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I Just Came Out of My Body
Cannabis
by haymeadow
Citation:   haymeadow. "I Just Came Out of My Body: An Experience with Cannabis (exp91365)". Erowid.org. May 18, 2021. erowid.org/exp/91365

 
DOSE:
5 hits smoked Cannabis

BODY WEIGHT: 95 lb


A True Out of Body Experience

“Ready to go?” C asked as nonchalantly as possible.

I climbed into the passenger seat and the overwhelming scent of a certain green plant filled my nose, a scent I wasn’t that familiar with, but one I wasn’t a complete stranger to either. I found it pleasant and sweet, and enjoyed being in its proximity. I still eyed C, a boy I'd recently begun talking to with suspicion, ever ignorant of the fact that only a couple of months from now, he and I would be quaking with fear at the flashing blue lights in his rear-view mirror. Terrified at his being nearly arrested for paraphernalia possession, not for possession of weed, mind you, but because by sheer luck and ambition, we would blaze all of it down the drain.

Down the road a little way, I gathered the courage to ask C about pot.
“Do I smoke a lot? Well that depends on what you think is a lot…”
“What like everyday!?”
He peered over at me in the dark, unsure, and shrugged his shoulders.
“Oh my god! That’s ridiculous!”
“Well, not really.” He paused. “Actually…I have a little if you--”
“Okay.” I cut him off. So simple. It was just okay.

He looked at me, surprised by my certitude, smiled dangerously and said, “Okay, then we’re gonna take a little ride.” I couldn’t hold back the smile from curling on my face. I was shy and tentative, I knew that this was wrong. Drugs are bad. They are illegal, so what was I doing? C opened the lid of the compartment in between our seats, and pulled out a strange looking instrument. It looked menacing, the shine from the street lamps reflected off of its twisted, glass body. It was painted black with flecks of red underneath its protective shield, like a long-bodied Goliath beetle. This treacherously bizarre device was gleaming in his hand. And yet, in some ways, it looked completely seductive.

He took out a plastic bag containing the herb and asked me if I’d ever seen it. Slightly embarrassed, I replied that I hadn’t. He took a small amount and stuffed it into the circular crater at the bottom of the device. Making sure I was watching, he took a lighter, and held it over the bowl. He inhaled and uncovered the small hole near the bowl, effortlessly sucking the smoke up into his mouth. He let go and a hazy gray vapor swirled around him, framed his face, maneuvered through his body, and then disappeared out the window with his worries. I can’t lie, he did look exceptionally cool and worldly while smoking.

I, on the other hand, did not look so cool while coughing up a lung. Tears poured down my burning cheeks, and my entire chest hurt. I was coughing so violently, that C suggested we use something else: a bong. He reached behind his seat and pulled out another obscure contraption that I‘d never seen before. It was like a crooked test tube from an alchemists lab, but instead of bubbling with colorful tinctures and potions, there was about an inch of brown water standing at the bottom. Excitement seized my better judgment, and I hit that bong three times, after learning how to properly inhale. Like a busted vacuum, I sucked in the smoke and sputtered it back out in between gasps for untainted air. We continued to drive and at first, I felt nothing.

C was beginning to strike me as kind, almost gentleman-like, in contrast to his vehement outbursts of the political wrongs of society and his constant swearing. He had been nothing but considerate and understanding of me; he expressed his more then surface feelings for me, and even though I had said nothing, he was still being so nice. He also didn’t make fun of the fact that I’d never smoked pot before, or even come close to. Although, I was beginning to feel a little anxious. My head felt slightly fuzzy, and the surrounding street stood out in a sharp contrast. It was subtle but it was there. I wasn’t sure what was to happen or what would happen to my insides. I hoped for the best, that I would simply feel relaxed and mellow as C had said, so I gathered myself and listened intently to the words he was spouting.

He was explaining to me what one of his friend’s did for work. The only reason I know this now is because days later, he informed me. I simply hadn‘t been able to remember. If it wasn’t for him, I would have no idea what had occurred before I completely lost control of the world and of reality.

