First, I want to say this discussion has gone from a disaster, to what I intended all along. Thanks, claire!

The oxazepam is kicking in and I'm not really in the mood to make a long post, but if you like, I will respond to your post in about...18 hours or so, after some sleep and a day of skiing! :D
See how far we've come with no one insulting one another? I mean, no, we don't see eye-to-eye or anything, but there is now reasoning and listening and no put-downs. The put-downs were needless, far more can be achieved this way, my opinion actually has a chance of being swayed in this environment, so thanks for stepping in and taking the mature approach. I read your post, and see some really good points, so I'll respond tomorrow...Unfortunately right now I'm all

and yawning and stuff, so I won't be able to think that well.
EDIT
Alright...This whole thing has surfaced in my dreams. READ THIS EVERYONE. It is weird, and I felt genuinely bad and killed myself for 'snitching'.
Alright, so the dream starts out with I guess me posting on Bluelight, maybe about snitching, who knows, and I get a phone from my mother and she has arrived at my university to see me for a night and take me out to dinner (in light of me recently being honest with her about drug use and mental issues). So we're near the car, just chatting, and she knows I've been off the weed for like, 23 days now, so asks about that, and I was like, yup, still clean. So she says, who exactly did you buy your drugs off? And I say, well, drug dealers of course. And she says, yeah, but WHO? So I argue for a bit, about how I won't tell her, but she is persistent.
What happens is I basically write down on a piece of paper for her, for some reason (legal contract? huh? huh?) that my two weed dealers are good friends of mine, there is no way you will get their names, but this one guy I know, he sell coke and he made this documentary. OK, that is one WEIRD dream twist, lol, I know who I was referring to, but he's never made a documentary, lol.
So I wasn't really expecting this fact to tip her off either, I guess, but I gave it for some reason. She says, aha, I've heard of this documentary, I will get the school to investigate and we're gonna bring him down. This guy is a very good guy, very nice to me, and I didn't intend to get him in trouble, I just gave a really dumb, non-existent clue...But he's going down right?
So I'm arguing with her in the car, you can't do this, he is a good guy, stuff like that. She won't give in, so I smack my mother in the back of the head 3-4 times and say, let me out I want out, jump out the car and run back to university. Things get weird, I try telling some buddies about how my mom is a dirty bitch and is gonna rat on this coke dealer, but they have to go eat dinner...Then I give this SHITTY presentation for some reason in the residence commons, which is like, totally not a classroom lol, and that was terrible.
So I go up the elevator to my room, ignore some calls from my mom, get hammered on beers, take all the Oxazepam I have (200mg about) and die.
Lol...So maybe I learned my lesson a bit through this dream. I felt genuinely horrible for leading to this guys demise. The only differences between this, and what would go down, is it was my mom, not the police, and I wasn't actually facing any jail time for not saying anything (but was being interrogated a bit I guess), and this guy in particular was one I wouldn't wish to snitch on, as he is a good guy and I consider him a friend, not a close friend, but a friend anyways. But still...It was fucking weird and I killed myself for snitching, lol, so maybe my position has changed a bit, because I felt genuinely bad about the whole thing (suicide...).