10 September 2024 - 0 Comments
Hi team! It's Gaby from Muzic.NZ here...
I would like to share my story of an intimidating experience at a local gig on Wyndham Street in Auckland, on Friday the 16th of August 2024.
A traumatic occurrence has sparked my willingness to write this article to share with others the dangers of not paying attention to your drinks.
For privacy and commercial reasons, I will not be mentioning the artist that played this evening, or the bar. My intention here is to alert the community of the ramifications I’ve faced after this incident, and to warn everyone to be careful out there.
So... I’ve jumped at the opportunity recently to attend more gigs, cave my loneliness and make new friends. Off I go, dressed up and ready to shout everyone drinks and chat everyone's head off; in hope of forming new bonds, feeling some good vibes, and establishing some human connection. For the majority of the night, this is what I felt.
After some time, my vision started to blur. It's only around 9:30-10pm and I’m chatting away, cracking jokes and talking about my time with music and my current career path. Oversharing, overstimulated, and eager to just unwind after a long working week. As my vision blacks out, I start feel really drunk. I know my limit, and I had definitely not drunk nearly enough to make me feel this bad. So, I keep going, play it cool and try to ignore the situation and side effects. Dumb move! Although to be fair... this has never happened to me before. I genuinely had no idea what was going on. Everyone around me is happy, and the social cues are most likely being a little misread. The culprit is still in question, but I had a fair idea of who was trying to take me home that night. Big mistake buddy...
After I started feeling sick, I managed to escape the venue... from there I completely lose my memory. I have no idea how I left the bar, who I talked to, what I did outside and with whom, and what on earth happened to me after 10pm. I wake up outside, at a bus stop on god knows what street, staring at my projectile vomit next to me (delicious). A group of about 3-4 younger folks find me there alone, feel sorry for me, and hand me a pump bottle full of water. I stumble around, take the water, and say thank you. The group asked me how I’m getting home, and I said, “oh I’m just walking”. They say, “no”. “We’ll get you an uber”. So, I politely accept as I’m exhausted, and allow them to order me an uber back to my place so I can just happily pass out and hide under my blankets forever.
I wake up in the morning, feeling the pains of having forgotten everything and the worry of blacking out. I have a myriad of thoughts; “what the hell?”, “how did I get out of the bar?”, “who was the random guy I was talking to?”, “OMG, did I vomit in front of everyone!?", "Did someone try take advantage of me!?". The shock was incredible. I felt so ashamed, and naturally blamed myself for not being responsible enough. The truth is no-one should have this happen to them. No-one, under any circumstances, should feel unsafe to go and watch live music, ever. No-one should ever blame themselves for the pathetic attempt of a criminal to hijack your sanity, spike your drink, and ruin your sense of self. It’s simply not okay.
If this has ever happened to you, your frustration, anxiety, suspicion and anger is completely valid. It’s disgusting. The horror stories I heard afterwards were beyond frightening, and I thought only one thing after this… “that could have been me.” For at least two weeks after this night, I felt anxiety beyond a normal amount for me. Social panic above normal, discomfort, shame, humiliation and another disheartening feeling… that no one cared. Although, the truth in the end was far from it - after Lisa Jones (MNZ's Manager) posted an alert to the community about this incident, I received a flood of care. Not to mention, I have also been supported by the bar manager, venue owner and the artist themselves. I feel immense gratitude that my assumption of people was challenged by genuine care and consideration for what I faced. My bravery to share my story surpassed my fear of judgement. My willingness to protect my community, my friends and my future safety surpasses the shame and guilt that came afterwards.
I am grateful for the love I received after having my drink spiked. I know now that there are some vile monsters among us… however … the music community is not that. That's not who we are, and this will never be accepted as normal behaviour. We have a strong foundation of comradery and support in our community, and those who protect it have a voice. Many of us have a strong understanding of what can happen when drugged or intoxicated. We are here for each other. This remains another reason why Muzic.NZ is still the best team I’ve ever joined. So, thanks, team! For giving a shit. For caring. And for being on my side with my frustration.
Watch your drinks! Watch your mates! And if you suspect your body or beverage at a bar or gig has been tampered with… please report it. Not only to your friends and the bar staff, but to the police. Do not hesitate. Don’t keep it on a downlow. This has been one of the most distressing and agonising feelings I’ve faced in years… Do not stay in the shadows with things like this! People do care.
Read more about the precautionary advice from the experts here, and how to report it if you need assistance: Community Alcohol and Drug Services (Drink Spiking).
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