I don't usually do much thinking before a blog post, but I thought a lot about this one. I'm still thinking about whether I should post it, and I probably won't know until I finish writing it, but I might as well give it a go. Some of my family reads this blog but even I'm not sure exactly who. It's a little strange writing about my first experience trying a hard drug knowing that I have various uncles and aunts reading this, as well as friends of my parents. My father doesn't matter - I've always been able to talk to him about stuff like this.
But if I take that into account, and let it stop me from posting something I want to, it will completely defeat the point of even having this blog. (The point is to be able to write about whatever I want, and feel kind of happy if people like it.)
I don't have a moral stand against drugs. I think it's a personal choice. Long ago, after a lot of reading and research and conversations with my parents - yup, even my mother - I made a list of drugs I knew I would never touch, never ever, and drugs that I definitely wanted to try once. The drugs I will never try include heroin and acid. Actually they include pretty much anything that isn't cocaine. I always wanted to try cocaine. Just once. Mainly because I learnt that the high doesn't last long. The thought of tripping out on something for hours on end terrifies me.
Anyway, cocaine never happened to come my way and I didn't particularly go out in search of it. But everyone knows that bizarre things happen when you least expect them to, and that's part of the reason they're bizarre.
I really like the word bizarre. Bizarre. Biz-arrrre. Okay. Moving on.
I went to someone's house yesterday after work. Never mind who it was. There were three people there. One person I'm very close to, and I love her very much. The other two, I didn't know. I'm just going to call them 1, 2 and 3. 1 is the person I know, 2 is the person whose house it was, and 3 is...well, the third person.
Anyway, we were sitting around and I was feeling quite social so I was actually talking to them, and I was at my charming best. 1 was amazed - she thinks I hate her friends (true) and so she's never seen me talk to them before, I usually just stare blankly at them. But 2 and 3 seemed pretty okay and I felt comfortable around them.
Anyway, at some point 3 asked me whether I've ever done drugs.
"Not a hard drug," I said. "I've always wanted to try cocaine though but it hasn't really come my way yet."
At this point all three of them burst out laughing.
"What?"
"Look to your right."
And I looked, and I swear that it's a miracle my eyes are still in their sockets, I could actually feel them pop. There was coke on the table next to me.
1 and 2 don't do coke. 3 does. It was 3's coke. 3 asked whether I wanted to try it.
It was in front of me and I was looking at it and I didn't realize that it's possible to think ten different thoughts simultaneously but I did.
And then I asked all kinds of questions - where was it from, were they sure the quality was good, would I be able to carry on drinking after, would that be safe, what if I flipped out, I didn't want to lose control, etc.
"Just try a line," said 3. "A line should be fine. It won't hit you hard."
And then I just thought to myself, fuck it, Trisha, you've always wanted to try it once, if there are consequences, just man up and deal with them.
So I stuck the little pipe up my right nostril and inhaled a line. It went through my nose and I could taste it in my throat. It tasted like this nutritional powder thing - for the life of me, I can't remember the name - we used to eat before swimming competitions when I was in school.
I started feeling something almost instantly. Like I'd had about three drinks instead of just half, but it wasn't quite that either. It was strange, and yet, not strange. Not uncomfortable at all, no. I felt mellow and relaxed, but at the same time everything felt slightly sharper. I felt that if I concentrated on something, I'd really be able to concentrate on it, but just then, I didn't want to and that was okay. It didn't cause any behavioural changes. I was completely normal for the rest of the evening.
3 offered me a second line, but I decided against it.
Then something happened, hours later, but I'm not sure if it was the vodka or the cocaine. I was quite drunk and I wanted to throw up. This happens to a lot of people when they drink a lot, but it very rarely happens to me. And I was more drunk than I usually am on the same number of vodkas. But that could also have been because I haven't been drinking much lately.
Anyway, I was tired and I had work the next day. I decided to go to bed. 1 tucked me in (haha) and I said good night and went to sleep in a very civilized manner.
Woke up with the worst goddamn hangover I've ever had. I wonder if that had something to do with the coke - like I said, it's not like I drank an unusual amount. Anyway I staggered home at 8 in the morning because I wanted a shower, felt tempted to inform my mother (who's visiting) about the fact that I'd tried it but decided I didn't want the crockery hurled at me, and then went to work.
I'm going to tell her eventually though. Not right now. Maybe in a few months. But I'll tell her.
