All in all it was a bad trip.

I am seriously going to blog about this.

The other night J & I were having a bit of action. Action = wacky tobacky. We partake from time to time. It is a great stress relief, it cures all of my aches & pains & well, I just enjoy it.

Well, I did enjoy it. Until Saturday night.

We were out in the backyard having a few hits before bed when all of a sudden I had one hit too many. I mean, really, I only had 3, but this stuff was potent. And, by the time I went inside I could hardly stand. Great role model for my sleeping children, btw. Luckily, they were seriously sleeping.

I got upstairs & started panicking. My heart was racing. My mind was spinning. And, I told J to call 911. Para. Which, thankfully he did not do. I seriously thought I was dying & now that I'm in a sober state of mind, I cringe to think that I almost made an ass of myself by going to the hospital on a pot overdose.

J held me for an hour with his hand on my chest. No, he wasn't molesting me. He was making me feel comfortable by keeping track of my heart rate. That is love, baby. I ended up nodding in & out & at one point I jumped in my sleep. This started the panic attack all over again. I fought sleep thinking if I closed my eyes I wouldn't wake up. I was praying. I was asking for forgiveness of all of my sins & boy, that took at least an hour! If not more...

I remember telling J that it was laced with something, but yet, he was fine. Finally, I snoozed & in the morning I felt completely fine, except for a headache from not getting enough sleep. And, I'm pretty sure my action days are over. For now. I don't need to ever feel like I'm dying again, unless I really am.

So.

Yeah.

Done.