So, I just thought I'd post this as a little anecdotal bit.
Back in 5th grade I was a kid who was totally afraid of drugs. I'd listen to every word our DARE cop told us with a dead serious demeanor. My 5th grade self knew that if I dared defy this TRUTH I would end up dead in the gutter somewhere. I even won my school's DARE essay contest. I still have the medal. I wrote about how great the DARE program is for teaching kids to just say no, and how DARE prevents drug use.
Little did my 5th grade self know, I was totally wrong. Looking back on it, it all seems a bit silly.
I kept my DRUG FREE attitude on into middle school. Truth was, all that propaganda actually scared me. I wasn't stupid, I was just niave. In health class I'd nervously thumb ahead into the sections of the textbooks about the evils of "Angel Dust" and "Acid". I thought the logic was infallible. Nothing called Acid can be good, right?
Right?
Even on into my freshman year of High school, I had never considered touching alcohol, and I believed that "weed" would kill me instantly and make holes in my brain. Again, when I look back on stuff like this, I can't believe I was that sheltered as a child.
So fast-forward a year. I've been diagnosed with Clinical depression. I'll spare you the sob story. Let's just say it was combination of lots of shitty circumstances. My attitude had changed from bright, bubbly freshman to a pissed-off, brooding sophomore. If you ever watched ECW, and are familiar with Raven, it was just like that, but with less facial hair.
Of course, we all know kids in high school who claim they are depressed. Mostly, the reasons for it are because they got grounded for two weeks, or because they want attention. They say things like "My parents caught me drinking and grounded me, I'M GOING TO KILL MYSELF NOW." Yes, those people exist in droves. However, I was the kind of depressed you only see in movies. The "wake up at 8, get out of bed at 11" kind. The kind of depressed that made me honestly want to (and eventually attempt to) end my life.
then, it was homecoming. I didn't have a date, naturally. I hated myself, of course. I was angry at the world in my teenage way. Little did I know, something I saw on Fox News that day would change my life forever, positively.
Ironic.
It was a scare report about teenage kids abusing Cough Syrup. The reporter looked and sounded worried, and the broadcast was filled with pictures of Robotussin bottles, dark club music, and pasty teens with too much acne wearing dark clothes talk about "Robotripping." Fox News told me about how it would melt holes in my brain, and make my liver melt.
On any other day, I would have shrugged it off, and continued on to the dance. Today was different though. Today I was especially depressed. Today I decided I was going to Robotrip.
I don't know exactly what made me turn to drugs. Maybe it was rebellion. Maybe it was boredom. Maybe it was some "higher calling". Hah. See what I did there?
So, instead of going to homecoming dateless, I drove a block down the street to my local CVS pharmacy. Fox News said I could buy this without having to provide an ID, so I figured I was in the clear. I walked into the CVS and right back to the Cough and Cold section. Of course, Fox News didn't give dosing information, and I hadn't thought to look it up, so I decided to buy a 12 oz bottle of Robotussin.
I walked up to the cashier, and confidently placed the bottle on the counter, all by itself. The kindly old lady behind the counter said "Will that be all?"
With those four words, my nerves almost snapped. I tried to stammer yes, but ended up just nodding at her. She knew. She HAD to know. I was going to jail. I was going to get kicked out of my house. I was going to be sent to rehab.
She nodded at me and scanned the Robotussin. I couldn't believe my luck. I handed her a 20 and nervously yelled "KEEP THE CHANGE" and power-walked out the door.
Okay, fine. I ran.
So, I drive to the Lowes, which is right next to the CVS. I'm sitting in the parking lot, holding this big bottle of meds. There is a big sticker on it that says "PARENTS: STOP TEEN MEDICINE ABUSE" I smirk to myself. I was so cool. I undo the childproof cap (after a bit of struggle) and remove the seal to be greeted by the awful smell of 12 oz of dark purple, vomit-inducing goop. I started to have second thoughts. I wondered if it would hit me so hard I couldn't drive home. Then I remembered the best advice anyone has every given me.
Do it Faggot.
So I did it. I drank the entire bottle of syrup. All 12 oz, in one disgusting throwing back of my head. My whole body shook violently. It was awful. It's still awful, even after 60 or so trips.
I remembered one of those pale kids who wore dark clothes telling Fox News that you had to throw up for it to work. I drove home, and casually walked to my upstairs bathroom. I was not going to drink all that shit in vain.
I spent what was probably 30 minutes trying to force myself to throw up. It didn't happen. I know a lot of you reading this will doubt this, but I assure you. I have an iron stomach. Needless to say, I was incredibly upset. I was disappointed. If I didn't throw up, it wasn't going to work. I had drank all that crap for nothing. Dammit.
I walked dejectedly into my bedroom and sat down on my laptop, and carried on as I normally do. Surfing the web until eventually collapsing in boredom. For some reason, I decided not to do a web search about Robotripping. I wonder why.
hah. 'Higher' Power.
I learned that night you don't need to throw up to Robotrip. It hits you hard, out of nowhere. One minute, you're totally sober. Then, you look at your hands and say "When the hell did these get here?" Really, you feel that way about your entire body, or I did anyway. I looked at my hands, waved them around in front of my face, and realized they are the same as my feet. I stood up and coma-danced to Nirvana. Moving felt wonderful, for once. My vision got blurry, as it tends to with Robotussin. I loved it. I felt great, for the first time in years.
Fast forward to now, and I've learned quite a few more things, and experienced dozens more. On the negative side, I've been through breakups, hospitalizations, a suicide attempt, deaths, and loss of friends. On the positive side, I'm finally out of the tunnel I've spent a majority of my life so far in.
I learned that the psychedelic chemical in Robotussin is called DXM.
I learned that on 24 oz doses of Robotussin, I start to experience the past and the future at the same time.
I learned that psychedelic plants and chemicals have been used for religious sacrament for millions of years.
I learned that Ayahuasca could save my life.
I learned how to speak two different langauges.
I learned how to meditate.
I learned the importance of keeping my spirit healthy.
Looking back on all this, it seems rather silly. To say that getting off on DXM changed my life that much. It wasn't just that first Trip. It didn't open the doors of my perception, but simply knocked politely, and asked if I was allowed in.
Turns out, I was.
-------------------- It's a trip, it's got a funky beat, and I can BUG OUT to it.
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