Admittedly, I sometimes do some really stupid things, and sometimes I don’t find out how stupid until much later; there’s like a delay… a stupidity delay. Anyway, I got to find out what one of those stupid things was this past weekend, and it was drug related.
I don’t do illicit drugs. I don’t like the feeling of being too high or the feeling of loss of control. I do, on occasion, take a drug prescribed to me for my IBS when it rears its ugly head. Now, I’m super sensitive to any sort of medication; even a normal dosage can sometimes be way too strong for me, so I’m very careful about what I take.
Well Saturday morning I took a pill because my IBS was really bothering me, and later that day, as I was driving home from L.A. I still wasn’t feeling right; I was overly nauseous and I attributed it to my IBS, so I decided to take another pill. About 15 minutes later, I started to feel really, really high, like abnormally high… like, there’s something seriously wrong here, what the hell is going on?
It got worse very quickly; I couldn’t catch my breath, I was getting very dizzy and I started to freak out. I realized I needed to get off the freeway immediately or something very bad was going to happen because I felt like I was going to pass out, and I had to cross several lanes of traffic in order to exit. Luckily I managed without incident, found a quiet street and pulled over, and I sat there trying to calm myself down.
I even pulled out my phone and went on Facebook to feel some sort of normalcy, which is a problem in itself, but that’s a post for another time. So I’m sitting there wondering what the fuck is going on? I mean, this is not normal, and I’m thinking, there’s no way the medication is that strong; I’ve taken many times before and never had this reaction. Anyway, I stayed there for some time before I felt the high start to subside a little.
I decided to get back on the road because I think “I’m going to be okay”, which is ludicrous because someone that high, cannot determine for themselves whether they’re okay enough to do anything. Plus, there are varying levels of being “okay”… I think there are ten levels, and I was only at level one.
For some reason, the nausea had something to do with it: Every time my stomach rolled, this wave of being really fucking high would wash over me and I had to brace myself, then I had to be prepared to pull off the freeway again at any moment. Now you should know that this is a very thrilling, heart-racing activity; being over medicated and risking your life like this. I mean, if you’re the adventurous type at all, I highly recommend it.
At one point I look at myself in the rear view mirror and my pupils are like pins and I’m thinking, if I get pulled over it’s going to be a dead giveaway I’m high as fuck. So I started practicing the conversation I’m going to have with the police officer, assuming before any evidence presents itself, that it’s about to happen. You ever do that? Practice what you’re going to say when you know you’re in deep shit?
So now I’m almost home, but instead of going straight to my house like a normal, abnormally high person would do, I think to myself “You know what I need? I need to get something to eat in order to settle my stomach and absorb some of these drugs, so I’m going to stop off at the dollar store. I fucking love the dollar store!” You can only really love something that shitty when you’re high, by the way.
The dollar store has cheap, interesting snacks. They carry ones you’ve never heard of before; snacks that were rejected by society and the FDA. Nobody eats these snacks except poor people, because poor people will eat anything. They don’t care, they’re hungry, they’ll try anything, even if it’s got poison in it… and everything in the dollar store has poison in it.
We don’t know where this stuff came from, really. I mean yeah, some of it’s got the English language on the packaging, but some of it doesn’t; some of it has foreign language on it, but we don’t really know from what country. Hell, it doesn’t matter… even if it’s American it still doesn’t mean it’s not dangerous… probably even more so. I try not to think about it while I’m filling my basket.
I couldn’t even wait until I got to the register, I ripped open a bag of rice crackers, and started munching away while I was walking around the store, which looks completely different when you’re high, by the way; it’s much more fun and interesting. I started to feel so much better after having some crackers… and some pretzels… and some fruit… and cookies. Look, I was hungry, okay? I think I bought enough snacks to last a month.
The next day I kept turning it over in my mind: What the hell happened? Then it dawned on me… and here’s where the stupidity delay comes in: I had taken an older bottle of medication and dumped whatever was in there in the newer bottle, without checking for the expiration date on the old ones first, which doesn’t even matter, you should never mix medications anyway.
Now I know why they put expiration dates on drugs.