Hello! About 31/2 years ago, my friends and I had just left school, and we were on the way to home.
I was around 16 at the time, we were happy as Larry walking home and saw two other friends who had some legal, (our term for spice) (I had previously smoked it on some occasions, so it wasn’t new or my first time).
We were chatting and laughing, as a group of lads did when we started smoking the joint and passing it around, I was on an empty stomach at the time, as I spend my dinner money on cigarettes.
I passed the joint to the left, my ability to laugh no longer there, and I found very( the worst feeling ever) the wrong feeling, and knew that this time I had too much (I held it in as long as an I could, three huge puffs).
I didn’t want to die, I was trying to prepare myself for the inevitable shitstorm, it began.
My face, to the top of my forehead to my chin, felt like it was melting off, (oh no, I’m serious).
My face felt like it was SLIDING off my skull, (I was self-conscious of my spots back then, that’s probably why) and I couldn’t hear the conversation going down around me, I am a quiet lad, especially back then, so my mates weren’t too worried that I was silent.
Anyway, we began to walk off, walking home, and for the next 5- 10 minute I can’t remember what happened.
I seriously don’t have any recollection, but because I had an empty stomach, my ultra stoned (ultra messed) head made me believing my throat pipe leading down to my stomach which was made of metal.
My stomach was a big empty black tank (think of a boiler in a house that supplies gas), that was slowly filling up with blood (oh no, I’m dead serious here too, slowly filling up, while the sensation to be sick was also building), this is where it got twisted. I was in the middle of the road at a four-way junction (small town, no traffic, hardly ever is on quiet streets) and I was having a walking seizure.
My head was rolling around my torso, I couldn’t see anything, not as it were, everything was just WRONG and twisted.
I stopped in the middle of the junction and looked down this road towards my friends who were 100 meters down there (I was having a seizure, and they weren’t, so I was naturally walking slow, the idiots did nothing to help).
I looked at them and in my entire vision, I could see the road I was looking down, half of the road on my left and half the road on my right.
I turned my head left to look down that path, and the vision didn’t change, as in, when I looked down the left road I still saw the same sight.
I had sawed before I moved my head, this went on for about 4 seconds, vision flashing all the while. My view was split into sections, the left section ORANGE, the middle RED, and the right yellow, (I honestly swear to God that what I’m saying is 100% correct) and at this point, I had accepted I was going to die.
I thought of my family, everyone I knew and what I had going for me, all for it be ended by taking a drug. I imagined my mother’s reaction, my friend’s reaction as I led down dying, but that luckily didn’t happen.
Instead, my attention was directed to the internal tank slowly filling with blood; this was it. I was going to throw up what felt like one liter of blood in front of everyone, in public in my school uniform, ( a black suit with purple tie), so I shouted to my friend who seemed 5 miles away “I’M GONNA PALE!!”
I yelled this over 5 times, looking down focusing all my energy on this big black tank, that was my stomach, (I say focusing, but I was entirely gone, I was still having the same seizure I mentioned earlier. However, I don’t be sick; I managed just to ride it out and swallow enough to keep the sick (or blood) inside me. I can’t remember much from here; I must have caught up with my friends and talked them through why I was acting like a frenzied gorilla, certainly not laughing as they were.
We reached a point where we split off; they walked one way. I walked the other alone; I remember thinking about how much of a f**k up I was, scarred for life of what I’d seen ( hell? possession? it was like I entered another dimension, a twisted, disturbed reality of everything I knew).
I think I tripped that hard because I was one of the most creative people anybody knew, honestly my mind could run wild, and I could come up with the finest of creativity, I was never bored before I found legal actually, there was never a dull moment.
Now I’m VERY different, I am 19, my creativity is still there, but I can’t focus on it and USE it. It’s been dumbed down to a very insignificant level, I am now, basically, a bitter old man, it feels as if I’ve had enough of life and that there isn’t worth living for, my relationships with my family members are only still real because THEY put the effort. I can’t even socialize properly; I can’t make new friends.
