#id add other tags but like i can't say this is harm reduction when the first half of this is fucking whump

[rough-and-whump]

RWT: Drugged Edition

I know I did a RWT: Spoken Word on drugged scenarios, but I was so inspired by a recent post from @thewhumpster that I needed to write a whole other collection of whumpy thoughts.

This post is informed by my own experience with drugs (weed, alcohol, painkillers), my research as an aspiring psychonaut, and then the rest is just whumpy fluff because why not?

[There’s a bit of an “Author’s Note” about drugs at the bottom - but for now - to the whump!]

Psychedelics/Hallucinogens

A whumpee who is very experienced in psychedelics/hallucinogens/harder drugs is dosed with something he knows is bad news. He’s tried it once before, cautiously and with a lot of preparation, but it was still horrible and he never felt tempted to try it again. He’s been dosed with the equivalent of a heroic dose, and the come up is just starting - he knows panicking will make it worse, but he’s so fucking terrified. (might do a write up of this with the Sarge’s surprisingly delinquent bf, Dai)

A caretaker - who appears to the team to be a straight-and-narrow type - is thrown into the spotlight when the whumpee comes back having just been dosed with their first psychedelic. The whumpee is already falling to anxiety and spiraling into a bad trip. No one knows what to do and the tension in the room is making it worse. The caretaker breaks their silence, carries the whumpee into a small room, cozies it up and proceeds to trip sit of the fucking year. They reassure the whumpee, make them comfortable, talk about whatever (idk yet what a shroom convo sounds like), etc. They manage to get the whumpee calm, keep them reassured, etc. Finally, the whumpee falls asleep and the caretaker can leave them to sleep - with every intention of coming back in just a second - so they leave the room. Once the door closes behind them, they sink to the floor, shaking and breaking down. Finally letting themselves express the fear and terror they felt the entire time, but forced down so that they wouldn’t trigger a bad trip for the whumpee.

A whumpee’s terror at what’s actually fairly mundane things, amplified by a strong hallucinogen that induces paranoia and fear.

A heavily drugged whumpee is sent out - unarmored and unarmed - into the middle of some sort of active battlefield. They’re delirious, starved, sleep deprived, and barely able to walk. Visuals, distortions and complete removal of a sense of reality overwhelm them. Can the whumper feel what’s going on? Are they afraid? What do you think they see? What does their side of the fight do? Are they even on a side in this fight?

Painkillers

Our whumpee is a high-powered businesswoman. Some sort of executive, she’s the sort of woman who commands a room the second her high-heels meet the marble flooring. But she’s not only addicted to painkillers, she can’t function without them. Her doctor has told her she’ll die of liver failure before she’s 50 if she keeps going the way she is. She has trouble sleeping, struggles with heart palpitations, and can’t even remember what it’s like not on the pills. But she craves the light-headed disorientation that comes with an excessive dose. She needs it. Can’t deal with all these people, all the dresses, all the fucking high heels, without them. 

A poor naive cinnamon roll whumpee accidentally (maybe a mislabeled bottle, or they grabbed a handful and went for it out of desperation) takes too many painkillers. As they start to feel loopy, they freak out. It’s like they can feel their heart pounding, they feel like their eyes are wigging out, and they don’t know if they’re walking straight. 

Fictional/Fantasy Drugs

[Fictional] A drug enhances Powers, and a poor whumpee has been injected. Do they suffer from horrible side-effects as their Powers increase? Are the side effects from their Power or the drug? Do they struggle to control their powers and end up doing something they regret? Or making a costly mistake?

[Fantasy] A friend in the party is a lycan - but it’s a secret, and no one knows. All they know is she brews a special tea and enjoys it nightly, and drinks it nearly constantly some days (DC 12 Investigation reveals those are days surrounding the full moon). A curious little rascal in the party sneaks some of the tea - and discovers it has horrible consequences for non-lycans. How does the party react?

[Fictional] In a sci-fi world, there’s a rare drug that’s actually a sort of self-contained virus. A naive rookie (here comes #FuturePD again) tries to infiltrate a local dealer’s circle and gets caught. He’s injected with the drug and he’s entirely unfamiliar with how to navigate it - what’s his reaction? What are the sensations? Is he suggestable irl? Is he locked in his own mind with his body free to control?

Bonus Scenarios!

Bonus to the Psychedelics/Hallucinogens 2: The team confronts the caretaker after check up number 3 on the sleeping whumpee. They demand to know why/how the caretaker knows so much about this (maybe they’re suspicious that the caretaker might’ve been working in league with the whumper?). The caretaker admits that they use psychedelics regularly, including microdosing, which is the only way they could keep up with the team. Considering caretaker is their key tactician, this surprises the group - they’ve always been the “smart one”. The caretaker is afraid of the team’s reactions, considering they think that everyone else is straight and narrow types. 

Bonus to Psychedelics/Hallucinogens 2: The Caretaker reveals to the team later that they were raised to think using anything “additional” was not only a weakness but a sin. The drugs Caretaker uses now are almost a sign of their progress in breaking out of the “conditioning” their family put them through growing up.

[Author’s Note time: I am getting all preachy and all political. If that’s not your jam, gtfo quick. Don’t @ me, bruh. If that be your jam, tho, proceed with caution and remind yourself that I’m some idiot on Tumblr and not a fuckin’ doctor. 

Continued under the break.] 

So, I do drugs. Weed, namely, but I do intend to trip on shrooms soon.

Growing up, I never even knew where to get weed. Since legalization I’ve been using it more and more. I’ve found many benefits from it and it’s changed how I think about drugs.

Sometimes it’s easy to forget that caffeine, tobacco, and alcohol are all drugs. Sometimes it’s easy to accept side-effects from drugs we can buy from the pharmacy. Sometimes it’s easy to forget that drugs like weed, LSD, shrooms, and others have legitimate and actual medical use.

That said, it’s also easy to wave a magic wand or put on green glasses and think “hey, it’s a medicine, so I can use it for anything”.

There’s a difference between using a drug as recreation or medication and abusing it to the point of dependency.

I used to pop 4 platinum robax in the parking lot before I dragged myself into the office (this was years ago now) and have 4-12 more throughout the day. Because the mindless disorientation made it easier to deal with the shit I was seeing at work and the abuse my bosses doled out. I continued this for 3 months. 

I would almost always be dizzy. It became something like my goal to always be somewhat “off”. Because then at least I wasn’t confronting my reality.

That didn’t work out well for me. I had to go on medical leave within 6 months. I was a wreck physically for about a year, and it’s only recently that I feel like I’ve finally gotten all that robax out of my system.

Getting out of that shithole, getting psychological help, and getting a diagnosis for Generalized Anxiety Disorder did help. And now, after two years of pharmaceutical SSRIs and therapy, I’m beginning to transition away from pharmaceutical SSRIs. I don’t want to have to take drugs my whole life, but if I must, I’d rather take CBD oil made out of a plant and MCT oil than something synthesized in a lab that has a marked chance of giving me liver failure, increased risk of heart disease, etc.

Seeking psychological help is healthy - it doesn’t mean you’re “weak” or you’re “crazy” or anything like that. It just means you need some help from a professional life-problem solver. Who happens to know how to talk you in circles enough that your own brain starts finally listening to you and not your insecurities and demons.

Anyways. That’s it for Rough being a pontificating bitch. I have whump to do.

Be safe, do drugs, practice harm reduction.