#ketamine rehab

[recoverycnt]

Choosing a Ketamine Rehab to Treat Your Depression

Ketamine, once primarily known as an anesthetic, has gained recognition for its potential to treat severe depression when administered in controlled settings. However, it's crucial to understand that ketamine is a powerful drug with potential for misuse and dependence. Choosing the right ketamine rehab facility is a critical decision when seeking treatment for ketamine addiction or managing ketamine withdrawal during depression treatment. In this article, we will explore key factors to consider when selecting a ketamine rehab program.

Understanding Ketamine and Its Risks

Ketamine is classified as a dissociative anesthetic and is sometimes used off-label to treat depression. It can induce a trance-like state, providing relief from depression symptoms for some individuals. However, ketamine is also known for its potential for misuse, leading to dependence, addiction, and ketamine withdrawal symptoms when use is discontinued.

The Role of Ketamine Rehab in Depression Treatment

For individuals struggling with ketamine addiction or dependence, seeking help from a specialized ketamine rehab program is essential. These programs are designed to provide comprehensive support, including detoxification, counseling, and therapy, to help individuals overcome addiction and manage ketamine withdrawal symptoms.

Key Considerations When Choosing a Ketamine Rehab

Accreditation and Licensing: Ensure that the ketamine rehab facility is accredited and licensed by relevant authorities. This ensures that the facility meets industry standards and regulations.

Specialization in Ketamine Addiction: Look for a rehab facility that specializes in treating ketamine addiction and withdrawal. Specialization often means a deeper understanding of the unique challenges associated with ketamine.

Qualified Medical Staff: A reputable ketamine rehab program should have a team of qualified medical professionals, including doctors and nurses, experienced in managing ketamine withdrawal and providing medical support.

Customized Treatment Plans: Each individual's journey through ketamine rehab is unique. The facility should offer personalized treatment plans tailored to the specific needs and circumstances of each patient.

Comprehensive Care: Effective ketamine rehab should include detoxification services to manage ketamine withdrawal symptoms, counseling or therapy for addressing the root causes of addiction, and aftercare planning to support long-term recovery.

Dual Diagnosis Support: Many individuals with ketamine addiction also have underlying mental health issues, such as depression. Choose a ketamine rehab that offers dual diagnosis treatment, addressing both addiction and co-occurring mental health disorders.

Holistic Approaches: Look for a rehab program that incorporates holistic approaches like mindfulness, yoga, and nutritional counseling to promote overall well-being and support recovery.

Positive Reviews and Testimonials: Research the facility's reputation by reading reviews and testimonials from previous patients. Positive feedback can be a good indicator of the quality of care provided.

Navigating Ketamine Withdrawal

Ketamine withdrawal can be challenging, both physically and psychologically. Common ketamine withdrawal symptoms include:

Depression: A worsening of depressive symptoms may occur during withdrawal.

Anxiety: Increased anxiety is a common withdrawal symptom.

Cravings: Intense cravings for ketamine may persist during withdrawal.

Insomnia: Difficulty sleeping or disrupted sleep patterns can be experienced.

Psychological Symptoms: Individuals may experience mood swings, irritability, and difficulty concentrating.

Conclusion: Your Path to Recovery

Choosing the right ketamine rehab is a critical step on your journey to recovery from ketamine addiction or dependence. With the right support and treatment, it is possible to overcome ketamine addiction and manage ketamine withdrawal symptoms.

Recovery is a process that requires dedication and professional guidance. By selecting a reputable ketamine rehab program that offers personalized care, you are taking a significant step toward a healthier, drug-free future.

For more information and support on choosing a ketamine rehab program or managing ketamine withdrawal, please visit https://recoverycnt.com/ Remember, you don't have to face addiction and withdrawal alone—help and hope are available to guide you toward a brighter future.

[incorrectquotesideas-deactivated]

Person A: Uh, well, you should not do that…

Person B: Oh, I know, I know. But I can, so I will. [sighs] I’m at a place right now where I never need to grow as a person or rise to an occasion because I can constantly just surround myself with sycophants and enablers until I die tragically young.

Person A: Wh-what???

Person B: Yeah, it’s pretty much too late for me.

Person A:

Person B: Well, them’s the breaks! Take it sleazy, everybody. [leaves]

[shopketamine]

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[recoverycnt-nj]

RecoveryCNT offers instant relief from ketamine symptoms. Get in touch for effective ketamine detox rehabs in NJ. The staff here has deep experience in dealing with ketamine symptoms, alcohol and drug rehabs in NJ. Read to learn in detail about coping with ketamine withdrawal symptoms in NJ.

[doberbutts]

Curious about something you mentioned in your post last week, you said that in your opinion all drugs should be legal and I’m curious about how that would be a positive at all? Like I get weed bc it’s pretty harmless but when I think of drugs I think of cocaine and heroin, which have destroyed so many lives. If it was widely available wouldn’t that end up hurting more people than helping? That’s just my opinion but I’m curious on the other side

I do think all drugs should be legal. This is said knowing that addiction runs in my family and that the only reason my older sister is my *sister* is due to drug use and addiction. Otherwise she'd be my cousin.

Making drugs illegal does not stop people from getting high. It does not stop drug related crime. And it certainly does not stop drugs from tearing families apart.

Addiction is a symptom of a larger problem. Solve the problem and the addict problem goes away. Solve the addict problem and drugs stop ruining lives and destroying families and creating massive amounts of drug related violence. Places that have roled out decriminalization strategies effectively have seen an overall reduction in crime rates across the board, a reduction in recreational drug use, and a reduction in bloodborne illness like HIV. Creating safe needle exchanges as well as safe places to get high with medical staff onhand has also created a locale where very few people die from overdose.

Most people hear "decriminalize all drugs" and think I mean a free-for-all. I don't. I think the drug market should be regulated. I don't think you should be able to get ketamine or heroin over the counter at a walmart like you can get asprin. But I think it's time to stop putting people in jail for getting high.

My aunt tore her life and her family and her health apart for years while she was addicted to heroin. My sister, her daughter, needed to be removed from her care due to the amazingly bad choices she made as a mother due to her addiction and her prioritizing drugs over the health and safety of her daughter. My aunt has had multiple heart attacks from the damage the constant drug use did to her body.

My aunt is more than a decade sober and do you know why? It's not because she got a wakeup call when her daughter was taken away, because at the time she willingly and freely signed her over to my parents because that got her "out of [her] hair". It's not because she had a heart attack, because she went right back to it the moment she was out of the hospital. It's not even because she spent time in rehab and prison, because the moment she was out she was using again.

