It was last year, my friend and I were casual pot smokers and “spice” was the cheaper alternative, we got more of it compared to the price of weed.
I was with my partner at the time who smoked a stronger dose called Bangkok Betty. We had two bowls prepared and somehow accidentally mixed them up. So my friend and I ended up smoking the higher dose, and it hit instantly, I felt so warm and fuzzy.
The world was spinning around me so fast, and I immediately regretted my choice. We stumbled, trying to maintain our composure. My partner straight away knew something was up and raced after me.
I fell on the bed face first with my heart racing, my world spinning and next thing I knew I felt like dying and so I was talking about death, giving them my farewell and that I loved them and that I didn’t want to die. I was breathing fast, and it just felt like the world was crashing.
I remember thinking about hearing an ambulance, which my partner and his friend had left, but it was just hallucinations.
They knew I figured I was dying but I just couldn’t escape it. Breathing funny, feeling weird and compressed, the idea that I could be dying was still fresh in my mind, and I was hallucinating a shit load.
I turned to my friend and said, “Do you think they know?” Which she responded with, “Know what?” I said, “Nothing could you get me a drink?”
And so, I sat there by myself, my body forcing me to do things I didn’t want to do and somehow I managed to get myself off of the floor and sipped on my drink.
I suddenly saw my partner and a rage entered me; I threw my drink at him who missed and then the glass cup – at this point all I remember saying was, “this is your entire fault!” I sat down again, body doing things I didn’t want as well as my heart still racing.
I used breathing techniques to get my sanity back, and it helped a lot, my heart slowed but once I forgot to do it all came rushing back again, and it was like I was dying again. Ten minutes before the trip stopped, I managed to make it outside and sit down next to my partner.
I apologized profusely and then suddenly I was yelling out loudly and didn’t even realize I was, my head was all numbers, and I had to subdue them, so I didn’t do crazy shit again. Eventually, it ended, my body was tired, and I was emotionally exhausted.
Now I can never smoke pot again, the idea of high gives me paranoia because I think it’s just going to be like spice and I don’t want it. It has screwed with my memory, and it has brought out some schizophrenia in me where I always dissociate.
I’m not smoking anything now, but one scary experience on this fake stuff has ruined me smoking the standard stuff. Now I have nothing to calm me down anymore, nothing to help me sleep. I miss it a lot, but I don’t think my mindset could handle it anymore.
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