I rate this as a strong level four but I’ve read a lot more “normal” Level fives.
I rate this as a strong level four but I’ve read a lot more “normal” Level fives. Angry Teddy Bears, Telepathy, Galaxy Travel, Teleporting Dog, Threatening Tikki Dolls, Marching Swastikas, Ego Death and a lot more left me desperately confused and in search for meaning and security. I hope you stay and read the whole thing now...
This is a documentation of what is commonly known as a “bad trip” for lack of a better term. I believe that even the worse trips can be extremely useful and productive, so are they really bad? However, there is a stark difference between a “good trip” and a “bad trip” so the title shall fit until I find a better one. This trip took place on the 19th of January of 2002. Previous to this I had tripped plenty of times, not enough at all to say I was an expert but I was certainly far from a beginner. Every trip before had been completely devoid of negativity and I had usually radiated a joy that was so overwhelmingly positive it is not really possible to describe. Although I knew very well that you could learn a lot from trips, I mostly viewed them light mindedly and flippantly. The experiences had always been so pleasant I basically believed a bad trip would never really happen, a classic case of an invincibility complex. Even so, I was smart enough to know that a trip made you totally unable to interact with the “real world” (parents, jobs, etc.) for quite sometime, so I had abstained from taking a large dose. However, I had constantly referred to a day in which I would take a biblical dose, a time in which I had a very long period of time that I wouldn’t have to interact with the “real world”. Basically all thought of an overdose was alien to me, it didn’t really occur that it could happen to me…after all I had taken Shrooms and “lost control” before and been fine, but I failed to recognize that their was a whole other level of loss of control I had not delved into.
Anyways, the opportunity to have a time and a place in which I could ingest a biblical amount and have that (what was to be) “glorious trip” presented itself.
I had just returned from a trip to beautiful Alaska where I spent much time with my father talking about my family’s tumultuous history. The fact that my family was broken, emotionally and physically was on my mind, and it would affect the trip. So, I returned home just in time for my brother’s 21st birthday and as a gift I gave him a gram of azurescens mushrooms for free. For those who don’t know azurescen mushrooms have (BY FAR!) the most psilocyben, meaning they are far and away the most hallucinogenic mushroom. My brother was housesitting for a close friend of his who was away at a funeral. We planned to go to this guy’s house and partake in them. I knew this guy, but not well. I knew he was a very nice guy and that’s about all. I had never been to his house.
We arrived at his house at about 6:30 after getting all the necessaries; hot dogs, macaroni, cake, soda and “Fantasia”. We put everything away, I got acquainted with the house and we got a little bit of wood for the fire, which was the only form of heat in this 40-degree weather. Then my brother showed me his gravity bong and we smoked 1 bowl between us, even though it was only a half bowl and the pot was not that great quality, we seemed to be really high. Then we each took 1,000 mgs of Vitamin C as it somehow stimulates a trip to greater heights. Finally, we took the Shrooms…my brother took his gram and I actually took two grams. Now once again, bare in mind, these are not normal Shrooms, these are potent as hell! Far and away the most common type of Shroom is the cubensis strain (many people have only ever had this type) that has .8% psilocyben and these azurescens have nearly 3%!!! Even I can do the math, THAT IS OVER THREE TIMES AS POWERFUL! So two grams of this stuff is six grams of your average Shroom. The trip had begun…
As they all do, my bad trip started quite pleasantly. I was on the couch and my brother was in front of me starring into the fire. The fire seemed magnificent. The color of it was gorgeous, the heat felt spectacular and I remember watching the way it burned and thinking that it was a living breathing entity, not unlike me. We gazed in amazement at the simple little fire burning inside this metal furnace. The Shrooms had taken affect but they had not really hit us. My brother wanted to go outside to smoke a Cigarette. He was happy as hell but he was aware that under influence of Shrooms you didn’t always have the best judgment. We both seemed to be worried that we were going to mess up this guy’s house, most likely by burning it down…this thought was a relentless one throughout the night. So, as he was going outside he proceeded to warn me not to mess with the fire. The mood was jubilant and we were joking; “Don’t touch the fire. Its evil! That is why they keep it in a cage!” I was left alone while he smoked briefly, and I do not really remember much of that time at all. However, I remember when he came back I was still feeling good and again we sat watching the fire amazed at its beauty. Then I felt the massness of the trip build inside me (probably brought on by the 2nd installment of Shrooms, which I took two or three minutes after the first), expanding and growing to a size I had never imagined was possible. It is hard to imagine the feeling, even for me. The best I can do is say that I felt my sanity slip away. The feeling incubated in me until it reached a point I could barely stand it. Part of me denied it was happening, a sort of wishful thinking. However, finally I succumbed enough to admit it and told my brother “I think I am bad tripping”.