No, my aunt got sober because her life changed. She was put on a better pain management plan. She got out of her shitty marriage to her shitty husband. She completed some education to make her more hireable so she didn't have to rely on less than safe means of paying her bills. She reconnected with my sister and reforged their relationship once she was 18. She bought her own house. She found love with someone who didn't give a shit about her past and brought out the best in her.

My aunt was a deeply unhappy person. Heroin made life more tolerable for her. Until she couldn't tolerate life without it. Until she'd do anything, anything, to get her next high.

A lot of addicts are addicts because they are self-medicating for something else and their drug of choice has chemical properties that makes their brains crave it more. If you fix the "deeply unhappy" part, you create a healthier environment for that addict to take control over their life again. Without it, they are far more likely to continue to relapse.

Knowing this, why would I then want to add the threat of prison and jailtime- life-ruining things themselves- to an addict's list of concerns?

Look up rat park sometime. In the rat paradise, drugged water was freely offered, and occasional a rat here or there would take a hit or two, but rarely enough to even get high and almost never habitually. Addiction literally didn't exist even though the rats were taking addictive substances. But the rats in cages, seperated from each other, with no enrichment, crammed into small spaces and stressed to hell? Those rats took hit after hit after hit until they overdosed and died. The addict rats were deeply unhappy. The drugs were their only escape. The paradise rats had to be lured in with sweetened drugs to even consider and even then they rejected them. The caged rats did not need sweetner, even though the drugs made the water bitter.

If we can see such a stark difference in rats having their needs met vs rats experiencing isolation and stress, what would happen if we showed human addicts the same consideration?

I think a lot better results than continuing to jail deeply unhappy and desperate people for doing the only thing they can think of to cope.

[samkerrworshipper]

beautiful, beautiful, beautiful, beautiful girl

leah williamson x reader, jordan nobbs x reader (wobbs as coparents)

reconciliation … the final part in this series x

2 months later:

“My name is y/n Williamson-Nobbs, and I am an addict.”

There are things you appreciate nowadays, more then you did before. Fresh air, the flowers blooming in spring, a strong coffee, smiles from strangers, a warm bed, hugs, being told you are enough, a classic movie, the sun, fruit, water, being clean.

“I didn’t ever take drugs to hurt anybody, or hurt anybody knowingly. I didn’t take drugs to have fun, or party, I didn’t get addicted because I liked it.”

You like taking your dog on walks, going and getting your hair done, floating in the ocean, lying in grass, being sober.

“I took drugs because it made me feel whole. I’ve never felt whole in my entire life, everyday in my life I’ve used something to patch that hole up, during my childhood I tried to fix every single problem, I fixed myself by fixing everybody else in my life, my mom, my non existent dad. As I got older it changed, I seeked validation to patch the hole, it was healthy, but I think I’ve always been an addict and I always will be. I’ve been addicted to filling that hole, it was disguised as being healthy for most of my life until I switched the validation for drugs.”

You don’t avoid peoples eye contact as you walk along the street anymore, you don’t avoid your moms, you don’t lie to people anymore, you don’t put yourself in danger.

“It started with nicotine, because my mom enabled it. I think she was more scared for me then anything. I was spiralling, who wouldn’t be in this day and age? I mean any parent of a teen must be terrified in this day and age, I know I would be. The nicotine was good, but then I got introduced to weed, and it felt like every problem I’ve ever had was fixed.”

You talk about your feelings now, you identify every single thing that you feel and you talk about it with as much detail as your moms and therapist want to hear. You don’t study the different chemicals entering your body every time you shoot up anymore, you study the intricacy and meaning of what you are going through. You take medicine for your depression and anxiety, not drugs for your hopelessness.

“They say weed is the pipeline drug, it’s true. After weed, I felt on top of the world and there was no stopping me. Molly, LSD, coke, heroin, benzos, fentanyl, ketamine, oxy, speed, and eventually meth, which I now know to be the worst of all of them. I didn’t know it at the time, there wasn’t anybody in my life, or in the life I’d created forn myself that was willing to tell me how dangerous what I was doing was.”

Jordan moved back in, whilst you were in rehab. It had been two weeks, that’s what you agreed to. It was the worst two weeks of your life without any doubt. But when you were picked up, both your moms were there, both of them were there for you. They both took time off, time off to take you away, across to France for a week.

“Meth will always be the thing that destroyed my life. My parents don’t trust me anymore, I get why. I lashed out, I became devoid of everything, I was convinced that everybody hated me, and that I was the cause of everybody’s pain, including my own. I convinced myself that the people who loved me the very most didn’t, and that I was the bomb that had torn all of my relationships in my life apart. I was a kid though, I still am, and I’m trying to be better.”

The trust was a hard thing. Your therapist saw Leah and Jordan twice a week, and that was when they would discuss the things that they could start reintroducing you to. School was a no, for now. You were yet to be permitted to stay at the house, alone, for longer then an hour, so every training session, gym session, appointment, media duty, catch up with friends, you were dragged to. It had been tough in the beginning, but you understood, trust had to be earnt. Every week there was something to look forward to, Jordan had been teaching you to drive after you’d gotten out of rehab, and as of a week ago you were permitted to drive yourself to and from your NA meetings.

“Meth made me feel like I was on top of the world, even though i was at my rock bottom. I had bad friends, I fell into a bad group of people, people who took advantage of the fact that I was so vulnerable and hurt. I’ll never forgive them for that, I’ll never be able to forgive them for taking advantage of a girl nearly ten years younger then them. They were hurting too, but that doesn’t excuse manipulating another person. They hurt me, they enabled me, they assaulted me, they took things from me that I’ll never get back.”

The first thing your mothers had wanted when after you’d come clean to them about everything was for you to get a rape kit. You’d outright refused, you were protecting the people, you didn’t want to relive what had happened to you but also a part of you didn’t want Matt and Maya to go down, even if you could now recognise that they’d done unforgivable things to you. Eventually, you agreed to it. You were glad you did, Matt had passed on chlamydia to you, which you thought was some kind of sick joke, that even after he’d deserted you there was still parts of him that were hurting you from the insides. Karma came in the form of a sexual assault report, one which had the policemen heading to his home to arresst him, only to finds thousands of dollars worth of illicit substances.

“I’m not proud of what I did to get a fix, I don’t think any recovering addict is. A couple of months ago I would have ruined every single relationship I had with all of the people I loved just to get a hit of what I was craving, and nowadays I would probably do the same, but I don’t need to. Meth was the love of my life, I think it always will be, or maybe the craving for something to fill me up is what I crave, I don’t really know, I’m still working everyday to try and figure that out.”

