Paranoid and Afraid

We've all heard the tall tales and warnings when it comes to 'special' brownies. Allow me to add one more to the book.

I'll preface this by acknowledging that I live in a country where marijuana is legal. You can buy weed in many forms, including edibles, either directly from government-run stores or approved independent dispensaries. (Oh Canada!)

Now. To the good stuff.

It was mid-August. A girl's weekend.

The story starts off bad. No way around it, you will be judging a myriad of my choices, starting with the very first one.

It begins with me eating half of a brownie a friend got from her 'uncle' the weekend prior. Already bells should be ringing in your head. Accepting drugs from someone you don't know! What are you thinking! Anything could have been baked inside!

Well, I was drunk. I had been drinking at the beach all afternoon. Yes, keep on judging me. I may have lived to tell the tale, and share the lessons learned, but that doesn't mean I don't deserve some scrutiny.

My pal who supplied the brownies had eaten one at a family reunion the weekend prior. She claimed it was one of the best experiences she had ever had eating an edible. "A nice, calm, chill high," she said.

A few of us ate half of one to start and then we made our way down to the fire pit, beers in hand.

After getting the fire roaring and discussing the events of the day, I made my next crucial mistake. I went inside to grab a joint. No one was feeling the brownie's effects, and I had brought a few pre-rolls I had picked up at a legal dispensary.

I made my way inside, grabbed the box with the joint, and stopped to use the bathroom before making my way back to the fire pit. As I looked at myself in the mirror, I realized that I was alone in the cottage. Alone. In. The. Cottage. My inner monologue began to sound a little like this:

Why did all of them want only me to go inside? What could they be doing out there without me? What are they planning? Did they intentionally send me in alone? Oh no, what if they invited the guys up to surprise me? Do I look hot? Should I hurry back to catch them, or wait and let them set up their prank?

Versions of these questions played in mind on loop for the next 2 hours.

Anyone experienced with weed could tell you what was happening. I however, am not the biggest fan of being high. I prefer to be drunk. Only on the rarest of occasions, when I want to take that drunkenness to the next level, will I throw some weed (or something else) into the mix.

Suffice it to say, I did not identify this as paranoia. And what was the first thing I did when I got back to the fire pit? I lit up the joint.

The joint was passed around the circle, but as the brownie began hitting our blood streams, the responsibility to finish it fell to me and one other girl. Essentially, I ingested just shy of half of the joint.

Then my friend pulled the remaining brownies out of her bag.

"Guess what everyone?"

"What?"

"I didn't have one."

The biggest smirk spread across her face. As realization slowly set in, groans began emitting from the group. "Fuck you!" Someone shouted. She was grinning ear to ear. Dread began to weigh on my paranoia-ridden shoulders.

The only explanation for her not having one with us, is that there was something else in there. Something she's not telling us.

The rest of the night is a complete blur.

Remember my inner monologue?

Anything someone said to me I questioned. I didn't trust a word out of anyone's mouth; even friends of mine I have had for close to 10 years!

As people slowly peeled away for the fire for the comforts of the indoors, I was skeptical. Why do they want me to come inside with them? What are they planning out here, behind my back? This nagging distrust got worse and worse. I'm pretty sure I even doubted someone when they were describing the colour of an item of clothing they had. I wasn't even hearing what was being said around the fire. It physically felt like I was being unwelcomely engulfed into this gelatinous casing.

I don't remember much, except the paranoia. If you were expecting me to launch into a description of a wild trip, it did not happen (to my knowledge). I know I stayed outside until there were just two of us left at the fire. We extinguished it with a bucket of water. I was insistent on staying up to watch a movie, although everyone headed off to bed fairly soon after making it inside. I know that before I did make my way to the bedroom, I double-checked to make sure all the doors were locked and no one could get in.

I remember lying on my back, staring at the ceiling, just waiting for something bad to happen. Bracing myself for the unexpected.

When friends of mine recount the night, it's done with laughs and warmth. Only one person really caught on to how detached from reality I truly was.

To this day, my buddy swears there was only weed in those brownies. Marijuana causes memory loss, right?

I haven't had an edible since.

-sc.