He wanted to take care of me so we walked into the guest room of this house and lay on the bed. We hadn’t done anything like this for a long, long time but we lay together under the same blankets and I wrapped my arms around my brother and closed my eyes and wished all this overwhelming thought to go away. Like I said, I had tripped before I was ready for some life rearranging affirmations but something made these thoughts more intense. It was extremely intimidating. I remember being really nervous about dehydrating, as one always does when one eats Shrooms. I was too afraid to go to the sink, so I just lay there. I remember thinking I was so dry that my left arm had fallen off and saw myself as a skeleton in the desert with a hot desert sun in the background, at first the image was more of a thought but then it became something I could see, a little more tangible. I remember thinking how utterly pathetic the scene was, a 6’3 225 lbs young adult curled into the fetal position in utter terror, like some little baby. This is when the dynamics of out relationship started to enter into the trip. When I was a child and my parents would be absent from our lives, my brother would take over as the protective father and the nurturing mother, or our best interpretation of what those roles were. Through the first part I was bad tripping he nurtured me, I kept saying stuff like “what’s happening”, “where are we, are we in a safe place” and the absolute fear in my voice was just dripping; and still he kept calmly reassuring me; “you are in a safe place where people love you…its all very positive”. It was like a mantra and he kept repeating it. It was the soundtrack as I saw an array of confusing and horrible things. Amongst which I remember two vividly. One was, I saw a picture in Las Vegas style flashing neon lights, and the lights were blinking in a constant and unchanging rhythm. The picture was of a severed human head and I could see it bleeding from the neck, an interesting sight at any time but particularly when you see it with Las Vegas style flashing neon lights and are mentally unstable. Anyways, the severed head was on a green hill with a blue-sky backdrop with a single white cloud. The hill, the sky and the cloud all looked like Legos, fake and plastic. The head had a long tongue sticking out and the tongue was being retracting and then extended again in the exact same rhythm the lights were blinking. As the tongue was moving in and out I heard a sound, also in the rhythm, it sounded like someone inhaling and exhaling heavily. I saw a lot of rhythms around this time, blinking lights, sounds anything and everything seemed to marching to a rhythm that was oddly soothing to me in this time of chaos. I kept hearing the sounds of small animals in the other room laughing and scurrying around demonically. I remember bantering on to my brother as I was holding onto him that “I’ll be safe as long as I stay within the rhythms” and he obviously had not clue as to what I was talking about. I remember constantly trying to correct my breath so I would breath in the rhythm; it made me feel a bit more secure. The other specific hallucination I had at this point was the most terrifying one I have ever had. It has made many people laugh out loud but I can assure, it was most definitely not funny. At some point I noticed the edges of the ceiling in the room seemed to be bouncing, to the rhythm again. They kept bouncing slightly and then they seemed to turn purple and yellow. The bouncing and the colors solidified into tiny multi-colored translucent Teddy Bears. The bears were sort of bouncing along (to the rhythm) and chanting something I never could not decipher, but something dark and insidious, not to mention threatening. The chants to were in the same rhythm. I could see it in their hideous faces (on my deathbed I will have the image of their awful faces still etched within my mind, I will never forget their faces) these were angry. Very, very angry bears…and they pointed at me; directing all their anger towards me. They were laughing to, I don’t know why but I remember they were. The laugh was a sort of celebration of what they were going to do to me, what that was I don’t know and I don’t think I ever found out. Imagine a man in my state, watching thousands of tiny, translucent, multi-colored, angry as all hell, laughing Teddy Bear’s dancing above the ceiling, and they were all over the place, with their anger burning furiously at me for some reason and the way they were pointing was so confrontational. What’s worse, at this point I was so messed up I actually believed this was real, those Teddy Bear’s were there. Whereas with the severed head incident, frightening as it was, I could make myself believe it was not real. Also to make matters worse…it is nearly a universal experience that while tripping the trip comes in intervals, sometimes you feel okay, almost like your sober and you always wonder if you really are and sometimes you are very clearly within the troves of a trip, while this can be torturous and exhausting even during some good trips, at least you have down time during the trip, for at this point in my trip the whole thing was one big long trip with no down time.
