FlyfromtheInside
Greenlighter
- Joined
- Jul 17, 2010
- Messages
- 3
I'm new here, but wanted to share my experience with this crap. You could say the media gives it a bad name and I'm sure there are good, pleasant experiences, but I never encountered them. I am 39 yrs old and have since retired from doing drugs and alcohol even. Because of what it has done to me physically and mentally. That doesn't mean it will happen to you and I am no way telling what to do because it is your choice to do what you want. This is my experience and mine alone. Other's may have had better, but mine is all from unknowingly doing it too. If I had known what I was smoking and someone telling me how to go slow with it may have turned out differently.
So anyway here is a story of my first time experience with PcP.
When I was fourteen I had an experience with
PCP aka angel dust and it wasn't a pleasant one. I
never understood why they called it angel dust
when it should be called motherfucking devil dust
because it has to be the most dangerous, hellish
and unpredictable drug on this planet. (In my opinion)
One night I helped this next door neighbor move
in a washer and dryer. After we are done we are
in his living room, and he bends down pulling out a
tray from underneath his couch with bags of pot,
seeds and joints. He picks out this specific lone joint
and hands it to me with a lighter and a grin.
He says” This is for helping me. You can have this
one all to yourself.“ I’m thinking how cool this guy is.
The house is full of pot smoke haze. His friends
are over and his girlfriend is drinking beer.
I’m puffing on this joint, kicked back on the couch,
and become one with the pillows and finish off
what I believe is just weed. My eyes become
heavy, and I am very high, no I am super-high like
I’ve never been before. Then there is a knock at
the door and I’m jumpy as hell trying to not look
like I am high. The door opens and it is my older
brother. There is a cloud of pot smoke and the room
is full people and music. He has a look of horror
on his face and commands me to get home.
Everyone laughs and when they do it sounds
weird. Like slow and fast at the same time. They
tell me bye and see me tomorrow. I say
something back, but my speech is slurred and
they laugh again and so do I. Everything was
funny at first until I get home.
When we get home, my brother goes to bed and
my mom already asleep because it is late around
11:00pm. I feel a rush of panic coming on and I
become very paranoid. I lay down in my bed, turn
off the light. It is pitch black. I suddenly feel as
though my mind has separated from my body. My
body feels numb, paralyzed and turned to stone. I
see gray smoke coming from my mouth and nose
every time I breathe. I see it dancing in front of
me.
Words in my mind begin to speed up, slow down
and echo. I start believing I am dead. I literally
feel as though I am losing my mind. Anxiety is out
of control as this panic attack grows and festers,
yet I can’t speak outloud it is like my vocal chords
are stuck. I want to jump up but I actually think in
my head that I can’t move and that I’m dead. They
are going to find me dead here in the morning, I
think. Then what?
Thoughts of suicide form almost romantically
swirling around and it was the very first time I had
ever dwelled on it. I wished I would die because I
can’t take this feeling anymore. I see flashes of
myself putting a gun to my mouth and pulling the
trigger. Images like a movie of me doing this over
and over again are horrific. Again my thoughts go
to "What will they say at my funeral? Has my
breath left my body? Am I breathing? Do I have a
pulse?" I think my heart has stopped beating and
I am dead, yet I want to die, so this drug effect will
go away.
My thoughts are firing rather confusing ramblings
and gibberish inside my brain at once and
continuing to speed up and slow down. I take my
hand which feels like it weighs a hundred pounds
and I check my heart and doesn't feel like it is
beating. I suddenly feel invincible. I can’t even
feel any pain anymore. I pinch myself and feel
nothing. This was total euphoria and schizophrenic
twice over. This lasted for hours and hours until
the sun came up and I fall asleep.
Later that day I ask the next door neighbor what I
smoked and he said a joint laced with angel dust
and then he asked me what happened. I told him
my experience. He thought it was funny. I thought
I had gone insane. What happened that night
stayed with me for a little while as flashbacks at
times. I felt paranoid, but in time it subsided to a
certain degree, but it stayed with me and caused
me to have social anxiety and small amounts of
hearing voices. I believe without a doubt it caused
some schtzophrenia too. It was also not the last
time I smoked weed laced with angel dust. It
happened about five more times until I decided to
quit smoking pot all together in my early twenties.
