Citation: DGK. "Horrible Night Eye-Opening Ending: An Experience with Products - Spice and Synthetic Cannabinoids ('K2') (exp90525)". Erowid.org. Jun 3, 2011. erowid.org/exp/90525
K2… Oh lord K2. This whole event occurred 6 or 7 months ago, and yet I’m just now getting around to writing about it. It’s an experience that has caused me to think and re-think what may have happened, how I could have avoided it, or even how it has changed me mentally. One thing I know for sure – it was the most terrifying experience I’ve had to date. Sorry for the length, but I wanted everything documented.
(Note that I had been introduced to marijuana a year earlier and hadn’t done anything else other than tobacco).
I had experienced K2 a while before then, only not under the same brand name. I was at a party with a bunch of people and was looking to get high, as I did not like binge drinking or alcohol in general for that matter. Unfortunately, no one had any good herb with them that night including myself, except for one guy who had a few grams of Spice Gold with him. He plays a later role in this, so we’ll call him ‘N.’ N was a very heavy pot smoker for several years before this, and had recently gotten into the spice smoking scene. He didn’t go a day without a few bowls of spice in his system, so naturally he had brought his stash to the party. I’d heard about spice before then and knew it was a good alternative to marijuana, so I decided to get a gram for myself and a couple friends that night. I took 2 very small hits, since I wasn’t sure how it would affect me. I decided to stop since I still wanted to be socially functional, and I could already feel very light and airy, I was getting giggly fast also. The rest of the night went fine no problems, at one point I was convinced actually moonwalking from place to place, since I felt like my steps never hit the ground. I said some pretty ridiculous things about that but for the most part I just acted as normal as any high person would.
Shortly after the party I had gotten caught by my parents and had to stop smoking for a while, a good 2 or 3 months of nothing but oxygen going into my lungs. By that time though I was able to see people again, and was looking to get high. I wanted to get VERY high my first time coming back, almost as celebration. So, I called N up since I assumed he probably had some bud on him.
Training to become a professional stage performer, I had just finished working out and rehearsing for the day and made my way over to N’s house. When I finally got to his place, he was already mildly stoned. I was so anxious just to get high that I didn’t bother with changing out of my slightly damp and sweaty clothes, I figured it didn’t matter. I think this may have been my first mistake of the night, as you’ll see later. We then went to his room and got comfortable, I pushed his puppy out of the room as he pulled out his bong and baggie of herb. I immediately noticed that it wasn’t actually bud, and pointed that out. He just told me it was K2 and not to worry about it, he said just not to let his mom know. She was fine with us smoking weed in the house but was against Spice, since she said it was “not natural, it’s a chemical and not a plant.” Still determined to get really high, I told him to pack the tightest, meanest bowl he could. This was my second mistake.
We started at about 10pm. N handed me the bong and told me to take as huge a hit as I could. I did just that and went full force inhaling. The smoke had a very sweet aroma, almost like fruity pebbles. I really liked it. The smoke wasn’t very harsh and I held it for 15-20 seconds. I exhaled and noticed it almost had a greenish tinge to it. I thought it was interesting, and handed the bong to N for his hit. He took one, I took one, he took another and I took another. He took one last one, then stopped and looked at me. He said “there’s a little less than half the bowl left… you’re gonna torch all of it in one hit.” By that time I wasn’t feeling anything, and figuring “Hell, I just want to get super blazed,” I agreed. As I held the bong and ripped it hard, he torched the rest of the bowl. The hit was so large that it definitely burned my throat and lungs a little, but I didn’t think anything of it. I held it for even longer this time, probably 30-40 seconds, as I was starting to see stars. This is my third and biggest mistake. I exhaled very slowly and sat there, looking at N. He grinned sinisterly and said “You’re in for a hell of a night man.” I just chuckled and got up from his room. I wasn’t feeling anything and was actually feeling a little left out. He seemed really high and I still had yet to feel anything. Kind of disappointed, I stepped out into his living room and sat down. I knew it’d hit me later but was still just waiting for it. It was about 10:40pm by this time.
I pulled out my phone and began texting one of my friends, waiting for N to finish cleaning up and putting stuff away in his room. The girl I texted was a friend from my dance company but didn’t know that I smoked (I think this may also have had something to do with my night). As I pressed the send button on my phone I noticed that something was different. I couldn’t tell but I just felt strange, different than a weed come up. I told myself it was just K2 and that I’d done it before, it was no biggie, I just tried rolling with it. The feeling became stronger and stronger though, and I started to feel very anxious, fearful, and nervous. As the feeling got even stronger the thought passed that my mom would find out about me smoking. I instantly got scared but tried to think nothing of it, it was impossible to get in trouble at N’s house, unless someone decided to call the cops on us… so impossible.