When it comes to speaking to authority, I shy away and get flushed and nervous. I sweat buckets, but now it’s at the worst time, I’m having to attend interviews living with the condition, scared out of my right mind, nearly passing out just being there if not for my family.
I would be dead by now, there aren’t two ways about it, they have kept me up and give me a reason to live. I still contemplate suicide every month or so.
My life is nothing now; I’m simply a vessel; I don’t do drugs now anything hard; I will never touch heroin, or crack. I have dabbled in cocaine and pills but still I can’t enjoy them; they don’t make me feel euphoric.
I hardly feel anything, at any time, so what’s the point in destroying my body through stimulants if I don’t feel them to their full extent (they only don’t’ and can’t appeal to me, I don’t rush and feel up like my friends). I smoke marijuana very often, nearly every day, without any job, it’s hard to fund it.
I think weed is the only thing that’s keeping me alive. If I don’t smoke it I schizo out; I punch doors that are very hard and always break it. A swell my middle knuckle to the size of a ping pong ball. I rage at my loving, caring mother, and regret it EVERY TIME.
Only when I smoke weed, I see the value in life, it makes me look at my family with love, and thankfulness, makes me realize the little things in life, but when I’m not baked, I’m just nothing.
I can’t feel emotions, or control them. My dad has cancer, and I’m genuinely upset, and I feel tears every time I see him. I can’t go and see him every day, not when I can’t get out of bed, that stupid day where I thought I was king and decided to hold three big puffs in and it has negatively ravaged, annihilated, zapped my life force and taken the fun and goodness from everything.
It doesn’t even get me started on girls; I’m dying alone, and that’s the fact. It’s not that, it creepy or weird, they talk to me and stuff, the second they feel attraction they just know it’s a bad idea. So I’ve given up on that, just waiting for a miracle, I don’t see anything interesting in a man’s ass, so I’m not going to become gay.
The point is, I know I would be in a god job with good friends. Instead, I’ve still never had a job (Admittedly, I have managed to finish college, and have a diploma in ICT) that’s only because I’m now basically a robot. All you have to do is process information, and that’s even hard to do, in the UK, college is similar to school difficulty-wise, so it isn’t like I’ve got a degree, it’s just another qualification under your belt.
Anyway, I’m trailing off again; it’s incredibly writing something this long and in depth, I feel as if I’ve talked about nothing and can’t even remember how I started this story, evidence my mind is a f***ing shambles. Where am I again? Oh yeah, the fact that I feel like crying when I enter an interview (I’m male) and the prospect of being depended on and expected to work 9-5 all week has had me looking at painless ways to die on the internet. I know I’m not going to see age 25, and that’s a straight fact.
I could have been a bright lad, lots in store for the future; now people look at me on the street as if I’m a smack head, (crack head). My stress and depression make me skinny as s**t. If you smoke spice, then you’re signing your slow painful death, full of craziness and psychotic rampages. I WAS SUCH A QUIET SWEET LAD, NOW IM A FREAK, NOBODY INVITES ME OUT; NOBODY GIVES an SHI*T ABOUT ME AND IM SICK OF IT ALL.
I can’t spend another day in this dead head, permanent tunnel vision, depression, PTSD, ANXIETY, AND NO MOTIVATION AND NO SELF ESTEEM (not just some “low” self-esteem) NONE, I’m already dead, inside.
What a fucking world this is, loving wife, kids, a house? Don’t make me laugh; I’ve got other let’s say three years until I can’t practically see myself losing it. Everybody likes to me, doesn’t give a fuck, if you know someone who smokes spice, slap them across the face and threaten to kill them if you see the smoking it ever again, they will end up dead anyway. I just need to vent :(. I’m too much of a pussy to kill myself, back to this torture chamber of a head I guess, cherish your sanity while it lasts.