ADULT STUFF

I read recently that in the nineteenth century, when the use of hashish paste had become common in western European cities, and its possible therapeutic uses were being explored, that the only recommendation that could be made for its use was that doctors should take it so that they know what it feels like to be insane. I could relate. I started smoking cannabis regularly, in one form or another, at the age of thirteen, but recently gave up when I came to understand the role its use had played in what I call My Mental Breakdown. I started smoking CBD instead, like an alcoholic drinking non-alcoholic beer, and felt much better for it.
  But then tonight I got spiked. I was drugged. I’d just smoked one of my CBD “spliffs” when I began to feel a bit strange. At first I thought I was having some sort of mental break. I thought about the project I am currently working on – promoting the tape I have made by releasing it a track at a time online – and I felt, suddenly, for pretty much the first time, self-doubt and uncomfortable levels of self-consciousness about it. Anxiety, I suppose. I thought I was having a mental break. Then I remembered that I’d forgotten to take my happy pills. 

  I spiral. 

  I think about going to work in the morning. I feel panicky. How can I stand there – me! – in front of a room of mostly sullen teenagers and teach them something, and make sure they behave sensibly at the same time. How are such feats ever achieved, I think, let alone by me. Oh shit, I think. I’m going to have to call in sick, I think. People are going to worry about me, I think. Maybe I really am quite a sick person, I think. The kids were having a bath. Focus on the kids, I think. They are none the wiser, I think. They haven’t got a clue, I think. God, they’re so beautiful, I think. I love them so much, I think. I study their faces. They are a part of me but so much more their own. They are speaking some complete and utter nonsense. I’m high, I think. J___ asks me for a cup and a person. She says she needs them. The cup is no trouble, but the person proves more difficult. Wife gives me a figure. The absurdity of it makes me laugh. Like, she "needs" a person and a cup, I say. I offer the figure to J___. Thanks, she says, but no. Why not, I say, what’s wrong with it. I don’t want to get it wet, she says. Why not, I say. It might get mouldy, she says. I go to get a different person. Try this one, wife says, handing me a figure. I offer it to J___. Thanks, she says, but no. Why not, I say, what’s wrong with this one. Nothing, she says, put it somewhere safe. It’s important, she says. Important, I say. Yes, she says. Right, I say. You’re not going back a third time, are you, says wife. Yes, I say, I’ve got to get it right. There you are, I say, offering J___ a third figure. That’s perfect, she says. Wife is making the beds. I think I got stoned off that last thing I smoked, I say. Wife explains. She’d used my grinder for her real stuff. She thought she’d got rid of it all. OK, I think, that explains it. I’m not having a mental break. I’m not going to have to call in sick. I laugh. I thought I was having some sort of mental break, I say. Wife laughs. You spiked me, I say. Take a deep breath, she says. When I was younger I used to pass out when I got too stoned, and I hear that old note of worry in wife’s voice. I go back to the kids. Focus on the kids, I think. They’re happy. I pick up a figure and start playing. The kids laugh. I laugh. Wife starts playing my song, HIGH, that I just released a couple of weeks ago. I don’t want to get high any more, go the lyrics. I’ve done it too many times before. I cringe. Is it really bad, I think. But I ease into it. I’m quite enjoying it by the end. Wife comes in the bathroom. I’m sitting on the floor. I stand up. We laugh. I guess the kids don’t see us laughing like this very much. It freaks them out. Why are you laughing so much, says J___. What are you laughing about. Nothing, says wife. Adult stuff, she adds. People used to say that to us all the time when we were kids. Adult stuff.