Sometimes, as you drove home at night, around every corner towards the house, you considered taking a stop at a side street, one that you knew a dealer would be sitting on. Somedays, you considered driving the car off of the highway and into a tree. Somedays, you considered taking a blade to your throat so you didn’t have to do rehab. Somedays though, you felt so incredibly blessed to be alive. Sometimes, you would sit outside, in the sun and just feel, allow yourself to feel everything that you’d always pushed down out of fear that you’d be deserted if you let any true emotion show.

“We’re all human, we all have the same dignity, no matter who we are. I made some stupid choices, choices that I won’t ever be able to reckon with, choices that for the rest of my life will haunt me. Don’t we all though? Don’t we all lie awake at night worrying about the things that we’ve done, that are out of our control now?”

You’d come to not fear desertion, the people who you’d hated most in the world but also loved most in the world had deserted you. Your parents had deserted you, you closest friends, people you would have considered your found family, deserted you. It was something you had no control over, something that you would never have control over and focusing all of your energy on trying to fix that had become something that you’d give up on.

“I’m not perfect, I never have been, I never will be. I can guarantee though that nobody in this room feels like they are perfect. We’re all hurt people, everybody has something that they keep hidden from people because they are scared that somehow it is going to make people see them differently. I’m guilty of it, my whole life i’ve been hiding, I still am. I’m not ashamed to admit that coming here every night terrifies me, that somebody I’ve known at some stage of my life will walk through the same doors I do and I’ll be put face to face with that, but it’s life. We all make our own mistakes, we all pave our own ways.”

Leah and Jordan still fought, you were secretly glad. It was clear that everything between them was done, which you hated to be happy about, You weren’t ready for that to be back to normal, you weren’t ready to feel like you were able to go back to the way life was when they were together. Lia mediated them, she balanced everything out and the two of you had managed to build a relationship. She was like the older sister you’d never had and you were happier to have her around knowing that she was happy to support you in the same way your moms would, even if she wasn’t living in the same house as you all anymore.

“I will never be able to properly apologise for how I acted, I’ll never be able to repay the people that found me at my lowest and still showed uo for me. I owe my life to those people, and I will spend every single day of my life being so thankful for the opportunity they have given me to have a second chance.”

Life was better, everything was better, you were recovering, you were learning. You felt more connected and loved by the people around you in your whole life. You didn’t feel like you had to seek out love anymore, you didn’t feel like you had to do something to earn it. Leah spent every minute of everyday doing small things to make you feel loved, dragging you out of the house to get coffee with her, reading with you every night before bed, sitting through you when the cravings were making your day harder, driving you to the beach when you felt like you needed fresh air, dragging you to physio appointments so you could hang out with your aunties, buying you fresh flowers to put in your room to make the dark memories of it a little bit nicer, helping you redecorate the space, letting you sleep in her bed when the tendencies started to burn all over your skin.

“I have a disease, I have a terminal illness that will forever impair my ability to live life normally. I will forever be attached to my past, and that’s really tough, I won’t ever be cured of my past, I won’t ever be able to say that I am free of my addiction, I will forever be tied to my decisions.”

Your therapist was helping you weed out all the bad, helping you to identify the different patterns of self destructive behaviour that you chose, helping you to make better decisions for yourself, decisions that didn’t end in you destroying everything you’d worked for.

“I’m an addict, we all are, we all know what it feels like to be plagued with our past. We all get up here every week and speak about our demons, because we all get it. We get what it feels like to lose everything, we all understand the terror that crosses over a persons face when you overdose, or tell them that you’re using, or when they wake up across from your hospital bed. We’re all going through our own shit, we’re all struggling everyday. I struggle everyday, because I’m an addict, for the rest of my life I will struggle because I’m an addict, but there isn’t anybody who understands me better than all of you. I’ve been sober for two months, there have been relapses, there have been struggles, there has been pain and so much for me to be ashamed of. There has been so many positives though, there has been so much good, so much happiness, so many good moments. I don’t believe that everything happens for a reason, there is too much bad in this world for me to believe in that, but I do believe that this experience has made me a better person, it’s made me stronger, its made me more resilient. The past two months have been some of the best parts of my life, and i intend for the rest of my life to be the same. This chip means a lot to me, but it’s the progress that makes all of this better, knowing that I’ve left parts of me behind that will now stay behind me forever.”

You looked down at the chip in your hands, the little bronzey coin that was so small but felt like it was bigger then the world to you. You smiled at the group of people around you, nodding your head once again before walking towards you sponsor and giving them a hug. It felt good, like a big weight had been lifted from your shoulders. You’d never spoken much in meetings, you were more than happy to hear other peoples stories, but tonight had been special to you. You’d thought about what you were going to say, much of it being what you’d talked about with your moms earlier in the week during family therapy. It had been hard, talking to your moms so openly about how you felt, but it was something you were becoming better at as the days passed.

You stayed around for the coffee and biscuits, talking with the people that you’d grown close to over the past month and a half in the mildewy church which smelt a little bit too similar to your great grandmothers living room.

You stuck around until the first few people started to trail out, before you made the decision it was time to get home. You said your goodbyes, farewelling your friends before dismissing yourself and making the walk out to the carpark, towards Leah’s car.

Driving had become your one piece of real freedom, it was the only time where you got to think to yourself. A couple of months ago, you would have found solace in continuous loneliness, you would have sat in the car for hours and been happy. Now though, you found yourself navigating your way back home as fast as possible, whilst still abiding by road rules.

The gravel driveway underneath the wheels of a car used to make you nervous, if anything it now made you feel anticipation.

You jumped from the car with a hop in your step, the bronze chip still clutched in your palm, the metal now warm against your skin after the acclimation of the metal to your body temperature.

You used your key to enter the door, smiling at the warmth and scent that you were met with as you untied your shoes and left them by the front door.

Leah was waiting for you in the kitchen, she always was, every night you decided to go to a meeting. You knew that she still worried, that she spent nights awake worrying about you. You’d lost count of how many times on the nights you spent in your own bed how often she’d come to check to make sure you were still lying there. She probably always would worry, you wouldn’t blame her if she did, you’d put her through a lot.

She brought you into a hug, the same hug as every night, it always lasted for a little bit too long, but you never brought it up.

She would hug you tighter every single time, it was clockwork.

“Lia’s come over for dinner, she’s cooked spaghetti for everybody, but she made bangers and mash for you special, no pasta.”

You smiled at your mom, letting her press a chaste kiss to your forehead before you followed her into the dining room, where dinner was already plated up and Jordan and Lia were already seated at the table.

