B
BentHead
Guest
Labour Day, the last long weekend of the summer – and what does that mean? Bender weekend of course!
I had been working hard at my job all summer (and growing sick of it), busted ass at my two summer courses (A+ and A-), and the last school year for me at University looming ahead, and a DJ I enjoy playing at a big party on the Sunday. For the most part I’ve been ‘behaving’ myself the summer – not doing drugs as often, not tripping as often as I had in previous years, and figured I ‘owed it’ to myself to let loose before the school year begins.
The weekend started off low-key enough. I had taken the Friday off of work, and it was a beautiful day out – so I threw on my roller blades, went for a ride and stopped off at Cherry Beach for a few hours and laid in the sun while reading and listening to music, and ended off the day heading out to a bar to see some local DJs I enjoyed.
The following day was simply a movie with some friends and I saw Halloween (Terrible! Save your money). Sunday rolls around and its “Time to Party!”, I had picked up my stash of drugs a few weeks before – a few pills, a few vials of K, had some Piracatam sitting around also to help boost things up a notch, and some hrmm .. ‘personal’ supplies for the post-party-party.
Sunday drags along and night rolls by. We were not leaving for the club until 2:00am or so, we wanted to avoid some of the crowed, and since the club was going to be open until at least 10am we were in no rush to get there right away. 2:00am rolls by, so I drop a speed-pill, divide up the drugs with my friend and head out towards the club. We get inside by about 3:00am, the place was full – but not packed, the music was good and the vibe was great. I quickly drop 2 E’s and carry on dancing.
The night flys by in a blur (and an extra 2 E later…), and next thing I know the sun is shinning in through the doors – I’m having fun but starting to get a bit frisky and decide to leave the club as its now around 8:00am and the DJ is starting to go onto a tangent that I’m not feeling, and having been there for about 5 hours, figure my $43 dollars was well spent.
However, on the walk home – for some reason in my infinite wisdom decide “Hey, we should do some LSD” – it’s a beautiful day, we are rolling, why not end off the weekend with some Lucy?
We get back home, I divide out some hits, and we also drop another half-pill of speed each along with the LSD. Now me and my friend start fooling around, next thing I know my stomach starts to churn on me, nausea swells, and in the middle of sex I find myself fleeing to the nearest can to unload the contents of my stomach into. Now, instead of thinking “Jeeze, maybe I should give this a rest” as a logical mind would say, I instead think “Fuck, I just threw up my cid” and head to the stash to get me another hit. I take another hit, brush my teeth – and resume having sex.
Now, I think it may of just been the apple juice not agreeing with my stomach, as I ended up throwing up a 2nd time later on (and again, not taking this as a que to stop what I’m doing and try to relax a bit – I just keep on partying away. Vomit on the floor? No problem – just mop it up, let me brush my teeth and we can get back at it…)
The day flys by in a psychedelic-amphetamine-E-enhanced-fuck-fest blur. I wont get into the details as its not needed. As the day carries on, my sex drive starts to wane and I just want to chill out for a bit, and what better way to relax after a day of partying than ramming more drugs up your nose? So – I bust open the K.
Snorting the K started innocently enough, I’d do a little bump, laydown and space out to music for a bit. But, then the K-cycle begins – the bumps get bigger, and more frequent. I’m finding myself saying “I don’t want anymore K”, yet it feels as if I’m in a robot-3rd person watching myself shovel more up my nose – my logical mind is screaming at me to stop – I’m not enjoying it anymore, yet I cant do it.
It feels as if I’m watching myself in 3rd person doing this – I’m having conversations with myself, conversations with the straw I’m snorting with, with the line of K about to go up my nose. Up it goes, I see the line vanish, I stumble to my bed and lay down forgetting what I had just done, and decide to do even more K. This cycle repeats a few times – now an dthen I’d end up on the couch next to my friend mumbling something about Ketamine and not wanting to do anymore, then next thing I know the cycle continues.
It gets to the point where I don’t know who I am, what day it is, or how the fuck I’m managing to live in reality. I’m starting to become disgusted with myself – why am I putting myself through this, do I hate myself and my life this much that I need to be so disrespectful to my mind/body in order to have a “good time?”
