If your parents care for you they will want to know your condition. I would recommend you tell them and find some help because believe me you can not do this on your own. I had an experience after daily use where i decided to do a little more than I should have and started to hallucinate and has messed with me since so i'm in the same boat as you. I really hope for the best of you man.
Should I tell my parents?
I smoked weed about 3 weeks ago and I thought it was just after affects of the weed or also know as a "ghost high." I found out that this was derealization yesterday and this really sucks because I am only 14 years old. Should I tell my parents I smoked weed and try to find help?
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I say yes, what you disclose, your call. This can be experienced for many different reasons. Either way, yes, sharing is a weight of your mind. Worst case, pissed of for a few weeks, they will want the best for you regardless, we all make mistakes, even they do.
Although not great advice, they won't know HOW you got this unless you tell them, I have many friends on this site that had no drug trip, so you are safe there, when you get a bit older though, you stop lying, start owning things and come clean, it sets you free. Kinda give you both angles, a soft way, just explain how you feel, a slightly harder way, how... either way tell them, best way to the best care
Although not great advice, they won't know HOW you got this unless you tell them, I have many friends on this site that had no drug trip, so you are safe there, when you get a bit older though, you stop lying, start owning things and come clean, it sets you free. Kinda give you both angles, a soft way, just explain how you feel, a slightly harder way, how... either way tell them, best way to the best care
If you feel like they will judge you, you don't need to tell them what it was. Just say it was a panic attack or something else. It's a white lie, but they do need to know what you're going through, this thing is impossible to survive solo.
I took atomoxetine for attention problems, got this, told mom I felt weird and that I'd stop taking it, then told her that the feeling is gone (it wasn't). Then I didn't say anything for over a year. All this time I struggled on my own with very demanding school assignments and worsening DPDR. I once remember cramming some 20 pages of anatomy in one go and when I was done I was high as a kite and stuttered constantly while talking. I tried very hard to cover it up and succeeded. Some other time I was in a supermarket looking at stuff and I suddenly found myself on the other side of the aisle. I couldn't remember how I'd gotten there. That was after another cram session. Again, I never said anything until this summer.
Sometime in June I didn't sleep well for a week and had a sudden exacerbation. I suddenly felt like I couldn't think at all (during a hypnagogic state) and I freaked out that I'm developing schizophrenia (•••My Biggest Fear Ever•••). I had an ugly panic attack. Waves of heat, cold, whole body burning sensations, racing heart, thought blocking and every symptom imaginable. It lasted for rather long - about one hour. Or maybe it just felt like it because of the intensity of the experience. For the next few days I was utterly messed up. Couldn't think straight, shaking with fear all the time, dreading every second because I felt I was going to develop schizophrenia. In hindsight, these were the after effects of the panic attack and only worsened my fear, in a positive feedback loop. I've had a few more (smaller) panic attacks. Once I was going through a very stressful (emotionally) event. Then as I was looking at the leaves of a tree outside my window, they seemed to form a large skull. And then another. And then another one. And then I thought I was legit crazy and couldn't suffer this anymore. It was maybe 3 AM, a night in July. I went outside my room and was met by mom, who had just woken up. I straight up told her something like: "I want to tell you that ever since I've taken that drug I haven't been feeling very well.". This was a good opener and I started to elaborate. She was understanding and didn't tell me that "I did it to myself" and such.
What I really dreaded was telling my father. I woke up the next morning to my parents arguing about who's fault it is (Spoiler: It is nobody's fault. It's really just bad luck. Like a person who dies due to the rare occurence of a hair dye allergy. They essentially did it to themselves by accepting the risk of a severe reaction for a non-necessary reward). At least they had resolved to book an appointment with a psychiatrist.
In short, I had dreaded telling my parents about this far more than I should have. The actual talk wasn't 10% as bad as I had imagined. So, unless they are totally weird, conservative and one can't reason with them at all, by all means go and tell them. I delayed my recovery process by a full year by not telling anyone.
Sometime in June I didn't sleep well for a week and had a sudden exacerbation. I suddenly felt like I couldn't think at all (during a hypnagogic state) and I freaked out that I'm developing schizophrenia (•••My Biggest Fear Ever•••). I had an ugly panic attack. Waves of heat, cold, whole body burning sensations, racing heart, thought blocking and every symptom imaginable. It lasted for rather long - about one hour. Or maybe it just felt like it because of the intensity of the experience. For the next few days I was utterly messed up. Couldn't think straight, shaking with fear all the time, dreading every second because I felt I was going to develop schizophrenia. In hindsight, these were the after effects of the panic attack and only worsened my fear, in a positive feedback loop. I've had a few more (smaller) panic attacks. Once I was going through a very stressful (emotionally) event. Then as I was looking at the leaves of a tree outside my window, they seemed to form a large skull. And then another. And then another one. And then I thought I was legit crazy and couldn't suffer this anymore. It was maybe 3 AM, a night in July. I went outside my room and was met by mom, who had just woken up. I straight up told her something like: "I want to tell you that ever since I've taken that drug I haven't been feeling very well.". This was a good opener and I started to elaborate. She was understanding and didn't tell me that "I did it to myself" and such.
What I really dreaded was telling my father. I woke up the next morning to my parents arguing about who's fault it is (Spoiler: It is nobody's fault. It's really just bad luck. Like a person who dies due to the rare occurence of a hair dye allergy. They essentially did it to themselves by accepting the risk of a severe reaction for a non-necessary reward). At least they had resolved to book an appointment with a psychiatrist.
In short, I had dreaded telling my parents about this far more than I should have. The actual talk wasn't 10% as bad as I had imagined. So, unless they are totally weird, conservative and one can't reason with them at all, by all means go and tell them. I delayed my recovery process by a full year by not telling anyone.
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