Citation: jaggerjack. "The Joys of Family: An Experience with Various (ID 90027)". Erowid.org. May 1, 2011. erowid.org/exp/90027
I was 17 and had been smoking weed for a month before I told my parents. I really had no need but decided that telling them before I got caught, and it was inevitable, was better than getting caught and dealing with it then. First was my dad. I knew he used to do drugs, a lot of drugs. He had done Cocaine for five years during the seventies or eighties. He always told me he was never addicted and constantly unsatisfied by it. He bought weed in 1/4 lb or greater increments because he liked the weed but not the dealer. I knew that when I was born he threw out 4 oz of weed he had in the basement, because my mom asked him to stop. He had told me the best thing he had ever done was smoking opium. Considering our open relationship, his drug use, and his parenting philosophy that yes is the default answer, I figured that this would go relatively well. I mean the man let me drink in the house as long as I didnít have any homework to do.
I subtly brought up the topic of pipes, mentioned that I had one and showed it to him. He told me I was silly for wasting so much money. We talked about smoking for a little bit, he told me that I should cut back when school started back up. I agreed. He told me that as long as I was safe and didnít drive a night that I had smoked he was perfectly fine with what I was doing. I found a scholarly article stating that driving under the influence of marijuana is better than having a 0.08 BAC, we agreed that I could drive three hours after I last smoked during a night. I was happy with the arrangement and even happier that I could talk to my dad about my drug use if I ever needed to. We ended our conversation on a less positive note; he told me I should tell my mom.
Itís not that I like my mom less, itís just that she is generally less open to stuff like this, things with perceived danger, like you know, illegal narcotics. I figured the conversation would read somewhat like this:
[The setting is dark, slow and somber music is playing in the background. A boy and his mother are sitting at the kitchen table. The boy timidly speaks up.]
Me: Hey mom, I, um, smoke weed from time to time. I, um, just wanted to let you know. Donít worry about it. Iíll be fine.
Mom (screaming): This will not be tolerated in this household! Youíre grounded.
Well it didnít go like that, instead it went like this:
[The setting is dark, radio station music is playing in the background. A boy, his sister, and his mother are in a car, midway though a six hour journey to grandmaís house. The boy timidly speaks up.]
Me: Hey mom, I, um, you know I smoke right?
Mom: No, I didnítÖ
The rest of the car ride is silent.
You may ask, what the fuck was I thinking? I really donít know. I donít know why I decided that telling my mom I smoked weed, on a long car trip was a good idea, but I did. Weight off my shoulders. Somewhere I slipped in a ďno matter what you say Iím going to still do itĒ clause. Iím not sure where exactly, but it wasnít just a confession, it was an ultimatum.
Just because I had laid down an ultimatum, didnít mean I was off scot free. We had a big talk about drugs in general. I told them what I would consider doing and what I wouldnít consider doing (Would: All psychedelics, Wouldnít: Everything addictive), we decided on a level of acceptable drug use once school started (once a week, Iíve pretty much kept to that), and we talked about safety (donít deal; donít drive; my dad told me to smoke in the house since that was safest, I declined but accepted his offer to allow me to smoke in the garage)
Since then Iíve discussed drugs with them on many an occasion. Here are a few that stand out.
Lying, not drug use is why youíre grounded:
I told my mom I didnít know what I was doing that night, when I did. I was planning on smoking with a few of my sister's friends. My sister wasnít at all happy with this; sheís a bit emotionally sensitive and really doesnít like drugs. She thinks theyíre inherently evil, yet I had been invited to come smoke with a few of her friends and I decided to, I promised her it would be the first and last time (there was one more occasion, but other than that I kept true to that promise). So I smoked with her friends and came back home, happily high, to a sad sister and a mad mother. I was grounded. I had infringed on my sisters property, those friends were hers, not mine. I was grounded for only two days. It wasnít bad. I didnít care. But I had hurt my sister because I wanted to get smoked up. The pain I caused her wasnít worth it.
