Citation: HR. "Stop It Before It Starts: An Experience with Cocaine (exp37003)". Erowid.org. May 23, 2007. erowid.org/exp/37003
||(powder / crystals)
I am a 17 year old Senior in high school. I take no prescription medications, and have dabbled with shrooms marijuana before.
Two and a half weeks ago, a longtime friend of mine called me and said that he had bought .5g of cocaine for me. I had never done coke before, but apparently I had expressed an interest in it to him at some point a while ago. Now, I wasn't too interested in buying it from him, but since he had bought it for me specifically (and .5g isn't that much and isn't overly expensive) I decided to get it. But, only after making him swear to me that he would not sell me any more for at least a month, since addiction is something I'd like to avoid, considering I was born with a very addictive personality.
So, on a wednesday night, alone in my basement, I cut this stuff up into three lines. It had a pleasing scent. Later, I learned that pure coke is odorless, so what I had was definitely cut with something. At about 10:30 PM I snorted the first line into my left nostril. It burned a bit, but only for a few seconds. After about a minute, I started to feel very warm, and was trembling quite a bit. Then, the cocaine started to drip down the back of my throat, which was the worst part of the whole ordeal. I wound up drinking about 5 cups of water throughout the night to vanquish the bitterness. My nose felt really clogged up, but at that point I was far too into the high to notice.
I have friends who'd done the stuff before, and mostly they wind up pacing constantly, never stopping moving, talking a mile a minute. However, their experiences were in social settings, whereas I was completely alone with only a big-screen TV to keep me company. My vision was beginning to blur a tiny bit, and I laid back on the couch. I felt incredibly warm, light and happy. Then, a whole lot of horniness. Like, rubbing up against inanimate objects and moaning horniness. I'm glad I was alone, as I don't think I could live down other people seeing me in that state.
In about thirty minutes, the feeling started to fade. Now, I was planning on doing the other two lines one at a time. But I felt the need for a stronger buzz, so I just waited an hour, combined the two lines I already had out and snorted it all up at once. This was where it got really intense. In about thirty seconds, I felt warmth washing over me in waves. I had a strong desire to get out of the house and walk around for a while. At this point, I was muttering incoherently to myself and walking in a very twitchy fashion. I just paced around on my back porch for about five minutes, feeling incredibly energetic and strong. I then returned to my basement, and laid down on my couch, once again rubbing up against stuff and moaning. In forty minutes or so, I was mostly out of it. I scraped the bag that the coke came in, and the surface that I snorted it on, and had myself another smallish line. This had comparatively little effect on me, but the buzz was definitely present. I smoked some pot and went to sleep at about 2 AM.
Two weeks later. At that point, I had been experiencing mild coke cravings, and for a couple days all I could think about was doing more. But willpower, coupled with a lack of funds, kept my desires in check. However, on a Thursday I came into a large sum of money. The guy who I'd bought it from told me there would be a whole lot of coke going around that weekend, and that he would lower the price of a gram to $50 just for me. Predictably, on Friday I bought a gram.
That night, I had planned on getting jacked and going to a party that a friend of mine was throwing. But, he called ahead and told me that I couldn't come due to the fact that his sister hates me (long story). I was with a friend, and considering we both had nothing to do now, we decided to go take a walk downtown. I thought that this would be a good time to do a line out of the gram I had bought earlier. My friend abstained. I blew it in his car, and we went for a walk.
I live in a reasonably sized town, and the downtown area is a small district full of old brick buildings, fancy restaurants and coffeehouses. My friend was walking along, bouncing a golf ball off walls and the sidewalk. I was walking at a very fast clip, frequently pausing for a few seconds so my friend (who will henceforth be called James) could catch up with me. I was feeling a bit paranoid, and kept telling James to stop bouncing the golf ball, because 'if it hits a car with an alarm, we're fucked!' He didn't stop, and it kind of annoyed me. But we just walked along like this, and I felt great. There was nothing better to me than just taking in the scenery, and I felt incredibly exhilarated and strong. After about 25 minutes, James and I were accosted by two evangelists. We listened to them talk for about fifteen minutes, thinking it too rude to just leave. In the end, they gave us some literature (which we wound up throwing away) and told us to keep our noses clean. At the time, I just thought of them as a couple of buzzkills, hassling teenagers for no apparent reason (I still have no idea why they picked us out to talk to). We walked back to the car, (by now I was pretty much baseline) and went home.
