by Noise Pollution

When I used to use, I would often abuse cough medicine. It was not a good thing. It is one of the most unhealthy things you can do to your body and your brain. It doesn’t even feel good while you’re high on it. But I’d do it anyway. I’d do it because it didn’t feel good.

Cough medicine is not a “pussy drug.” It is fucking rough, and I got higher than I had ever gotten before or since on cough medicine. It’s a dissociative, meaning that it makes you feel separated from your thoughts and body. It is an out-of-body experience in liquid form.

Of course, this only happens if you do enough. I used to down two bottles of the stuff, and trying to drink two bottles of cough syrup is about as horrible as you imagine it to be. The first gulp is easy. The rest are a fucking nightmare of trying to hold down puke. The puking had to wait for later.

I spent huge portions of my nights vomiting, feeling like I was going to die, and I was doing it on purpose. There was nothing in the world as exciting to me at that time as looking at my own death. I wanted the suffering that came with the drug. I wanted to come face-to-face with all of my demons, and I did. I found everything I hated about myself and brought it all up to the surface of my skin, where everyone else could see. I found all of my fears, and found out that I couldn’t actually face them, so I buried them again.

There was a night when my friends and I carved marks into each other’s backs. We all have scars from that night, physical and mental. My best friend spent ten days in the psych unit as a result. The rest of us just shook in the parking lot near his house, trying not to lose it. We went home without saying much to each other. It was a bad time for everyone.

But did that stop us? No. We kept going and going until I got to the point where drinking cough syrup became so difficult for me to do that I had to quit. Once I quit, it was only a matter of time before the rest of them quit, since we couldn’t all do it together anymore.

Quitting that garbage is one of the best things I ever did. It was never a good experience, it was only a good story.

I guess the reason I wrote all that is both to get it off my chest and to warn people not to fucking touch the stuff in a recreational context. Nobody should ever, ever, do what I did. I broke a whole lot of things inside of me. I went through some scary shit using that stuff. I don’t want anybody else to go through the same.

Also, as a side note, if that wasn’t enough to steer people away, you should never abuse cough medicine if you are taking any sort of anti-depressant. When cough syrup is taken in high doses, the mixture between it and antidepressants will kill you, and it won’t be a calm, quiet and painless death, either.