Citation: BB516. "My Brain Warned Me: An Experience with Cannabis (exp112947)". Erowid.org. Apr 25, 2019. erowid.org/exp/112947
It's been a year since I started smoking weed constantly, but even so, I'm the kind of person who gets stoned instantly and even with a very small amount of weed. I used to smoke once in two weeks, but now I smoke maybe 2 times a week, as an average.
Now I’ve had some bad times with weed: I used it in combination with alcohol, and that resulted in me vomiting, but those were easy to handle. I never used to think about bad things when high, I only liked to eat, laugh, dance, make fun of things, etc., until i got more into it (last 2-3 months).
As I said, I started smoking more and more, I even got to smoke 6 days in a week from time to time. As I see it, the days before the bad trip happened were very significant for the outcome. First day, some of my friends and I went to a party in my hometown, we got high on DXM and weed and had a very good time. Second day we went to another party, a huge one this time, where I smoked a blunt, then got about 80-100mg of MDMA. I experienced the best time on MDMA, absolutely loved it, I discovered new dance moves I wasn’t even aware I could do, had a great time chatting with other people, in other words, a great time. Got back to my dorm room, we smoked another blunt (after 12 hours of partying), danced for another 3 hours then fell asleep. (I find this day very important because it was the first memorable experience with MDMA for me, and enjoying it so much made me think.) Next 2 days we smoked 2 blunts/day (from 9pm to let’s say 2-3am).
It was in the fifth day that the terrible experience happened. I was in my dorm room with one of my roommates and we thought we could have a joint. Said and done, problem was that neither of us wanted to smoke too much because we had to wake up early the next day, so we used a very small amount of weed, much less than a gram, say .25 of a gram (and even that might be more than we actually used). I even was worried it would not be enough for us to get a good high time. I danced for about 15 minutes, sat down to get a sip of water and it all started: my friend started playing skyrim, and I felt some weird thoughts about me, about the way I live my life and stuff. Tried really hard to make them stop, and actually made them stop for about 5 minutes, then they returned. I’d like to describe them very carefully and thoroughly. We use to listen to minimal/dark techno while high, and this kind of music made my thoughts fragmented, like I could use 1 word every two seconds, even though, somewhere deeper, I could understand the fragmented sentence way before finishing it in my mind. Sounds kinda crazy, I hope you understand it by the way I tried to explain. I could hear sirens outside, probably from an ambulance, but I got paranoid and thought that someday I will get caught doing drugs, or already under their influence, I could hear steps outside my room (just my floor colleagues), and thought that police could come any minute. I wasn’t aware of my room, or my roommate, I had my eyes wide open but my mind ignored the environment, and all I could see was myself getting high on cocaine, pills in high doses at raves, I imagined ugly people around me at those parties making me use more and more drugs. My brain made me see myself as a drug abuser.
I know I couldn’t stop the thoughts so I decided to wait for one or two hours for them to pass. „How hard could it be?” I thought. Then I remembered that I even drove while high a few times, so my mind told me that I could do even worse stuff. Then I thought about my family, and the money my parents give me to support me with my studies (I’m 3rd year in medicine), and the way I spend them. I was completely disappointed in myself.
Then I started being aware that a song felt like playing for 1 full hour, though the song was only 11 minutes long. I felt crushed by the feeling, had palpitations, felt like I’m being eaten from inside by the way I was living my life, by drugs, by mistakes. My roommate was not aware of my panic attack
My roommate was not aware of my panic attack
, he was as high as me only he didn’t trip like this. Again I imagined myself getting arrested by the police, convicted, in prison, my parents disappointed and dumbfounded by my actions. I felt alone, scared, unable to speak. I realized I never tripped while my best friend was around but this time he wasn’t.
Unavoidably, I thought that this could go forever, that I might not escape this loop and the only way I could handle the situation was a discussion between “the good me” and “the bad me”, and it went like this: the good me was trying to give me good arguments that I am a good person, I study hard for exams, I don’t do much drugs anyways so why panic, that my family is happy about me, about my grades and knowledge, about me as a person. The good me also told me that this was only a slippage, and it won’t happen again, and from now on I should smoke less and everything will be all right. The bad me found arguments for any statement the good me said, like “how can you be a good person if you get stoned up to this point?”, “You study hard now but look, getting high like this will surely make your progress stop”, “You don’t do much drugs anyways? It’s the 5th day in a row, and also the 3rd substance you used. Now you see?”, “When the police finds you, how happy will your family be?”, “But you liked that rave so much, and you like weed, how will you stop? You will slip again in this loop, don’t try to deny it!”.
After the weird dialogue between the two parts of me, I realized how careless I’ve become, driving while high, that I talk more and more about drugs, that I have a susceptibility for liking vices so easily (I smoke and I used to drink a lot of alcohol until 4 or 5 months ago), that I can’t even quit smoking which isn’t all that hard, so I will get even more careless and I *WILL* go to prison soon.
That made me feel even worse, and by this time I felt like vomiting, so I told my roommate to talk to me. He was unable to talk himself, but tried to talk to me for a while. I told him I wasn’t all right and that he should bring me the bucket because I will surely vomit. He did bring me the bucket, I puked some water, and then felt a little better. I changed the music to something else, and instantly felt like my body was easy, also my head was easy too. The 2nd roommate appeared (one of my best friends of all time, also one of the best trip sitters I know) so I started coming back to life, to normal me. I was still high or something, we played some League and then went to sleep. Everything felt like 5 hours of tripping while actually it only happened for about 1 hour and a half.
Next day I felt like my brain was fried, had 500ms lag when talking or observing anything around me. I went on a walk with a girl that I knew would help my thinking process, and then I was completely normal again.
This was the most frightening experience I’ve ever lived, but since then I always have 30 minutes of mild paranoia every time I smoke (no more than a weird feeling of being watched and that the situation might go bad sometime). Really hope you guys stay safe and avoid thinking loops like this.
Words cannot describe what I felt. I’m planning to think constructively and not take this as a punishment but as an enlightenment, as an experience that made me wiser, more aware of the damaging effects of long time drug use.
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