The next day, I woke up to a lawn that needed mowing. Time for cocaine! I blew a big line and mowed the whole damn lawn in under thirty minutes, feeling better than I ever had in my life. I felt no tiredness, just a single-minded desire to get the job done as fast as possible. It was great, and I wanted more. But, I decided to save that for later. In the meantime, I smoked some pot (which, compared to the coke, was kind of a drab experience) and hung out at the house until around 8 pm, when I got a call from James. Apparently, there was some kind of black heritage festival going on at a park downtown. This sounded like some fun, so James picked me up and off we went.
When we arrived downtown, I did another line, leaving me with about one more big line (a fat rock that I had not cut up yet). We quickly made a beeline for the festival, and it was packed. Literally, I had never seen that many people in that particular park before. The scent of cigar smoke and beer hung heavy on the air, and a good Parliament Funkadelic cover band was playing. All this made for a pretty good environment to be jacked up in. I, once again, could not stop moving, and I led James through the entire park in about fifteen minutes. We watched the band play for a little while longer, and then left for a coffee shop downtown. By the time we got there, the coke was wearing off. The coffee shop had a secure single-person bathroom. Not hard to think of what comes next, is it?
I wiped the side of the bathroom sink clean, and laid down the rock. I took about thirty seconds cutting it up, and then railed it. It was about the biggest line I had done up until that point. Feeling confident, I strode out of the bathroom and into the shop, where James was ordering a cheesecake. I started to walk towards him, and reached my hand up to stop a runny nose I was getting (I had accepted this as common by now). However, I looked down and noticed that it was not a runny nose but rather a bloody nose. A very bloody nose, almost gushing in fact, in the middle of a crowded coffee shop. I turned and walked back to the bathroom, trying to remain calm as I held my shirt up to absorb the streaming dark liquid. I ran into the bathroom, and stuffed toilet paper up my nose, scared shitless. What if someone noticed it? That was a lot of blood for a simple nosebleed. Mercifully, the nosebleed didn't last long, and I cleaned up and went back into the shop.
I ordered a water, and sat with James while he ate his cheesecake. All the while I was trembling like a hypothermia victim, talking as fast as a machine gun, and feeling like a million bucks. However, I was quite paranoid, and kept asking James how I looked to the point where he was almost annoyed. By the time we left the shop (about 10:05, five minutes after I had railed that last line), and got in the car, I felt total bliss. My senses were running on all cylinders. I was totally aware. Euphoria enveloped me. I thought that this is what being a God must be like.
That high lasted for about fourty minutes. The rest of the night was relatively uneventful, as I was out of coke and no one I saw for the rest of the night had any. By the time I got home (midnight), I felt like shit. My nose was burning, and it was clogged up with snot from all the sniffling I had been doing throughout the night. My body ached all over, and I had to take a piss every five minutes. That night, I thought long and hard about what those evangelists had said the night before. I am a religious person, but I never attend church and sin all I want (as evidenced by this writing). I kept thinking about all the experience reports I've read, about the straight-A students who wind up squatting in crackhouses, doing sexual favors for their next fix. I decided that this was not going to be me. So, from then on, I pledged to never do coke again. I got three of my best friends to swear that if I ever did it again, they'd forcibly take it from me. I prayed extensively, and went to sleep at 3 AM.
It's now the next day. I am feeling the need for more cocaine, but it still hasn't hit me fully yet. I don't doubt I'll be able to quit, but these next few weeks are probably going to be stressful. To anyone out there thinking of doing coke, I would strongly advise against it. The health risks are astronomical, the addiction is too powerful for most to wriggle out of, and no one wants to be a slave to a substance anyway. If it weren't for the experience reports and those two evangelists, I might be out buying more right now.
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