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my shortlived experience with them and how they ruined my teenagehood
tw: mentions of eating disorders, drug abuse, mental health issues, and suicide
June 21, 2022
Don't be misled by the title, I am not a pill-popping party girl. I’ve never even been to a huge party (nor am I interested in one) and don’t even like leaving the house after 9 pm. I'm not saying that to prove I'm, “not like other girls” or whatever, I'm sure you can find at least 5 random teens that put you in the mind of me. I'm saying that to say the sudden rebellion I had a few months ago can really happen to anyone because a few months ago I was trying to seem like that pill-popping party girl. But I know you guys are dying to know how and why my bad girl phase was so short-lived. So let's take it back to about November 2021. That's when a met her.
This story involves a few parties and usage of drugs and “unlawful” activity so names will be changed.
It all started when I met a girl named “Megan”, (that's not her real name ovi) she was the older bad influence, but I won't blame everything that we did and all my actions on her. It was still a joint effort. But I had never done anything before I met her. Never smoked weed, or vaped, or anything. Behavior-wise, I was always a good kid and terrified of getting in trouble, while she was the opposite. But she did really heavy stuff, like Oxy and snorting stuff. She had been to rehab twice. But I thought she was so cool. Not only was she really pretty and the sweetest person ever, but she had all these crazy stories about things she had done and getting high. But at the same time, she told many cautionary tales to me about doing hard drugs and never offered me hard drugs or did them in front of me. But a few months into our friendship, she did introduce me to weed. The second I hit off that Hello Kitty pipe my life took a turn for a few months.
My parents smoked weed for the majority of my childhood, so I was always a little curious about trying it but I had never gotten the opportunity to try and I had always told myself I wouldn't try until I was older but only because I was so scared of getting in trouble. When I would tell my mom about my friends smoking and various things “I would never do” (which I ended up doing during this phase) my mom would always say something like, “I don’t know what I would do if I ever caught you doing something like that-” or anything that's a very black mom response. If you know, you know. I knew my parents would smell it on me and would be able to tell I was high. They were long-term stoners, they would know. But the first time I got high was indescribable. I'm a worried person, guys. I worry about everything. My future, my friends, myself, school, home, and all things I can and can’t control, and when I got high it was the first time I didn't worry. I felt so free from the hellhole that is my mind. I felt happy and I felt like I couldn't be embarrassed or shameful of anything I said or did. We did it behind my house. My 8-year-old sister got out of school about 30 minutes after me so I had to pick her up from the bus stop which was about a 2-minute walk away from my house. But because I was as high as a kite and it was my first time, keeping a track of time was impossible and it felt like it was running away from me. Even though I was a 30-second walk from my apartment and I could see it from where I was, I couldn't remember how to get home. I couldn't remember how long it had been since Megan had walked back to her place. The sun felt so bright and the colors so loud and kaleidoscopic. I could hear my inner thoughts so loud. Walking felt involuntary. I got home and my sister was already there. She asked me why I hadn't met her at the stop but I couldn't come up with a lie so I just stared at her. Even she knew something was up but didn't care to ask. I trudged into my room, very disoriented. I collapsed on my bed and stared at my rotating fan for what felt like hours but was only prob like 15 minutes. My rainbow LED lights flashing between colors and music playing on my TV. I felt so out of my body and happy. I think I texted and called a few people. I don’t remember. But I do remember passing out and waking up at 10pm. Still disoriented but not sure if I was still a little high or if it was because I had woken up from a nap. It had felt like I was sleeping for 12 hours when it was only about five. But once the night came around, I was thinking again. I was desperate to get rid of that feeling.
The process of getting high with Megan was a hard one and we started doing that shit almost every day, at least on days my mom wasn't going to be home till 6,7, or 8. My parents had just broken up around at the time and my mom met a new guy so she wasn't home much. I would get high, run back home, shower, sleep, and binge eat. I already have a bad relationship with my body but the impact weed on that I’ll get into later. The process was hard to do stoned, I had to be efficient, which is hard to do when you are high and you cant keep a track of time but as time went on, I started getting sloppy. I met another character and I found out about carts, this was my demise.