At this point I was bantering constantly and sometimes it was almost as if I wasn’t the one who was saying them, but figuring it out now I think I was saying what I was thinking, because I remember thinking things that my brother told me I said, but I don’t remember saying them. Perhaps it was a telepathic communication. I have heard of many people experiencing this during a trip but I can’t be sure of that…The thought aspect of the Shroom trip had kicked into overdrive, I was now thinking a million things at once and experiencing all emotions over and over again in a dizzyingly tiring way. Around this point in the trip I remember another hallucination where I saw myself as a sort of mad scientist. I was in a dark room and there was only one light, and it was flickering on and off and as it would flicker off I could no longer see myself. In this hallucination I was balancing my head on my hand, you know as you lean onto your hand when you are on a desk or something, and my index finger was pointed out so it lay on the center of my forehead. The look on my face was a dead serious steely look and my mouth was moving at the speed of my thought, saying everything I was thinking, which I can assure you was more thought in ten minutes then you will find by reading a college textbook, please believe me.
To this point my brother was still having a good trip, he was tripping off on the idea that he was taking care of his little brother and nurturing me the best he could. However, at some point, I don’t exactly remember when, his trip began to turn bad. Around the time I saw the Teddy Bear’s I started to see and especially hear lots and lots of things that I was fairly sure were real. So I would ask my brother; “Did you see that”, “what was that”, “where are we”, “oh, hell what is that”…he would always answer “no, its just nothing, don’t worry, your safe”. Then I saw, what was for me the most disturbing part of the trip; the panic, terror and utterly disgusting amount of confusion in my brother eyes and face. As I would repeat the myriad of questions I was bombarding him with at a furious rate he started answering me with stuff like; “Ya, I heard that”, “I don’t know, did I hear that”, “something is here” and “someone is in the house” to name a few. This is when the terror and panic kicked up to a whole new level, when my brother lost it, I totally lost any anchor in reality I may have had. We were both totally fucked, spaces out beyond amazement and in matter of time and in a matter of “highness”, this trip had only begun. We were not even close to peaking. I can honestly say the most unsettling memory I have was during this period when I asked my brother if he saw something and just like a horrified little kid he said “Ya, I did and uh, uh….uh, ya they are pretty scary” and as he said this he slowly pulled the covers over his eyes. He wanted to stop seeing whatever it was he was seeing but he also didn’t trust whatever it was when he wasn’t watching.
At some point during this time I began to feel that my pants were wet. I remember thinking that I had better not tell my brother, but apparently I said something because at some point he said “what!? Dude, you wet the bed?” I told him that I did and we got up, felt the bed and were disappointed to find out that I had. I remember saying, “I will help clean this up in the morning”, a phrase we found ourselves constantly repeating for the remainder of the trip. At this point I was really flipping my lid with some negativity. I couldn’t believe that a “normal” kid like me would wet the bed like some fucking infant; I was so pathetic, wetting the bed at my age! I also began to think about maybe my parents and the religious of the world were right, maybe drugs really were evil after all. I remember thinking, “Is this what I want? To be fucked up?” I began to remember when I was a small kid and would listen to the yammering about how drugs were evil and bad, and I would think, “why would people ever do something like that”. I felt like a good little boy, very safe and secure, I didn’t do drugs and that (I thought) made me better and more pure than anyone who did. Now, I felt as though I betrayed that little boy and my family, I became one of those nasty, dirty, filthy confused druggies…I was one of those “other” people. I remember thinking how evil what I was doing was and that all I wanted to do was to go home to my mother and confess and have her hold me (we haven’t been close for years in reality though) and tell me the same way she use to when my family was together and I was still a “good little boy” and that “everything was okay” and safe and I didn’t have to worry about whether I was evil or not.
