Story time: Taking valium at 15 during school!
At 15, I decided it would be a great idea to take 10mg of Valium before school. I was also a small guy, so it probably hit me way harder than I expected.
The first two hours? Gone. Just a complete blackout. The first thing I do remember is being in my second lesson, sitting right at the front of the class with my AirPods in, absolutely blasting Lil Peep. And apparently, I was singing—loudly. Everyone was just staring at me.
The teacher kept asking me to take my AirPods out, and each time, I’d take one out, wait like three seconds, and then just put it back in. She must have asked at least six times before she just gave up and moved on. I guess I never really caused trouble before, so she just let it slide.
After that lesson ended, I completely forgot I had taken anything. Went to grab food from the cafeteria and, for some reason, picked the nastiest, most disgusting snack they had. I forced myself to eat it for no reason at all. Then I went to see my friends and suddenly remembered I had a nicotine patch. It was one of those for smokers trying to quit, but I had found it in my sister’s room and thought it would give me a mega nicotine rush.
So I slap it on my arm—mind you, I hadn’t used much nicotine before. Shortly after my friends start telling me I’m slurring my words so bad they can’t even understand me. Meanwhile, I litter the obvious nicotine patch wrapper right in front of a teacher. Somehow, they didn’t notice.
I get to my next lesson and start feeling so sick. After about 30 minutes, I finally rip the patch off, but at that point, the damage was done. Worst of all, I had a test. Before it even starts, I’m already slumped over my desk. When the teacher hands me my paper, I slur out a super loud “ThAnk yOO,” and everyone looks at me like I just lost my mind.
For the first 15 minutes, I’m just talking way too loudly about how hard the test is, completely ignoring the fact that it’s supposed to be silent. I’m also fighting so hard to stay awake, but eventually, I just give up. The words on the page don’t even look like English—more like some kind of alien language.
By the end of the test, I wake up with half the class staring at me. Luckily, they all just assumed I had greened out from weed. I drag myself up to my teacher, apologize like crazy for not finishing, and say I was super sick. She totally buys it, probably because I looked pale as hell.
Then comes the worst part—I can barely walk. I have to get carried down three flights of stairs by my friends because between the Valium and the nicotine sickness, my legs just weren’t working. I end up in the medical room, and my parents have to come pick me up. When they arrive, I’m literally holding onto the walls just to stay upright.
I get in the car and tell my dad I got food poisoning from that disgusting snack I ate earlier. No clue if he actually believed me, but at the time, it seemed like a solid excuse. The next thing I remember, I wake up on the couch feeling amazing, maybe only an hour later. My parents asked if I took anything, but I don’t even remember if they meant drugs or just food. Either way, they never brought it up again, and that was the end of it.