The day rolls by and I /finnay/ stop hitting the K. I am embarrassed at myself, I am ashamed of what I’ve done. Its now around 4:00pm or so, and there is a party going on at the beach that we decide to go to. We rest for a bit, shower, back our bags – and I make the conscious choice not to bring any more drugs with me except for a weed brownie I had from last week.
We pack up our stuff and head over to a friends place and chill on her patio before flagging a taxi down to the beach. We get to the beach and my stomach drops – its busy as all fuck, the music is terrible – jungle, reggaetron., hard aggressive beats. The vibe of the beach was more aggressive than it has been in the past weeks (which is usually pretty chill/mellow) – the place was packed and it was hard to find a square of sand to setup camp on.
We ran into some friends that I knew (but friends that don’t party), and suddenly find myself feeling embarrassed to be around them – I havnt slept, I’m fucked up on E/Acid/Speed – my mind is a blank and cant think of much more to say than “duhhh…..”, so me and my friend excuse ourselves and sit down for a bit.
I try and ease into the beach – try and get into the mood for it. The two friends I am with are not looking all that thrilled with the beach either, the Samba squad starts up and starts to bust out the drums – but its just aggervating me. I mention to my one friend who looks like he’s in a terrible mood “Hey, I wouldn’t think you were being a pill if you wanted to leave” in attempt to rally up some support to get the fuck out of there.
We talk a bit and decide “Well, lets wait until the techno starts and see how we feel”, but the drumming seems to drone on for ever, and increasingly it feels as if I’m on the verge of an anxiety attack – I just want to “Just be”, bugs are starting to fly all over – loads of flies buzzing around multiplied by acid-tracers. I just cant be at ease and want to scream – finnaly I say “Hey guys, I don’t think techno is going to help --- I just want to leave”
After much fussing about and a little mini-drama : we end up in a Taxi heading back to my friends who has the patio. I just wanted to lay down, relax and be in the company of people I enjoy – and not at the beach.
The night rolls on, and eventually end up back at home – laying in bed with my mind racing a million miles a minute. Some things which my mind got wandering to were.
1. I do not like the person I am becoming. The other day my partner said something along the lines of “you just cant keep going through life being an apathetic stoner-programmer boy”, and this really started to ring true to me. I’ve been starting to let myself slip into a cliché that I do NOT like.
2. I’m see the harm that excessive drug-use is causing to some friends around me – and starting to see a few things like that happen to me. I can be a bit of space-case at times, my short-term memory isn’t what it should be. I don’t like it
3. There is the long-list of “things I want to do…” but never get around to doing them, usually because something like partying or buying drugs squeaks its way into 1st place.
Things like – I need a new bed, a new couch, a new TV. Once I graduate from school I’d like to travel – yet, if I continue to blow money on weed, E, and other drugs – none of this stuff is going to happen. I really wanted to buy a bike this summer, take up jogging – for some reason I could never seem to find a couple hundred bucks to spend on a mountain bike from Canadian Tire, yet I seemed to have no problem pulling $200 out of my ass to buy an oz of weed.
I’m nearly 25, just about done my University career (for now), and cant help but think – it’s time to grow up. I need to re-shift my priorities and start looking at planning for my future rather than for the next bender-weekend.
I’m not sure if I’ll go as far as to say that I’m NEVER going to touch drugs again – but I think I’ve effectively killed the appeal of “The Bender” weekend for me. Parts of it were fun – REALLY fucking fun. But, as I laid there useless the entire day after – head hurting, body sore, unable to focus on anything and feeling as if I’ve just taken a few years off of my life. Something about what I did, and how I went about it just disgusted me – I have more respect for myself, my brain and my body to do that again “just for a good time”
Right now, I don’t even feel like touching weed – and half tempted just to toss everything down the toilet right now.
I think the birthday gift I’m going to give to myself this year is : Stop spending money on drugs, and that extra few-hundred I’ll find in my pocket every month going into a separate bank account to help fund a post-graduation Vacation.
