Couldn’t have said it better. I have always been a somewhat light toker, have gotten pretty spun on a good handful of occasions. But it was always someone else’s. Sometimes I’d take home a loaded pipe or a lil bag of their leftovers. I’ve had plenty of other worldly cums from sex and/or endless compulsive fapping. But I recently made a connection who can get from a guy, and he got a G for me. I was only gonna smoke a bowl or two after work. I got home from work at about 3 am, spun my first bowl, and immediately ripped my clothes off. Lubed up my arsehole which I can’t even force myself to like when I’m sober, slid in my large butt plug, put on my man thong, stockings and cock ring. Fired up some porn on my 65″ tv and was immediately immersed myself into an endless trance of masturbating. I packed another bowl, and then a few hours later another one, I got so high and porn was the only thing I wanted. I literally couldn’t stop, I was consumed in lustful pleasure and couldn’t stop. I didn’t even want anyone else to hook up with, or even give me head. After about 8-10 hours of edging and having a couple small/held back mini cums where I stopped to let out only a tiny splurt if splooge, I became dehydrated and malnourished. Didn’t realize or care enough to even pause for a snack or water. Started at 3am, notice at 4pm I hadn’t even touched the Gatorade I had. I continued to meticulously wank my soft and floppy while the porn got dirtier and filthier. Even with a 30-40% chub, my brain was glueing my eyes to the TV. I would pick full length videos of over an hour long, only taking my zombie gaze from the screen to pack another bowl. All of my lighters ran out and my almost empty can of butane couldn’t fuel my dab torch. I found some old hemp wick, lit it from my oven, and was spinning naked in bed. I knew in my head the towel I was using to dry my hands from lube wasn’t enough and the pipe was slippery. I had already dropped it on my bed a couple of times but had been sitting up. However, it only took one time laying back naked with slick hands, geeked up our of your face, to drop the burning glass on your bare cock and balls. Did that stop me? No. Did I get up to eat or drink? No. I even knew it would help me to get hard, but I couldn’t even do that. I continued for OVER 24 HOURS, until 8am the following day. I had gotten this genious, lovely, sick and depraved idea to just piss all over myself in bed. Watching piss porn twacked out on meff is wild, and was 10000x more erotic than pissing in the toilet. Or even pissing on myself in the shower. I had also started taking heavy sniffs of poppers before pissing on myself, it was so euphoric to let out my own stream and feel it warmly splash freely. At first it was on the floor I did it. Then it was on the bed with multiple towels and only some at a time. And I was only going to continue for another hour or so. Then I was emptying my bladder carelessly, gooned out satisfied wallowing in my own filth. I wanted to enjoy and do other things, but my brain and cock wouldn’t allow me to pull from this unholy trap. Palms of hands shriveled like raisins. Weird visual disturbances and color changes in the corners of my eyes that are intermittently twitching. Still chewing the same piece of gum from 18 hours ago. Guy who got me first bag says he can get from a different plug with better stuff, he’s on his way and I just gotta drop him cash. As I’m sitting in his car outside and the sun is coming up, having realizing the unfathomable amount of time I’d spent and damage done to my brain and body, I had the urge to say no. I got back inside, popped a Seroquel and took a dab, had a shot of liquor, and fell asleep with my dick in my hands to bsdm gangbang complitation porn. I smoked nearly the entire bag over this time, until I dropped the pipe on the ground and it shattered. Waaay more in one sesh than I ever have, simply because I had it. I knew this shit was a montherfucker but I really thought I could handle it. I still have a fat chonker of a shard left, no matter what drug I do I always save the biggest or nicest piece for last. God have mercy on my soul when I fire that shit up again, I want to flush it but I can’t. Despite being absolutely disgusted at myself, mortified of what I had become, and knowing my susceptibility to drug abuse, sexual behaviour, and combined with my mental health disorder (BP1), that this is a bad bad road. Despite knowing of the slew of harmful chemicals that this toxic garbage is made and cut in a hotel bathroom tub by a random shady fuck, in that state I’m held firmly in satans diabolical hands handing over pieces of my soul as well as probably countless brain cells and sleep I’ll never get back. I’m physically healthy, and finally doing well in my life, sable mood and finances as a functioning work professional, and am just starting to date again after a rough breakup. I cannot let this shit turn me into a tweaker, that would be so not cool. Has self control gotten easier over time for anyone on this shit? Probably not, I’m probably just trying to justify dancing with the devil because it feels so fucking good. My dick doesn’t feel good today though, and now I’ve got fuckin burns from the hot peezie I dropped on it. This is just to show you the fire we be playing with, cheers.