I met a guy named “Eli” (not his real name ovi) he was just Megan in boy form. Nice, kinda hot, and did drugs. We got really close really fast and bonded over having parallel mental issues. I really started to fall for him but that's a story for another time and it ended up being a heather type of situation and I was Conan Grey- BUT THAT'S NOT THE POINT. Story for another time. Anyway, he got me into carts. If you don't know, carts are a weed vape hybrid, but it doesn't smell at all. So I started smoking with Eli and Megan all the time. During school, after school, and all the time in between and so quickly I got swept up. I started hotwiring carts with phone chargers and it seemed like every other day I was getting called down to the office. This started having a ripple effect and I started doing other things I didn't do before, wearing more revelieving clothes, sending nudes, skipping and failing classes, (all stories for another time), and slowly started ditching my real friends for people who just would do anything for a hit. I became them. I spend every dime I had on carts. I started getting cocky, having many close calls, and not getting caught I got sloppy and thought I was untouchable. But, I had an impending feeling my time was coming.
Also around this time, my family had gotten kicked out so we had lived with a family member for about a week and then started living at hotels until the school year was over, which was in about a month at this point. My parents had gotten back together and just wanted to wait out the school year before we moved. Also, my cat had died around this time and I was “messing around” with this guy who was just such an emotional destroyer and I will def write about him in the future. But with all of these things happening the more I smoked so I wouldn't have to think about it. My real friends were growing concerned but whenever they brought it up with me I would get defensive and push them away. It didn't help that my drug friends were telling me that they were being invasive and annoying and all I needed was them telling me what I wanted to hear for me to slowly lose myself. I was more depressed than usual. Failing all my classes, high all the time, and growing into an angry person. I got into fights with my friends often and burned ties with people I love the most. I know it was just weed and nic, but I had become a slave to it. Eating from constant munchies caused me to gain weight. My whole life I have had very up and down self-esteem issues. I would starve myself. And when I smoked I would use the excuse it was fixing my eating disorder. But it was making everything worse. I wanted to kill myself. I wrote a note. I cried every day. I usually care very much about my looks but I didn't care anymore. My eyes were always puffy. Weed mixing with my pre-existing mental health issues and a lack of moderation was ruining my life. But it wouldn't last for long.
It was the last weekend before school was over and my family and I were staying at the Hilton. My parents dropped me and my sister off and told us to pack because we were moving hotels for the 400th time. This was the last straw for me. All pint up emotions about the guy, the weed, all the moving everything. I got out of the car slammed the door and dashed inside the hotel. I didn't want my parents to ask me what was wrong because, in the moment, I didn't know. The minute I got to the room I started breaking down. It was the worst I'd ever cried. I felt like I couldn't breathe. I tried to keep it together because I knew my little sister could hear but I couldn't. I tried to play music to try to relax. But then during the breakdown, I started hallucinating. I don't remember exactly what it was as it was all very blurry but it was the first time this had ever happened to me and I was horrified. After it was over I texted my friend and told him about it. He was super non-judgemental about the whole thing and I felt so much better. My parents came back and I told my mom about hallucinating. She asked me if I was sure I was hallucinating but I knew I had. I don’t remember her exact response but I remember not being very satisfied with it. I didn't have my phone at the time because of shit grades so for the past 2ish weeks so I was texting all my friends with my laptop and using it as basically a phone. After the convo, we went out to dinner. This is when things take a turn.