Jordan sent a smile your way as you sat down, things were still rocky between the two of you, it was never going to be perfect, it was never going to be as good as before, but you were both doing the work to heal bits of it and that was what mattered.

“Hey bubba, how was your meeting?”

Most nights you answered the same, with something simple.

“Good, I got this today.”

You pushed the chip onto the table, pulling your phone out of your pocket so you didn’t have to witness their raw reactions.

“Bubba, we’ve talked about this, no phones at the table.”

You frowned, pushing your phone back into your trackpant pocket, and looking up at your moms.

“This is awesome bubba, we’re both so proud of you.”

Jordan had picked up the coin, looking at it with glazed eyes.

There had been a lot of that since you’d come out of rehab, a lot of crying, a lot more than you were comfortable with.

“I want you to keep it.”

Jordan looked up at you, mildly confused.

“Bubba, it’s your token, your progress, your hardwork, you should keep it.”

You shook your head.

“Mom has my one month one, I want you to keep this one. I’m doing it for you two, I’m trying to be better for you two, and I want you to know that I’m committed to it and that without you guys I wouldn’t be able to do this.”

You could see tears pooling in Leah’s eyes from the other side of the table, jordan’s own ones beginning to drip down her face.

“Anyways, it’s not big deal, let’s have dinner, I’m sure whatever Lia cooked up is better than anything you and mom could have managed.”

You tried to pass it off with some lighthearted humour, but based off of the tears on your parents face, it wasn’t doing much.

Jordan and Leah both reached over, taking a hand in each of yours.

“You know that no matter what happens, no matter where you go, who you become, what you do, how you live your life, you will always be our beautiful girl.”

[shanastoryteller]

in the 'verse of 'at the rind,' does the ketamine treatment last?

¯\_(ツ)_/¯

i left it open ended on purpose!

i know the real world answer of why house goes off the rail in season 3 and beyond is because the writers felt the need to keep upping the ante, but my interpretation is actually that the way everyone reacted to him being pain free is what set house down the never ending spiral he was never able to claw his way out from

i think house's pain was 0% psychosomatic before the ketamine treatment and it only gained that component after

no one is happy that house is happy

there are two accusations that get thrown at house throughout the series that come up in this episode, both of which i think are bullshit

that he only cares about puzzles, not people, and he's never happy unless he's high

house is an ass but he's shown as caring for people, very deeply, and especially for his patients. it's crazy to me that the people who supposedly know him best always accuse him of being heartless and only caring about puzzles. like, yes, he's callous, and an asshole, but his god complex doesn't come from solving puzzles - it comes from saving people

he loves solving puzzles because it means he knows more than anyone else and it means he can save people that no one else can save. if all he cared about was answers, he'd be in research. if it was all the puzzle, he wouldn't push forward to find the answer even when the patient was certain to die, he'd just wait to perform the autopsy. but he always pushes forward, and yes, it's because he wants the answer - but it's also because some part of him thinks that if he finds the answer, he can save the patient, even when all answers lead to death

when house is lying about being in rehab in season 3, cuddy insists she can tell the difference, that he's more clear headed and focused now that he's off the vicodin. which is bullshit because he never stops taking it. they say house doesn't do happy multiple times. in season 5 when he's on methodone everyone thinks that he's high because happy, but the truth is that he's happy because his pain is gone

and he goes off the methodone because he thinks being pain free makes him a worse doctor

which is a belief that got instilled in him after he went through the ketamine treatment and was trying to be happy, was trying to care about people in a way that's deeper than just solving a puzzle or saving their lives. but instead everyone just gets pissed at him and when he figures out the reason behind a man's paralysis and manages to reverse it, they lie to him about it! after telling him that everything he was doing was torture and cruel! and cuddy tells him that an insane theory that makes no sense is as high as he gets - always, always implicating that house's happiness is artificial, that his interest in saving people has nothing to do with caring about people. and even when he uncovers the truth, it doesn't matter, because that unshakable belief has been instilled within him, that his misery makes him good at solving puzzles and no one believes he's capable of anything else

whether the ketamine treatment lasts or doesn't last was less of an interesting question to me. i don't think every one of his problems was pain related. it was also people related, which he may bring on himself by being an ass, but still

what i wanted a world where house felt safe enough to be vulnerable and to try for something better and different and the people around him leaned into that instead of away from it

[anotherpapercut]

I agree that drugs should be legalised and not stigmatized but you're delusional if you think "most drugs can be consumed completely safely with almost 0 risk to the user"

I think the key here is the word "can" by which I mean that if consumed in safe doses and safe environments and from safe sources etc most like mainstream drugs (I'm thinking of like mdma, LSD, shrooms, ketamine, coke) CAN be consumed safely with very little risks. I know this to be a fact #1. because I've done a lot of actual research on this where I've read numerous sources from scientists doctors and users as opposed to just say taking in the abstinence only information I received during school, reading a couple Tumblr posts and assuming I know everything there is to know about the topic and #2 I've used every drug I just listed and more and never suffered any adverse effects because I did my research, tested them for impurities when appropriate, and took other measures to ensure my safety

there are obviously exceptions and drugs that just shouldn't be fucked with (meth and heroin is what I'm thinking, but I also know people who have consumed these once or twice with 0 repercussions because that's how human experience works), but if you're actually interested in learning more about the many ways in which you were lied to about how "illegal drugs" are somehow automatically much worse for you than prescription drugs or socially acceptable drugs (like caffeine and alcohol) then feel free to either 1. do your own ACTUAL research that does not involve trusting for profit rehab centers and abstinence only educators (I'll even get you started with a couple good resources) or 2. message me off anon to have a real discussion about the mechanisms by which the most common drugs operate and the ways in which they can be consumed as safely as you can consume alcohol cigarettes and energy drinks but sending me your half cocked uninformed and unnecessarily insulting opinion on anon is not exactly productive. additionally, I'm sure you can see why I struggle to see or believe that you ACTUALLY think drugs should be destigmatized and aren't just parroting what you think the correct woke opinion is when you refuse to even take the very first step to destigmatizing drugs, drug use, and drug users and actually unlearn all the stigmatizing things you've been taught

I know that it's a lot easier just to port over all the things you've learned from dubious sources that you trusted implicitly because they claimed to be an authority and not actually do the work required to achieve the goals you claim to support, but easier doesn't mean right

[imeverywoman420]

Tumblr is the only place someone that just got out of rehab for ketamine addiction will lecture you abt not being a classy put together adult

[recoverycnt]

Ketamine Withdrawal | Ketamine Treatment in New Jersey |  RecoveryCNT

RecoveryCNT offers instant relief from ketamine symptoms. Get in touch for effective ketamine detox rehabs in NJ. The staff here has deep experience in dealing with ketamine symptoms, alcohol and drug rehabs in NJ. Read to learn in detail about coping with ketamine withdrawal symptoms in NJ.

