No Memory

Three days ago a friend and I were visiting my brother who is attending University. We went into the weekend with an open mind, searching for an intriguing mixture of R&R, adventure and a mild indulgence of many recreational drugs, namely Magic Mushrooms.

Friday morning we took our time getting up, enjoying a mug of coffee and a plate of eggs as the morning sun warmly lit the room. After breakfast the three of us cleaned the apartment and discussed our agenda for the day.

At 11:10am we each ingested one 2 1/2 inch fresh mushroom(psilocybin). Then, we blended around 3 to 4 grams of dried mushrooms, 3 cups of orange juice, and 4000mg of chewable vitamin C. We equally split the frothing brew and finished the drink in about 5 mins.

Before this day I had NOT experimented with any hallucinogens. So, as you can imagine, I was a little anxious to see what would happen.

The first signs of my trip happened only 15 min. later. The stucco on the ceiling started to move much like waves in the ocean. Then for the next 30 to 40 mins I was really happy, sporting a wide grin and a frequent laughter.

THEN, I woke up. I got up off the floor and took a look around the appartment. My brother and friend had left somewhere and the place was COMPLETELY TRASHED. I was immediately extremely pissed off at my brother, trashing his own damn appartment... no respect. It honestly looked like someone had been through the room with a bat, striking anything and everything. The coffee table was upturned, the chairs from the dinner table were strewn about, EVERY plant in the house(except one), there were about 7 plants, had been shredded, ripped and the soil was EVERYWHERE, rubbed in the carpet, on the couch, in both the bedrooms. The kitchen floor was littered with soil and broken glass. A large beer mug had been shattered and only the handle remained in one piece. The bookcase with my brothers large collection of books was lying face down on the floor, with the back pannel caved in(Also dirt all over it). The wine rack was lying on its side, empty of the six bottles it held that morning. The James Dean Poster on the wall was ripped down and layed twisted on the floor.

I looked down at myself and noticed I was wearing only one shoe, and that my pants were really wet. I passed it off as being water that the bastards had probably spilled on me. I looked at my watch and noticed it was 5pm. WHAT!!! 5pm, When I woke I automatically thought it was Saturday. That would mean I had been sleeping since we tripped out on Friday. Whooaaa.

Just then the phone rang. It was my brother mumbling something about coming home soon. "What the F**K did you do to the appartment" I asked him. "Man, I didn't do a thing." he responded. At this point I hung up on the bastard, "he's obviously in denial" I thought.

What the hell is that smell? I decided it was coming from myself so I once again looked down. I decided to change my pants, this water wasn't drying too quickly. AWWW Shit, That's not water. I had urinated without going to the bathroom. When? I have no clue.

My brother and friend walk through the door and this is when I realized the full extent of my trip. After a lengthy talk and a small mental/emotional breakdown on my part, the true story came out...

It turns out that when I thought I passed out (which I thought to be about 12 noon), I actually didn't, well not really. As the shroom trip elevated into it's second phase something inside me changed drastically. I had a fair bit of emotional bulk pent up in me that had just found a release valve.

The rest of my account comes from my brother and friends account of the trip as I have NO memory of it(I believe this might be a defense mechanism, or related to the shock of it all). It turns out that when I awoke it was actually 5pm on FRIDAY, not SATURDAY (my mind thought I was a day ahead. *WEIRD*)

All the damage and disorder in the appartment had actually been caused by myself. When they said this I first thought that I was just a damn Patsy, set-up to take the blame. There was hard evidence, however, that this was not the case. Somewhere along the trip the pent up energy surfaced and reared it's ugly head. I am not by nature a physical or violent person and to see the damage I did was quite a Shock.

My ego dissolved and my conscience left me. My brother and I had a trip that can be described in one word...Syncronicity... Our minds together were the driving force behind the mental aspects of the trip. I'm still not quite sure why, but my body became the physical medium of the trip. I tromped around the appartment tipping the plants over and knocking the bookshelf down. It didn't happen in a violent rage, but more of a destructive meandering. By the time it was done there were marks in the ceiling were a large decorative candle holder had been weilded, by myself, and used in an upward, thrashing motion while standing on the back of the knocked over bookshelf. The beer mug had dropped off the top of the fridge and came to rest in a thousand pieces on the floor. ALL the destruction had been caused by myself.

My brother swears it was the BEST TRIP OF HIS LIFE. He didn't care one bit about the damage(we cleaned up, vaccuumed the dirt and I left money to replace the plants. Surprisingly the damage was minimal). He is a psychology major and had an interesting belief in why it happened. It was convincing and a little reasuring the hear that what happen wasn't spurned on by a psychotic disorder of some type. He felt he was creating every moment in his trip when we where going through the appartment, myself destroying while he talked on about childhood happenings and the rivalry we have.

As can be imagined I was emotionally and mentally unstable after hearing that I, the passive, respectful person had singlehandedly turned my brothers first appartment into an absolute mess. I have apologized to him, would like to again, I'm Sorry.

I still haven't fully come to terms with my uncharacteristic behaviour and I'm quite convinced that Psychedelic Hallucinogens aren't for me.

My First Trip is one I'll never Forget and one Which I Carry Little Memory of.