Citation: Alex. "Stuff Called Skunk: An Experience with Cannabis (exp7250)". Erowid.org. Feb 19, 2003. erowid.org/exp/7250
I am a frequent user of marijuana.
By this I mean at least one or two bowls a day. I do believe that this has somewhat allowed my body to build up a tolerance to weed, but this was certainly not the case with this event.
One bright and sunny afternoon, I found myself driving to my friend's house for a casual afternoon smoke. When I got there, I found that all of my other friends were there also, in the process of opening up a keg of beer, although I drank very little since I generally do not enjoy being drunk nearly as much as being high.
Anyway, I sat down at a table of fellow smokers, and one of my friends passed me a spliff (cone shaped joint with both marajuana and tobacco). I hit the spliff moderately hard, not really wanting to take a big lungfull of tobacco, but certainly felt the THC soaking into my lungs.
Within minutes, a different friend busted out a normal size bong, and proceeded to stuff it with weed, 'This stuff is called Skunk,' he told me, 'because of how much it smells... not quite as good as hydro, but it aint no shwag. That's what's in that spliff also.'
After taking a hit himself, he passed the bong to me, and I took a moderate hit although it was not very well lit. After taking another trip around the circle, the bong returned to my hands, and I wasn't feeling very high at all. Determined to get blazed, this time I took the biggest hit possible.
Shortly after, I keeled over, putting my head down on the table and shoving the bong to the person next to me.
'Dude, you didn't even clear the chamber,' he said, although I wasn't really paying attention.
My body felt like a live current was being run through it, and every time I tried to take in a little breath, my lungs started to convulse and for a while, I thought that I was going to choke to death. I couldn't open my eyes because every time I tried, the power of my vision flooded into my skull like a huge waterfall that pounded me like an anvil.
Almost everyone asked me if I was doing alright (good to know that I have friends like that) to which I nodded yes every time.
Eventually I was able to mutter, 'w...water...', and within seconds, one of my friends had brought me a glass. I tried to drink some to clear out my throat, but each time I tried, my lungs started convulsing again.
Eventually, I forced myself to get up, open up my eyes, and take the glass of water inside where I found a couch to crash on. I laid on that couch for maybe an hour, every now and then muttering, 'Oh my God...' Later the next day, my friends would tell me that I kept saying unintelligible things that made absolutely no sense.
I was still coughing about every other breath, but I managed to slowly adjust to drinking water, and eventually had enough control over myself to leave and drive back home. I took the mega-hit at around 4 PM. I was still feeling high at 9 PM. For some of you, that's a normal days work, but for a daily smoker like me, that's absolutely incredible.
The rest of my day was excellent actually, after I regained motor skills (that is, without feeling an overpowering force that drove me to the ground), I went and had an absolutely delicious dinner (everything tastes better to me while high), and just enjoyed everything.
My overall message is this: No matter how messed up I get, it'll be OK in the end as long as I remember that and don't get paranoid, and in the end, the good times will outweigh the bad.
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