What We Never Hear About Heroin Detox

A former addict talks about the process

Maybe you’ve heard this before, “It was like the worst case of the flu multiplied by 10.” This is a common description used by heroin addicts to describe detoxing. I have heard the comparison as a scare tactic, during tearful interviews on nightly news shows, really any time an addict talks about the dreaded heroin detox to an audience of non-heroin addicts.

I would like to add my two cents for whatever it is worth.

Over the course of the years that I used heroin, as much as I wanted to quit, it was the horrible horrible detox that kept me using shooting dope multiple times a day, every day. I was determined to quite cold turkey but I had never been able to get past two full days without using, as the dope sickness drove me right back into the arm’s of my vicious cycle.

In order to quite heroin once and for all, I had to pick up and move across the country to a place where I was not part of any drug using community. I knew myself and I knew that once I was in a new environment I would not seek out other addicts and dealers. Essentially I was lazy and I was counting on that laziness to help me get sober. It worked. After multiple attempts to quit heroin I finally got it right.

I am not going to bore you with the gory details of that awful move but I am going to bore you with my experience of heroin detox. I am not attempting to speak for anyone else, this is what I went through and everyone has a different experience.

The first three days were excruciating. I would have gladly welcomed the worst flu ever in exchange for those for three days. You see, when I have had the flu I have been fortunate enough to flutter in and out of consciousness. Sleeping, waking, and drifting back to sleep again. That was not a luxury afforded to me as I kicked dope. I was aware of everything the entire time. And by entire time I do mean entire time because I did not sleep. Sometimes I would doze off for ten minutes but no more than that.

This list of ailments included muscle aches, running nose and sneezing, frequent urination (about every ten minutes), overall physical discomfort which resulted in twisting and turning, diarrhea, always too hot or too cold, inability to stop yawning, and insomnia, just to name a few. It was a struggle to drink water and eating was out of the question. I was strangely horny but couldn’t imagine actually having sex, I think it was just a desire for physical relief. I had no energy at all, I could barely walk from one room to the next. My attention span was all but gone. I couldn’t read the smallest magazine article. Movies were rough but helped pass the time. However, even the crappiest, over-produced cliche Hollywood blockbuster left me sobbing on the couch.

Opiates bind to receptors in the brain and affect how dopamine is processed, so when the opiate is removed the brain is depleted of dopamine (or at least this is how I understand the process from my non-neuroscience background). The physical symptoms of being dope sick are pretty awful. I cannot even begin to describe the mental aspect but I am going to try. Time passes so very slowly and every second of the day is spent wishing for just one more shot, just a little bit, just enough to take away all of the discomfort. During these three days I felt the worst despair I have ever felt in my life. Worse than sitting on the deathbed of someone I loved, worse than wishing I was dead, the only feeling I had was that nothing in my life would ever be good again. I don’t think I am exaggerating at all to say that I could only feel anguish and that nothing could make it stop except a hit of dope.

On day four I didn’t feel so bad. The physical discomfort began to subside. The mental hell began to decline.

Day by day things got better. Three weeks was the magic number for me. Many Benadryl allowed me to get a full nights sleep. As soon as I was able to sleep the dope dreams began. Every night I would dream that I was either shooting up or that I was trying to cop drugs or that I was dope sick. These dreams lasted for six months.

My attention span began to return and I could read a magazine article. Although my energy level was slower to return, I was able to start taking walks and sit through meals with family members.

One day, a month and a half after quitting, I walked outside and I could smell a nearby lilac bush. I felt engulfed by the exquisite scent. At that moment I realized that while I had used heroin I lost the pleasure of enjoying scents. I lost the pleasure of seeing color. I lost the delight I took in laughing and hearing other people laugh.

As my brain chemistry returned to normal I rediscovered very small things that had given me pleasure before I began to using. It was a homecoming back into myself, the person I had been before I developed a habit. I have been asked if I am ever tempted to use again. I have a tiny recall of the wave of pleasure that came with fixing (at least the first few months) and then muscle memory kicks in and all I can recall are the absolute worst parts of detoxing. Well that and watching Titanic. To this day I still recoil every time I hear My Heart Will Go On.