My Bad Trip
|Innocent Dawn~ Age 6|
I want to start off today's post by saying, I have never tried drugs of any kind. There's no "wink, wink" after that or even an "I didn't inhale."
I just never tried them. I was terrified of needles so, you know, that's out. I also had terrible allergies which meant I certainly wasn't smoking, sniffing or snorting. I've actually never even tried cigarettes.
Yeah, I know. I'm boring. Anyway...
I think part of the reason I avoided them so staunchly was because of one bad trip.
My Dad was out of town so Mom tucked me in her bed and we drifted peacefully into dreamland.
At some point in the middle of the night, I opened my eyes and this was staring back at me.
*Cartoon version of BIG, SCARY, SPIDER used here so I don't have flashbacks!*
In my 5 year old mind, I convinced myself that it was impossible a spider THAT big was sitting on my chest, looking at me. The blankets must have become twisted to look like a spider. Yes, that was it. All I had to do was smooth out the blankets and it would be gone.
I held my breathe, counted to three (twice, because I chickened out the first time) and WHACKED the blanket spider...which didn't move.
Terrified I turned to my sleeping mother and saw hundreds of these:
scurrying around her, no doubt preparing to cart her off into space.
And that would be when I started screaming.
Now, I should interrupt here and explain I had night terrors as a child. The problem with having night terrors is that when you are fully awake, hysterically babbling about giant spiders and little green men, your Mom tends to not take you as seriously as you would like.
Mom thought I was asleep.
She wrapped her arms around me to keep me from physically fleeing the bed, which I had every intention of doing.
At some point during my incoherent battle to escape, movement in my mother's dresser mirror caught my attention.
This guy was waving at me.
I instantaneously went from terror-filled to laughing.
"Look, mommy! Cookie Monster is in your mirror! He thinks I am going to give him my cookie, but I'm not going to."
Then... I passed out.
First in the morning, we were sitting in a doctor's office. He declared the rash was not an allergic reaction, but the chicken pox.
The experience the night before had not been a night terror, but hallucinations brought on by the fever.
I will admit for years afterward, I would sneak a peak into my parents' room and check the mirror.
Just in case Cookie Monster ever decided to come back.