We arrived at the Olive Garden, but I couldn't stop thinking about what had happened at the hotel. I was concerned for myself. I was so in my own head I wasn't all the way there when my parents were talking to me, they could tell. I expressed to them that I was concerned and that maybe all the moving was having a bad effect on my mental health. I think it was that but I failed to mention my insane weed intake and sexual activity, which had been going on for about 3 months now. I knew that was a part of it, a big part. But I didn't want to get in trouble. My mom called my bluff though and could tell I was holding something back. We took a trip to the bathroom and she wanted to take me to the mental hospital. While I actually thought this might be a good idea I knew I would get drug tested and she would go through my stuff. I took back my claims of having a mental break out of fear. But we left and she went through my laptop in the car. She found everything that could be found. The first thing she saw was me talking about how I was gonna hook up with the guy mentioned earlier, which wasn't a great start to the search but at least it peaked early. By this point, we were at my dad's house so she got out of the car and hit me but not hard, just enough to take my hat off. She was angry, rightfully. She was screaming and it was scaring my sister so she went with my dad while my mom and I drove around for a little bit and she said the most hurtful things to me I’d ever heard. Calling me a slut and saying all the horrible things I thought about myself and reaffirming all those things I thought about myself. I knew I deserved it and she was just saying it because she was angry, but it hurt so bad. After about 20 minutes of berating me, we went back to my dad's house to pick up my sister and father, and drove back to our hotel. My dad and sister got out while I and my mom stayed in the car for what felt like hours looking through my stuff right in front of me. It was torturous. It was dead silent but every now and then she would blurt out an angry rage for a while when she found the next thing. She saw my nudes, which was a mentally stinging feeling. After being in the car for about an hour, she let me go back to the room to shower and go to bed because it was a Sunday night and we had school tomorrow. I couldn't cry or panic. I came to terms with my fate. I had ruined my teenage hood. I was never going to be able to do anything again. I truly regretted my actions, but not because I had gotten caught. It's because I was at rock bottom, for a while before I got caught. There were so many times I wanted to come clean as lying was weighing on my conscience, but I was always a good kid and I didn't want my parents to hate me. I was waiting for my mom to come upstairs and it was agony.
When I got out of the shower my dad asked me if I was okay, knowing what it was like to be berated by my mother and how bad it could sting. I didn't want to look him in the eyes so I just nodded my head. My mom called him down to the car and the minute he shut the door my “sleeping” sister sprung up wanting to know what happened. So I told her the gist, as I didn't want to get into explicit details with my 8-year-old sister, no matter how close I was with her. I tried to go to sleep before my mom came back up, hoping that if I was sleeping she wouldn't wake me up, half hoping that it was all a bad dream and I would wake up and everything would be fine. She came back, she didn't care I was sleeping, after yelling at me for another 20 minutes and I was so tired I just remember falling asleep.
It was the last and shittyest week of school yet, she came to my school and told the resource officers about me and all my friends smoking and forcing me to snitch on my friends. I got the fentanyl talk from the officers and I was well aware of the risk of hitting off random carts and vapes, not knowing where they came from. I just didn't care because I wanted to die anyway, so might as well go out happy. That was how bad things had gotten. I told all my friends what was up but all of them seemed pretty unconcerned. The next week every time I saw my mom she would yell at me, I started to become desensitized to the insults. I mean a part of me felt like I deserved it because I was in trouble and I did something wrong but on the other hand it felt kinda cruel. Eventually, we were out of hotels and started living with my aunt, we have been living here for a few weeks but the minute we started living here things started getting better.
My mom and I had a real talk about what happened without yelling. She told me that even though she was angry that I wasn't a bad person and I wasn't the first or the last teenager to do these things. It was the first time in a little while I felt loved and liked by my mom. I thought she was always going to see me as this troubled teen. When I was a good kid that got caught up with the wrong crowd. It's been about a month and a half since then and things have gotten better. The story has a bit of a happy ending.
I'm still living with my aunt, and my mom is starting to trust me more. I'm still not allowed to do certain things but it's really starting to get better. I had to take some online classes because I failed some classes but I'm almost done with them and I'm passing them. I haven't smoked in forever and I don’t talk to that guy anymore. I still deal with mental health issues as I always have, but I have a psych appt soon as some professionals have told me I deploy symptoms of BPD or bipolar depression though not diagnosed. So overall, things feel better and more stable in my life right now. I’m going to be allowed to talk to some of my friends today so I'm really happy about it.
