So some friends of mine had been talking about tripping on shrooms for
a good three years now. Some time ago I started researching them, and
basically learned all I could which not only made me confident that I
could survive them (Even through a bad trip) but made me excited to try!
This
past weekend was my opportunity. The same two friends, Jones and Cait,
and I were able to trip at Jones's house. Only Cait had done it once
before, but I didn't feel as though I needed a guide. I'd done my
research (i was the ONLY one who had done research) and I trusted
myself enough to allow this drug to take me over.
We each had
our own 1/8th and ate it in pbj sandwhiches. From the moment I ingested
them I felt slightly different, perhaps it was the giddyness of it
actually happening. We popped in the Pagemaster - which is a trippy
movie REGARDLESS, and sat around waiting for the trip. That was at 4pm.
By 430 we lost track of the movie and began exploring the house. Here's
the thing: this was the weekend after Valentines Day, and Jones had
decorated her house up for it, including 99 Red Balloons (like the
song) littered all over the living room floor. Needless to say, that
occupied our attention for a longgg time. By 5pm we were all climbing,
and it felt generally like a really good cannibis high. Very euphoric,
playful, you know how it goes.
I was approaching this experience
from a scientific perspective, because I had read up on what was
happening inside my body, and inside my mind, and through the
experience I did a diligent job of witnessing everything I'd read
about. I first noticed peculiar behavior in Jones. She had been laying
on the couch with a heating pad for the duration so far, and just kept
giggling about how we "ate peanut butter sandwhiches, and now we're
fucked up". It was funny to me at the time, but I really think she
couldn't understand the cause and effect. It was like she'd forgotten
about the shrooms.
I'd say she was the first to peak, but I
only notice this in retrospect, because having never witnessed a trip
before, I didn't know how far apart individual peaks can vary. She
started questioning "What is Normal?" and continuously asked us if what
she was doing was normal. For the most part it was, but then she
started to repeat herself, she kept saying she wanted to throw things
in the garbage and that she needed to eat; she was concerned she hadn't
eaten enough, even though she had given me a detailed account earlier
of her breakfast. So I spent some time observing her, and kind of
drawing up my own conclusions of what the drug was doing to her.
Eventually
I got bored with that and wandered around the house with Cait. The only
way I can describe what I was feeling at that point (it was probably 6
o'clock now, roughly 2 hours into the trip) was satisfying my needs in
the simplest of ways. For instance, if I was thirsty, I wasn't
concentrating on gulping down a whole bottle, but rather just a sip,
and then I would forget about it. Same thing with hunger. I began to
see slight visuals, nothing chaotic at that point, and began to wonder
how ALL of my senses would react to the drug. I began looking at things
deemed "trippy" (like the couch in the living room, that shit was
aLIVE), and then I even went so far as to stand over a vase of roses
for a good ten minutes, just because I wanted a treat for my sense of
smell.
"Would it be cliche if I said... I liked the smell of a rose?"
I
could be overheard saying that as I stood, obsessed with the roses.
Shortly after that, Jones began peaking and experiencing her own Bad
trip. Cait and I had been coloring in the computer room, not really
focusing on "the trip", but rather the activities we could do all the
while. I went to check on Jones, who had proclaimed herself tired and
in need of a nap. She was on the couch, and I could tell she'd been
crying. Because I'd read up on Bad Trips, i just sat near her and tried
every subtle way I could think of to make her feel better. The fact of
the matter is that she wanted the trip to stop, and that, if I am
correct, is probably the #1 cause of a bad trip. As soon as you want it
to stop, but realize it's not going to, you instantly don't like it
anymore.
Cait & I, though we had not peaked yet, both went
to work calming Jones down by telling her that the trip was nearly over
(this was at 730, only about 4 hours into it) and that since we were
"down", she would be too, soon.
Because we spent so much time
convincing her we weren't tripping anymore, I actally became convinced
the trip was over, and when Jones was finished peaking and could relax,
we all began talking about the trip in past tense.
