ready money to buy wholesale forgetfulness. More often he was able to purchase only enough hard cider or fuseloil whisky to make him dull and vaguely miserable.

The only way to stop the tears was to keep drinking the whisky.

Basically, I'm for anything that gets you through the night - be it prayer, tranquilizers or a bottle of Jack Daniels.

Well, I totally understand why people take huge drugs. Like heroin, or cocaine. I can understand why you would want to be literally out of your own head, because being in your own head is unbearable. In fact, the reason I haven't taken drugs like that is because I know that it would be so good to be out of my own head that I wouldn't be able to stop

There was plenty of liquor flowing, but most of it seemed to be going down my mother's throat.

When I sit in my bedroom with a book and a bottle of vodka, I do it because I'm sad, not because I think it's cool. I do it because I want to forget what I am thinking about.

For those times when I wanted to blank out parts of my life or when I was dealing with some depression, there was nothing better than heroin. Nothing.

People drink more when they're sad.

I was so in love I went into my room and drank half a bottle of Robitussin.

Then she'll drink. Sometimes it's like there's this well of sadness inside her, and she has to drink to fill it up. And then sometimes it's like there's a monster inside of her, and drinking's the only thing that will calm it down. And sometimes she drinks just because.

Kate looked up at her, hollowed-eyed. She wouldn't be use to failure) No. He tried to fix it himself. He self-medicated with drink.

medicated myself with too much TV, too much food, and too much worry—all designed to avoid having to feel the pain that one feels at the recognition of one's lost potential.

Drinking was what you did when things were so overwhelmingly good you needed a hangover to tamp them down, or when things were so overwhelmingly bad you needed to forget.

And the more I drink the more I feel it. That's why I drink too. I try to find sympathy and feeling in drink.... I drink so that I may suffer twice as much!

Every addict takes junk to escape something, the Muslim explains. He explains that most black junkies really are trying to narcotize themselves against being a black man in the white man's America. But, actually, the Muslim says, the black man taking dope is only helping the white man to prove that the black man is nothing.

Last time I was sober, man I felt bad, Worst hangover that I ever had. It took six hamburgers, Scotch all night, Nicotine for breakfast just to put me right.

At five that night, I went back to the market and bought three sixteen-ounce Rainier Ales. I bounced back to my house, Mary Lou Retton-like, sipped the first ale, took the Valium, smoked a joint, drank the second ale, took another Valium, listened to "Into the Mystic" ten times, drank the third Ale, too the Valium and the Halcion, and discovered two unhappy thoughts. One was it was only seven o'clock. The second was that I was wide awake.

The amount of painkillers I was given. Every time I had a pain in my leg I got used to numbing it out.