This is my first post here and I just wanted to say I'm glad I finally found somewhere that I can talk to people and have them all understand what I'm going through.
Life has been a mess lately and it seems my emet. is amplifying as I get older. I'm only 19 now and I sure hope it doesn't continue on like this.
Anyways, I decided to post in the relationships section because one of the most mentally scarring nights in my life ended up leading me to fall in love with the most amazing guy I've ever met.
You see, me and my boyfriend are both pretty experimental with drugs and such. But back when this incident happened, I never really related drugs with v*ing cause I'd just never seen it happen before.
Well, back when we first started dating, I told him about my fear, and I assumed he understood. But one night he had received a gift from his friend, a bag of pills. I didn't know how many he had popped, and apparently he was too out of it to remember. Throughout the night we had met up with 3 other people so we had a full car and we're having quite a blast. I was sitting in the passenger seat and he was driving. We had just gotten out of a residential area and onto a main street when I looked over at him and he didn't look right. I asked him if he was okay, and he replied "Yes baby, I'm fine." Ten seconds later he was opening his door, swerving into the other lane, and v*ing out the side of the car. This set me off into the worst panic attack I've ever had in my life. I had no idea why he was getting sick. I ended up balling up in the seat, plugging my ears ( which is an instant reaction I have every single time I see/hear/think someones going to v*), and screaming at the top of my lungs. Eventually the people in the back of the seat go him to stop the car and I immediately jumped out, ran a few feet down the road and collapsed. A few minutes later my boyfriend walked up to me and tried to get me off the ground. I wouldnt let him touch me. I didnt even want to look at him. The rest of our friends eventually got out of the car and all convinced me that he hadn't actually v*ed. He just thought he was going to. So we all got back into the car, but he got into the back seat because I wasn't about to let him drive like that. Well, as you can probably guess, once the car got started moving, I look over at him and he's making that same face again. Of course, I start screaming, and they rip the car over to the side of the curb and get him out as fast as possible. At this point we realize he's OD'ing. After v*ing about 5 or 6 times, one of the other guys gets sick and I'm freaking out, running down the street bawling like a maniac and end up passing out on someones front lawn. Eventually they got me in someone else's car, and we drive behind him and his friends back to his house. They had to carry him up to his room and let him sleep.
I cried so much that night. Not only out of fear but because I cared about him so much. I didn't want to see him die this young because of some stupid drug.
That night was when he realized that I was completely serious when I said I was scared. Since then he promised he would never touch those drugs again, and never put me through something that terrible.
Now, he's the greatest boyfriend I could ever ask for. He completely respects my fears, gets me water every time I start panicking, covers my ears or eyes when someone's about to get sick or even on TV, and tells people to shut it if they ever mention v*ing around me.
Anyways, that was my story. Hope you we're at least a little bit interested.



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