During these thoughts we got up out of bed and my brother got a change of clothes and was going to take a shower. I needed to go take a piss so I did and then waiting for him in the bathroom. I could hear him outside, in the troves of his bad trip occasionally yelling for me so I could yell back and we could know we were still there. When he came back to the bathroom he was carrying an electronic room heater (because it was now 30 degrees and we were to afraid to go outside and get wood) and I immediately assumed that he was so messed up that he wanted to take it with him in the shower, a thought that never crossed his mind. So as soon as he came back in I immediately was pleading, “No man, don’t do it! You’re fucked up; you don’t know what you are doing! For the love of God please, please, don’t do it!” I was thinking that if he did I would lose my brother so I was desperate to make him understand. He, meanwhile, wasn’t even thinking about that and was totally confused and frustrated at whatever the hell it was I was trying to say. Anyways, he somehow let me know that that wasn’t his plan so I let him use it. Only, we couldn’t figure out how to get it to work. So he just took a shower without it, and I waiting for him on the other side of the curtain not wanting to be alone. At this point, my bantering had been turned up to mach levels, although they seemed normal to me. I was talking at a nearly unspeakable rate and to make it more confusing for my poor brother I was changing the subject with ever sentence. The subjected were ridiculously wide in variety but more that later.
At this point my memory becomes pretty patchy. My brother was so overwhelmed and confused at the many things I was saying and also the many things in his own head that he told me he needed a break. The idea of going out into the rest of the house alone was terrible but somehow I did it, albeit for sort intervals. In hindsight I can see that it was only now was I peeking! Indeed, this is the point in the story in which my confusion built up to its great zenith. I remember leaving the bathroom and closing the door, which then meant I was standing in this hall with three ways to go – the guest room, the homes owner’s room and the bedroom. However, I remember being totally terrified at what I called the “infinite and great variety of choices” that was overwhelming me, which was again, only three. I repeatedly came back into the bathroom, partly for comfort, partly to see if my brother was okay and partly to relay the story of my adventures, but I never could keep on the subject long enough to tell him anything. I remember leaving the bathroom again and staring out into the living room where the man’s dog would look at me and bark. When I first came in the dog had greeted me so nicely and then been terrified of me ever since the trip began (in fact every time I saw a specific hallucination the dog would bark and growl at me, in more of a defensive way than an aggressive way). The dog was a very nice dog, but it most definitely knew something big was going on in the house and it didn’t like it. I felt bad for frightening this nice man’s nice dog so I remember turning back to go into the bathroom. As I did, I remember specifically seeing the dog on the couch. However, I suddenly heard a bark directly behind me and felt the distinct feeling of warm dog breath on my leg. So I turned and looked, and sure enough he was there. How he got there so fast was a mystery. As I looked at the dog just in front of me I heard the same dog bark again only the dogs mouth didn’t move and I heard the bark from the couch. I looked up at the couch and saw the dog in its original place. I was confused, I looked back down and the dog was gone, I looked back up on the couch and the dog was there. This similar thing with the dog happened repeatedly throughout the night to me, it made me realize just how fucked up I was, and it unsettled me very much. I also remember looking into the mirror in the guy’s hall. The mirror seemed to be staying in its shape yet it seemed to be water rather than solidified glass. I was horrified at how fucked up I had become, yet I remember looking into the mirror and seeing myself looking so completely happy and smiling, yet I felt nothing like I looked. Part of me recognized the man in the mirror was me, but the other part of me was madder than hell because this bastard was laughing at a time like this. I can’t say for sure that the other part of me recognized the man in the mirror or not. I also looked at myself and saw myself shrink and grow at the same time…don’t ask. As I gazed heavier and heavier into the mirror, it seemed the hallucinations in the mirror grew more intense. The mirror turned black and suddenly I was in outer space, but the whole time I never stopped looking at the mirror. Just behind me to my right I could see a giant galaxy in glorious intricacy, so many tiny little stars and a bright bulge in the middle. I saw a comet make a half circle around it and then wiz by my head. To my left I saw another galaxy, much smaller though. Suddenly, I realized just how far into my hallucination I had become, for I was indeed in such a trance I was nearly in service to it! I snapped out of it only to see all around me there was tiny bright rainbow colored flakes of air, kind of like dots but without a defined ending or beginning, they were there but they had no edges. They were floating peacefully everywhere. Again, I retreated to the bathroom. I had just been in outer space and seen other galaxies.