[newsourceofnonsense]

15 questions, 15 friends

Thank you @sturniolo-rat for the tag. Love your account <3

Thought I would do this, seeing as I am new. Hope you enjoy getting to know me.

Happy to answer anymore questions if you have any, I am here to make friends!!

There is no pressure to those tagged. I just like the stuff you post and want to be part of this fandom <3

Are you named after anyone? No, but I am named after the place.

When's the last time you cried? Last week because I stubbed my toe and dropped my food 😢

Do you have kids? No

What sports have/do you play? I play rugby, and I sometimes box

Do you use sarcasm? Yes, quite a bit, actually. I have very dry humour sometimes....

What's the first thing you notice about people? Their smile and eyes

Eye colour? A grey blue

Scary movie or happy ending? Scary movie, I love horror. I collect horror memorabilia 🤓

Any talents? Very good at building things even with shit instructions

Where were you born? I was born at home in Dorset

What are your hobbies? Collecting records, reading horror books, collecting trinkets, spending time in nature, and working out

Do you have any pets? Two cats ket (short for ketamine my mum didn't know it was a drug) and ocean (responds to oh shit as well as she loves to creep up on people) and a dog named bear

How tall are you? I think 5,3 last time i checked

Favourite subject? Probably politics or sociology (but that could be because i have the same teacher for that, and she is the only nice teacher I have)

Dream job? A forensic psychologist or speech and langues rehab therapist

Part two for the quiet girls heart will be out soon...

My 15 people i like seeing no pressure at all

@strniohoeee @strawberrysturniolo @sturniolosarethebest @chrissturniolodaily @m6ttsturniolo @christinarowie332 @nicolassturniolo @chrissbluehat @mattsturniolodaily @mattsbella @sturn777 @sturniolosass @sturniolossss @mattsturnioloarchive @christophersturnioloswife

[fruits-basket-addiction]

｡:*•. ❁my fruits basket headcannons ❁ .•*:｡

*Their family curse might be that their bodies transform into the 12+1 animals of the zodiac, but their family secret is like, a heavy drug addiction

*Shigure shoots up fentanyl (recreationally, for some reason he can't die), claims heroin makes him write better (genuinely can quit it anytime, he just doesn't)

*Ritzu is hung as shit, like, carries a footlong under that long dress of his, tried to pop your clit like a pimple; apologized

*Akito dosed Yuki with benzodiazepamines, he went into rehab by himself and met Jordan Peterson, that was his personal rehab

*Aya has the picture perfect cock, like it's in a dildo ad, goes to the urologist weekly, had a breakdown when it hurt him when he peed (it was just a small cold) and hasn't recovered since, tried to smoke tobacco flavored vapes because he wanted Shigure and Hari to accept him, they told him to kill himself

*Speaking of vapes, Hiro and Kisa vape in their free time. He likes the coke flavored vapes and she likes the grape soda, Kyo steals from them when they sleep and secretly smokes them on the roof, annoyed they never buy the orange flavored one (he hates the flavor but the color matches his hair so it's AWESOME)

*Kyo has a heavy coke addiction, his master is his coke dealer, the training was a tolerance test(he failed). The reason he's so on edge during S1? Withdrawals. The transformation is just his skin getting itchy :(

*Aya has a collection of cock rings, not out of pleasure, he just decorates them, and matches them with his fits.

Religiously takes pictures of them with the fit (like a BeReal situation). Tried making an instagram for it, but got banned. He has a high following on femboy sites. (is a power-top femboy)

*Hatsuharu and Rin do ketamine, she's heavily addicted and he just does it because she does, you know, sharing hobbiea and stuff.

*Kyo doesn't know where the clit is, but neither does Tohru.

She has never cum, thinks she did. Kyo thinks women cumming is a myth.

*Akito takes meth, Shigure said she's "too lame to try it" and got her addicted, he has no fucking remorse, thinks it's funny how she has hourly psychotic breaks lol. Hides the meth sometimes for funsies, and turns his phone off for days at a time (he's her only plug and she can't let anyone else know)

*Momiji has a 9 incher, but it's like...not even finger girth.

People get impressed when they hear the length, but they never ask about the width, so he thinks it's decent.

*Haru's left nut is comedically larger than his right one, makes him walk funny.

*The reason for Hiro's attitude is his absolute clitoris of a dick (they measured it once in his PE locker room and he got bullied for it).

*Kisa takes opioids, but she's still only addicted to vapes (lame ass).

*Momiji's heroic shroom dose made him gain the german accent in the new version, he's not even canonically german, just a brain fart.

*Kyo got his pubes dreaded once, Tohru called him a culture appropriator, the dreadlocks weren't intentional, he's just hairy as fuck.

*Haru never lets his patients get morphie'd up, stocks it up (for himself)

*Kyo watched that one South Park episode where they get high off cat piss, tries it to get a kick (during his tough times of withdrawal), smells like cat piss, placebo-d himself into thinking he's high as balls, Tohru called up an intervention. Instead of a psychiatrist, calls a psychic. Gets scammed out of the all inheritance money her mom left her (like $150).

Kyo kills the psychic with a bat (he just wanted to hit her, the withdrawal carried him away). He thinks the cat-piss is so potent, it makes him violent, he's just an asshole.

*Kyoko intentionally crashed the car on the curb and died because Tohru didn't tell her "be safe", just wanted to heavily guilt trip her for the rest of Tohru's life, succeeded.

*Shigure has an "Asian fetish", he, himself, is Asian.

*Kyo and Shigure have a heavy ass foot fetish, tried biting their partners' feet like cats and dogs go ham on their toe beans, it just hurt.

*If the human form's dick is shaved, the animal's dick is also shaved. Imagine seeing a tiny ass rat with an even tinier, shaved ballsack.

*Speaking of tiny cocks, some of the animals' cocks sizes is equivalent to the animal they are, regardless if they're human or transformed. Rin has a horse cock, is what I'm trying to say. She tries hiding it under those mini ass skirts. It's uncomfortable.

*Kagura does bath salts.

*Hiro huffs elementary-grade glue, does it the wrong way.

