Getting out of hand

So there were four of us living in one house in Manchester. We were all on similar courses at uni, and we even went out together sometimes. The rest of the time we were drunk, stoned or tripping.
We were doing it for months – all the time, but mostly the pot, everyday, all day.

One of my mates started to become really hyperactive. He was staying up late into the night and just doing really weird things like baking cakes, or moving all the posters off one wall and putting them on another wall. It was funny at first, but started to get annoying.

Then he got some really bad news – his Dad had died. This just sent him into super hyper drive.
He carried on with the drugs but didn’t deal with his grief. I couldn’t settle him down.

He was awake for about 4-5 days straight. I came down one morning and found all of the furniture in the kitchen piled up to the ceiling and underneath it was my mate in his pants freezing cold wide awake.
He was totally switched off. He wasn’t responding to anything. I couldn’t talk to him.

All I could do was phone his mum. She came and picked him up, took him home, and admitted him to a psychiatric ward where he was sectioned for months.
That was it, I was on my own. All I could do was skin up. It didn’t taste that good.

All four of us can look back at that time now and have a laugh at it. We are all still close and meet up every year. We learnt a lot about ourselves and each other. We are all OK. We still have the scars – some of them physical, some of them mental. Some of them big, some of them small. But we all pulled through.
None of us were able to deal with things in the right way. I loved them all and there was no need for all that.


I got that story of www.talktofrank.com It offers free drug advice on the phone, online and now by msn with the frank botg.
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