Matthew Salacuse

It's the same scene at parties everywhere, or when any group of friends is just hanging out on a random Saturday night in someone's basement: If someone cracks a beer or lights a cigarette, you probably treat it like it's no big deal. If you don't want to drink, you can always just say you're driving or can't get busted by your parents for beer breath. And maybe you're not into smoking cigarettes, but not doing it doesn't make you feel lame — no one really thinks twice if you don't want one. But if someone busts out a joint or a bowl, you may find yourself torn: On the one hand, pot seems harmless enough — you've never heard of anyoneof a pot overdose, and it's supposed to be all natural, right? Plus, it seems like something different to do that would make a boring weekend way more interesting. On the other hand, you may have that nagging feeling: Could you get arrested if anyone found out? Could your pot be laced with something that could kill you? Will it make you feel out of control, or make you sick? Will you get paranoid and freak out? But even those scary scenarios almost seem…— they make you feel like you'd look brave for trying something new, like you're more experienced and cooler.

The thing is, pot does affect your body in harmful ways. It drains your memory power and makes you move slower (dangerous when you're driving or in a car with someone who's high). It could make you gain weight and get acne. And the scary reality is that pot is stronger than ever, and is often linked to psychosis, meaning it could make you hallucinate, and in some people, set off symptoms of schizophrenia. Still, more girls are smoking pot: The number of high school girls using marijuana rose 29 percent from 2008 to 2009 after years of dropping. And when the pressure to smoke pot seems high and the risks of doing it seem low, it can be easy to convince yourself that you can handle it. But it's not that simple. Read on for stories from real girls who thought their use was no biggie — until they got seriously burned.

Matthew Salacuse

"Freshman year of high school, I started hanging out with this senior Dave*. He was a cute soccer player, and I felt cool to have a senior looking at me. He was always saying nice things to me, and I totally fell for him. After about seven months of dating, we went to a party and I walked outside and saw him smoking pot. I was shocked: I thought he didn't want to do drugs because he was such a big athlete. When I asked him about it, he said he only smoked 'once in a blue moon.' But then he asked, 'Would you do it with me?' I wasn't the kind of girl who did drugs, but I liked the idea of doing something new with him, and I was so into him that I didn't want to say no. So I agreed. After that, we started smoking together occasionally. At first, I didn't like it or see the need for it — it's not like we were uncomfortable around each other without it. But he'd joke more when he was high, and we'd spend hours on his roof talking. It made me feel like we were in our own world, and soon I was the one asking him to get high with me, so we could be in that world together.

But after about a year and half, Dave started changing out of nowhere. He wouldn't return my calls, and I didn't know what I'd done to push him away. I was devastated — I felt like my life had no meaning without him. So when a friend offered me a joint to help me numb the pain, I took it — it was the only thing that helped me not feel like crying. I thought it made me seem happier too, and that if Dave could see how much fun I was, he would want me back.

I kept smoking all the time — to the point that I failed my classes and had to switch schools. But I was too spaced out to think about the consequences of failing, and I felt like life and school had no point since Dave wasn't a part of either anymore.

On my 18th birthday, everyone was partying at someone's house, and I decided to 'celebrate' by taking a puff from pretty much everyone's drugs. The last thing I remember is passing out on the porch. When I awoke, I was in a hospital bed hooked up to an IV: Being so high, I'd been oblivious to how much I was drinking too. The doctors told me I could have died! I knew right then I had to stop living this life where the only thing getting me through was pot.

Quitting was harder than I thought it would be. I started taking school more seriously and I even joined the track team and stopped smoking during school hours. But I still smoked at parties and at home alone. I would get high just so I could go to sleep and stop thinking about how much I still missed Dave. Then one day in my senior year, a social worker at school called me into his office. 'I'm not here to make you stop using,' he said. 'I'm here to make you realize there are other things that can make you happy.' And that's when it really hit me: Smoking pot was my way of distracting myself from the breakup — but it wasn't a way of dealing with it. I needed to stop smoking and get on with my life. So I cut out pot completely, and within just a few weeks, my grades started improving and I felt more together.

Feeling better made me want to stick to not smoking. I threw myself into my schoolwork and anything that would distract me from wanting to smoke. And my senior year, I graduated with honors and got into college. But what makes me feel more confident than what I was able to accomplish is how I feel: What I thought happy felt like when I was high doesn't compare to how good I feel today without drugs. I'd thought pot was helping me get by — but it was just holding me back."

—jess, 19

* Name has been changed

Diego Cervo/ iStock

"My mom had a tough time making ends meet after my parents divorced when I was 14. She was always picking big fights with me over little things because she was so stressed. One weekend, I went to my friend's house to escape my mom's mood, and some kids were smoking pot. I thought it was harmless, so I took a puff. And within minutes, I felt a wave of relief; I smiled for the first time in months. So I couldn't wait to smoke again the next day. I kept smoking over the next few months, until I was doing it every day for hours.

Eventually my mom got a job and I was old enough to get one too. We weren't as stressed and we got along better, so I didn't smoke for seven months — it was easy to give it up when my life was going well. But then my mom was laid off and I broke up with my boyfriend. I felt so anxious that I started smoking again. Soon, I couldn't sleep without smoking. My grades slipped, but stressing about it made me want to smoke more.

But a few months later, something weird happened. No matter how much I smoked, the weed didn't give me a calm feeling. I'd hit a wall: There just wasn't a reason to smoke. So that night, I vowed to quit — and did.

Since I quit, I feel less stressed. The problem with smoking to forget your troubles is that you forget everything else too. I'm still tempted to smoke when I'm upset, but I handle it by pulling out a list of goals I wrote down to remind myself how much more I want from my life."

—Jessica, 18

Jabejon/ iStock

"The first time I tried pot in eighth grade, I was at a party where everyone was a bit older. I felt out of place, so when someone offered me a hit, I said yes. Instantly, I was a more comfortable version of myself. I started smoking more and more, and by high school graduation, I was doing it at least four times a week. But the more I smoked, the less I cared about school or sports or going to college. All I cared about was smoking with friends. Last August, I ran into a guy I knew who asked if I wanted to make money selling pot. It seemed like easy cash, so I paid him $135 for 12 plastic baggies of weed, put them in an eyeglass case in my purse, and forgot all about it.

A few days later, I went shopping. And on the ride home, I realized I'd left my purse — with the pot! — on the checkout counter. I went back into the store, and when I asked a greeter if he'd found it, he told me to wait. After about 20 minutes, a detective with a gun on his hip came toward me; I was terrified. He took me to the police station, where I told the truth about where I'd gotten the weed. A few hours later I was released — but two months later, I went before a judge, who sentenced me to 30 days in county jail for 'felony possession' and 'intent to deliver.' I was hysterical and ashamed — the court was full of people who knew me.

The first few days in my cell, all I did was cry. But I had no one to blame but myself. So I thought hard about how to change, and after 24 days in jail, I was released for good behavior. Now I don't hang out with smokers, and I'm going to college. It killed me to read my sister's letter in jail about how much she missed me. And I'm just now fixing things with my parents. I never realized how many people could suffer, just so I could have a good time."

—Cindy, 19

Buzzkill

Weed isn't just more popular — it's also more dangerous than ever. Here's why:

It's addictive. Teens are three times more likely to get addicted to pot than adults — even if you're not a regular hard-core smoker.

It messes up your mind. Daily use of marijuana for girls makes you five times more likely to be diagnosed with depression or anxiety.

It makes you sick. Just one joint has as many cancer-causing chemicals as five cigarettes.

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