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I choose to call myself Tobi. I am a young man who has been suffering with multiple mental illnesses which went undiagnosed and unrecognized for many years. I grew up as a child with Asperger's Syndrome, because of which I never fit in much with other children, I had no friends, I was different. People didn't really understand me, they just thought I was weird. It wasn't until I was about fourteen years old a psychiatrist finally told me I suffer from Asperger's which makes me behave and think in the manner which I do. I was also diagnosed with severe anxiety disorder, since I had begun suffering from violent anxiety attacks at age thirteen. I had also been suffering from Psychosis and Tourette's Syndrome, which contributed to my rage and outbursts of frustration. Maybe six months before this at most, I began using Marijuana. Still to this day, I use Marijuana on an almost daily basis, it's a wonder drug. I don't care if you have anxiety, depression, OCD, it helps with it all. I will say however, if you are prone to anxiety attacks, be careful what type of pot you smoke, and how much. Smoking too much can and WILL cause anxiety attacks, many people say the Indica variety is better for anxiety, however, I find the Saltiva works best, find your nitch and stick with it. The group of goons with which I chose to associate exploited my lack of knowlegde on the subject, having me steal over 1,000 dollars worth in high grade Marijuana I was told was only worth about 300. The goon whom I gave it to manipulated my ignorance by telling me we'd sell what I took, reinvest it, and we'd have all this money. Two weeks later he claimed another person in the clique had stolen it when he left it there and went out of town for a weekened to his father's house. Maybe three weeks after that my house got raided. Three days after the first raid, another raid took place at which point they found about 11 ounces of Marijuana. I was never charged in connection with it, but it did put a pretty big target on my head. After this point, I began suffering from a very severe depression. Two months after the raid I began dating a girl who was about a year and nine months younger than me. When we met, she was a total square. She hated the fact that I smoked and occiasionally had a few drinks with the guys. I had real feelings for this girl. She however suffered from a wide array of mental illness herself. She had attached herself much to an internet personality who called herself Luna, who claimed to be Schizophrenic. Because I had severe mental illnesses, and I didn't hide them, this girl assumed that I was proliferating them to be more than they were, and that I was making people like her "look like they were liars" so she tried to break us up. When it wouldn't work, she deleted every trace of her existence from the internet and said she had committed suicide. This had led my girlfriend to do the same, after many hours of sheer mental torment and summoning many other people to assist, I managed to talk her out of that. After about two months, the ordeal with my drug use had come to a head, after a long drawn out argument, I convinced her what I did wasn't that big of a deal. However, she still absolutely opposed my use of Marijuana. I should have run at this point, I should have run like hell and never came back. I was a stupid kid who'd just turned 15 and thought I was in love. It was sometime in the month of May, we'd gone our seperate ways, I went for a night out with two of my best friends, we drank an ungodly amount of liquor and in the course of the night tried to start a bonfire with kerosene, made a Molotov cocktail out of a soda can and a sock, and all kinds of other just weird ass shit. Throughout this night, I had an uneasy feeling, for a good reason. I awoke the next morning before departing for the city to help an uncle of mine for some side cash to a horrifying message. Now this last night I spent with the guys, she went to a party herself. The party was at a "friend's" house. The friend, named Evan, was a boy which she had lost her virginity to, and had constantly been trying to make sexual advances on her throughout our relationship. At this party, she got drunk, because of my whole rantings about drinking and smoking not being bad. Evan's older brother, Patrick, had taken advantage of her and forced himself on her. It turned out he got her pregnant, to which I blew a gasket. I said I didn't give two fucks, if she carried this dude's child I would never associate myself with her ever again. So, on a family trip to Florida her uncle paid for an abortion. Her uncle was rich, but never disclosed how he made tens of thousands of dollars, and how as a child her aunt was murdered by some people, and how they threatened to kill her if they found her, so they moved far away. I theorized that he was involved with a drug cartel, it was the only explaination to string all these events together, but I was never able to confirm this. Maybe a few months later, a new kid named Zack shoved his way into the picture. He got her to smoke pot, to which she still opposed, but also got her to start smoking cigarettes and snorting cocaine. Yet again, I blew a fucking gasket. I made it clear Cocaine was a drug which I really opposed the use of, and I said this guy was a predator, he was simply trying to bleed her of her money since she was from a consdierably wealthy family, and try to exploit her for sexual favors in return for drugs. This led me to start smoking cigarettes myself, which would become an on and off habit of mine. At this time, I was about two weeks from starting my Sophomore year of high school. I began seeing a psychiatrist again, who began prescribing me Klonapin and Methylphenidate for Anxiety and ADHD. Two weeks later, I had joined up with a friend from my previous exploits, who had just began his Freshman year, a young man named John, and a young woman named Claire, who had both begun their Junior years. John suffered from a heart attack a year before, which had been his reason for transfering to my school, and Claire's mother had been dating the father of an influential member of this small ass town. She had been around the man who supposedly stole my Marijuana, because the son of the man her mother was dating had filed for emancipation and moved in with them. We called ourselves "Stoner Boner" a clique for outcasts who smoke weed. John had moved in with a long time friend, Shay, who lived in town. So for many days, we'd spend our lazy September afternoons sitting on Shay's front porch smoking Newports and having a damn good time. Claire lived atop the church less than a block away, the other member of our group had lived two blocks down the opposite direction, we were like a happy family. Despite being in a relationship, I had developed feelings for Claire, so had John. She fairly quickly rejected John, and I had tried winning her over with my medications, since she had been an avid Xanax user, and my Klonapin being in the same family Benzodiazapines as Xanax, I was paid handsomely. The day after I gave her one half milligram Klonapin she had given me two gold dollar she stole from her mother, despite me saying it was free, and that it was a favor. My father had taken a liking to her as well, he'd let her come over, smoke with us, he'd bum her cigarettes, give her soda, bake pies for her and her family, considering they were fairly poor. He even have her a bud which was supposed to be for her and her mother, but instead invited the gang over the next day for, which I didn't really complain about, but was kind of offended by. Soon after this, our gang had our falling out. John had finally passed his urine test, and had been accepted into Job Core, for which he'd leave soon after. Claire would later leave to the same destination to live with friends, we didn't speak after this. With her gone, my attention focused back again on my girlfriend, whom had begun to turn me away with her drug habit, she had begun selling cocaine, using the drug too seriously, and had developed an addiction. I told her she needed to stop, but no matter how hard I tried, I couldn't break free. She soon began hanging around a group of meth heads, which at this point, it was December, I finally ended it. She took many pain pills in a suicide attempt, and ultimately needed a liver transplant, she survived. Our ties continued for a while, but I had decided she was causing me more pain than anything, and I finally sent her away for good. Between this time frame, I had become horribly depressed, suicidal, and spent much of my time despirate for anyone who would make me feel loved. Soon after, I met Darion. A strange emo kid who had moved to town, and had suffered from some of the same issues I had. We became very close friends. Eventually, we began smoking together at a tepee we found out in the woods. The tepee was an escape from reality, we'd spend many nights out there having a good time. This point is when Claire came back into the picture. She had moved back from the city after a falling out, and brought back a large quantity of Marijuana and Magic Mushrooms, a bunch she gave to one of the other kids in town as an apology for stealing his Tool album, to which he replied "They sucked. Stay away from me unless you're bringing back my CD and after that stay the fuck away" At this point, me and Claire had reconsiled our differences, the other guy from our group came around, along with a kid named Justice whom I had threatened with a sword after he refused to leave a couple years before. We all smoked at the tepee and ultimately decided we'd trip on the mushrooms in the following few days. In a drug fueled rampage, we all began doing things to make the tepee "habitable" like installing a firepit, an entryway, we used the dry grass to cover the holes in the tepee and waterproof it, we even went as far as to carry a park bench down a backwood trail to have seating inside it. Claire had brought the mushrooms and a jar of peanut butter "Because they taste like fucking shit otherwise" Which, no fucking wonder, they grow on shit. The trip was interesting, we spent most of our time doing really stupid shit, like throwing the peanut butter jar at a bunch of concrete dumped in the woods we named "The concrete jungle" then burned it, along with a tire, which made a huge signal of our location and caused us issues later on. Within two weeks, a friend of mine and I were down there, thankfully not doing anything wrong, when multiple squad cars rolled up on us, probably attempting to make an arrest in connection with drugs, but found no evidence, nothing but a bunch of sugar, a box of matches, and some random junk we dug out of the forest. We told them it was just a place to hang out we found while walking in the woods. They replied "Well don't burn the damn place down" then whispired into a walkie talkie "We're gonna have to come check this out later" We decided to abandon the site and warned the rest of everyone who knew about it to stay away (R.I.P. The Tepee). Shortly after, we began hanging around with two brothers, Joel and Jake, their older sister Jessica, who was pregnant with her boyfriend Michael's child. We'd all sit around smoking dope, sometimes sneaking out at midnight and staying until 4-5 in the morning. I soon began making midnight runs to trade them my methylphenidate and klonapin for weed, despite being subject to their drunken rampages, I was never much one for street violence. I was around long enough to see Jessica's child be born, and to see Joel finally get his crush. We had a smoking spot we called "The Hidden Leaf Village" which we'd always laugh about because of the Naruto reference (Since Jake was an avid fan of the Naruto manga). At this point, the other guy from Stoner Boner and Claire had begun dating, everyone kept saying he was going to get "Clairemydia" which I must admit, was kind of hilarious. So one night we all decided to go get a bag of weed at midnight from a guy named Nate, the same Nate who stole my weed, he apologized for it later, and I said fuck it, he had competetive prices and I was using them to manipulate this really hot chick I'll admit I just wanted to bang. No shame. So we got the weed, and after a lengthy dare about how many lung rips I could smoke (I counted about thirty) we took an ecology trail to run into the train tracks back to Jake's house, instead, the three of us all got lost in the woods. Conincidentally, the police showed up for a 911 call across the street, and we assumed they were there for us since we seen lights, after hiding out for about thirty minutes, being eaten alive by mosquitos and ripped apart by thorns, we sobered up enough to realize the tracks we were looking for