The Day I Almost Went Crazy Doing K2

By Daniel Stuart

I exhale the second toke as quickly as I can, but I know in that moment that the landing gears were being pulled up and I’m going for a ride that I will never forget. Once the drug has got you in it’s talons, the exit door can only be found at the end of the trip. If you make it that far.

My heart is racing, working overtime with no sign of slowing down, picking up speed every minute. My head is spinning. I need to lie down. I move as fast as I can, but time is slowing. During the short time it takes to make it to my bedroom the drug has already taken what I thought would be it’s most serious effect on me. I am wrong.

I’m getting scared. My mind is racing. Is this my house? What if the people who live here come back and ask me what I am doing? Do I belong here? And the ‘I’ part; who am I? I repeat my name over and over but I still can’t make any sense of why I am here.

Whose bed am I crawling into? Is that my book on the nightstand? I read? I see an arm lying beside me. It can’t be mine. And whose boots are those on the bed? I move my eyes and discover the boots are attached to legs. But whose? It seems that the only thing that belongs to me are these eyes. I am looking thru someone else’s head!

This isn’t true, I tell myself. This isn’t happening. My heart speeds up. I try to move. I try to wiggle a finger but I find not a single command works for any of the limbs I see lying here around me on the bed. They weren’t mine.

I try to control my breathing. My thoughts are running rampant. I’m starting to freak out. I’ve heard many stories about this same drug and not a one has ended with good results. I know where I’m heading. This is the day I lose.

I think about the historical significance that this day will hold for me and perhaps others. “Remember the day Uncle Daniel went crazy?”,  ”It was close to the same day ole Red lost his head,” “Sorry, my Dad can’t come to the phone right now, he went insane last week.” Not funny, Red!, I tell myself. It’s not helping the situation at all.

The world dims. This is my exit. I feel it coming and wonder how it will come about. Will I scare my family? I want the door locked so I can’t get out. Does it hurt when your heart explodes inside your chest? I’m thankful the door is unlocked but I don’t want any child to find me.

Breathe, Red!  It doesn’t have to be this way! Work your way thru it!  I tell myself that I’ll try but it may not be possible. I see the wall. It moves closer. It moves away. Near. Far. Near. Far.

I realize that somehow I have sat up on the edge of the bed. How? I am confused. I’m almost convinced that this really is not my body. But whose? It’s almost completely dark in my world now, which really scares me because when I had just been outside it was still daylight. Has it been that long? How long have I been in here? Will I ever come down?!

Will it kill me? Or worse, will I be the guy locked up in the insanatarium rocking back and forth, never remembering anything before that day? Never remembering the love and friendship that came from the people around me? Never remembering all the joy I shared with the numerous children in my life? Come back, man! Come back!

The room is getting smaller. It’s closing in.  I know that in order to save myself I need to spread it back out. I need to open the curtains.  Again, I can not find the right commands.

My heart rate triples.  My chest hurts.  My head is a carnival ride.

Water! I need water! The closest place is the bathroom. How will I make it there? Deep inside my head I know that I am not totally crazy yet.  I can do this.  With all my strength, I force my legs underneath of me.  My eyes head for the door so I assume that my body must be going with them, even tho I can not feel it move.

Somehow, I have made it through two doors and am now standing at the sink. The movement has, what I believe, quadrupled my heart rate.  I remember thinking that a mess would be easier to clean up here, in the bathroom, if my body does explode.

I feel cellophane.  I hear cellophane and realize that the sound, and the feeling, is coming from within my head.  I turn the water on.  Cold, cold water.  I cup my hands and drink as much as I can.  Then, I drink some more.  It’s not working.  I hold my wrists under the faucet and let the cool liquid run down over them with hopes of slowing down my blood flow.  It’s not working.

I refuse to look at myself in the mirror out of fear that whatever I see on the other side just might push me over the edge.  My body starts to shake.  The convulsions are unnerving.  I’m still trying to mentally talk myself out of it.  I think I can, but at that same moment I think that my thoughts are delusional. I feel that I am trying to talk myself out of talking myself into talking myself out of it.

I need comfort.  I need someone else to know what is happening just in case I do die, or worse, in case I lose my sanity.  Are there voices outside the room? They are not speaking any language that I understand.  Why am I in this house?  Am I at a neighbors or have I forgotten that I’ve taken a trip to a different world?  I decide to try anyway.

As I reach for the door knob, I catch myself wondering if I will be able to form words with my mouth, at all.  What language will I speak?  Will I speak the same words as the voices outside?  Am I just thinking in English?  It’s not real, I tell myself.

