#3fpm

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It started after I separated from my husband. It seemed innocent enough, ordering drugs online, since the ones I was ordering were currently legal. I had a feeling that my psychiatrist was out to lunch in not allowing me a prescription for benzodiazepines, so I decided to cut corners. I found links to various suppliers on various online forums and was able to get numerous vendors to send me packets of pills in large quantities. I also got benzodiazepines in a paper form that you just put on your tongue like acid. I ordered in bulk and started to use in bulk. I loved the happy feeling and careless way they made me feel at least temporarily.

Fast forward a few months and I started to look at other types of drugs I could get. Having experience with cocaine, I wanted to try legal stimulants instead of using illegal ones. After some experimentation, I found 3fpm.

3fpm is a stimulant. I ordered a small amount at first but was instantly hooked. My addiction, at least for awhile, was controlled by mailing times and I was forced to take breaks in between times that I had to wait for the drugs to arrive. However, I smartened up and started to order larger quantities to last me longer. Its then that my full blown habit formed. I’d use the stimulant during the day and put myself out at night with benzodiazepines.

I didn’t realize it but using this substance was taking a serious toll on my mental health. I started to get paranoid, really paranoid.

I was using the computer researching various things online while using and I got into a panic after I was unable to fall asleep. After I sent an alarming message to a friend one night, I was arrested by the mental health authority at my home and was sent to the psychiatric ward at the hospital for a month in lock down. I was in an stimulant induced psychosis although I had no idea what that meant. I was forced to take heavy anti-psychotics which made me suicidal and was unable to sleep due to the fact that I was not able to medicate myself with benzodiazepines either.

In the psych ward I was told I was a psychopath because I didn’t want to be there. I was put in isolation for hours and I banged on the door with my feet and screamed at the nurses who worked there. They then injected me with something and I passed out. When I woke up the guards were at the door and they took me to the lock down unit, where you can’t have phones or go outside. It was torture. You couldn’t even have a piece of paper.

While in lock down all I did was walk up and down the halls, doing laps. I was super self conscious about being locked up like that and I had a feeling people would find out.

After I was released I went back to using, thinking my hospitalization was a mistake. I was very angry so I isolated and used heavily. I began a routine of going online and obsessing over things I’d find out, people I thought were stalking me etc. and barely eating.

My paranoia led me down a very dark path. I began obsessing over people who I believed were cyberstalking me. I cat-fished one of them and was able to find out all the things they were saying about me. They made up wild stories about how I stalked them and how they had the RCMP circling around their house looking for me because I was “obsessed with her.” She found out it was me and got really pissed. It was then that things got really out of hand.

After the cat fishing the girl’s friends began to try and catfish me. I left burner numbers on my Facebook profile. They’d call but I would answer the phone without saying anything. Sometimes I’d text back. I was able to determine that they were using burner numbers too because the first four digits always were the same. It was sad. Their attempts to catfish me back were pretty pathetic.

I Facebook called one of the women I suspected of cat fishing me and put tape over my webcam. She freaked out because she couldn’t see me and I told her I was experimenting on them using burner phones as a project. She got pretty upset. I could care less.

After this, I was hospitalized again, but in a free ward where I was able to leave. Still, unable to comprehend that my drug use was the problem, I left the psych ward and began to use again - only my diagnoses was delusional, so I was put on a debilitating anti-psychotic called risperidone. This medication made me suicidal, dysphoric and miserable. I used street drugs after as away to escape temporarily only to find that the come down was worse and the high non-existent. Frustrated by this I put myself in rehab.

At rehab I was convinced that my problem was risperidone, not illicit or non-illicit drugs. Having been on risperidone for 6 months by forced injection, I underwent a very painful withdrawal at rehab and was angry at the fact that I was put on this medication.

I left rehab after 2 months of sobriety. Following that I did a quick stint at a halfway house but left for my own home where I quickly began using again, 3fpm and benzodiazepines via mail.

I then began to spiral completely out of control, to take breaks from 3 fpm I used cocaine, ritually for days on end.

I opened an art studio and did stimulants, 3fpm on some days, and cocaine on others. I’d pass out medicating myself with benzodiazepines. By the second month of being at the studio my brain was completely fried. I couldn’t drive, let alone do anything but sleep.

I put myself in rehab again, only to flee because the anxiety was too much. I had placed an order for 3fpm and benzodiazepines before I went to rehab and they were waiting for me when I got home. I re-upped immediately.

After a few weeks of heavy using I had to start checking myself into the psych ward. I couldn’t get to sleep on my own without benzodiazepines and I ran out after a few weeks since rehab. I detoxed in the psych ward several times but eventually they caught on to me and suggested I go to detox. I refused the first time until eventually I had no choice. I blacked out in my car a few times and eventually had to call my estranged family to come get me and take me to detox.

I detoxed successfully but didn’t make it through stabilization. They put me on heavy medication that made me sleep and I had no clothes or makeup. I was a mess, so I was released. I stayed sober for a few weeks only to relapse on meth - I then checked into rehab again after blacking out and made it through.

I spent several miserable weeks at my family’s house full of guilt and shame. All my money was gone, I was in debt and I had nowhere to live.

Originally a 60's stimulant, 3-FPM re-emerged in 2014, and gained a reasonable degree of traction. Whilst it provided a pleasant enough ride on certain doses, negatives quickly emerged, with reports of inflammation and detrimental effects upon the nervous system. Apart from inducing a gradual malaise, I also found that it was extremely easy to slip into the trap of chasing the high via higher and higher doses. It is one to avoid IMHO.