DOSE:		oral	Cannabis - High THC	(edible / food)
		oral	Cannabis - High CBD	(pill / tablet)
		oral	Cannabis	(tincture)

BODY WEIGHT:

135 lb

[Erowid Note: The dose described in this report is very high, potentially beyond Erowid's 'heavy' range, and could pose serious health risks or result in unwanted, extreme effects. Sometimes extremely high doses reported are errors rather than actual doses used.]
THC edible (80-100mg), CBD tablets (40mg) & an oil tincture (60-80mg) [shroom effect]

My unintentional overdose on psychoactive drugs that led to my mental breakdown and total loss of self and reality: Free writing a day after.

It started with a burning in my palms that travelled through my veins into my stomach. A brief stint with euphoria that quickly manifested into a total loss of my sanity. I naturally think to put myself in bed. I’m going to ride this out, whatever this is. I’m sinking, waves are swelling and crashing, swelling and crashing. The background noise is so loud my thoughts have to scream over the sound. I feel like I’ve been here before. I’ve been here before. I’ve been here before. Every time I close my eyes I’m travelling deeper into a tunnel that I know I’ve seen before. I try to keep my eyes open, it’s too familiar. I don’t know why but I feel like if I close my eyes for too long it will overwhelm me. It overwhelms me anyway. I start to think “I’m dying.” I am the consciousness. I’m in a coma in the real world and people are calling to me to wake up. I don’t know how. How do I wake up?

I’m panicking. I swim in my bed trying to find my phone. Trying to find a way out, a way to tell the outside world that I need help. I need someone to tell me I’m real. I open the drawer to my side table and have this awful realization that this is it, this is the moment. I’m about to die. I’m about to die and I need to choose what to die with. What thought to die with. I’m looking into this drawer filled with my life. Choose something. Choose anything. No, not anything. “Can you live in that book you’re reading for the rest of your afterlife.” That’s where my head is at. My dying thought will be my reality in the afterlife. What can I ‘live’ with. Nothing in this drawer.

My life can’t be over yet. I fall unto the floor. I’m on my stomach dragging myself out of my room, inch by inch like an ant through honey and all I can think is “go towards the light, go towards it now, now, now, now, go now” and all these voices are screaming at me through the crashing of waves, swelling and crashing, swelling and crashing “remember your training” swelling and crashing “this is why we’ve been conditioned to always have our phones near, THIS is why, we all slip below the surface” swelling and crashing, I’ve slipped and I can’t remember my training, “who do I call? Who is it. Who is your person?” Why can’t I think of a single name. Why don’t I have a person. I can’t find my phone. I can’t think. My body is drying out. I need water. I’m dying I’m dying I’m dying, I don’t want to die, I don’t want to die.

I’m in the sun room. How did I get here. How long has it been. Maybe if I go through the motions this will pass. This isn’t real. I need to feel something else. I need normal. What did normal feel like? I pick up the remote and I hit Netflix. The first thing I see is “GET OUT” and I’m sinking again. Swelling and crashing, swelling and crashing. Am I overdosing? Is this an overdose? I can’t exist like this, feeling this way. Someone help me feel the way I did before. It’s like I’m in the Matrix. Some version of it. Have I already woken up? Is this room my entire existence now? Has it always been? I don’t want it to be, I need to wake up or perhaps go back to sleep? Throw yourself off the balcony. You’ll wake before you hit. You’re dreaming. Earlier you must have closed your eyes for too long, this can’t be real. Just wake up. Just wake up. Just wake up. But I can’t. I’m in my computer chair. How did I get here? Tell someone. Get someone here immediately. Tell them your address. It doesn’t matter who comes but someone needs to come. “[address] kick the door in I need help.” The phone rings. I’m spinning. Where is it. Hello? Did I say that? “Open your door. They’re waiting. I’ve been here before too” Am I talking to myself? “But I can’t, the hallway is dark, they’re going to take me away from the light and I’m not ready”

Swelling and crashing. I can’t hear anything over the sound of the ocean waves breaking. I’m lifted and put in a chair. Someone pricks my finger. There are so many people around me. How did I get here? Someone is trying to close my robe. They’re concerned that I’m showing too much. “I don’t care about that, someone tell me this is real” Why is no one telling me I’m real. Someone talk to me, look me in the eyes. It’s like they’re talking to me through deep water. I can’t hear you. Everything goes dark and I’m sinking further. I’m on the floor of the bathroom. The light is off and I’m vomiting. Endlessly vomiting, but nothing is coming up. Why won’t this end. I’ve been here so many times before. How long has it been this time? There are too many voices and I’m afraid to open the door to see who they belong to. Maybe they’re in my head and nobody came. I’m going to stay here until they fade, or until they leave? This is my safe space. Isolate. Protect. Isolate. Reject. No. No no no no. This can’t be it either. I won’t let this be my afterlife: puking into the darkness forever. This is a fucking nightmare. I’m going to open this door and face the voices, it has to be better than this.

Open the door. Open the door. Open the door Vanessa. Open the fucking door. OPEN. IT.

Exp Year: 2019	ExpID: 113265
Gender: Female
Age at time of experience: 29
Published: Aug 11, 2020	Views: 580
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Cannabis (1) : Overdose (29), Poetry (43), Bad Trips (6), Difficult Experiences (5), Alone (16)