To make Jones
feel slightly more at ease, we offered the idea of smoking weed,
because it was a familiar act and would hopefully act to calm her
churning stomach.
Throughout this, however, my visuals began
increasing, and I began seeing trails - which were the coolest fucking
thing I'd ever seen. Incidentally, as Cait was decribing her own
experience to Jones, I announced that I didn't think I was down.
Moreover, I came to the realization that I hadn't even peaked yet, and
that i was in the process of climbing at that very moment.
Suddenly,
as if a switch had been turned on, things became very clear and lucid
to me. Perhaps it was the weed, but I honestly don't think so. The weed
was useful though. Because I was climbing, and visuals were EVERYwhere,
I not only could experience them, but could view them from the
perspective of weed - aka, they were far-fucking-out. I began to ask if
the girls really were down, because I just couldn't believe that they
were done and here I was tripping balls.
I specifically recall
myself saying during this time (probably around 8-830) that "I have
never known what I was talking about more". And I still stand by that.
Whatever we were talking about, I could lead the conversation in dozens
of directions-something that is usually not done under the influence of
OTHER drugs or substances which make you LOSE your train of thought. I
never once forgot what I wanted to say, and moreover I could execute my
point flawlessly, and I never had to THINK about what I wanted to say,
because I just said it.
It was at that point where I think I
started to peak. And if it's impossible I'll be the first to admit it,
but I do believe I peaked for well over an hour. I began analyzing the
drug with ferver, bringing up behavioral patterns that I'd noticed, the
repetition of certain things like a proclamation of turning on the TV,
but never doing it. Or contemplating hunger, but never eating. At this
point I think I started to freak my friends out, not only because I
began to repeat MYself (in what I believe are called Cyclical Thoughts)
but they were also completely down by this point, so when I wasn't
freaking them out, they were basically just bored.
This didn't
lend very much to MY trip, because they were kind of just looking to
chill out and be normal, where I was just getting started. I had all
these revelations about myself, and decided that Shrooms wasn't a
substance that ADDED to you, like Alcohol. Alcohol can turn you into a
different person, but Shrooms, I decided, was a drug that took you to
the confines of your own sense of self. It takes you as High as YOU can
go, or as Low as YOU can go. It stretches the limits of your emotions,
and, for me anyway, helps you to understand yourSELF better. It was a
deeply personal experience, one which I was unsucessfull explaining to
my friends. After a while, I had to excuse myself from their company
and go think my thoughts alone, where I could uninteruptedly interpret
the drug.
Shortly after that, I was beckoned by my friends with
some Tea, and even though I was still peaking, I joined them. It was
around this point where I reached the Peak of the Peak.
Reality
seemed very distant to me, and I could not, for the first time in my
life, recognize if what I was experiencing was real or not. I'm not
ashamed to say I shed some tear, though not because I was having a bad
trip, or because I didn't like what was feeling, but just because I was
confused as to why I would be so incapable of determining what was
"Real". Probably around 10 now, I felt a huge swell of stimulation all
over my body. My eyes watered, I sweat slightly, and my nerves felt as
though they were about to explode. And all at once--my trip was over.
It
was a highly enlightening experience, and I even recall telling my
friends that I thought I understood what was meant when someone
mentioned "the path to enlightenment". The trip greatly introduced me
to other parts of myself I had considered dormant or lost. In general,
I think the trick to surviving this drug is having a very in depth
sense of self, and being comfortable with you are. From what I
witnessed, bad trips are spurred by unfamiliar behavior, and if your
own behavior begins to scare you, you're going to want the trip to end.
I think you just have to ride it out, be it good or bad. I'm honestly
considering purposefully sending myself into a bad trip, just so I can
be more aware of the science and biology belonging to this drug. It was
a fantastic experience, and one which I am looking forward to doing
again.
I'd apologize for the length of this trip report, as I
see some people on here are very quick to ignore the lengthier memoirs,
but as someone who came here SEARCHING for detailed descriptions, I
can't help but provide one myself for anyone else looking for a
detailed description. In the end, it could make a difference between a
good and bad trip.