I’m not telling this story to encourage or discourage smoking weed, doing drugs, or being sexually active. It’s your life and people can do these things without their whole lives falling apart like yours truly. But these were just my experiences. If you are currently in this same situation, my best advice is just to come clean. People will respect you more for just coming clean as it shows real remorse. If you must do these things, however, and you're not allowed to, learn from me, at least delete the messages…
my shortlived experience with them and how they ruined my teenagehood
tw: mentions of eating disorders, drug abuse, mental health issues, and suicide
June 21, 2022
Don't be misled by the title, I am not a pill-popping party girl. I’ve never even been to a huge party (nor am I interested in one) and don’t even like leaving the house after 9 pm. I'm not saying that to prove I'm, “not like other girls” or whatever, I'm sure you can find at least 5 random teens that put you in the mind of me. I'm saying that to say the sudden rebellion I had a few months ago can really happen to anyone because a few months ago I was trying to seem like that pill-popping party girl. But I know you guys are dying to know how and why my bad girl phase was so short-lived. So let's take it back to about November 2021. That's when a met her.
This story involves a few parties and usage of drugs and “unlawful” activity so names will be changed.
It all started when I met a girl named “Megan”, (that's not her real name ovi) she was the older bad influence, but I won't blame everything that we did and all my actions on her. It was still a joint effort. But I had never done anything before I met her. Never smoked weed, or vaped, or anything. Behavior-wise, I was always a good kid and terrified of getting in trouble, while she was the opposite. But she did really heavy stuff, like Oxy and snorting stuff. She had been to rehab twice. But I thought she was so cool. Not only was she really pretty and the sweetest person ever, but she had all these crazy stories about things she had done and getting high. But at the same time, she told many cautionary tales to me about doing hard drugs and never offered me hard drugs or did them in front of me. But a few months into our friendship, she did introduce me to weed. The second I hit off that Hello Kitty pipe my life took a turn for a few months.
My parents smoked weed for the majority of my childhood, so I was always a little curious about trying it but I had never gotten the opportunity to try and I had always told myself I wouldn't try until I was older but only because I was so scared of getting in trouble. When I would tell my mom about my friends smoking and various things “I would never do” (which I ended up doing during this phase) my mom would always say something like, “I don’t know what I would do if I ever caught you doing something like that-” or anything that's a very black mom response. If you know, you know. I knew my parents would smell it on me and would be able to tell I was high. They were long-term stoners, they would know. But the first time I got high was indescribable. I'm a worried person, guys. I worry about everything. My future, my friends, myself, school, home, and all things I can and can’t control, and when I got high it was the first time I didn't worry. I felt so free from the hellhole that is my mind. I felt happy and I felt like I couldn't be embarrassed or shameful of anything I said or did. We did it behind my house. My 8-year-old sister got out of school about 30 minutes after me so I had to pick her up from the bus stop which was about a 2-minute walk away from my house. But because I was as high as a kite and it was my first time, keeping a track of time was impossible and it felt like it was running away from me. Even though I was a 30-second walk from my apartment and I could see it from where I was, I couldn't remember how to get home. I couldn't remember how long it had been since Megan had walked back to her place. The sun felt so bright and the colors so loud and kaleidoscopic. I could hear my inner thoughts so loud. Walking felt involuntary. I got home and my sister was already there. She asked me why I hadn't met her at the stop but I couldn't come up with a lie so I just stared at her. Even she knew something was up but didn't care to ask. I trudged into my room, very disoriented. I collapsed on my bed and stared at my rotating fan for what felt like hours but was only prob like 15 minutes. My rainbow LED lights flashing between colors and music playing on my TV. I felt so out of my body and happy. I think I texted and called a few people. I don’t remember. But I do remember passing out and waking up at 10pm. Still disoriented but not sure if I was still a little high or if it was because I had woken up from a nap. It had felt like I was sleeping for 12 hours when it was only about five. But once the night came around, I was thinking again. I was desperate to get rid of that feeling.
The process of getting high with Megan was a hard one and we started doing that shit almost every day, at least on days my mom wasn't going to be home till 6,7, or 8. My parents had just broken up around at the time and my mom met a new guy so she wasn't home much. I would get high, run back home, shower, sleep, and binge eat. I already have a bad relationship with my body but the impact weed on that I’ll get into later. The process was hard to do stoned, I had to be efficient, which is hard to do when you are high and you cant keep a track of time but as time went on, I started getting sloppy. I met another character and I found out about carts, this was my demise.
