![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
transpao*sigh* it seems that every few years the memories get a little to stale, and I see so many other people who really really seem to enjoy it. They wrap their lives in it. They talk about how calm it makes them. How warm and fuzzy the world becomes.
You see every few years I forget that whatever pot does to everyone else... It doesn't do that to me.
Ye gods, at the shear terror and panic. I can never seem to explain vividly enough the absolute horror that fills my world when I get high. I've never met another soul that understands me when I talk about it. The blank stares... they always seem to think I'm joking... or the excuse always gets made that it must have been laced.
I wish. But no. This is the 3rd time. 1st with another friend, 2nd with a whole group, and 3rd with one other friend; none of them had any adverse effects except that they had to have my totally tripped out ass ruining their buzz.
I keep thinking that somehow if I say terror enough it will somehow convey for a second the actuality. It doesn't ever seem to work. I wish there was someone I could think really understood. But even the people who say they have panicked or got paranoid on pot... never have the look in their eyes. I know that what they felt wont wake them up weeks later in a cold sweat.
I wish I could just have a normal reaction. Jeeze. Everyone seems to love the stuff or at least sorta enjoy it. Everyone else seems to giggle and have fun, and be all relaxed. Instead I seem to get not just fear but Fear. The feeling of being trapped and terrified. Like my whole essence is being swallowed up by oblivion. Twitching and shaking uncontrollably. and so much more I could never even explain.
You see every few years I forget that whatever pot does to everyone else... It doesn't do that to me.
Ye gods, at the shear terror and panic. I can never seem to explain vividly enough the absolute horror that fills my world when I get high. I've never met another soul that understands me when I talk about it. The blank stares... they always seem to think I'm joking... or the excuse always gets made that it must have been laced.
I wish. But no. This is the 3rd time. 1st with another friend, 2nd with a whole group, and 3rd with one other friend; none of them had any adverse effects except that they had to have my totally tripped out ass ruining their buzz.
I keep thinking that somehow if I say terror enough it will somehow convey for a second the actuality. It doesn't ever seem to work. I wish there was someone I could think really understood. But even the people who say they have panicked or got paranoid on pot... never have the look in their eyes. I know that what they felt wont wake them up weeks later in a cold sweat.
I wish I could just have a normal reaction. Jeeze. Everyone seems to love the stuff or at least sorta enjoy it. Everyone else seems to giggle and have fun, and be all relaxed. Instead I seem to get not just fear but Fear. The feeling of being trapped and terrified. Like my whole essence is being swallowed up by oblivion. Twitching and shaking uncontrollably. and so much more I could never even explain.