I thought you were smoking crack:
After I got grounded my parents were a bit harsher on me coming home exactly at midnight. I argued with them and they allowed me to be outside, on our property, after midnight. Basically I could smoke weed in my yard after midnight. I came home from a music festival, checked in with my mom, and went outside to smoke with two friends. 30 later my mom comes out frantic and crazed, telling me I have to be inside in 20 minutes with my friends gone. I didnít know what I had done wrong but the next day she admitted that she freaked out when she couldnít reach me on my phone which I left in my room. She broke down crying and confessed that she thought I was smoking crack or something like that. I assured her I wouldnít be doing Ďcrack or something like that.í
Is it safe - (1) - Laughing gas:
For some odd reason I was given a credit card. Iím not really sure why, but this credit card opened up an entire world of drugs for me. I did nitrous at a music festival and decided I wanted to buy some. I had heard of whippets and pretty quickly found a site to order them from. I talked to my dad about it and he asked me, ďIs it safe,Ē I did some research and told him it was. He was fine with it, my mom put up with it.
Is it safe - (2) - RCs and chemistry teachers:
For some reason a friend and I decided to approach a chemistry teacher of ours and ask him if he would help us synthesize 2C-E. He said no and oddly left it at that. So we put it at the back of our minds and went on our daily lives until parent teacher conferences when he told my parents. My momís response was along the lines of ďWhy the fuck would you do that?Ē but without the fuck because she doesnít swear. If you leave the fuck in you get an idea of the tone. She was confused and annoyed. My dad sat me down and told me to not mess around with synthetics. That was the same as his response when I told him I attempted to buy some 2C-E online. The safety profile of them is relatively unknown so he wanted me to stay away from them. A few months after this I did order some RCs, 4-ACO-DMT and 2C-I, without them knowing, which was odd since they didnít question me about the $100 dollar charge to AlertPay, or they havenít yet. Time will tell.
Is it safe - (3) - Can you do it safely:
I ordered some Mimosa bark, planning on extracting it. My dad is a scientist so I approached him about the extraction process. I decided that it would be better that I told him now than having to hide the damn thing and do it at three in the morning. He asked a question, I bet you can guess what it is at this point, ďIs DMT safe? Can you extract it safely?Ē The answer to both of these questions was yes so he let me do it. He did make me write up a task safety analysis and a detailed lab procedure, but that wasnít in any way bad. He even brought home glassware and a hot plate for me to use.
Is it safe - (4) - Driving to pick up drugs and I talked to a doctor:
I asked my dad to borrow the car. I was going to buy shrooms in the big city 30 minutes away from where I live. He asked what I needed it for and I evaded, saying I was just going to drive around with a friend for a while. He told me that he was uncomfortable with me driving around to buy drugs. I balked. He also let me know that it was a really bad idea to drive around with weed in the car. That left me no option; I had to tell him it was shrooms. He was oddly alright with this, because in his opinion shrooms were less watched than weed and they donít make a car smell. He still wasnít happy that I was driving to pick up drugs, but it wasnít because I was doing shrooms, it was because I would be in significant legal danger. He made sure I called him once I picked the stuff up and then again when I got home, as he was going out for the night.
I called once I got home and he told me that a doctor at the party he was at said that both DMT and shrooms are safe. Later that night as I was coming down from shrooms he came up and talked to me about nothing in particular, it was enjoyable knowing that he accepted me no matter what drug I did.
Drugs havenít had a serious impact on my family life. Through moderation and honesty I can experience the positives of both sides. What Iíve learned about my family because I do drugs boils down to this: both of my parents care a ton about my safety and worry a lot about me. The only negative thing is that my parents sometimes assume Iím doing drugs when Iím not, which is irksome. So does my sister. Alas, it could be worse.
I do wish my dad would try shrooms with me, something he said heís unwilling to do because if he does it that means he condones my behavior. Maybe once Iím out of the house he will reconsider.
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