“B works in a restaurant too. You might know it? He’s a prep cook…”

Without warning, my surroundings melted and distorted into a place I never want to go to again. I opened my eyes and saw the world for the first time and what I felt would be the last. Everything was in constant motion, the inside of the car, the outdoors, even the air I was breathing. This new world, was tinged blood-red, blurry, and a jumble of confusion, as if I was seeing through the plastic lens of 3D glasses. The bewilderment of my surroundings was nothing compared to the overwhelming fear that gripped my heart. With my eyes bulging out of my skull, my mouth agape in horror, I looked at C. He had a finger raised in the air and was turned towards me, repeating the word, that horrible, awful word, “prep cook” over and over like a broken record. I was beyond hopelessly terrified. I would be stuck in this world that didn’t make sense, that had no point or clear focus, forever and there was no way out. And just like that, I left my body. I felt my soul rise up and hover into the back seat, then above my body again. The person below me, the soul-less form that I called myself, threw its arms into the air, waved them around in desperation, and shrieked. I was a ghost, crying out in that world of lost souls. I closed my eyes for the last time. When I opened them again, I found myself screaming into the night, into the closed quarters of Casey’s truck. Instinctively, I seized his hand and held onto it tight. I had completely forgotten that we were driving.

“What’s wrong are you alright!?” He looked at me in serious concern.
“What was that, what just happened!?” I was still half screaming.
The overwhelming fear was still locked in my chest, alongside my beating heart that felt like it was about to go off like a bomb. I tried to explain what had just happened but I was unable to grasp any thought for longer than a few seconds.
“I just came out of my body! My mind floated into the backseat!”
“What!? Okay… that all seemed to happen when I said prep--”

“NO! DON’T SAY THAT WORD, PLEASE!” In my fractured state of mind I felt that the last word I heard C speak, “prep cook”, was what triggered my descent into a another world. Although I was unsure, I had expected nothing of major occurrence while smoking weed from the way C had described it. But what I was experiencing then was beyond anything I could have ever imagined.

I felt as if I was in a state between conscious and losing my hold on reality. I struggled to listen and to understand what C was saying to try to comfort me. I fought with my mind for a good hour, feeling as if I was on the brink of descending into total unawareness. Every few seconds C would say something and I would completely blank out on the conversation, as if I had a serious case of amnesia. For the majority of the night I would continually forget where I was and what was going on. As the night wore on however, the effects began to decrease in intensity. The feeling that I would be stuck in this perpetually high state began to subside, and I felt myself, very slowly, returning back to earth. I thought my crazy experience was over, but sure enough, I was wrong.

As C and I drove through a heavily wooded area, I looked out the window and couldn’t believe my eyes. The world outside looked so indescribably beautiful, as if I was seeing it for the first time. Everything felt wonderfully new, like I was an awestruck child again, naïve in my discovery of simple things. Suddenly, I couldn’t stop giggling and smiling. My core filled with a gooey warmth that spread throughout my body. It was overwhelmingly pleasurable, the best feeling I’d ever had. I peered over at C, and felt myself getting incredibly turned on, more than I’d ever been. I threw myself at him, and started kissing him boldly, which was at the time, very out of character for me, having only kissed one other boy in my 18 years. After we finished making out we drove on in comfortable silence, enjoying our dwindling highs. As I observed the road, a raspberry colored blob appeared on the road in the shape of a flat cartoon-ish elephant with a short trunk and no ears, almost like a drawing. It began to slowly move its limbs and cross the road more slowly than any real animal. I revealed this to C and the uncertainty that he believed my crazed hallucinogenic state continued. But I knew what I had seen. As I kept watching, the pink elephant simply vanished.

Most people I meet don’t believe you can hallucinate or have an out-of-body experience just from cannabis. Even when I tell them my story they are slightly hesitant to believe it, but I can understand why. However, nothing is exaggerated. I have read articles on “cannabis-induced psychosis” and am not exactly sure if that’s what I experienced a year ago, but if it had to be given a name, that would be it. My experience was nothing short of a confused delirium.

Despite this experience I continue to use weed on a weekly basis for symptoms of Crohn’s disease and have registered with my state’s medical marijuana program. Even though my initial response to weed was that of a horrible nightmare, with my tolerance I am able to use marijuana with many health and mental benefits. I know that others aren’t so affected by marijuana, but my first experience with weed changed my life forever and will be something that I’ll never forget.

Exp Year: 2009ExpID: 91365
Gender: Female 
Age at time of experience: 18 
Published: May 18, 2021Views: 268
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Cannabis (1) : Medical Use (47), First Times (2), Small Group (2-9) (17)

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Experience Reports are the writings and opinions of the individual authors who submit them.
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