At some point we got out of the bathroom and made it into the living room. Memories of that are very sketchy and even the sketchy parts took months to piece together. I remember my brother wearing nothing but a towel and standing next to a chair, then he sort of leaned on it and kept saying things like “Woooo…shit”, “Fuck, I am so fucking messed up”, “Shit, I am never taking Mushroom’s again”. All the while I was babbling at light speed about everything. From God, to you have to understand the Dad loves you, to have you read this book, have you read that book, didn’t September 11th suck, don’t you love basketball, isn’t my girlfriend great, don’t you love our sister and most vividly I kept asking what time it was. I asked because I realized I had no idea how long we had been tripping. It was 8:30; with luck we were only just reaching the half way point in our trips! Without luck we might still have four hours left or more. However, 8:30 was a curious time to me because it always seemed to be 8:30. No matter how many times I asked it was always 8:30. He was getting really annoyed at my array of topics and myriad of speeches that lasted only a few seconds; I was really wearing him out. So, I deliberately decided I would only ask about every ten minutes what time it was. So I thought I spaced the times I was asking out, however he was getting more and more annoyed and it was always 8:30. It never stopped being 8:30. It was confusing. It was frustrating. It was plain and simple madness. It seemed like hours, and still it was 8:30. Oh, I was still in the peak. Meanwhile, during this period of time I remember a lot of things that I don’t recall in what sequence they happened. I remember one terrifying thing were I was looking at this guy’s Tikki Dolls and they seemed to be very angry with me. They to seemed to be pointing at me and angry, only these Dolls were not laughing. At the time I was reading Albert Speer’s book, “Inside the Third Reich”. Speer was a big wig Nazi and he wrote a book about what happened during the rise and fall of the Nazi party. Obviously, I didn’t like Nazi’s but I was extremely curious about how so many people could be so messed up. Anyways, so with thoughts of Nazi’s kicking around my brain it was sure to induce a hallucination. It did. I remember seeing Swastikas marching a very stern and evil march around all corners of the room, ceiling and floor both. They too were marching to the same rhythm, only they seemed to be so full of anger and hate that they were mechanical, sort of controlled by their hatred. This made their steps more forceful and fiercer. I also remember freaking out because everything was so wide open. There was just so much space in the world and in the universe it was disorienting and unsettling. At some point I scored a major victory…I asked my brother what time it was and he replied 8:40, and I did a little dance with relief. I also remember me and my brother thinking that we should watch something to settle down and ease our minds. We decided on “Fantasia”, but then realized it was in the car…outside. It was unthinkable for us to go outside. So we tried to watch some plain old TV instead. Somehow, we couldn’t manage to get it to work so we scrapped that idea as well.
I don’t remember how but we went into the guy’s bedroom to use his bed because the other one was covered in urine. We lay under the covers and my brother was desperately trying to sleep through it. I was much too nervous to sleep, however my brother was quite and I tried to let him sleep. It was quite and I was alone with my thoughts. At this point the trip started to thin out, only in regard to that now it came in intervals and I had time to catch my breath between swings of psychosis and reality. I felt a strong presence of death coming from outside the house, and all around us. I kept seeing my brother die and then start to decay as flowers and shrubs grew around his body. I kept calling to him to see if he was alive, which he was. However, as soon as he would tell me he was alive it would all start up again with him dying and then shrubs growing, etc. I remember feeling a bit sober and deciding I had really better drink. So I walked out into the living room to go to the kitchen. The nervous little dog was on the couch and right in front of him, the feeling mounted again, full throttle. The dog barked, he was very afraid of me and I felt really bad for upsetting this poor dog. To the tune of a barking dog I remember hitting the ground and looking at the roof and seeing a spiral rainbow colored vortex. I continued on into the kitchen in the troves of a trip and got some water, as I was drinking I attempted to watch the lights I suddenly saw blinking and twirling and swirling on the roof. However, in my state watching and drinking was too much and I continued to spill water everywhere. I went back to bed.