I want my end of University celebration to be a trip I cant forget, not a weekend I cant remember.
I had been working hard at my job all summer (and growing sick of it), busted ass at my two summer courses (A+ and A-), and the last school year for me at University looming ahead, and a DJ I enjoy playing at a big party on the Sunday. For the most part I’ve been ‘behaving’ myself the summer – not doing drugs as often, not tripping as often as I had in previous years, and figured I ‘owed it’ to myself to let loose before the school year begins.
The weekend started off low-key enough. I had taken the Friday off of work, and it was a beautiful day out – so I threw on my roller blades, went for a ride and stopped off at Cherry Beach for a few hours and laid in the sun while reading and listening to music, and ended off the day heading out to a bar to see some local DJs I enjoyed.
The following day was simply a movie with some friends and I saw Halloween (Terrible! Save your money). Sunday rolls around and its “Time to Party!”, I had picked up my stash of drugs a few weeks before – a few pills, a few vials of K, had some Piracatam sitting around also to help boost things up a notch, and some hrmm .. ‘personal’ supplies for the post-party-party.
Sunday drags along and night rolls by. We were not leaving for the club until 2:00am or so, we wanted to avoid some of the crowed, and since the club was going to be open until at least 10am we were in no rush to get there right away. 2:00am rolls by, so I drop a speed-pill, divide up the drugs with my friend and head out towards the club. We get inside by about 3:00am, the place was full – but not packed, the music was good and the vibe was great. I quickly drop 2 E’s and carry on dancing.
The night flys by in a blur (and an extra 2 E later…), and next thing I know the sun is shinning in through the doors – I’m having fun but starting to get a bit frisky and decide to leave the club as its now around 8:00am and the DJ is starting to go onto a tangent that I’m not feeling, and having been there for about 5 hours, figure my $43 dollars was well spent.
However, on the walk home – for some reason in my infinite wisdom decide “Hey, we should do some LSD” – it’s a beautiful day, we are rolling, why not end off the weekend with some Lucy?
We get back home, I divide out some hits, and we also drop another half-pill of speed each along with the LSD. Now me and my friend start fooling around, next thing I know my stomach starts to churn on me, nausea swells, and in the middle of sex I find myself fleeing to the nearest can to unload the contents of my stomach into. Now, instead of thinking “Jeeze, maybe I should give this a rest” as a logical mind would say, I instead think “Fuck, I just threw up my cid” and head to the stash to get me another hit. I take another hit, brush my teeth – and resume having sex.
Now, I think it may of just been the apple juice not agreeing with my stomach, as I ended up throwing up a 2nd time later on (and again, not taking this as a que to stop what I’m doing and try to relax a bit – I just keep on partying away. Vomit on the floor? No problem – just mop it up, let me brush my teeth and we can get back at it…)
The day flys by in a psychedelic-amphetamine-E-enhanced-fuck-fest blur. I wont get into the details as its not needed. As the day carries on, my sex drive starts to wane and I just want to chill out for a bit, and what better way to relax after a day of partying than ramming more drugs up your nose? So – I bust open the K.
Snorting the K started innocently enough, I’d do a little bump, laydown and space out to music for a bit. But, then the K-cycle begins – the bumps get bigger, and more frequent. I’m finding myself saying “I don’t want anymore K”, yet it feels as if I’m in a robot-3rd person watching myself shovel more up my nose – my logical mind is screaming at me to stop – I’m not enjoying it anymore, yet I cant do it.
It feels as if I’m watching myself in 3rd person doing this – I’m having conversations with myself, conversations with the straw I’m snorting with, with the line of K about to go up my nose. Up it goes, I see the line vanish, I stumble to my bed and lay down forgetting what I had just done, and decide to do even more K. This cycle repeats a few times – now an dthen I’d end up on the couch next to my friend mumbling something about Ketamine and not wanting to do anymore, then next thing I know the cycle continues.
It gets to the point where I don’t know who I am, what day it is, or how the fuck I’m managing to live in reality. I’m starting to become disgusted with myself – why am I putting myself through this, do I hate myself and my life this much that I need to be so disrespectful to my mind/body in order to have a “good time?”
