I had just had my 19th birthday when my roommate was having an argument with her soon to be ex-boyfriend. Hearing the commotion, I went to her locked door and knocked. There was a smash and I heard him jump out the window, when I entered the room, there she lay on the ground. Blood everywhere, she was stabbed multiple times and her neck was slit half way. I tried to stop the bleeding, but I knew it was pointless.
Covered in her blood, my life was altered. I went from being an extremely extroverted person, to one who broke down multiple times in a day, frustrated, angry, fractured. I finally sought proper medical treatment through a therapist. Actually I saw about ten therapists — they were all crap and I could see their questions coming from a mile away.
I decided that I should go back to school and take an easy course load, so I could be around my peers. It took a few weeks for me to realize how cynical I had become. I had anxiety around large groups of people and I often put myself in the middle of asshole guys trying to get laid at the University Bar.
I told my friend what I was going through, he introduced me to my new friend that year, Molly. MDMA drastically shifted my life. I was able to relax, breathe, enjoy, love and feel passion when I went out. The first time I tried it, I left the party and went for a walk by myself and wept. I got rid of the demon that poisoned my thoughts.
Violence begets violence. Holding my murdered friend corrupted my brain to the point where I pictured myself committing horrific and violent thoughts against those I love. I shall not repeat.
Hate cannot drive out hate, only love can do that. This is why I advocate for the use of MDMA to treat PTSD. The love drug helped me, I know it would help others.