It didn’t help. I got even more paranoid and nervous about the situation, I felt as though I was losing control of my hands and feet. They felt very far away, like they weren’t my own. I tried touching the couch, rubbing the textures, but felt nothing. My sense of touch was almost completely gone, and this really unsettled me. I couldn’t feel anything, other than a growing coldness all around me, and a cold wetness on me leg. I didn’t know what the wetness was and couldn’t figure it out, this also scared me. “This isn’t like weed at all,” I thought. Then the thought passed by that somehow my friend that I was texting would find out. This scared me even more, since I connected that with my company director finding out and kicking me out for doing drugs. I got very paranoid at this point and tried to touch even more things to get my sense of touch back, but everything felt blurred and just gone. I looked at my hands, and it was as if they were stretching further and further away from me, extending away from my body. I caught out of the corner of my eye movement and looked towards it. I saw N’s dog sitting next to my leg, licking it up and down. I was incredibly surprised by this, since I finally realized what the wet sensation was from, but I couldn’t tell how long he’d even been there, or how I hadn’t even noticed him come up to me in the first place. For some reason this just made me very uncomfortable, and I tried to kick him away.
After this N came back into the room, smiling. He looked at me and asked if I felt it yet. This was also strange, since N was to the left of me, but I thought his voice was coming from the right. I looked over in that direction and saw no one. I asked “Where is your voice coming from?” He looked at me and said it was just him. After that, he grinned again and said “Dude, you’re tripping balls.” He clapped a few times, and I thought the sound was coming from several different directions, everywhere but from him. He was laughing and started saying things like “Haha your hearing is messed up man! You’re fucked up!!”
(It probably did not help with the fact that N liked to “trip” people out by doing odd and sometimes scary things to mess with their psyche).
I realized then that I was way higher than I wanted to be, and was afraid I would spiral into a bad trip. Unfortunately even just the thought of bad trip planted the idea into my head, and its like it manifested itself there and grew larger and larger until it was all I could think about. “Bad trip, people finding out, trouble, oh shit” were the main thoughts in my head at the time. I was still trying very hard to stay out of a bad trip by thinking happy thoughts, and just trying to forget all the bad things I was thinking about, but to no avail. The only thing that I could think then was that if I openly admitted I was having a bad trip, then I would have one. As badly as I wanted N to help me with this, I knew that not only would he probably just freak me out more, but that I would spiral right down into a bad trip by admitting to it. This seemed incredibly important that I DO NOT admit I was having a bad trip.
“N… I… I don’t… I don’t think I can… hear you.” Was what came out of my mouth after that. He just looked at me and said “Dude you’re tripping out… just come back to my room.” I responded by saying “I don’t think I can.” He just turned around and went in. I slowly tried to stand up and found it incredibly difficult, like my body’s bones were taken out and I was left with my muscles only for support. I slowly walked, teetering and tottering my way back to N’s room. By this time the cold sensation filled my whole body. I felt like I was laying in snow, completely naked. It was a horrible feeling that wouldn’t go away. I tried to think about where it was coming from and finally attributed it to the fact that my shirt was slightly damp. It took all of my concentration to switch shirts, but even after that I still felt very, very cold. Then and there I decided I needed to just lie down. I lay down in his bed and covered up in 2 heavy blankets, and still I was freezing. I thought I was dying. It wasn’t the way that you may feel when you think you’re dying on a psychedelic, but it felt like my body was just failing on me, my organs were not working any further, it was just shutting down. I began to shake much like someone would during a seizure.
The entire time N was oblivious to my situation. I lay there, freezing, and shaking uncontrollably for another 10 minutes or so, thinking I was going to die, until I finally said something to N, I had to tell him what was up.
“I need blankets.” Was all that came out. N slowly looked over to me and right away looked kind of worried. (Later he would tell me that he literally thought I was having a seizure and contemplated calling 911, I was shaking that bad). He left the room to get more blankets and I instantly became lonely. More lonely than I’ve ever been, I just wanted him back in the room. I felt even more like I was dying. I had to tell him, I thought. I shouted his name loudly, probably loud enough for his mom to hear me.