Breathe! Breathe!

After another soaking of my wrists under the cold water I open the door and yell the only name I can think of at the time.  A family member.  Amazingly she answers.  She comes into the bathroom with me and I tell her with thick lips and confused sentences what I have done.  What is happening?

She doesn’t freak out and that makes me feel better.   Offering to take me to the hospital, I refuse.  First, I say, let’s try something else.  What else?  I don’t know.  Cops and doctors tend to freak me out and on top of that I couldn’t imagine riding in a vehicle. Would I jump out? Would I cause her to have a wreck? I want to hurt no one. Not even if I don’t mean to.

I ask her to check on me every once in awhile and please keep the kids from coming in here.  They shouldn’t find me like this.  I don’t want to lock the door.  I might need someone from the outside to come inside.

I need to sit.  I rest on the edge of the tub and lean on the cool smooth sink. I breathe. Long deep breaths.

Finding a glass of milk in my hands, I think I have drawn it from the sink. Impossible! My mind goes back to a couple minutes ago that seemed so far away.  Graciously, she brought it to me because I could not go to the kitchen.

Knowing I was fighting a losing battle,  I didn’t want defeat to come while standing amongst the kids and other family members. I am still at the point where it could go in either direction.  Just a little push would send me over the edge.  I am still grasping at life and my sanity but I didn’t know for how long I can hang on.

Breathe.  Drink milk.  Breathe.  Run cold water over my wrists.  Breathe. Breathe!  Slow. Steady.  Deep breaths now.

Hearing the words being spoken out loud, I wonder who is speaking?  I am in alone. My thoughts are now audible to me.  My nerves are carrying the wrong message.  I’m still scared, but not as bad.  I have help now.

“Oranges,” she says. Something sugary, like oranges is what you need.  ”Oranges?,” I ask. “Sugar?”  She opens up a container of mandarin oranges, just a crack, and insist I drink the juice.  I believe her, so I do.  And turning on that fan will help.

My heart leaps. I am overjoyed because at that very moment what she is suggesting is what I desperately need but could by no means come up with any good ideas on my own. Trying to keep myself sane and breathing has taken up 100% of my thoughts.

Turning the knob, I stick my face in the fan.  It’s not working!  She flips a switch.  The blades turn forcing cool fresh air into my lungs.  I concentrate on deep breaths.  She opens up the can of oranges all the way and tells me to eat.  I will.  I will because she knows it’ll help.  I will because I know it’s helping.

I can breathe easier now. My heart still races and my head still spins, but I know now that the worst thing that will happen to me is death.  Not the insanity that I fear so much.  I know I don’t want to die, but I’ve seen people that have flipped out and it can’t be the greatest way to live.

I need more time.  The fan is helping.  The milk and the oranges are working.  I ask for more time in this room, not wanting to go back to the bedroom.  Not yet.  That’s where it all started to get dark.  Afraid that going back in the bedroom will cause me to spin back out of control.  I don’t want to lose ground.  I am granted as much time as I need and I spend it letting the fan help me take breaths.

Knowing now that I am coming down, I am very thankful for that and for the help I am given. I concentrate on talking myself into standing up and going back to my room.  What if the bathroom is needed by someone else? But, I don’t want to leave the fan.  I feel it’s my lifeline.  I take deep breaths and try to think.

It’s odd how tired I feel even though my heart is still racing. I remember a fan in my bedroom. I still have the glass of milk and container of mandarin oranges in my hands so I stand and cautiously but quickly make my way there.  I make it.

I pull the fan onto the bed and lay down in front of it.  I feel better now.  I use my mind to make myself go to sleep.  I don’t want to stay awake.  I can’t anyway.

The experience has taken it’s toll on me.  I drift out and only come to when she comes in to check on me, when she softly whispers to see if I will still awaken.  I thank her.  She has done more than neccessary to help me survive.

She tells me not to do that again.  I promise.

I sleep.

Afterthought:  I am scared, again.  Not for myself, but for kids.  This stuff is sometimes being sold openly, in stores, and it shouldn’t be.

I think of my son and all the kids I know, and even the kids I don’t know.  What if this had been one of them?  What if they smoke it and can’t handle it?

Tears come to my eyes as I think about a child going through what I just went through and not having the mental or physical strength to get them out the other side.

I was scared.  Man, was I scared.  I love kids too much and certainly never want them to experience this.

Synthetic marijuana needs to be destroyed before it takes a whole generation of people down with it.


