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Anyway, in that article, I regaled you all with a tale of the time I got so high, I thought I'd died and gone to hell and, even worse, my cats were determined to keep me there. I blamed the fake weed mostly, and just casually mention as if it's not the fifth or sixth craziest single thing I've ever told a person that I also took 40 Robitussin pills. That was a modest estimate. Over the course of that day, I probably took 120 pills, minimum. The gas station weed didn't help, but it's pretty clear to me now that I was fucking around in a way that I really should not have been.

And it happened a lot. I'd just be sitting there watching television and suddenly, as if a switch had been flipped, I'd be overcome with a sense of outright doom. Not terror, fright, panic, or anything like that. Near the end of my run with cough syrup, I would routinely feel doomed. When was the last time you felt doom? It's not fun.

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One incident that stands out in particular is when, after a solid day of taking the same drugs in that exact same super dangerous way, I was watching an episode of Parks and Recreation. One of the storylines involved a Native American curse that fell upon a harvest festival the town was throwing. I was so high when I watched this episode that, and I promise you this is not a lie, I was sure that curse was going to stay with me if they didn't get it resolved during that episode.

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Just say Knope.

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That kind of stuff sounds hilarious to the person reading about it, and even to me in retrospect. Television curses? Cats dooming you to hell? That's comedy that writes itself.

Here's the thing, though: Not everyone can handle being that high. And let me assure you, if you suddenly view your cats and the people on television as participants in a battle for your soul, you are exactly that high. I have enough experience with drugs and the mental wherewithal that, eventually, I realize I'm just high and need to relax. It's a dangerous head space to play around in, though. Replace me with someone who's already prone to violence or mental breaks in that situation and ask yourself how well, for example, the cats would fare in that first story. Put enough drugs in a crazy person, and they will act on the plans I believed my adorable little kitties had hatched on me that night. If you're ever wondering how people wig out on drugs and start biting faces or eating roommates, there you go. Fortunately, I'm enough notches above full-on mentally ill that I knew not to kill my cats. Not everyone gets off that easy.

I told you it wasn't funny.

Adam hosts a podcast called Unpopular Opinion that you should check out right here. You should also be his friend on Twitter, Facebook and Tumblr.