I met a guy named “Eli” (not his real name ovi) he was just Megan in boy form. Nice, kinda hot, and did drugs. We got really close really fast and bonded over having parallel mental issues. I really started to fall for him but that's a story for another time and it ended up being a heather type of situation and I was Conan Grey- BUT THAT'S NOT THE POINT. Story for another time. Anyway, he got me into carts. If you don't know, carts are a weed vape hybrid, but it doesn't smell at all. So I started smoking with Eli and Megan all the time. During school, after school, and all the time in between and so quickly I got swept up. I started hotwiring carts with phone chargers and it seemed like every other day I was getting called down to the office. This started having a ripple effect and I started doing other things I didn't do before, wearing more revelieving clothes, sending nudes, skipping and failing classes, (all stories for another time), and slowly started ditching my real friends for people who just would do anything for a hit. I became them. I spend every dime I had on carts. I started getting cocky, having many close calls, and not getting caught I got sloppy and thought I was untouchable. But, I had an impending feeling my time was coming.
Also around this time, my family had gotten kicked out so we had lived with a family member for about a week and then started living at hotels until the school year was over, which was in about a month at this point. My parents had gotten back together and just wanted to wait out the school year before we moved. Also, my cat had died around this time and I was “messing around” with this guy who was just such an emotional destroyer and I will def write about him in the future. But with all of these things happening the more I smoked so I wouldn't have to think about it. My real friends were growing concerned but whenever they brought it up with me I would get defensive and push them away. It didn't help that my drug friends were telling me that they were being invasive and annoying and all I needed was them telling me what I wanted to hear for me to slowly lose myself. I was more depressed than usual. Failing all my classes, high all the time, and growing into an angry person. I got into fights with my friends often and burned ties with people I love the most. I know it was just weed and nic, but I had become a slave to it. Eating from constant munchies caused me to gain weight. My whole life I have had very up and down self-esteem issues. I would starve myself. And when I smoked I would use the excuse it was fixing my eating disorder. But it was making everything worse. I wanted to kill myself. I wrote a note. I cried every day. I usually care very much about my looks but I didn't care anymore. My eyes were always puffy. Weed mixing with my pre-existing mental health issues and a lack of moderation was ruining my life. But it wouldn't last for long.
It was the last weekend before school was over and my family and I were staying at the Hilton. My parents dropped me and my sister off and told us to pack because we were moving hotels for the 400th time. This was the last straw for me. All pint up emotions about the guy, the weed, all the moving everything. I got out of the car slammed the door and dashed inside the hotel. I didn't want my parents to ask me what was wrong because, in the moment, I didn't know. The minute I got to the room I started breaking down. It was the worst I'd ever cried. I felt like I couldn't breathe. I tried to keep it together because I knew my little sister could hear but I couldn't. I tried to play music to try to relax. But then during the breakdown, I started hallucinating. I don't remember exactly what it was as it was all very blurry but it was the first time this had ever happened to me and I was horrified. After it was over I texted my friend and told him about it. He was super non-judgemental about the whole thing and I felt so much better. My parents came back and I told my mom about hallucinating. She asked me if I was sure I was hallucinating but I knew I had. I don’t remember her exact response but I remember not being very satisfied with it. I didn't have my phone at the time because of shit grades so for the past 2ish weeks so I was texting all my friends with my laptop and using it as basically a phone. After the convo, we went out to dinner. This is when things take a turn.
