Being roofied is serious.
It was Friday, October 9th. My best friends and I were out celebrating another friend’s birthday. I knew the majority of people at the party (most were friends or at least acquaintances) and I felt safe and comfortable. But after just two drinks, I began to lose the ability to move. Ten minutes later, my motor skills followed. Although I was coherent and understood what was happening around me, my attempts to speak came out as aggressive gibberish.
I was scared. I tried to alert my friends and explain what was happening, but they simply seemed to think I had too much to drink. I sat next to my friends, terrified and angry, as they debated who would have to take me home and whose night I would ruin.
“Something isn’t right,” I tried to scream. “I’m not too drunk! Something is wrong!” But my friends ignored me and appointed my roommate as my designated babysitter for the rest of the night. She ended up tucking me into bed and I wasn’t harmed in any way. In fact, I didn’t realize what had happened until the next morning: I had been roofied.
I am hardly the only one who has experienced this. Similar incidents happen all too often: In 2009, over fifteen thousand men and women were hospitalized after having been intentionally drugged. Unfortunately, ending the night in the emergency room is hardly the worst outcome in this scenario: More than fifty percent of women who have been assaulted have reported being under the influence of drugs or alcohol when the assault took place.
Clearly, my experience could have been worse. But what I went through still took a toll on me. I felt targeted and grew increasingly angry in the days following the incident. There seemed to be little question as to why someone had drugged my drink, and their intentions enraged me. Even though they didn’t intentionally ignore me, I was mad at my friends for not trying harder to listen to me when it felt like my world was falling apart. I was also furious that someone could purchase and distribute such a horrific drug and that people profit from selling them.
Despite feeling so upset, I never wanted pity. I just felt a drive to make sure other young women are educated about this and feel empowered to help others should they find themselves in a similar situation. So, in that vein, here is what I have learned from this experience.
Being roofied is serious, and should be treated as such.
While I was upset that my friends didn’t seem to take me seriously, in their defense nothing like this had ever happened to any of us before. I understand why they misinterpreted my experience as drunkenness, but hope that other young adults recognize that if their friend is clearly trying to tell them something is wrong, they should listen or even take their friend to the hospital rather than make them feel guilty or write them off. I was made to feel like what I went through was my fault and that I had ruined others’ fun, and it took me weeks to fully process what had happened and understand that this was hardly the case.
What’s more, when I told people about being roofied after the fact, I was told that “these things happen” or that I was “lucky” nothing worse happened. Perhaps these were attempts to make me feel better, but I think a better approach would have been to acknowledge my experience and ask how I was doing.
This isn’t the victim’s fault.
At first, I berated myself for being roofied. Although I have no idea who put the drug in my drink, I kept thinking that I was brought up to know better than to accept a drink from a stranger or to put my drink down unattended and wondered if I accidentally had at some point. Learning that this is a widespread act that happens to many people (likely no matter what precautions they take) was disturbing, but drove home a broader point: We need to stop focusing on predominately holding victims responsible for crimes committed against them. Until this cultural shift happens, though, it’s crucial that friends are aware of this problem and look out for each other. For example, my friends and I now have a code word we agreed we’ll use when we need immediate help and care.
Ultimately, I’ve tried to find the silver lining of this experience. Personally, I’m glad that the person who targeted me “wasted” their drug rather than use it to assault or otherwise harm someone else. I also generally feel more educated about this topic and am confident I can now help others in the same situation should they need it. I only hope that I can now pass on these takeaways and do my part to prevent others from ever having to go through this.
