I was 17 and doing 200 'nangs' a night, this is what made me stop

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It's not 'wrong' or 'dirty' to talk about the negative affects.

I was 17 years old, living in Goulburn and crumbling under the stress of my HSC exams during the pandemic, when "nangs" entered my life.

With family issues brewing in the background, I was fighting off a deep, aching loneliness and craved an escape.

Something to quiet the noise in my head and step outside of my own brain for just a moment.

Packaged under the innocent guise of a whipped cream charger, I saw it as a cheap, harmless and fleeting high.

I never expected it would spiral into a 200-bulb-a-night obsession and permanently alter my body's chemistry over the next three years.

If you want to know what nangs feel like, listen to the Tame Impala song by the same name.

A pulsating, ethereal sound takes over your brain, pulling you into a spacey escape and for a minute or two, the world completely falls away.

But the high is so brief that the moment your feelings and thoughts return, you immediately want another one.

I was at an older mate's place when he brought out a 10-pack of these small metal bulbs. He said it was the same gas the dentist uses to knock you out. I didn't even Google the risks.

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