Drugs

Good afternoon my lovelies … I hope you are all having a good Thursday (sorry, I'm probably posting this on Friday as I need to grammar-check it with my mate first). I'm sitting on my reading chair with the cricket in the background (not a fan of test cricket). There is no turning it off, as Simon is recovering from an injury and has plonked himself there for the day. He is a much better patient than me and makes his own tea/ breakfast. I didn't know what I was going to write about until I sat down and reached for a painkiller - it made me think of other drugs, and well, let's let you know about one of my experiences…

I have always been a bit clueless/ scared about anything stronger than paracetamol and didn't dare touch anything. My parents have always instilled in me not to touch them, and I've always been a bit scared... When I have been in environments where people have done drugs, I have always been able to say no, and there have been a lot of times. I say this; there was one time when I was travelling the world with a friend, and she convinced me to try mushrooms we were tubing in Laos (I don't know how she convinced me). She told me that it would just make me happy and that I would laugh, and if I were going to try anything, this would be the drug to try. I said go on then, I'll try it once, and then I can say I've tried drugs; I always say try everything once in life.

So we decided to have a 'space mushroom pizza', which was actually delicious - I inhaled it. We continued onto a bar afterwards and ordered a bucket of vodka Red Bull (god knows what was in that, honestly). We started chatting to these boys, and after about 45 minutes, suddenly, I felt like a switch had gone in my head… I stood up and told my friend that everything had gone black and white (it's fair to say the guy I was chatting to quickly lost interest in me, but I had other issues at this point). I had no idea this was a hallucinogenic drug, so I was clearly very paranoid. I then started shouting that I was MELTING and started crawling on my hands and knees out of the bar across the bridge (I cannot imagine what I looked like - I was definitely a better entertainment than the live band). I would have done anything at that moment to get out of this 'trip' I started making myself sick at the bar entrance and threw the pizza back up. I remember people walking past and saying, 'Wow, now that is a pizza'.

Because I thought my brain was melting, I needed to read things to prove this was incorrect. This is pretty ironic as now I have anxiety, and when I think I'm going a bit funny, I get a book out to make sure I can still read. My brain hasn't changed much, I see. Anyway, I went into a supermarket nearby and started reading the back of soup tins, don't ask me why. Still, I threw them down on the floor after I read them, and the store manager wanted to chuck me out, but I refused to leave without ten bottles of orange juice (I heard somewhere to get out of a trip, you had to drink orange juice). I necked these as fast as I could and then again was sick. (I can confirm these don't help in the slightest, so don't bother if you somehow find yourself in this position - If you have - idiot!) 😂

My friend eventually got me back to our apartment. No taxi driver would take me (I wouldn't have to be fair), so it was a pretty long journey back where I crawled most of it (what should have 2 mins took 2 hours). When we got into the apartment, our other friend was fast asleep and had a stomach bug. I woke her up and told her I was dying. She just rolled around to her other side and fell back asleep. (Thanks, mate!).

My friend locked the balcony doors and made sure I didn't have the urge to fly or anything; she also took my phone. (I was adamant about calling my parents to say goodbye). I really thought I would die if I fell asleep, so I sat at our desk looking at the wall for probably about 2 hours and had a moment where I actually enjoyed the trip and was fascinated with the lid of my water bottle and the shapes it was making. This totally didn't make it worth the other tortuous hours of the trip, though, I assure you, but at least I experienced one moment. I finally fell asleep and felt really withdrawn and low the next day.

I would have a headache for a few months afterwards, and it would take me back to my mushroom trip and freak me out. It passed over a few months, but in a way, it's kind of like what's happened to me now. This time was a lot more trauma on my mind after my op, and it's taking a lot more months to get over (I still have my moments, to be honest). It has put me off drugs ever since. However, prescription drugs are a different story for me now, and I'll go into that next time as well as antidepressants, as I don't feel it's talked about enough. So yeah, my advice from this is if you have any paranoid mind… do not do shrooms.

xBx

P.S. To this day, I cannot eat a mushroom 🍄