Citation: goatee92. "The Quickest Way to Kill My Brain: An Experience with Gasoline (exp19804)". Erowid.org. Jul 3, 2005. erowid.org/exp/19804
Our understanding of the literature is that there is no such thing as safe recreational use of volatile solvents, aerosols and other street inhalants : their psychoactive effects are inseparable from nerve and organ damage. We have chosen to include these reports to help document the real world use of inhalants, but their inclusion is not intended to imply that they are anything but dangerous.]
Inhalants sounded like fun (and as it turned out, they can be). I was staying up late the night before I was going to have my wisdom teeth removed. I had been having to stay up late to sneak out and smoke a cigarette, as my family does not approve. I was looking forward to trying Vicodin in the days following my surgery, but that's not important for this story. I was looking to take the edge off, so I had indulged in some tequila and cranberry juice (just enough to be pleasantly drunk).
I had tried huffing gas for the first time the previous day. It was interesting, I got the echoing effect, and of course it wore off quickly. Tonight, I was bored and anticipating insomnia, so I went and got the bag of gas from the night before. I started breathing in the fumes slowly (for those of you who don't know, I can't just take a big whiff and expect it to work, I actually had to keep your head in the paper bag and breath in and out several times). I got the same effects as before, but for some reason I wasn't satisfied. A few minutes later I did it again. This time, I began to notice how *easy* it is to just keep breathing.
There is not a lot of coughing or discomfort involved, so I prolonged by huffing.
I was beginning to feel scared, but a few minutes later I wanted to do it some more. I went into the kitchen, figuring I might spontaneously throw up or something. I just stood there huffing away; my knees shook a little, but I didn't feel loss of my motor skills. This is where it gets bad...
Seeing as how easy it is to just keep inhaling, danger becomes quick and obvious. Even as I stood there thinking to myself 'if I keep going, I'm going to die,' I did not feel any insistent urge to cease. Talk about impaired judgment. I eventually let go and fell on the floor purposely. I layed there feeling guilty and foolish. Though I didn't get any cosmic lights or life-flashing-before-my-eyes, I knew I had stared death in the face.
Granted, I'm hopeful that not many people die from inhaling gasoline, however, I'm almost positive that if I had kept going, I would have suffered permanent brain damage. Needless to say, I stepped outside to have another cigarette. I was so distressed I could barely sleep, and I still felt like I was missing several brain cells when I woke up the next morning. Luckily, I think my faculties are still all in order. I am never trying that again...
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