The day rolls by and I /finnay/ stop hitting the K. I am embarrassed at myself, I am ashamed of what I’ve done. Its now around 4:00pm or so, and there is a party going on at the beach that we decide to go to. We rest for a bit, shower, back our bags – and I make the conscious choice not to bring any more drugs with me except for a weed brownie I had from last week.
We pack up our stuff and head over to a friends place and chill on her patio before flagging a taxi down to the beach. We get to the beach and my stomach drops – its busy as all fuck, the music is terrible – jungle, reggaetron., hard aggressive beats. The vibe of the beach was more aggressive than it has been in the past weeks (which is usually pretty chill/mellow) – the place was packed and it was hard to find a square of sand to setup camp on.
We ran into some friends that I knew (but friends that don’t party), and suddenly find myself feeling embarrassed to be around them – I havnt slept, I’m fucked up on E/Acid/Speed – my mind is a blank and cant think of much more to say than “duhhh…..”, so me and my friend excuse ourselves and sit down for a bit.
I try and ease into the beach – try and get into the mood for it. The two friends I am with are not looking all that thrilled with the beach either, the Samba squad starts up and starts to bust out the drums – but its just aggervating me. I mention to my one friend who looks like he’s in a terrible mood “Hey, I wouldn’t think you were being a pill if you wanted to leave” in attempt to rally up some support to get the fuck out of there.
We talk a bit and decide “Well, lets wait until the techno starts and see how we feel”, but the drumming seems to drone on for ever, and increasingly it feels as if I’m on the verge of an anxiety attack – I just want to “Just be”, bugs are starting to fly all over – loads of flies buzzing around multiplied by acid-tracers. I just cant be at ease and want to scream – finnaly I say “Hey guys, I don’t think techno is going to help --- I just want to leave”
After much fussing about and a little mini-drama : we end up in a Taxi heading back to my friends who has the patio. I just wanted to lay down, relax and be in the company of people I enjoy – and not at the beach.
The night rolls on, and eventually end up back at home – laying in bed with my mind racing a million miles a minute. Some things which my mind got wandering to were.
1. I do not like the person I am becoming. The other day my partner said something along the lines of “you just cant keep going through life being an apathetic stoner-programmer boy”, and this really started to ring true to me. I’ve been starting to let myself slip into a cliché that I do NOT like.
2. I’m see the harm that excessive drug-use is causing to some friends around me – and starting to see a few things like that happen to me. I can be a bit of space-case at times, my short-term memory isn’t what it should be. I don’t like it
3. There is the long-list of “things I want to do…” but never get around to doing them, usually because something like partying or buying drugs squeaks its way into 1st place.
Things like – I need a new bed, a new couch, a new TV. Once I graduate from school I’d like to travel – yet, if I continue to blow money on weed, E, and other drugs – none of this stuff is going to happen. I really wanted to buy a bike this summer, take up jogging – for some reason I could never seem to find a couple hundred bucks to spend on a mountain bike from Canadian Tire, yet I seemed to have no problem pulling $200 out of my ass to buy an oz of weed.
I’m nearly 25, just about done my University career (for now), and cant help but think – it’s time to grow up. I need to re-shift my priorities and start looking at planning for my future rather than for the next bender-weekend.
I’m not sure if I’ll go as far as to say that I’m NEVER going to touch drugs again – but I think I’ve effectively killed the appeal of “The Bender” weekend for me. Parts of it were fun – REALLY fucking fun. But, as I laid there useless the entire day after – head hurting, body sore, unable to focus on anything and feeling as if I’ve just taken a few years off of my life. Something about what I did, and how I went about it just disgusted me – I have more respect for myself, my brain and my body to do that again “just for a good time”
Right now, I don’t even feel like touching weed – and half tempted just to toss everything down the toilet right now.
I think the birthday gift I’m going to give to myself this year is : Stop spending money on drugs, and that extra few-hundred I’ll find in my pocket every month going into a separate bank account to help fund a post-graduation Vacation.
I want my end of University celebration to be a trip I cant forget, not a weekend I cant remember.
