I’ve been smoking weed for about 10 years now. I’ve gotten so brazen that I saw rainbow tracers coming off of people movies like in the segue scenes of “That 70s Show” and I’d had the misfortune of getting K2 before, and the worst reaction I’ve ever had is I felt sick and very manic, almost as if I was on meth.
But I was at a friend’s house making myself ramen. My friend’s brother’s friend was in the kitchen with a syringe of black, a bag of what looked like a weed and asked if I smoke bud.
I responded and said I do but asked if it was only weed, and he said yeah, of course, unless you want to buy some heroin, I retorted with “No, that’s why I asked,” and he handed me the bowl.
I took an itty bitty baby hit as to not be rude its not my bud, thank him, and continue with my ramen. I take it off the stove, turn around, drain the noodles, and realize I’m shaking.
I look over, and this guy is gone. So I shakily try to get my food ready and quickly find a seat. This is all I actually remember. All I remember is seeing flashes of all of the people I’ve either loved or been in love with.
Eventually, everyone was yelling something else, and they were all so loud and closer than even my ears seemed to be, and I remember hours of that.
Still, I was conscious enough to know that wasn’t normal and eventually I was screaming back at the voices hoping they would let me go, and I distinctly remember thinking “It’s only been a few hours there’s no way I can do this for the rest of eternity.”
Then a demonic voice wakes up. Turns out, I wad shattered my ramen bowl punched the pieces, punched myself in the head, and sliced my elbow open, and was screaming in an extremely high pitch, and I was seizing.
When I came to, I had a heart rate of 180 and couldn’t remember who anyone was or where I was. I legitimately thought I had died and gone to hell.