A few weeks ago I had my second mushroom experience. The previous one, I had taken one gram of Paneaolus (Copelandia) Cyanescens, and had an absolutely wonderful, comfortable experience. I'm 21 years old and about 200lbs.
For my second trip I took two, maybe two and a half grams, thinking that since my one-gram experience was so smooth and delightful, two grams would be alright.
The trip began more or less where my last one picked up: intense closed-eye visuals, a feeling of ecstatic beauty and understanding, and a general transformation of my surroundings. Overall though the experience was much, much more intense than my previous one. The visuals got more and more intense until it became a frantic blur of kaleidoscopic patterns, writhing snake-like things (which I tried to repress, unsuccesfully) and deep, dark purples and reds. My room seemed very big, and my body felt like it belonged to someone else. At this point I decided to go outside to the garden and look at the stars, which had been the highpoint of my previous trip.
When I got to the garden I found I pretty much lost my motor control. In the words of Hunter S Thompson, I "behaved like the village drunkard in some early Irish novel". I swaggered and stumbled around and found I couldn't sit still for more than a few seconds without a rush of some weird energy compelling me to keep moving. I smoked a cigarette or two and nearly ruined one because I had unconsciously started chewing on it. I was breathing heavily and couldn't focus on one thought for more than a few seconds. Alarmed and confused, I decided to go back upstairs. I don't think I even remembered to look up to the stars while I was out there.
About two hours into it, as the peak set on, it all became way too much and I found myself almost completely unable to move, knocked out on my bed and gasping for air. The visions came in waves of the craziest imagery: cartoony screaming faces, grids of grotesque pornography, and many, many instances of my own face in various expressions. I felt very confused and unable to focus on anything except the craziness in my head. At this point I knew I had slipped into a Bad Trip, and I was lost.
Coming down was probably the worst part. I was still half-paralyzed on my bed, sweating profusely, and wanted more than anything to sleep; but that was simply impossible. One weird, depressing idea after the other rolled around in my head. I felt like a purposeless insect on a doomed planet, I felt incredibly stupid for fucking up this trip, and at one point I had suicidal thoughts for the first time in my life. All I saw in front of my eyes were ugly, crazy patterns of brown, purple, orange and black.
After two more hours that felt like an eternity, the visions faded and I started to get a grip again. I slept a couple hours and when I woke up I was incredibly relieved and happy to be 'back' again, but the whole week following that night I was still having the kind of depressing thoughts that hit me during the trip. It definitely cut me down to size for a while.
Let this be a lesson, kids. Don't just push up the dose and expect you'll be able to handle it. And for the love of God, have someone look out for you when you try something new, or a significantly higher dose of the same. With someone to hold me or talk to me I might not have slipped into this horrible mindfuck, and wasted 2 grams of perfectly good Pan. Cyans.