*Shigure is the only one who knows everyone does drugs (except Haru and Rin who do it together, and Akito who got Yuki addicted), is the family dealer. Only one who knows how to smoke (aka inhale) anything, when anyone catches him smoking weed/crack/meth/whatever mixture he makes that day, he gaslights them he doesn't know what the hell they're talking about as he blows smoke into their face. (his main argument is "you're high"). His high school girl thing is the fact that in his free time, he also deals drugs to them, and if they can't pay him in money, they pay him in other ways, but he doesn't do it out of pleasure, he's just chaotic as fuck. Anytime he gets the "other form of payment", he calls the girls' parents and snitches on them, (not about the drugs, just the payment, because he wants them to become addicted) and he says they lied about their age (even tho they're wearing full on high school uniforms). His cartel is his way of earning, fuck the writing. His secretary or whatever that bitch is, is his main distributor.

*Kisa's mutism is just bullshit; she doesn't open her mouth because it's always filled with vapor, and she can't let her mom find out.

*Rin neighs instead of moaning, gets super pumped up when they do cowgirl position, "I'm your cowgirl daddy" type of bullshit, turns Haru off in an instant, he can't really say shit, she still provides him with K.

*Hatori, Shigure and that third ponytail woman had LSD mixed with DMT, had a 10 hour trip that felt like 5 years, fully made up the Hatori's ex fiance character, it was actually just a rock.

*Tohru is stone cold sober, she just has an IQ of Theodore the Chipmunk. Thinks this is a daily occurrence.

[leechs]

U were a heroin addict? How did you fall in to that? If you don't mind me asking ofc. How did you get sober?

i had a friend from high school who got into it via an older boyfriend so i tried it a few times as a teenager... after dabbling with pills and ketamine and a bunch of other drugs i came across a reliable plug through that same friend and i was able to have a consistent enough supply to become addicted... i went to rehab and sober living in late 2020-early 2021 as a condition of probation because i caught a theft charge(pretrial diversion so i dont have a record luckily) ... i didnt really want to get fully sober but i stopped all street opioids and have been on suboxone ever since

[minefield-of-a-ninja]

28 DAYS: CHAPTER ONE

Summary: Dean Winchester is an addict and an alcoholic, a USMC veteran, a father, and an older brother. As Battalion Chief with Lawrence Fire & Medical, Dean comes under investigation when he makes a dangerous and impulsive decision, defying his superiors and abandoning the team he is supposed to lead. He is given the choice to go to rehab for 28 days, or jail. His lawyer insists on rehab, and Dean begrudgingly abides.

Chapter Characters: Dean Winchester, (mentions) Gordon Walker, Victor Henriksen, Jo Harvelle, Casey (Wood), Sam Winchester

Chapter tags, warnings: sexually explicit, emergency action, fire, drug use, thoughts of death and dying, teen endangerment

Chapter WC: 3k

Author’s notes: Inspired by the film 28 Days and following canon themes from SPN, this is a fic about Dean, a firefighter who goes to rehab, not about Dean as a firefighter. Thank you to my brilliant and insightful focus puller and long-time friend @brrose-apothecary for making that distinction, and many more thanks to her and to @stusbunker for their unending support, readings, and conversations about things that matter.

If I use terminology related to firefighting, drug use, or addiction recovery, I will be sure to define it in the notes.

Triple V = vodka, Valium (diazepam), and Vicodin (hydrocodone)

K = Ketamine

text divider by @talesmaniac89

CHAPTER ONE

Everything’s hot and slick and right on the edge of falling somewhere even hotter. 

Every song is for you, every come hither look and sultry laugh, every praise, invitation, everything worth a fuck is for you.

Hands and lips and tongues, beguiling; teeth and nails, punishing — all the sensations of our earthly bodies are shards of crystal swathed in satin and velvet, tied with pure golden thread.

There’s a lustful cacophony, a symphony surrounding you, everything sounds like fucking, and it sounds like it’s coming from inside of you — like it’s part of you. 

No matter how loud it gets, it’s never too loud. Nothing’s ever too much or enough.

You want more, more, more, fuck yes, more.

“Winchester,” Dean mumbles, squinting at the incoming number and the time. His vision swims from side to side before he figures out that it’s 4:45 AM and the call is from dispatch.

“Chief, we have a conflagration at Midland High School, north on highway 59.”

Dean murmurs a swear as he rolls to his back and drags a hand over his face. 

He was at Gordon’s until 3:30 this morning, when he downed a Triple V and then walked six blocks back to his place to crash. He hasn’t even had time to dream, but his dreams aren’t usually the good kind anyway.

“A’right. Chief Novak in?” He swings his legs over the side of his bed and slumps upright as he slides the drawer to his nightstand open.

“Yes, sir,” replies the dispatcher. “All hands, sir.”

She doesn’t apologize for calling him on his morning off, and she shouldn’t. This isn’t the first time, nor will it be the last time that Dean’s called in on his day off. As Battalion Chief, it’s his duty to lead big jobs like conflagrations.

He’s fucked up, though; his brain isn’t firing on more than one single cylinder at this point, so he’s going to need an extra pick-me-up this morning.

“Thanks, Mia,” he rumbles before disconnecting the call and dropping his phone to his pillow. 

He lifts a small mirror from inside the drawer upon which lies a razor blade, a small amount of white powder, and a short, thin stainless steel tube. Dean deftly cuts two thin lines with the blade and quickly snorts them.

Before running out the door, Dean blasts himself with a 45-second cold shower while brushing his teeth and pockets a small vial of blow for later; there’s no telling how long this’ll last.

Dean and his team pull up to the school amidst a scene of first responders, police, and news crews. His most recent ex... whatever she was to him, Casey Wood, is the reporter closest to them. 

Dean drops from the driver’s side of the truck to his feet and throws her a wink which earns him an eye roll and a cold shoulder. Snapshots of Casey crying, throwing things, and slamming doors whirr through his mind, as he secures his gear.

“Casey, Casey, Casey,” Victor sing-songs as he joins Dean.

They always banter as they gear up, but Dean’s a little more on edge this morning than usual. Casey's name so casually on Victor’s lips raises Dean’s hackles in a way it doesn’t usually. He recognizes it and steels himself to keep up the facade.

“The things that girl can do with her mouth,” Dean says with a wicked smirk.

“Whoa-ho-hoooa!” Victor hoots.

It’s a cheap shot, and Dean knows it. Casey’s fucking smart and tough. She never faked anything in her life, she said what she said, and she loved him, too, if he’d have let her.

“Good morning, misogyny!” Jo hops down next to them, buckling her harness.

Dean feels unreal and unmoored, but they’ve got a job to do. He closes his eyes and breathes, then shrugs out an eye roll. 

“Aww, c’mon, darlin’, I appreciate her skill. That ain’t a hateful thing,” Dean slams the door shut, and Victor snorts beside him. 

