Drug Abuse | A Sad Story of An Addicted Smoker By Adetoki Pelumi
The first time I ever smoked was when I was eighteen. I was in my 200 level then, and I had
been invited to a house party I originally didn’t want to go for. But a friend convinced me, and I eventually ended up going.
Somewhere in the middle of that party, they began to pass around weed that had been
wrapped up in paper and already been lit. I watched the look on people’s face as they inhaled and puffed, and I figured that was all I had to do. I couldn’t say no when everybody else was smoking, so when the paper got to me, I inhaled and tried to puff. What I didn’t expect was to break out in a bout of coughs. I vaguely remember someone thumping me on my back and offering me a drink, which turned out to be alcohol.
It’s apt to say that I got so high that night I lost my consciousness. The next morning, I woke up with the worst hangover ever and swore that I would never take those things again.
Unfortunately, my neighbor too also smoke. He used to smoke a lot that I was quite sure I would have tested positive if a test was carried out to check if I smoked. Because we were both guys, he used to offer me some weed whenever he smoked, but I always declined, remembering the first day I took some weed.
A few acquaintances used to laugh whenever I declined. They used to jabber on and on about how weed was beneficial, so much that I actually got tempted to give in and actually smoke again, especially for the thrill of being high once again. Then I heard that a friend of theirs who smoked a lot became insane and had to be rushed to a hospital.
I actually google searched, and I discovered that weed did have some values, but the side
effects outnumbered the advantages. I reminded myself that too much of everything was
definitely not good.
I always assumed that the worst that my neighbor had going for him was just the weed he
smoked and was already so much addicted to, until the day I received a shock. I entered his
room to borrow something without knocking, and I saw him bent over a piece of paper on his table, his nose was quite close to the paper.
Then, he turned to look at me and I saw that his eyes were slightly glazed over and he looked a bit frantic. His nose was covered in white powder, and the realization slowly dawned on me. He had been sniffing cocaine.
It was through him that I learnt that a lot of drugs could be misused. Even a drug as innocent as a cough syrup could be used to get high. I kept getting shocked every time I discovered a new method of drug misuse (drug abuse). And I never looked at drugs the same way again, because I believed that everything could be used for an evil purpose.
Then, one day, I got back from school and there were so many people in the hostel. I wondered what was wrong and I looked around to ask my neighbor. I found him in his room, laying on his bed. He was the reason why there were so many people around.
Apparently, his stroke of weed had finished, and he urgently needed to get high, so he had
used one of those drugs to substitute. He had died of a drug overdose (drug abuse).
What a loss!
Drug Abuse Brought The End of Existence