Comments

The Day I Almost Went Crazy Doing K2 — 9 Comments

  1. Another scary thing that can happen without you suspecting it – a young woman I know well once bummed a cigarette off a stranger and it turned out to be laced with PCP – it was horrible for her – really awful – and my young sons bum cigs all the time – wish I could stop their addiction to cigs, for sure

    • We’ve heard several reports from people who thought they were smoking real marijuana, only to suddenly experience “the trip from hell.” They later found out that the marijuana was laced with synthetic cannabinoids. The authorities have also reported to us that they have discovered cases where real marijuana was laced with synthetic cannabinoids.

  2. my husband and i are hooked on this stuff. we have been doing it for 3 long years. first started as a way to get around piss tests, now we cant seem to live without it. we spend our mortgage money any extra money we can find. we have had to borrow money to pay bills. this is really embarassing. i am 46 years old and know better. we need to get off this stuff – but find it almost impossible, we go thru deathly ill detox, headaches, vomiting its really bad. just like a heroin withdrawl. we sent this stuff to johns hopkins and it came back analyzed as having heroin properties–! geez, wonder why we cant quit. the other bummer is we have been pot heads for over 30 years and now pot does not phase us. we have to get clean from the fake stuff for the real stuff to work..and thats the problem. i dont know what will become of us if we cant take control of our lives very soon.

  3. I heard all the hype about this compound sucastnbe and decided that I would try it out. I read reviews and say hey is legal and well why not. My wife and I sat down and decided it would be a good idea to try smoking the so called leagal weed. I took one hit from the stuff and immediately started feeling the effects. After about ten seconds my heart rate accelerated to a threatening level to where I stoped breathing and almost went into cardiac arrest. I told my wife to call 911 because I was starting to pass out. was then paralyzed and my wife reported unresponsive. I remember coming to and getting up trying to walk it off. This was one of the most painful things that I have experienced in my entire life. This stuff is poison and needs to be outlawed immediately. There is nothing natural about this. Just bad news get rid of it I almost died yesterday from smoking what they call Kush. Aka k2 .

  4. Current iteration of section of S.3187 in regards to synthetic marijuana:

    Subtitle D–Synthetic Drugs

    SEC. 1151. SHORT TITLE.

    This subtitle may be cited as the ‘Synthetic Drug Abuse Prevention Act of 2012’.

    SEC. 1152. ADDITION OF SYNTHETIC DRUGS TO SCHEDULE I OF THE CONTROLLED SUBSTANCES ACT.

    (a) Cannabimimetic Agents- Schedule I, as set forth in section 202(c) of the Controlled Substances Act (21 U.S.C. 812(c)) is amended by adding at the end the following:

    ‘(d)(1) Unless specifically exempted or unless listed in another schedule, any material, compound, mixture, or preparation which contains any quantity of cannabimimetic agents, or which contains their salts, isomers, and salts of isomers whenever the existence of such salts, isomers, and salts of isomers is possible within the specific chemical designation.

    ‘(2) In paragraph (1):

    ‘(A) The term ‘cannabimimetic agents’ means any substance that is a cannabinoid receptor type 1 (CB1 receptor) agonist as demonstrated by binding studies and functional assays within any of the following structural classes:

    ‘(i) 2-(3-hydroxycyclohexyl)phenol with substitution at the 5-position of the phenolic ring by alkyl or alkenyl, whether or not substituted on the cyclohexyl ring to any extent.

    ‘(ii) 3-(1-naphthoyl)indole or 3-(1-naphthylmethane)indole by substitution at the nitrogen atom of the indole ring, whether or not further substituted on the indole ring to any extent, whether or not substituted on the naphthoyl or naphthyl ring to any extent.

    ‘(iii) 3-(1-naphthoyl)pyrrole by substitution at the nitrogen atom of the pyrrole ring, whether or not further substituted in the pyrrole ring to any extent, whether or not substituted on the naphthoyl ring to any extent.

    ‘(iv) 1-(1-naphthylmethylene)indene by substitution of the 3-position of the indene ring, whether or not further substituted in the indene ring to any extent, whether or not substituted on the naphthyl ring to any extent.

    ‘(v) 3-phenylacetylindole or 3-benzoylindole by substitution at the nitrogen atom of the indole ring, whether or not further substituted in the indole ring to any extent, whether or not substituted on the phenyl ring to any extent.

