Addicts say prescription opioids sold by gamblers, cancer patients

Two former Tasmanian opioid addict says morphine drug culture exists unchecked in Tasmania, with painkiller addictions often starting when individuals sell their prescriptions to others.

Liam* is recovering from his years-long addiction after seeking help in 2021, and said it began with a chronic pain sufferer freely handing out medications to family and friends.

From there his addiction quickly took hold.

"I would sell TV's, steal anything I could, just to get bottles of cough medicines with codeine, and it would be mixed with other over the counter pharmaceuticals, so I was looking for inventive ways to get high," Liam said.

"Eventually codeine was completely banned without prescription. At that point I made a conscious decision to just jump from codeine to morphine, simply because it was easier to obtain and the high was much greater," he said.

"During that time though, you'd be battling withdrawals, so you'd chase whatever you could to stop them - methadone, oxycodone, fentanyl - all the different pharmaceutical grade opioids."

Six years ago Tasmania had the highest rate of opioid dispensing across Australia.

In the latest wastewater drug monitoring report from 2021, the state was shown to have the highest consumption of oxycodone and fentanyl than anywhere else.

At the same time, the number of Tasmanians dying from opioid prescriptions is on the rise.

Last year the Coroner reported on two unintentional deaths from prescribed opioids, including the death of a Launceston woman who was "gifted" liquid morphine by her friend.

Access to these potentially fatal drugs comes in many forms.

Liam said the drugs were found through various means, including cancer patients selling unwanted medications, and networking with other drug addicts.

He said morphine culture is "really quite massive", where pharmaceutical drugs are "used and abused", and drug circles exist to assist users to get what they need.

"It is a large problem. I would run into people who I was affiliated with all the time whom I had met through different groups in the community, meeting them outside of houses that I knew were hot spots for dealers," he said.

"We used to have someone who would drop off pharmaceutical goods from the hospital bins where discarded medications are placed. You could get half vials of different opioids, benzodiazepines or amphetamines."

Liam said he saw people from all walks of life, of all ages, who were impacted by opioid addiction.

He said it was very easy to misuse prescription medication, especially when pain is involved.

"I know people aged 18 and those aged into their late sixties who are impacted, including individuals who came out of surgery who were dealing with pain and then becoming dependent," he said.

"Everyone's story is different."

Tasmanian woman Melinda*, fell into opioid use by taking a former partner's medication.

This was a decision that eventually led to sex work, a job which she said she enjoyed, and a $1000 a day, intravenous opioid addiction.

Melinda has had multiple attempts at ending her life.

She said addiction services are sparse and unreliable in Tasmania, and the stigma and discrimination surrounding IV drug users made it personally difficult for her to seek help.

Melinda said she knew of people getting prescriptions from their GPs for the specific purpose of selling them on the black market.

She said they would sell them for hundreds of dollars more than what they legally paid, with the money used to fund gambling habits.

"I knew a guy who sold his script each month, he preferred the money than the drugs. I offered him a little bit more than the other person he was selling to, and that was my in to get someone else's script," Melinda said.

"It's amazing how many people are willing to sell you their scripts."

Eventually Melinda sought her own prescription from a GP, which she used to fuel her addiction in addition to purchasing off the black market.

"Most people don't crush and snort, they don't buy pills on the black market, but it was normalised...there was a group of four or five of us who did it as a regular social thing," she said.

"They were privileged, middle-class drug users.

"When it started creeping into other parts of life, when I was snorting drugs at work, that is when it wasn't okay anymore."

Melinda said a recovery relapse saw her start to take drugs intravenously, and this was the beginning of a longer road for the recovering addict.

"When I started injecting I had this internal dialogue that this was the end of the road for me. Society had kind of told me, you've stuck a needle in you're arm and now you're f**ked.

"It was that stigma that perpetuated my addiction. If there was a more welcoming way for people to get help, then they might seek it."

In addition to social stigma, Melinda said the drug services are inadequate in Tasmania and more are needed.

"You can go to the needle and syringe program, get clean equipment, a bit of education behind the desk and then you leave. There is no wrap around services or care in the one spot," she said.

"Services are very fragmented and siloed in Tasmania. This is not an ideal model for drug users, or for drug user health."

Melinda said she would like to see non-faith based recovery services in Tasmania, like that found across the rest of Australia.

"Whilst the government is not doing what they should be for drug services someone has to pick up the slack, and it is the faith-based organisations who step in," she said.

"I don't believe I would have used for as long as I did if I found a community of people who understood how I felt, who weren't throwing stigma my way. I would have been more likely to ask for help and support if that kind of support had been around."

Liam said he got help after the loss of many jobs, multiple hospitalisations, too many bad decisions, and the loss of friends to overdose.

"We would overdose on purpose under the guise it was a high. In fact we would just be unconscious for 12 hours at a time," Liam said.

"You'd ride a very fine line between severe overdose and a high. In those cases, you don't really have regard for yourself," he said.

"I was absolutely knocking on death's door for a moment there, it was time for change."

Now Liam wants to help others escape the throes of opioid addiction.

"Prescription misuse is definitely a social issue, as is addiction culture itself," he said.

"It definitely does not get enough support in Tasmania, and does not get talked about openly in society. Any way we can talk about it to raise awareness will be beneficial."

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