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Story of an addict


shroomy

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I wish I could write this well, but I can't. So I just copied it from another board..........

It started normally enough, dabbling in reality here and there interspersed with numerous raves and scheduled substances. I was just as innocent as any of you. At first I could handle going to school, having a job, going out and doing normal everyday non psychedelic drugs for entertainment, like going to coffee with friends, while at the same time keeping my life as a raver/psychonaut together. I did this every once in a while, but as time progressed, I found I was doing 'that reality thing' more and more, and it was taking over my life and really starting to interfere with my raving priorities. I didn't know it at the time, but my 15 year old candy kid friends tell me that I was becoming withdrawn and even "square". I didn't even notice the personality shift. I thought it was everyone else that was being an asshole. I was wrong. This downward spiral into real life continued. I lost drug connections, couldn't keep tabs on the scene or tabs in myself, I no longer knew the latest Tidy Trax release, and I started to do things like calculus to fill the time that I would have spent high before. The stupidest part is that all the while I didn't think anything was really wrong. Real life is like that, it sucks you in and you stop paying attention to the things that really matter, such as cuddle puddles and tracers.

I finally realized that I had hit rock bottom when I looked at my surroundings and saw that I was in a university classroom listening to a teacher talk about wave oscillations, and the worse was that I understood it. I think at that point, I could have even passed a drug test, but I dont know for sure. I don't really know anything of that time, it was just a constant binge of studying, work, and sleeping patterns that were set in stone and held me in like a trap. Even then though, if it hadn't have been for one chance event, I probably wouldn't have pulled myself out of my slump, and I would probably still be stuck in the iron maw of keenerism and the 9-5 lifestyle.

I think it was fate that saved me. Fate that of all the drinks that that unknown and unnamed man could have spiked, he picked mine. There I was, having a nutritious meal of soy and flour in a crowded cafeteria, drinking my Happy Planet fruit juice, when I realized I was feeling different. As I finished my drink I felt stranger and stranger, but at the same time familiar. Suddenly it dawned on me. I was on GHB. Someone had spiked my drink for whatever reason. I was high again.

I thanked God then, and I thank God now.

I had forgotten what it was like to be high, and looking back, I find it hard to believe that I ever forgot what it's like to have tryptamine alkaloids flowing through your cranial cavities, feeling the rush of psychedelia, the call of hyperspace. I had been dragged out of the pit that is reality.

After that euphoric night of rediscovery, I set out to find my roots again. I purchased a half oz of shrooms, a full page of blotter and a bag of dank the size of a basketball. I locked the door of my room, and prepared for reality withdrawal. It wasn't going to be an easy journey, but I knew I could make it with a little help from my friends. I get high with a little help my friends, get by with a little help from my friends.

At first the withdrawal was intense. I had to fight every urge to crack my books, and the CNN.com webpage was calling my name, urging me back to the other side of life, the side I was trying to reject once and for all. I'll spare you the horrific details of withdrawal psychosis and escape, but eventually I made it back to where I am today, that is, high as a kite. I fought tooth and nail against the very fibre of my being.

That's a very abridged version of my story and my experiences.

Now, gentle reader, you might have heard that reality is a fun thing to try, maybe once or twice, just for fun, to see what all the fuss is about. After all, more than 75% of the population is hooked, right? Well, I tried it once, twice, and suddenly I found I was addicted. I got sent onto a ride through the 9 circles, but I made it out alive. I'm glad that now I finally know where my priorities lie, that is, pounding electronica music and psychoactive substances. I guess everything I've experienced has made me what I am today, and since I am who I am today I dont really regret anything, but I wouldn't recommend going on the voyage I did. You can lose your entire life and friends to reality. Try it if you want, but know that you're toying with a dangerous and addictive lifestyle. Keep your monster on a leash.

As for me now though, I'm going to have to utterly cut reality out of my life. I know that if I even go back for a peek I could end up as another hole brained addict on The Street, and I don't want that to happen again. I might not make it out again next time.

But if you'll excuse me, I'm rushing. Will you be my best friend?

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