    ‘(B) Such term includes–

    ‘(i) 5-(1,1-dimethylheptyl)-2-[(1R,3S)-3-hydroxycyclohexyl]-phenol (CP-47,497);

    ‘(ii) 5-(1,1-dimethyloctyl)-2-[(1R,3S)-3-hydroxycyclohexyl]-phenol (cannabicyclohexanol or CP-47,497 C8-homolog);

    ‘(iii) 1-pentyl-3-(1-naphthoyl)indole (JWH-018 and AM678);

    ‘(iv) 1-butyl-3-(1-naphthoyl)indole (JWH-073);

    ‘(v) 1-hexyl-3-(1-naphthoyl)indole (JWH-019);

    ‘(vi) 1-[2-(4-morpholinyl)ethyl]-3-(1-naphthoyl)indole (JWH-200);

    ‘(vii) 1-pentyl-3-(2-methoxyphenylacetyl)indole (JWH-250);

    ‘(viii) 1-pentyl-3-[1-(4-methoxynaphthoyl)]indole (JWH-081);

    ‘(ix) 1-pentyl-3-(4-methyl-1-naphthoyl)indole (JWH-122);

    ‘(x) 1-pentyl-3-(4-chloro-1-naphthoyl)indole (JWH-398);

    ‘(xi) 1-(5-fluoropentyl)-3-(1-naphthoyl)indole (AM2201);

    ‘(xii) 1-(5-fluoropentyl)-3-(2-iodobenzoyl)indole (AM694);

    ‘(xiii) 1-pentyl-3-[(4-methoxy)-benzoyl]indole (SR-19 and RCS-4);

    ‘(xiv) 1-cyclohexylethyl-3-(2-methoxyphenylacetyl)indole (SR-18 and RCS-8); and

    ‘(xv) 1-pentyl-3-(2-chlorophenylacetyl)indole (JWH-203).’.

    A few changes to this would plug every hole that there is allowing them to continue to push these drugs. Ftr, I used to work for a synthetic marijuana company. I’m one of the people who spoke up and helped the DEA with logjam. Anyways. My proposed amendments:

    Change the definition of cannabimimetic agent to: any substance which mimics the effects of a cannabinoid.

    Change (d)(1) to the following: Unless listed in another schedule, any material, compound, mixture, or preparation which contains any quantity of cannabinoids (ie; tetrahydrocannabinol ((THC)), cannabimimetic agents (a substance which mimics the effects of cannabinoids ie; JWH-018), a pro-drug for a cannabimimetic metabolite (a substance which is not a cannabimimetic agent or a cannabinoid but is metabolised into one in vivo ie; AM-404), that increases the levels of endogenous cannabinoids (cannabinoids which occur naturally in the body ie; 2-arachidonoylglycerol) through Fatty Acid Amise Hydrolase inhibition or manipulation of any other enzymatic process and/or expresses activity on the CB1, CB2, GPR18, GPR55 and/or GPR 119 receptors and/or which contains their salts, isomers, and salts of isomers whenever the existence of such salts, isiomers, and salts of isomers is possible within the specific chemical designation.

    • Terry, we’re happy that you switched to our side! We prefer federal legislation that mimics Illinois law, which is proving to be effective. It bans any chemical that is sold as a drug if it is not regulated by the FDA. It’s basically a labeling and packaging amendment to our current food, cosmetic and drug legislation. This type of legislation will cover any chemical, not just cannabinoids. Without blanket legislation, there will always be some chemical that doesn’t fall under a ban.

  5. well honestly if these symptoms happen to affect you , you are smoking at an uncontrolled rate , but clearly its a way safer alternative then marijuana , i mean think about it and how society and the actual smokers well look a it. 1. it cost at least 70% less then marijuana and 2 the high is wayyyyyyyy more intense. so in reality it makes sense why the fuck would you spend 20$ for a gram when you can spend 10$ for 5 grams that well sit you on your ass? Sadly this is what this generation has gotten to like it or not , these manufactures well keep changing the structure of the chemical compound found to get you high in potpourri or spice , no matter what the name it well always be synthetic marijuana.
    anyways this is my input, 16 years old , spice addict survivor haha xD

  6. Very dangerous. I like to smoke but this created and undescribable anxiety paranoid feeling. Would hate to witness someone unaware of what they are smoking or someone who can’t handle it. Scared, impending feeling of doom and I’m a normal guy never had anxiety before but now I tend to get that high heartbeat anxiety feeling with no idea of what to do other than try and ride it out. Just thinking I’m ready to shut it off now but its not that easy. Very very dangerous stick to natural.

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *

You may use these HTML tags and attributes: <a href="" title=""> <abbr title=""> <acronym title=""> <b> <blockquote cite=""> <cite> <code> <del datetime=""> <em> <i> <q cite=""> <strike> <strong>