I just didn't trust anyone anymore.
Just so everyone knows I had depression since I was a kid and this may have been one reason I had such a bad time with it. I really do not know. That's why I did drugs and alcohol in the first place to cope with depression. But it made it worse.
So anyway here is a story of my first time experience with PcP.
When I was fourteen I had an experience with
PCP aka angel dust and it wasn't a pleasant one. I
never understood why they called it angel dust
when it should be called motherfucking devil dust
because it has to be the most dangerous, hellish
and unpredictable drug on this planet. (In my opinion)
One night I helped this next door neighbor move
in a washer and dryer. After we are done we are
in his living room, and he bends down pulling out a
tray from underneath his couch with bags of pot,
seeds and joints. He picks out this specific lone joint
and hands it to me with a lighter and a grin.
He says” This is for helping me. You can have this
one all to yourself.“ I’m thinking how cool this guy is.
The house is full of pot smoke haze. His friends
are over and his girlfriend is drinking beer.
I’m puffing on this joint, kicked back on the couch,
and become one with the pillows and finish off
what I believe is just weed. My eyes become
heavy, and I am very high, no I am super-high like
I’ve never been before. Then there is a knock at
the door and I’m jumpy as hell trying to not look
like I am high. The door opens and it is my older
brother. There is a cloud of pot smoke and the room
is full people and music. He has a look of horror
on his face and commands me to get home.
Everyone laughs and when they do it sounds
weird. Like slow and fast at the same time. They
tell me bye and see me tomorrow. I say
something back, but my speech is slurred and
they laugh again and so do I. Everything was
funny at first until I get home.
When we get home, my brother goes to bed and
my mom already asleep because it is late around
11:00pm. I feel a rush of panic coming on and I
become very paranoid. I lay down in my bed, turn
off the light. It is pitch black. I suddenly feel as
though my mind has separated from my body. My
body feels numb, paralyzed and turned to stone. I
see gray smoke coming from my mouth and nose
every time I breathe. I see it dancing in front of
me.
Words in my mind begin to speed up, slow down
and echo. I start believing I am dead. I literally
feel as though I am losing my mind. Anxiety is out
of control as this panic attack grows and festers,
yet I can’t speak outloud it is like my vocal chords
are stuck. I want to jump up but I actually think in
my head that I can’t move and that I’m dead. They
are going to find me dead here in the morning, I
think. Then what?
Thoughts of suicide form almost romantically
swirling around and it was the very first time I had
ever dwelled on it. I wished I would die because I
can’t take this feeling anymore. I see flashes of
myself putting a gun to my mouth and pulling the
trigger. Images like a movie of me doing this over
and over again are horrific. Again my thoughts go
to "What will they say at my funeral? Has my
breath left my body? Am I breathing? Do I have a
pulse?" I think my heart has stopped beating and
I am dead, yet I want to die, so this drug effect will
go away.
My thoughts are firing rather confusing ramblings
and gibberish inside my brain at once and
continuing to speed up and slow down. I take my
hand which feels like it weighs a hundred pounds
and I check my heart and doesn't feel like it is
beating. I suddenly feel invincible. I can’t even
feel any pain anymore. I pinch myself and feel
nothing. This was total euphoria and schizophrenic
twice over. This lasted for hours and hours until
the sun came up and I fall asleep.
Later that day I ask the next door neighbor what I
smoked and he said a joint laced with angel dust
and then he asked me what happened. I told him
my experience. He thought it was funny. I thought
I had gone insane. What happened that night
stayed with me for a little while as flashbacks at
times. I felt paranoid, but in time it subsided to a
certain degree, but it stayed with me and caused
me to have social anxiety and small amounts of
hearing voices. I believe without a doubt it caused
some schtzophrenia too. It was also not the last
time I smoked weed laced with angel dust. It
happened about five more times until I decided to
quit smoking pot all together in my early twenties.
I just didn't trust anyone anymore.
Just so everyone knows I had depression since I was a kid and this may have been one reason I had such a bad time with it. I really do not know. That's why I did drugs and alcohol in the first place to cope with depression. But it made it worse.
![:\](https://bluelight.org/xf/BL_Images/Orig_Emoji/wrygrin.gif "wry grin :\")