He came rushing back in with a handful of blankets, asking what was wrong. I told him. “I think I’m having a bad trip man. I’m dying. I’m dying. I’m dying…” (I kept repeating that phrase until he interrupted). That was it, I finally admitted it. I was washed over with anxiety, fear, paranoia, terror. It was horrible. I grabbed the blankets and put them on, I now had 6 heavy blankets on me, and I was still cold. As I was putting them on N started laughing. “You’re fine just chill out” he said, but it didn’t help. He grinned at me again, and moved towards the light switch. This was a major bad move I think on his part, as he began flickering the lights on and off very quickly. I knew that he was trying to trip me out and just hid my eyes under the blankets, trying to ignore it. Even though my eyes were closed and I could only see the backs of my eyelids (note that it was all black, minus a few swirly colors and geometric shapes, as one would see if they closed they’re eyes tightly), but could somehow still sense when the lights would be on or off. Eventually N stopped and resumed his activity of playing Xbox.
From this point on I can’t remember much, other than the fact that I thought with every ounce of my inner self that I was dying, that I would be dead in the morning. I thought of calling my parents and telling them, or of telling my friends, but I couldn’t move. I had no control over my body. I was freezing as all hell, shaking like no other, under 6 blankets. This continued on for a while, until I felt an odd presence in my head. Like someone had stepped in and was trying to take control.
Without even thinking it, I said “N how long does this last.” He replied, bored, “I dunno like 45 minutes.” He then paid no attention to me. This was only slightly relieving, but it gave me something else to think about.
45 minutes. That’s all I focused on. I still thought I was dying, but that presence was still there, and clouded by that was the number 45. 45 minutes and this would be over. (I don’t know if it really was 45 minutes or not, but I did continue to suffer for a while.) My next memory was laying in the bed, no longer shaking or cold. Hot, actually. I was down to one blanket by this time. N was playing music and dosing, and I was lost in visual hallucinations. I couldn’t really see N’s room anymore, just barely visible outlines of things around me. What took focus was an overlying background on top of everything that would constantly change colors, and it seemed like pinpoint lasers were being shot everywhere. The music was just generic hip hop, but had an odd sound. The sound formulated into a being in the middle of the visuals… a floating chameleon, and out of its eyes he was shooting lasers. It was incredibly bizarre. I wasn’t thinking anything, just lost in what I was seeing.
I must have fallen asleep after this, since I woke up at around 3am with a DVD movie menu repeatedly replaying, N was fast asleep. I had control over my movements now and felt much better. I felt now like I was coming down from a peak of a weed high. I was hungry, thirsty, and awake. I put on another movie and left to get food and something to drink. I continued to gorge myself until the movie was over. I then had an overwhelming urge to listen to music. I ripped out my iPod and played a song I was familiar with by Sigur Ros. They’re music is soothing and I tend to listen to that a lot when I’m high on bud. I lay in the bed and listened with my eyes closed to the notes of the music.
I was amazed. I had a whole story with visuals thrown in right there in front of me. I imagined an entire choreographed piece to the song; specific numbers and looks of the people, specific movements, even a background story and concept. It was inspiring. I listened to it again, and I saw the same exact thing. I got up quickly from the bed, determined to write down what I saw in a notebook. I ended up staying awake all night, writing every last detail I saw. When I finished it was roughly 7am, and N’s mom was waking up. Oddly enough I had the strongest urge for coffee, and went and got some. After having some mild conversation with N’s mom and finishing my cup of coffee, I went back to the notebook and read what I had written. I was impressed by what I had accomplished, and at that point decided to reflect on my experience. I’m usually a very introspective and self critical thinker, so this was normal for me.
At the time I reasoned that I had probably done too much and wasn’t used to it. I shouldn’t have been texting anyone, and should have changed my clothes when I got there. But I realized something else, during my trip I truly thought I was dying, but I kept working mentally through it. I was trying my hardest to make it through my bad trip, since I knew N would be of no help. It was almost like I had gone and tried a psychedelic for a first time with no sitter - I only had myself to work with. I had been introduced to a very bad situation, and made it through using my own mental resources, and this realization was profound for me. For the next week or so I was glowing with self-accomplishment, and kept the attitude of “I can make it through anything, if I just put my mind to it.” Suffice to say the glowing feeling and attitude eventually died off, although for the next few weeks I direly needed coffee almost all day. If I went too long without a cup of coffee I would become irritable and not very functional.
I have not tried any Spice products since then, but have smoked more herb. I have become more and more interested in psychedelics only for spiritual and introspective reasons, mainly because of this experience. It was truly terrifying, and one of the worst experiences I’ve had to date, but in all I think it may have helped me and my mental strength.
I just caution others interested in K2 or Spice not to do more just to “get higher,” as what happened to me may happen to you if you overdose.
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