Monday 28th This is what happened yesterday, and it’s not quite the full story cos I’m not quite ready to go there, because, sweet fuck, there’s a lot of explaining I have to do, but here’s part of it anyways. And if you wonder why I’m only ever writing bad shit these days, that’s because mostly, that’s all there is. And yes, I am taking steps to change things. We were hungover, we’d been watching Anne of Green Gables and eighties movies and other such stuff, and KateB wanted us to watch The Very Brady Sequel, and I had my doubts, so when our other friend suggested we have a smoke, I was very willing. After all, this was supposed to be my last weekend of drinking and so forth. The pot was strong, really strong, and my head started spinning very quickly, and I coughed a lot. KateH rang and I couldn’t string together a sentence. The characters in the movie seemed to be walking around in front of cardboard, and of course, because it’s a remake I wasn’t sure if they were the real Bradys or not. It kinda seemed like they were all laughing at me, and I felt really fucking strange. The other girls didn’t seem to notice it at all. I said “fuck” a lot as the room started spinning, and all of a sudden, the walls were melting into each other. I tried lying down, and that made it worse. I sat up, and it was worser. My vision seemed to have about a thousand layers to it, so I ripped off my glasses and my eyes cleared for a second, and then clouded again. Because the other two were so quiet, I began to suspect that they’d laced the pot with something, and I asked them again and again if they had and they denied it. I couldn’t breath, and I knew that I was having a panic attack, but then my whole body felt strange, like it was seizing up, and they wouldn’t help me, they didn’t think that anything was wrong with me, and they were ignoring me. I realised Bo was asleep in the next room and I knew then that she’d take care of me, she’d make it okay, she’d make it go away. In her room, I lay down on her bed with her and tried to tell her what was going on, but my legs kept twitching, and I was overwhelmed with this massive massive fear, and I just couldn’t communicate what was going on with me. She reminded me to keep breathing, and stroked my arm, and said I could stay with her for as long as I needed. I figured that maybe the pot was reacting with my meds, but then I realised that I’m not actually on any, so then I decided that maybe it was kicking back in the half trip I took in Wellington, although that was just a warm happy speedy smile trip at the time. My whole body was twitching involuntarily, so I thought maybe I was cold and got under the covers, but it kept going, and I was afraid to open my eyes in case of what I might see. Bo told me not to focus on the fact that Iw as having a bad trip, which of course meant that I could hardly think about anything else, except for the fact that i always end up dumping on her, and she has problems of her own. She tried to get me to keep drinking water, because I was getting dehydrated, but I couldn’t, because my breathing was too erratic, and because the water felt too weird sliding down my throat. Parts of my body would feel like they weren’t there anymore, so I’d reach to touch them and other parts would disappear. I tried to keep my hand on my stomach, so that I could concentrate on my breathing, but sometimes I couldn’t feel it. She told me that as I inhaled, I should feel like I was getting in goodness from the world, and as I exhaled that I was getting rid of the bad vibe, and I could visualise it very clearly. I asked Bo to keep talking to me for as long as she could, because she was calming, but at the same time, all conversation semeed like a strain. I just wanted to hear about puppies and kittens and soft things like that that can’t harm. She fetched my teddybear for me, talking while she left the room so that I wouldn’t be too scared. I was a fucking basketcase. All I could do was try to ride out the trip in the fetal position. I wanted something to sedate me, hospital styles, but I also thought that would be even more traumatic. I was just so afraid that I was permanently fried, what with the physical shakes, and the vision and the all that crap. Eventually Bo fell asleep, despite my constant twitchings, and I guess I dozed in and out. I woke up at one stage and felt totally blissfully happy, while being still rather shaken, and then went back to sleep until I woke up again, feeling normal, so I went to sleep in my own bed again. Dawn was breaking. I dunno if I’ve managed to convey the absolute fucking terror that i felt throughout the whole experience or not, but it was probably the scaredest that I have ever been. To be so completely out of control – the fact is that all I had taken was a little pot, which I had expected to just make me able to laugh at the Brady Bunch movie – to go from there to fearing that my friends were trying to fuck me up, and that the walls were melting, adn that I would be in a permanent state of fuckedupness, like my body had been infected with a computer virus like Pig in The Ecstasy Club, to be afraid to call Tom in case he made me feel crazier when I’m so used to calling him so he can talk me down from drunken misery styles – it was FUCKED UP. And I’m not going to be doing drugs again. I’m so fucking glad Bo was there – I have no idea what I would have done otherwise. Today I went and bought her assorted Cranberry paraphanalia (cran & blueberry juice, craisins and cranberry cracker sauce) but that’s just sheer tokenism. I still feel pretty fucking shakey though, and I’m so fucking tired of being damaged.