I Found Molly In My Drink Bottle
This series is full of snippets of my teenage years.
I write these stories not to glamorise being a shit teenager. I write them because I like sharing my stories and I think we should be able to talk about this stuff openly.
Trying Molly For The First Time
I had just turned 18 and could finally get into clubs legally. The first time I went to a legal nightclub and not an illegal industrial setup I wasn’t that impressed. I didn’t realise I would pay up to $10 for a drink. Spending $100 a night just wasn’t on the cards for me on a measly wage.
Prior to “being 18”, I was an out of control teen drinking $12 goon bags and causing all sorts of ruckus. I’ve woken up in bushes, public toilets and once with a bin on my head after being sick half the night. I had reached a point where alcohol was bringing out the worst in me.
18 years old felt like a fresh start, I don’t have to hide anymore after spending years drinking on the beach and under bridges. No more running from the cops. I can go to nightclubs and be all fancy. Pffft….right. I made a new friend at 18, she couldn’t believe that despite trying many things I had not had ecstasy.
I knew a lot of people in my hometown. Knowing a lot of people and scoring drugs are two different things. In a town where trust is paramount during a drug deal, it was not easy finding this “molly” we were looking for.
We finally got our ecstasy. The result? I’m not going to lie, I had a fantastic night. I felt happy, but it was synthetic & gone by the morning. I wanted to feel like that all the time.
You see even after the first time your already in dangerous waters, wanting to be high again.
The Second Time I Tried Molly
This time we bought extra because it was harder to get our hands on the drug. I went to take the ecstasy and it fell out of my hand. We spent a good half an hour combing the grass trying to find it. It was gone. I had to take the extra one and just deal with the loss.
Not long after I went to take a drink and saw a tiny white chunk floating at the bottom of my water. The first tablet, it had dropped into my water bottle.
I should win an Olympic medal for such unplanned precision.
This night was different, I didn’t have a great time. I spent the next three days MIA curled up in a ball with my teeth gritted. My jaw was so painful by the end of it I could barely open my mouth. My mind was so numb I felt like reaching in and tearing my brains out of my skull.
Friends eventually came looking for me, by then the worst was over.
Was I even sold ecstasy that night? Who really knows.
I thought about Anna Wood while I lay there wide awake for hours on end. Anna died at 15 years old after taking ecstasy. Anna practically drowned herself in water after taking the drug and was suffering exhaustion.
I had read the book and I still tried the drug. Twice.
I could have died that night, not just because I accidentally spiked my own water bottle.
Nobody truly knows what is in an ecstasy tablet being sold to you on the street or at a music festival.
This is why people need access to pill testing.
I can’t tell you where we got the ecstasy AKA “Molly”. From a guy who knew a guy. It could have been made with anything really. Just because your dealer trusted you, doesn’t mean you could trust them.
There was a point where I knew, I would just be another statistic, like Anna Wood.
My children will become teens before I know it. I will be raw and honest with them about the sacrifices I have made because of my unhealthy decisions. They won’t be threatened, they won’t receive ultimatums “If they are caught doing drugs” because the reality is – they will probably try them.
We can reduce the risk with our kids and young adults if we talk openly about drugs. Hopefully, with some brutal honesty, those thoughts will stick with them if they are ever in trouble.
This story isn’t about portraying ecstasy as a “killer drug”. I want kid’s to know if they become unwell or run into trouble they have somewhere to turn without being persecuted. I want people to have access to pill testing without fearing persecution.
My stories are about the time period of a young teenager who gambled with the risk of addiction through the use of drugs, alchohol and destructive behaviour.
My family have been incredibly supportive of breaking the habitual cycle of self-destruction. Tell your kids, no matter what – they can call you without being afraid. The consequence of death or long term brain injury is far worse than a parental lecture.
I am not a “drug Expert”. I do know, no matter how safe or harmless a person claims a drug is – you cannot put complete faith in what you are buying on the street.