were right behind us. We lost our bag of weed, which created the events of my ultimate unraveling. Days later after unsuccessfuly finding the weed, I gave Justice a large amount of methylphenidate to go look for the weed, to no avail. We later wandered over to a friend's house, who had just come home from up north, and stole a large amount of booze. After getting extremely intoxicated, we took a drunken stumble home during which I fell and scarred my knee to this day, drunk dialed a weed dealer, and lost my phone, which was recovered the next day by the police. I awoke to a nasty hangover and some pretty pissed off parents. After I got off work that night, I was called to the police station, under the presumption that they were to return my phone. Instead, I ended up being taken into an interrogation room. I stuck to the story the whole gang had devised, in case we ever got in trouble, we all got the drugs in question from "Tom" the nickname Nate used when being referenced to those on the outside (AKA That chick I was trying to bang) Instead, Justice spilled his guts. I was ultimately refered charges for three counts of Delivery of Schedule I/Schedule II Narcotics, one for that night, one for an instance six months prior where I took his money to buy weed, came back, and smoked said weed with him, and one for a year prior where I gave him one Klonapin. After spending 3,500 dollars on an attorney, I settled out ot a deferrred prosecution agreement thanks to my documented mental illnesses, conditions of which I had to take a monthly drug test for 6 months, see a psychiatrist again, do 20 hours of community service, and go to school. I managed to complete those, but not being able to smoke was very hard on me. This point I turned to psychedelics, I liked my shrooms experience, and decided to dive deeper into the realm. Since I couldn't find a reputable acid dealer, I decided to try some kitchen chemistry, Lysergic Acid Amide from Morning Glory seeds. I bought five packs of about 1.5g heavenly blue morning glory seeds, it cost me less than ten dollars. Trying to chew and swallow all the seeds was disgusting, and followed about 2 and a half hours of nausea, which eventually subsided into a long, strange trip. My TV began to shift and sway in a waving motion, I stared at that with a blacklight listening to Tool's 10,000 Days album and Pink Floyd's Dark Side Of The Moon. After I got up, I felt like I was walking on air, I started laughing uncontrollably, I felt absolutely amazing. I decided to settle into sleep, I felt like my bed had disappeared out from under me, and my door told me I should drop out of high school to be a pharmacology connasuier (Yeah, weird right). After this, I fell in love with psychedelics. I tried LSA again, greeted with the inability to eat all the seeds, and a much greater feeling of nausea as I did it more during the day to feel the full trip, after the nausea wore off, I took a car ride to the hardware store with my old man to buy speaker wire for the stereo system we had begun setting up while I was on the drug. The ride was amazing. While at the store I went to fetch a cart, I walked past the corralls completely mesmerised, I got so confused, I tried asking an employee without laughing my ass off "Hey man. where's the carts" with which he replied "Right outside the door" I went and got one, at which point my old man was pretty pissed about me wandering, I said I didn't notice and that employee said they were all outside, to which he replied "Fucking lazy ass nigger doesn't want to do his own job piece of shit" Although the trip was amazing, after that, I mainly stuck with the use of LSD. Since then, I have become an avid fan of LSD and Marijuana, and find that using both together is an amazing ride. I currently am an indie game designer, who uses psychdelics to solve programming issues, and dream up new characters and designs. I am open to any questions, and I hope that my story has enlightened you in some way. Thank you for taking the time to read my story.
This is an amazing story. If your life were a biography, it'd be a huge sensation. Everything from start to finish was gripping. Parts of it I can relate to, but parts just leave me with my mouth open... and I mean that as a compliment. You have gone through some serious Hell, but you've *lived* your life. And it shows. Thanks so much for sharing your story with us!
I've often used psychedelics to cope with various problems. Ironically, I've never used them creatively. I think it's amazing that you're able to do both. I advocate the legalisation and responsible use of psychedelics. How many great artists, musicians, and now apparently game designers have used them? How many people bemoan their use while appreciating the work that these people have produced?
Keep the faith.
I was sincerely touched by your account of your girlfriend. I too dated someone who was a wonderful, remarkable human being, who had a problem with drugs; it became so bad that I had to end it. He eventually found someone who helped him to feel good about who he was without falling back on drug use; it took me a while to recognize that this wasn't because of anything that was "wrong" with me, but I ultimately did recognize that we just weren't compatible. He's happy now, I love my life with who I'm with, and we're still good friends -- without any tension, or anything like that.
You have my best wishes for the future, though it sounds like you're doing quite well on your own!
You can write about anything that is important to you – your whole life, personal trauma or events that have affected you in the past.Share Your Story
The thing about depression is, in my opinion, that it is a disease of which you can never be cured. Once depression has you in its grips there is no escape. You do have a choice though, you can allow it to consume you or you can slightly loosen its grip.
Depression is something that I have lived with from over ten years and I can count on one hand the amount of people who know that about me.
I don't even really know why I'm writing this. I guess it's just an outlet to vent my feelings and frustrations. I don't actually expect anything to become of this.
I don't really even know where to begin. This will probably just turn into a ramble. So be it.
I'm a 20 year old from the US who feels like they're living a lie. I go to community college, live with...