I told Pill about it when he came online. Pill - and oddly enough this is one of the things I love best about him - is a very self controlled person. He enjoys drinking, and he's great fun to drink with, but he doesn't smoke cigarettes, doesn't smoke up, and would never ever touch any sort of drug. Anyway, I could tell Pill didn't like that I'd done it though he didn't lecture me or anything. What made me uncomfortable was this:
While talking to him, I realized that I didn't know whether I was going to do it again or not. I always told myself that I would try it, and now I had tried it, but would I do it again? I'd had a very mild experience, what would a stronger one be like? And I felt extremely discomfited by the fact that I was considering doing it again, but since I'm not morally against it, I couldn't understand why I was discomfited. So what if I was at some party and it was offered to me? Why shouldn't I do it again if it came my way?
I thought about this for a long time.
Then I spoke to MWF. I'd noticed that I'd texted him the night before and asked him to call me, and I felt slightly annoyed that he hadn't.
"I'm sorry I drug texted you," I joked.
"You also drug dialled."
"What? I don't remember calling. I saw the text I sent you, but we didn't speak."
"Are you crazy? We did. I called you. We talked for like fifteen minutes."
"About what?"
"I couldn't make out half the shit you were saying."
"Oh."
And then, a little later, he said, "You sounded exhilarated."
"I'm not sure if I'm ever going to do it again. Maybe once was enough."
"Balls," he said.
"Why?"
"You sounded like something you'd wanna sound like again."
And that is the moment when I made my decision. It's a decision I still can't rationalize, although I'm going to try, but it's been made. And, in a way, it's been made for me by a gut feeling, by an instinct. I've had this gut feeling before, about important things, and it's never let me down.
Once was enough. I will never do cocaine again.
On a side note, I'm moving to Bangalore. But I'll talk about that later.
Also, I don't know whether it's possible to be arrested for this given that consumption of cocaine is illegal. So what does documenting consumption lead to? Apart from potential hell from irate readers. But taking all those things into account, if they happen to occur, then I would like to state here and now, that this post is a lie, this blog is a lie, my life is a lie, and I am a lie. So there.
Postscript (29.6.2013): I just told my mother about it. She didn't flip or hurl things at me, she just said that she trusted the fact that I won't ever do it again. My mother drives me insane sometimes, but I can always talk to her about things that matter.
But if I take that into account, and let it stop me from posting something I want to, it will completely defeat the point of even having this blog. (The point is to be able to write about whatever I want, and feel kind of happy if people like it.)
I don't have a moral stand against drugs. I think it's a personal choice. Long ago, after a lot of reading and research and conversations with my parents - yup, even my mother - I made a list of drugs I knew I would never touch, never ever, and drugs that I definitely wanted to try once. The drugs I will never try include heroin and acid. Actually they include pretty much anything that isn't cocaine. I always wanted to try cocaine. Just once. Mainly because I learnt that the high doesn't last long. The thought of tripping out on something for hours on end terrifies me.
Anyway, cocaine never happened to come my way and I didn't particularly go out in search of it. But everyone knows that bizarre things happen when you least expect them to, and that's part of the reason they're bizarre.
I really like the word bizarre. Bizarre. Biz-arrrre. Okay. Moving on.
I went to someone's house yesterday after work. Never mind who it was. There were three people there. One person I'm very close to, and I love her very much. The other two, I didn't know. I'm just going to call them 1, 2 and 3. 1 is the person I know, 2 is the person whose house it was, and 3 is...well, the third person.
Anyway, we were sitting around and I was feeling quite social so I was actually talking to them, and I was at my charming best. 1 was amazed - she thinks I hate her friends (true) and so she's never seen me talk to them before, I usually just stare blankly at them. But 2 and 3 seemed pretty okay and I felt comfortable around them.
Anyway, at some point 3 asked me whether I've ever done drugs.
"Not a hard drug," I said. "I've always wanted to try cocaine though but it hasn't really come my way yet."
At this point all three of them burst out laughing.
"What?"
"Look to your right."
And I looked, and I swear that it's a miracle my eyes are still in their sockets, I could actually feel them pop. There was coke on the table next to me.
1 and 2 don't do coke. 3 does. It was 3's coke. 3 asked whether I wanted to try it.
It was in front of me and I was looking at it and I didn't realize that it's possible to think ten different thoughts simultaneously but I did.
And then I asked all kinds of questions - where was it from, were they sure the quality was good, would I be able to carry on drinking after, would that be safe, what if I flipped out, I didn't want to lose control, etc.
