Citation: Xepsilon. "The Binge of Hell: An Experience with Alcohol - Hard (exp14647)". Erowid.org. Apr 1, 2006. erowid.org/exp/14647
A few months back, I was curious about the effects of alcohol. A couple of nights before the night in question, I had tried three shots of brandy and a bowl of pot, and it felt like a pretty good combination, but I didn't feel very much alcohol effect, so I decided to try some more in the near future. So in the night in question, I decided to drink six shots of Jack Daniel's Whiskey. Not knowing much about how much alcohol that contains or BAC levels, I just drank them all in a short period of time (~10-15 mins.) Afterwards, I felt pretty damn wasted. I had a really hard time walking. I went outside to smoke a bowl and afterwards I knew I was feeling really good. Afterwards, I made a really stupid mistake: taken from my experience with pot, I decided that 'more can always make it even better,' so I got another shot of whiskey and after that I went to smoke another bowl. That's the very last thing I remember.
The next thing I know, I'm dreaming and then I see the hospital. What I can't really explain is that my thoughts were at the time 'Oh no, not the hospital dream again!' As I awaken, a nurse tells me that I drank too much and that's why I was there. My dad was right in front of me. They checked to make sure I understood where I was and everything. They told me they had made me drink charcoal and had pumped my stomach. They removed an IV from my arm (for fluids) and gave me my clothes. I got dressed and went to a nearby bathroom to take a piss; urination was extremely painful (apparently they stuck a catheter in my urethra), so it took me a while. The nurse knocked and made sure I was alright... When I got out, I was greeted with a wheelchair. I sat down and was quickly rushed out of the hospital into my dad's car. I had a friendly conversation with the nurse along the way.
My dad told me he had found me in my room around 3:30am; I had started drinking at 1am. He told me I was completely passed out next to a puddle of vomit and there was a pile of clothes on me. I was in some strange position under a chair and it appeared I had trouble breathing. He had thought I was dying of some drug overdose or something, as he
knew I smoked pot, so he assumed I had gotten into hard drugs or something. I felt like complete shit; horrible headache, fatigue, and absolutely no motivation. It was 9:30am when I got back home; I had been in the hospital for nearly 6 hours! Fortunately, I wasn't awake for any of the painful procedures. I went to sleep immediately when I got home and woke up around 2pm. I tried to eat some cereal, but I had absolutely no appetite, so I went back to sleep. I woke up again at 6pm, and after finding that there was absolutely nothing to do, I went back to sleep. Finally, at 9pm I woke up to converse with some people, watch some TV, and eat some food. I didn't eat much and shortly afterwards went to sleep.
My next day was still completely hungover. My dad took a day off work to take me to San Francisco and have a 'father-son' day with me. It was a pretty enjoyable day, but sometime in the early afternoon I began experiencing what seemed to be seizures. Earlier in the day, I had experienced some pretty annoying jaw clenching, but I disregarded it. What I later experienced was loss of muscle control; my muscles began completely tensing up and I couldn't keep my head straight, it would just start turning tothe left and I couldn't keep it in any other position. My body was shaking. We phoned a doctor friend who told me to take some Benadryl, which fixed everything. He told me I was experiencing this due to a severe alcohol intoxication. My BAC was .3%! I still had urination pain, but after I smoked my last bowl of pot the pain subsided and was pretty much gone after that.
I learned later that I didn't immediately pass out. Apparently, I had also vomited outside and then for some reason I got a piece of cheese out of the kitchen and brought it into my room. I remember absolutely none of this, though. I also found som
packaging material for electrodes and such lying around from the paramedics who came and rescued me. I think I lost my favourite glass pot pipe in the ambulance as it was in my jacket and I couldn't find it after the whole incident. I don't know if I'm ever going to try alcohol again, but if I am, it will be amongst friends and I will have to excercise extreme caution, especially since I have a pretty low body mass. I found that the extreme state of depression I had after alcohol wore off after about a week and I was in much better spirits, despite the horror of what had happened.
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