…I’ve done my fair share of partying in my time. I’m not proud of it…I see drugs as a weakness, a way that people who cannot deal with reality escape reality. I’m not saying smoking pot on occasion is a sin but people who need it to function bother me a little bit. Then again…whatever gets you through your day I guess. I personally grew up with a drug dealing father so…drugs aren’t really my thing…but…
I’ve done cocaine, ecstasy, methadone, xanax, oxycodon…in high school I went through a brief but intense depression because my first boyfriend dumped me and I was devastated (and now I’m just embarrassed…) and basically did a budget tour of all the drugs I could get my hands on in a very short period of time. Some stuck around and others just…weren’t that great. I made up a HUGE lie saying I was allergic to pot in high school because I didn’t know how to say no when my friends asked me to smoke with them. Yup…I’m THAT lame. But…I came clean eventually and started smoking pot with my friends after high school…and they all seemed to have forgiven me for my lying.
So…having moved up here to good ol’ Oly I decided to smoke with some of my new friends…just one hit and then chill out…nothing big…just chilling out on my boyfriend’s birthday…getting a little silly.
Wrong.
Suddenly, I’m out on the balcony…barfing into a ravine…literally because I am tripping balls. And it’s my boyfriend’s birthday…and here I am on the balcony hurling. Awesome. And then I refuse to come inside because I am so high that A) the 30 degree weather doesn’t feel cold B) I am TERRIFIED that I am going to barf on our friend’s carpet. After about 30 minutes of this…sitting on the ground, my head squeezed between two wooden beams like one of those men in the medieval villages that’s being punished…in a little T shirt…I suddenly start to shiver uncontrollably. All I can think about is that it is my boyfriend’s birthday and I am ruining it. Which clearly was not the case however paranoia had set in. I beg my boyfriend “Okay, just tell me how much you love me. I can turn this around. I am high I just have to make my high good again!!! Just talk to me about happy things!!” So he starts talking about my best friend…and how cool she is and how she is gonna go to taxidermy school and how I always talk about how amazing she is. And then he talks about my other best friend and how I sent her a mix and how “I bet she loves it!!!” This starts to work and so I try to stand up because I am starting to feel good again…
And then another heave…and I’m back on the floor.
So after much persuasion and chanting about how much I am loved both by my boyfriend and my best friends and how I am not gonna barf I am not gonna barf I am not gonna barf…….and my boyfriend gets me up and walking and we head back to our apartment where I dry heave some more and eventually lay in bed and sing Regina Spektor songs to myself until I am calmed the fuck down.
Now…this being said…when I lived in Seaside, Ca I lived in a party house. I have done my fair share of babysitting and helping those in need when they are…well…far too inebriated and didn’t know when to say when…And I have only experienced the care giving side of this operation…never been on the receiving end. God it was awful. And the worst part wasn’t that I had lost control of my body but that I couldn’t let go of how embarrassed I was and I couldn’t escape how much anxiety I had about the entire situation. And even in the arms of the man I love I still felt so scared of myself and my actions. It definitely made me realize how much what other people think of me is instilled in my entire being…and it was very saddening to me when I woke up this morning.
And my bed never felt so safe and warm and wonderful….fuck I love my bed.
So…now that my embarrassing story is out of my system…I am a little ashamed….but cest le vie…Next time I will know better.
So…in short. Washington weed fucks your shit up. Drugs are bad. And if all else fails…my best friends and my boyfriend love me, and who gives a shit about everyone else. Let what everyone thinks of you go the fuck away. Because when it comes down to it, it makes you sick.
*sigh* what a night.