"Just try a line," said 3. "A line should be fine. It won't hit you hard."
And then I just thought to myself, fuck it, Trisha, you've always wanted to try it once, if there are consequences, just man up and deal with them.
So I stuck the little pipe up my right nostril and inhaled a line. It went through my nose and I could taste it in my throat. It tasted like this nutritional powder thing - for the life of me, I can't remember the name - we used to eat before swimming competitions when I was in school.
I started feeling something almost instantly. Like I'd had about three drinks instead of just half, but it wasn't quite that either. It was strange, and yet, not strange. Not uncomfortable at all, no. I felt mellow and relaxed, but at the same time everything felt slightly sharper. I felt that if I concentrated on something, I'd really be able to concentrate on it, but just then, I didn't want to and that was okay. It didn't cause any behavioural changes. I was completely normal for the rest of the evening.
3 offered me a second line, but I decided against it.
Then something happened, hours later, but I'm not sure if it was the vodka or the cocaine. I was quite drunk and I wanted to throw up. This happens to a lot of people when they drink a lot, but it very rarely happens to me. And I was more drunk than I usually am on the same number of vodkas. But that could also have been because I haven't been drinking much lately.
Anyway, I was tired and I had work the next day. I decided to go to bed. 1 tucked me in (haha) and I said good night and went to sleep in a very civilized manner.
Woke up with the worst goddamn hangover I've ever had. I wonder if that had something to do with the coke - like I said, it's not like I drank an unusual amount. Anyway I staggered home at 8 in the morning because I wanted a shower, felt tempted to inform my mother (who's visiting) about the fact that I'd tried it but decided I didn't want the crockery hurled at me, and then went to work.
I'm going to tell her eventually though. Not right now. Maybe in a few months. But I'll tell her.
I told Pill about it when he came online. Pill - and oddly enough this is one of the things I love best about him - is a very self controlled person. He enjoys drinking, and he's great fun to drink with, but he doesn't smoke cigarettes, doesn't smoke up, and would never ever touch any sort of drug. Anyway, I could tell Pill didn't like that I'd done it though he didn't lecture me or anything. What made me uncomfortable was this:
While talking to him, I realized that I didn't know whether I was going to do it again or not. I always told myself that I would try it, and now I had tried it, but would I do it again? I'd had a very mild experience, what would a stronger one be like? And I felt extremely discomfited by the fact that I was considering doing it again, but since I'm not morally against it, I couldn't understand why I was discomfited. So what if I was at some party and it was offered to me? Why shouldn't I do it again if it came my way?
I thought about this for a long time.
Then I spoke to MWF. I'd noticed that I'd texted him the night before and asked him to call me, and I felt slightly annoyed that he hadn't.
"I'm sorry I drug texted you," I joked.
"You also drug dialled."
"What? I don't remember calling. I saw the text I sent you, but we didn't speak."
"Are you crazy? We did. I called you. We talked for like fifteen minutes."
"About what?"
"I couldn't make out half the shit you were saying."
"Oh."
And then, a little later, he said, "You sounded exhilarated."
"I'm not sure if I'm ever going to do it again. Maybe once was enough."
"Balls," he said.
"Why?"
"You sounded like something you'd wanna sound like again."
And that is the moment when I made my decision. It's a decision I still can't rationalize, although I'm going to try, but it's been made. And, in a way, it's been made for me by a gut feeling, by an instinct. I've had this gut feeling before, about important things, and it's never let me down.
Once was enough. I will never do cocaine again.
On a side note, I'm moving to Bangalore. But I'll talk about that later.
Also, I don't know whether it's possible to be arrested for this given that consumption of cocaine is illegal. So what does documenting consumption lead to? Apart from potential hell from irate readers. But taking all those things into account, if they happen to occur, then I would like to state here and now, that this post is a lie, this blog is a lie, my life is a lie, and I am a lie. So there.
Postscript (29.6.2013): I just told my mother about it. She didn't flip or hurl things at me, she just said that she trusted the fact that I won't ever do it again. My mother drives me insane sometimes, but I can always talk to her about things that matter.
2 comments:
I like this post. It was interesting and it was honest. I think you made the right decision about never taking the drug again but also about sharing your experience with people.
I cant say I condone drugs..having said that however, the desire to experiment is understandable...deciding not to do it again is obviously a good idea...and i really like the fact that you could tell your mother about this. your mother!
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