Jo glares at him in disbelief. “You’re a fucking pig. Let’s go.” She turns on her heel and slaps her hand against the side of the truck as she walks, hurrying up the other two members of their team.

Dean blinks rapidly. He’s queasy and buzzing. He remembers the vial in his pocket, under layers of uniform and gear, and berates himself for not having better access to it. His mind starts to spin around excuses to stay back and dig it out before Victor claps him on the back.

“You heard the lady, boss.” Victor grins, and Dean flashes a tight smile in response. They’re fully suited up as they jog to catch up with Jo, Zeke, and Nick.

Under lights and camera, Casey tells the story of the day.

“Fire Chief Castiel Novak has informed us that a group of Midland High School boys has admitted to starting the fire,” she reads from the teleprompter to the camera. 

“One of the four arsonists was injured in the blast and is trapped inside the school’s chemistry lab with dangerous chemicals and potentially open bunsen burner outlets,” she continues. “The boy’s cries can be heard through an external window broken for ventilation. The other three boys are currently being examined by paramedics onsite. 

“Just now,” she pauses and motions toward the retreat of Dean’s team, “Battalion Chief Dean Winchester has arrived to lead the rescue team. We’ll provide more details as we receive them.”

Dean’s team is always the same. They know each other like they know their own selves. Some of them have known each other their whole lives, like he and Jo Harvelle. Dean and Victor Henriksen have known each other since middle school. Zeke Gadreel and Nick Iblis served two tours in Iraq together, and no matter how unhealthy or co-dependent their relationship may be to outsiders, Dean’s grateful for their bond.

He talks the way through even if he repeats himself because he needs it to stay grounded, and they need to hear his voice. This is where he shines, leading his team and making them feel safe.

Two corridors over from the lab, he stops.

“A’right, we’re gonna do this clean and sharp. Keep your eyes and ears open and listen to Cas.” He taps the com in his ear as the team triple-checks each other’s rigs. “We know there’s one kid in here, based on testimony from the other little fuckers who started this thing, but let’s not rule anything out.”

He makes eye contact with each and every one of them for final confirmation before he nods one last time and turns toward the worst of the smoke. 

“Like I said, eyes and ears open.” 

When they reach the lab, Dean makes a motion to hold, and his team complies.

“Cas, you there?” he asks.

“Hold in position,” Chief Novak states over the radio. “We’re going to try to cut through the roof for sightlines.”

Dean pulls a glove off to test the heat. “Door’s hot as an oven, Cas, and I can still hear ‘im cryin’ in there. Fuckin’ kid.”

Dean grits his teeth. His daughter Emma just started school at Midland this fall. She’s a freshman. This kid’s probably in her class. 

Not that he’d know; Emma hasn’t talked to Dean in five weeks.

“All stop,” the head chief states with new information.  “Dean, we can’t open the roof.”

“Fuckin’- of course not.” Dean sighs and pulls his glove back on.

“If we get too much oxygen in there before we know what other chemicals we’re dealing with, the explosion will blow the door and the rest of the roof off that lab with you and your team in it.”

Dean nods his head as the chief rattles off everything they all fucking know. He’s about to come out of his skin from the heat and urge to rip the door off the hinges all by himself just to be done with it.

“Right,” he mutters, rolling his neck and picturing the precious, unattainable vial in his pocket.

The boy’s screams roar over the din of the event, and Dean squeezes his eyes shut tight. His mind scrambles around memories of his baby brother crying in his arms as he ran from his home’s blaze more than 35 years ago. He shakes his head to clear it, which only serves to make his stomach lurch.

“Dean? You OK?” Jo asks, concern marring her soft face.

Dean doesn’t answer her. “Has anybody got eyes on the fire line?” he asks, assessing his gear for anything he can unload, anything that might weigh him down.

“Chief,” someone utters, and the uncertain eyes of his team are burning hotter than the fire. Zeke takes a step toward him, and Dean snarls.

Chief Novak’s voice cracks through the com. “Dean, I’m telling you, we couldn’t open the roof the way we opened the hallway. The oxygen will-” 

“Yeah, Cas, I heard ya the first time, and this ain’t my first fuckin’ rodeo.” Dean turns to his crew, dropping rope and gear.

“Dean, y’heard Cas-” Victor reaches for him.

“Get out,” Dean says, and Victor drops his hand and turns to Jo. “I’m goin’ in alone. Now!”

+

“All stop! All stop! All stop!” 

+

An invisible force pushes Dean from behind, and he lands on his shoulder. 

The kid rolls in one direction, and Dean rolls in the opposite. A boom sounds, and the smoke takes on a remarkably orange hue. 

On autopilot and half-conscious, Dean crawls to check the kid’s pulse before a rush of bodies, shouts, and lights knock him out cold.

“Fuck, that’s good, Case.” Dean brushes her hair to the side so he can watch his cock disappear between her stretched lips like a shining piston into a slick cylinder.

Casey hums, slowly bobbing her head, and twisting her fist around his girth. Her other delicate hand rests on Dean’s denim-clad knee as she kneels between his booted feet on her living room rug.

There’s still enough K in his system that every slide of her tongue feels like magic skittering along his dick. He slides a hand into her hair and twists it. 

Twenty minutes ago, Casey tried to slam the door in his face, but not before calling him a liar. He didn’t lie, though. He fully intended to be there for dinner with her parents; he just lost track of time. 

Besides, why in Hell would she want her parents to know she lets him in her house at all, let alone inside her body?

“I’m so sorry, sweet girl,” Dean mutters, gripping the base of his cock and gently lifting her by her chin. “Lemme make it up to you.”

He’s on call starting at 6 AM tomorrow, so it’s good he’s there. Casey won’t let him do anything stupid. Instead, he can sober up and fuck it out, go to the station fresh in the morning.

As he pulls her from the floor to lay her back against her couch cushions, she looks at him like he’s something extraordinary, and his belly flips. 

“You’re too good to me, Case,” he whispers, twisting his body and hers, sliding his hands up under her dress, and wedging his shoulders under her thighs. 

Her eyes soften, and he can’t stand looking into them so deeply. He brushes his thumbs up along the satiny edges of her panties before closing his eyes and dipping in to press kisses to the damp fabric. 

Casey moans, writhing under him with a smile.

She thinks he lied to her, but she still lets him in. Dean doesn’t lie; he just sucks at keeping promises. He’s better at apologizing.

He slips his fingers inside the leg of her panties to lightly knuckle her slit as he reaches around one long lean thigh to lace his other fingers with hers over her smooth belly. When he pulls the fabric of her panties aside to kiss and lick her bare pussy, he groans at her heat and taste.

