I admit I have smoked weed in the past, but only a few times. The first time didn't go all too well... I just felt extremely nauseous afterwards. The second was nothing special, I just felt a bit nice. The third was scary... and the fourth and last time was absolute hell. There is no need to describe the first two, but I will go into the detail of my third experience and greater detail in my last experience along with the side effects caused by it. I would be thrilled with an answer, but all I am really expecting is maybe someone in the same boat or similar one as me. But that said thank you to anyone who would be kind enough to write me their thoughts or opinions and I really appreciate any thought you can give.
Okay... so my third experience with smoking started out nice. I was with someone that I trusted (my brother,) so I was comfortable enough to let my guard down and relax. I don't tolerate a high level of weed, so I was done in rather quickly, and by the time I took my third hit I began to feel all of those nice effects. We were in the car and I was sitting in the middle in the front seat between my big bro and his gf. I saw the dash in the middle tilt, and that is when it started to go down hill. It scared me. Once I got very frightened, and I began to have a bad trip. I had a similar experience to when I was put under anesthesia, every thing was prickly and when things moved it seemed as if it paused and then played, paused and then played. Everything went dark and I started earnestly crying. My brother was there, and the only thing that could pull me out of my agony was when I looked into his eyes as he talked to me. He was compassionate to me during the entire process, talking to me in a calm voice and telling me that everything was okay and holding me close. Looking back I know that I acted so broken, and pitiful cries would erupt from my lips over and over. When I finally became coherent enough to stop sobbing, he brought me into his girlfriends house for the night because he knew that going back to our grandmother's for the night was a very bad idea. When I went in, they sat me down in front of the TV to distract me from my turmoil. And after what felt like an eternity I got up to pee. Going by myself was a struggle because I felt so clumsy, but after I went, I felt so much better. I was then able to lay on the floor next to my brothers girl friend and get some sleep.
So... this brings me to the very last time. I'll let you know beforehand that I am not sure if I was high or not. before I had this experience I was on a crash diet to get down from 120 lbs. (I know... stupid.) For at least 4 weeks I consumed around 300 calories a day. From not eating well I'm sure that my body took it in and dispersed it quickly thinking it was valuable. Also I hadn't been thinking too well obviously from lack of nutrients. After that last scary experience I was pretty hesitant to smoke again. Ever. But I looked up to my brother very much, and I had a lot of fun whenever I could go out with him and his friends. Recently what hanging out to my brother meant was he was going to go get high. I had stayed in for a few months not going anywhere really until one night he said he was going out again and asked if I wanted to come along. I said yes, as long as they wouldn't hotbox the car. However, when we were all in the car together they convinced me that one hit was not going to make me high, and I had nothing to worry about. They were probably right... nothing to worry about with one hit. But after this one hit of weed I had the worst experience of my life. It was worse than 26 hours of natural child birth. (And yes, I am married and was married at the time with a stable house and income at 18 years old.) So anyway the thought at the forefront of my mind after that hit of weed was: oh no, am I going to have a horrible trip now? What if I freak out again? And those thoughts led me to another bad trip. I started crying, and my brother immediately knew what was going on. He tried to calm me down, but after a short while I was inconsolable. The prickly pausing sensation came back from my first bad trip. I started screaming loudly and panicking. Then I felt as if I couldn't breath. ( I don't breath well under bad circumstances, it caused me to have an emergency oxygen mask after waking up from an eye surgery as a child, and me to have a cesarean with my baby.) I would make this high pitch noise as I tried to get enough oxygen in, and I remember passing out a few times from the lack thereof. All the while I thought I was dying, and you would not believe how unbelievably scary it is. Then we parked and my hands bent in towards my wrists in an unbearable cramp. My brother tried with all of his strength to straighten it out but to no avail. He then realized something, and demanded that I eat a McDonald's cheese burger. That didn't seem to help much. Shortly after my limbs started flailing like a robot with my wrists in, and I was trying to talk but all that came out was this whale moan talk. I was scared at this point that I would never be the same, that I would be retarded. When he drove me back home, I paced in the driveway for hours praying to God to help me. Just let me escape from this hell for a little while. I went to sleep that night alone and scared. In the morning I still felt high and very prickly. I had no sense of depth perception either. Cold things hurt to touch. The next two days were a bit better but still painfully prickly, and I felt like my body was fighting a terrible infection of some sort. I remember crying in the arms of my soon to be husband about how much pain I was in. After those few days I seemed to regain my normalcy.
This was not the case, however, when I went off to college a few months later. (I was only 17 because I skipped ahead in my studies, and very nervous about going off completely on my own.) My papa drove me there, and on the way that familiar prickly sensation returned with a vengeance so I was forced to explain to him the circumstances that I was under. He was very understanding, and shared with me an interesting story about one of his friends who got high with him once and was never the same again. His friend's personality became angry instead of the light hearted person he knew. He helped me carry most of my luggage in before he left. then after that it seemed to be triggered by stress, It would come a few days before a test, and then remain a few days after.
Then something new developed. The first time it happened, my husband was driving me back to the college that I was attending and I felt so sick. This numbness and prickliness spread from my legs up to my entire body. When we parked I tried to stand, but I had no strength at all and everything was so dizzy. I got half way to the door of my dorm before I completely fainted. The fainting continued even up through my pregnancy (which worried me) and once I fainted at a friends house when my husband stood there a long while talking by the door, It was so hot, and I was pregnant so I got very overheated. I fainted and he had to carry me over to the couch to lie down. Now after I have had the baby I haven't fainted for quite some time, but I still get that awful almost immobilizing prickly feeling whenever I think about it. It is strange to me that it occurs when I think of it, and I don't know what to do. It can last for many days at a time.
I am not psychotic I promise you but something like that makes me scared at what my mind can do. I have been able to provoke myself into feeling other physical things since then, and it really scares me. When something happens now as well I will get stressed, getting similar feelings to a heart attack. It could be something as simple as an argument... I just get so worked up...
Can someone please tell me what is happening neurologically to me? It has happened only since I smoked the last time. Or could it be my mind? Thanks.