I have only done drugs twice. Same drug both times.

Never again.

First time, I was paranoid but I had a generally good time.

Second time, it was hell. I wanted to die. Yes, this has to do with my fibromyalgia.

I had just finished moving all the crap I own into a friend’s attic where I was going to be staying for a few months. Two flights of nasty stairs and all I had to show for it was two great friends and my aches everywhere.

I had been speaking with my father who constantly recommended smoking pot to help with pain relief – he has a knee thing, he smokes, it’s better.

My one friend decide that she needed a toke to help her relax after the hard day of moving and I decided to join in. If I could go back in time, I’d beat my ass until I truly understood never ever to smoke pot.

She grabbed a joint from her mother’s boyfriend and lit up. He had told us that it was really good stuff and super strong. Ehh – what did I know?

We were sitting on the porch and I was in rough shape; My legs felt like lead, my skin was on fire, I had a pounding headache, my whole body was vibrating with pain… I remember explaining to her that I didn’t care what it did to me as long as it took away my pain.

What it did was royally fuck me up. I started cycling – my personality actually split into four and I remember telling my friend to record what I was saying so I could rehash it later. I never got to hear it, but this is what it felt like:

I was four different personalities. Almost separate people. Every time I blink, it would switch. Only when I would be talking repeatedly and not blinking could I actually stay as one person. There was myself, terror, giddy, and rage. I remember terror the most but all of them started getting angry after cycling so much – none of us got to come out for very long.

I remember saying, “Even after all of this, it still didn’t take my pain away“. I could feel all of my aches and pains despite having four duelling personalities.

The personalities calmed down eventually later in the evening. It was about eight hours since it began.

The depersonalization eventually went away after two days. It happened again later from a conversation I was having and finally from déjà-vu. This last bout hasn’t gone away yet and it’s been five months.

I had this terrible depersonalizing episode from pot and I didn’t even get the benefits of pain relief.

So there you have it – I didn’t get pain relief from smoking up, but I did get extra time with my therapist.