He wants to dive in and devour her, but this isn’t about what he wants. 

Casey’s free hand lands on the back of Dean’s head, and she rolls her hips up into his face.

“That’s right,” he breathes and slides his tongue down one side and up the other of her clit. “Take what you want, princess.”

“Dean,” she whispers, twisting his hair in her fist. “I just want you...”

Dean wakes up in the hospital. He’s hooked up to machines and bags of fluid. His tongue is stuck to the roof of his mouth and painful when he tries to separate it. He draws a deep breath and immediately hacks, wincing from the pain that radiates from his shoulder, chest, and hips. 

“Fuck,” he groans in a broken whisper.

Dean hates hospitals. No one likes hospitals, but Jesus fucking Christ, Dean’s never had a single positive experience in one. He can’t breathe. It’s all in his head, but that doesn’t make it any easier to try.

“You dislocated your shoulder,” Sam speaks from somewhere in the room. 

Dean freezes and closes his eyes. He doesn’t bother to find his brother by sight. If Sam’s there, this is bad. 

“Broke two ribs and strained your hip. You’re lucky to be alive, and not just because of your injuries.” Sam’s voice draws closer with each word.

“You here to finish me off?” Dean asks, trying for a joke, but he doesn’t have much of a voice. He ends up sounding like he’s choking, which is appropriate.

Sam doesn’t laugh. “I’m here to tell you that you’re done, Dean.”

Dean scoffs, shifting in his bed, increasingly agitated by the tubes and wires attached to him but without the energy or brain space to do anything about them. He clears his throat and swallows. 

“Done with what, exactly?” he asks, finally laying eyes on his brother.

He looks good — healthy and strong. Sad, though. Or maybe he’s mad, Dean can never tell anymore.

“Your bullshit, playboy, disaster of a life,” Sam replies with clear contempt.

Dean stares at him, waiting. He doesn’t have a comeback. He’s out of them. 

Sam starts to pace. “Your team got the fire and hot spots out about eight hours after you collapsed. Cyrus Styne, the 16-year-old kid you went in after, is in critical condition.” 

Sam stops no more than a foot from Dean’s bed, looking him dead in the eye. 

“You tested positive for marijuana, hydrocodone, diazepam, and cocaine, and your blood-alcohol level was .23. That’s almost three times the legal level of intoxication. I don’t even fucking know how you walked into a burning building-”

“Hmm. And did I consent to these tests?” Dean murmurs, derailing the very clear direction Sam was headed with his diatribe. 

For the first time since the last time Dean saw his brother, Sam is obviously confounded by how Dean isn’t dead already — so is Dean. 

Sam scoffs and shakes his head. His gaze is strained, and his jaw is tight. “Dean, I... I can’t get you out of this.” 

Sam has worked magic in the past. One of his greatest efforts was winning joint custody of Emma for Dean. Sam works by the letter of the law, but the best lawyers know how to make the law work for them and their clients.

Dean is suddenly very, very tired. He can’t remember the last time he did anything to make Sam proud. He doesn’t even know if he ever has.

“I need a cigarette,” he mumbles before looking up to study the ceiling.

“Look, the only thing I could do was get them to agree to 28 days in a rehab facility-”

“Ugh, Sammy,” Dean wails, sitting up and immediately tugging at the IVs and monitors. An alarm goes off, and Sam turns his back and moves toward the large window overlooking the parking lot.

Three men rush into the room, two orderlies and a nurse, to restrain Dean. He immediately gives up, feeling wasted, sick, and terrified.

“Your other option is jail,” Sam mutters from the window, and Dean’s stomach drops. His throat convulses as he attempts to swallow back the bile rising in his throat.

The orderlies stand back as the nurse assesses the damage Dean’s done with his little outburst. Dean closes his eyes and breathes as he re-fastens the patches and IVs. 

He won’t cry, he won’t cry, he won’t cry...

“You’re suspended from the department, probably indefinitely,” Sam continues quietly. “I can’t even get Cas on the phone. You endangered the lives of your entire team and everyone onsite. Your team, Dean. Jo. Victor. Casey was there.”

Dean burrows into the thin, lumpy bed, shivering from the feel of needles in his veins and the low vibration of the monitors attached to his chest. He doesn’t see when the nurse and the orderlies leave, but he can feel the shift in the air.

“I know.” 

He doesn’t know any more about the fire than what Sam’s told him, but he damn well knows what an absolute disappointment he is to his little brother. 

“Dean, why-” Sam sighs, sounding as weary and distraught as Dean feels.

Dean is silent as he stares at the ceiling, and Sam doesn’t seem surprised. 

“Forget it.” Sam grabs his jacket from the visiting chair and starts to shrug into it. “As soon as you can be released from here, someone’ll pick you up to transport you to the facility. Text me a list of what you need from your apartment, and I’ll make sure it gets packed.”

Sam draws a final breath before leaving the room, and Dean wills himself to sleep.

Chapter 2

Please let me know what you think!

Series Masterlist

MJ's Masterlist

[cupcraft]

lukeblissfali house md rant in your inbox hope you dont mind ^_^. as much as i love this show it has a kind of biggish issue of just. not having consequences for a lot of stuff. Like houses big hallucination affair. nothing ever came of it. We got a nod to it when wilson tried to gaslight house abt seeing his old team but like that was it. Hes completely unaffected by it. they put so much weight on it in the episode but that was it. in the ONE episode. i wish they would like. stick to it. House’s leg was healed and then 3 episodes later hes back on his vicodin and hes exactly the same as before he was shot. like no growth. no changes. Same thing with the tritter situation. He went to rehab he almost went to jail etc etc but he didnt do anything afterwards. No growth no conseuqnece no big change. the only time theyve done actual consequences well imo is after vogler or whatever left and took his money the hospital is shown to be continuously be looking for funding which makes sense. But thats it!!! So many arcs where house has to do something about his addiction, he heals a little bit, and then everyone forgets about it. obv addition healing isnt one way but the way nobody acknowledges it drives me nuts. Like wheres the lasting damage!!! PLEASEEEE

I do think there is a lot of good focus of when House relapses after his ketamine treatment, however there are a lot of arcs I wish had more care. I also think especially not from House, but from the others. I really wish people gained more understanding into House's addiction & disability & there was more impact to his several mental health crises. As much as i was like helpme what the fuck for scenes like the knife in wall socket scene, it's more treated like a gag by the narrative and not like huh wow this guy is not doing well mentally that he wanted to experience a death experience again for fun. I do wish there was more of a narrative focus on this.