We arrived at the Olive Garden, but I couldn't stop thinking about what had happened at the hotel. I was concerned for myself. I was so in my own head I wasn't all the way there when my parents were talking to me, they could tell. I expressed to them that I was concerned and that maybe all the moving was having a bad effect on my mental health. I think it was that but I failed to mention my insane weed intake and sexual activity, which had been going on for about 3 months now. I knew that was a part of it, a big part. But I didn't want to get in trouble. My mom called my bluff though and could tell I was holding something back. We took a trip to the bathroom and she wanted to take me to the mental hospital. While I actually thought this might be a good idea I knew I would get drug tested and she would go through my stuff. I took back my claims of having a mental break out of fear. But we left and she went through my laptop in the car. She found everything that could be found. The first thing she saw was me talking about how I was gonna hook up with the guy mentioned earlier, which wasn't a great start to the search but at least it peaked early. By this point, we were at my dad's house so she got out of the car and hit me but not hard, just enough to take my hat off. She was angry, rightfully. She was screaming and it was scaring my sister so she went with my dad while my mom and I drove around for a little bit and she said the most hurtful things to me I’d ever heard. Calling me a slut and saying all the horrible things I thought about myself and reaffirming all those things I thought about myself. I knew I deserved it and she was just saying it because she was angry, but it hurt so bad. After about 20 minutes of berating me, we went back to my dad's house to pick up my sister and father, and drove back to our hotel. My dad and sister got out while I and my mom stayed in the car for what felt like hours looking through my stuff right in front of me. It was torturous. It was dead silent but every now and then she would blurt out an angry rage for a while when she found the next thing. She saw my nudes, which was a mentally stinging feeling. After being in the car for about an hour, she let me go back to the room to shower and go to bed because it was a Sunday night and we had school tomorrow. I couldn't cry or panic. I came to terms with my fate. I had ruined my teenage hood. I was never going to be able to do anything again. I truly regretted my actions, but not because I had gotten caught. It's because I was at rock bottom, for a while before I got caught. There were so many times I wanted to come clean as lying was weighing on my conscience, but I was always a good kid and I didn't want my parents to hate me. I was waiting for my mom to come upstairs and it was agony.
When I got out of the shower my dad asked me if I was okay, knowing what it was like to be berated by my mother and how bad it could sting. I didn't want to look him in the eyes so I just nodded my head. My mom called him down to the car and the minute he shut the door my “sleeping” sister sprung up wanting to know what happened. So I told her the gist, as I didn't want to get into explicit details with my 8-year-old sister, no matter how close I was with her. I tried to go to sleep before my mom came back up, hoping that if I was sleeping she wouldn't wake me up, half hoping that it was all a bad dream and I would wake up and everything would be fine. She came back, she didn't care I was sleeping, after yelling at me for another 20 minutes and I was so tired I just remember falling asleep.
It was the last and shittyest week of school yet, she came to my school and told the resource officers about me and all my friends smoking and forcing me to snitch on my friends. I got the fentanyl talk from the officers and I was well aware of the risk of hitting off random carts and vapes, not knowing where they came from. I just didn't care because I wanted to die anyway, so might as well go out happy. That was how bad things had gotten. I told all my friends what was up but all of them seemed pretty unconcerned. The next week every time I saw my mom she would yell at me, I started to become desensitized to the insults. I mean a part of me felt like I deserved it because I was in trouble and I did something wrong but on the other hand it felt kinda cruel. Eventually, we were out of hotels and started living with my aunt, we have been living here for a few weeks but the minute we started living here things started getting better.
My mom and I had a real talk about what happened without yelling. She told me that even though she was angry that I wasn't a bad person and I wasn't the first or the last teenager to do these things. It was the first time in a little while I felt loved and liked by my mom. I thought she was always going to see me as this troubled teen. When I was a good kid that got caught up with the wrong crowd. It's been about a month and a half since then and things have gotten better. The story has a bit of a happy ending.
I'm still living with my aunt, and my mom is starting to trust me more. I'm still not allowed to do certain things but it's really starting to get better. I had to take some online classes because I failed some classes but I'm almost done with them and I'm passing them. I haven't smoked in forever and I don’t talk to that guy anymore. I still deal with mental health issues as I always have, but I have a psych appt soon as some professionals have told me I deploy symptoms of BPD or bipolar depression though not diagnosed. So overall, things feel better and more stable in my life right now. I’m going to be allowed to talk to some of my friends today so I'm really happy about it.
I’m not telling this story to encourage or discourage smoking weed, doing drugs, or being sexually active. It’s your life and people can do these things without their whole lives falling apart like yours truly. But these were just my experiences. If you are currently in this same situation, my best advice is just to come clean. People will respect you more for just coming clean as it shows real remorse. If you must do these things, however, and you're not allowed to, learn from me, at least delete the messages…
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