At some point, once again we realized I had wet this bed as well. I repeated our phrase that we had been using so much “I’ll help clean this up in the morning”. We were so exhausted and confused we didn’t give a shit anymore, we just laid in it. My brother and me were both completely gone mentally, we were scared and we kept saying “its gotta be morning soon, the sun will come up soon and this will all be over”. We were sure it was at least 4 A.M. by this point, possibly even 6. Also, I remember somehow convincing myself that my brother wasn’t real; he was a figment of my imagination. Then somehow I flipped it, I wasn’t real, I was a figment of his imagination. I remember thinking I had better not piss him off or let him die. Then I remember getting confused…thinking “someone has got to be animating the bodies in this reality, but who?” I believe in God, strongly I might add so my question wasn’t “is there a God”, but “who is God?” This was definitely a point in the trip where I stepped away from my Ego and examined it subjectively, although I am not sure it was total Ego loss. How can you be sure? At some point, while I was still very much messed up, my father called. I couldn’t answer it because I was far to messed to carry on a conversation. I missed the call. I felt like I betrayed him. He was trying to maintain a relationship with me and here I was doing drugs and being an idiot. Again, I grappled with the morality of using drugs and again I felt like I was evil and that my parents would be disgusted with me, and myself from years back would be disgusted with me. My brother later said the call put him in a very similar tale spin. I was depressed that I missed the call, it was awful. I went into the living room to be closer towards the source of my dad’s brief message; somehow it seemed comforting at the time. I wanted to hear his voice again very, very badly. So I tried to replay the message, but somehow I couldn’t get it to work. At this point I could feel myself sobering up, I knew I was getting close to the light at the end of the tunnel, however I was still very far from it. I went back to bed, but I couldn’t sleep, still very afraid of what horrible sights might be lingering outside my eyelids, and even when I closed them I saw things. So I decided I was going to get up and try to read or something, I asked my brother where his watch was. Apparently he put it in the bathroom at some point, but I can’t remember that at all. I went to the bathroom once again thinking “its between 4 and 6”. I was absolutely positively sure of it. Then I got a tremendously unnerving shock, it was 10:12 P.M…I have always been really good at guessing the time and once again I realized how fucked up I really was. The shock of being so far off in the time sent me dizzying into what was to be one last spell of the trip.
I tumbled back to bed where I believe from the other room the dog was communicating with me Telepathically, once again how can you be sure? He seemed to be upset that we were in his master’s bed and he thought we were trying to replace him. I felt myself coming back together and I went back into the living room. At this point I realized that TV was on (although on no channel) from what could have been hours ago or only minutes, I can’t be sure. I sat down and thought and then suddenly it hit me as sure as a bolt of lighting. My consciousness clicked back into place, I was not sober but my mind was now functioning and immediately and automatically started to try and piece things together. At this point I had no clue what day it was, what time it was, or even if I was real or just a figment of my brothers imagination or something. I still was seeing little things and felt weird but I had my wits enough to start to put my reality back together. I went back and told my brother “I am okay now”, he replied he was not and that he needed to alone. I desperately wanted to call someone, for the soul purpose of seeing if they actually existed or not, they might have been figments of my imagination. It’s a scary thing when you really have to call someone you love to decipher whether or not your memories of them were a hallucination or not. I thought about all the beautiful moments I shared with my girlfriend and I really couldn’t be sure at that point whether they were real or not. I cried because there was a real possibility, as far as I was concerned that everyone I ever thought I knew was a creation of my imagination and I really had a different life. Which meant all my emotional connections were false. I called my best friends and I scared them a bit with my shaky voice and bizarre questions, but at least I knew they were real. From that I assumed everything in my memory was real also. At this point my brother came out and he was now “okay” as well. We sat in silence for a while and wore huge smiles of relief. It felt great to be alive after something like that, it was a little like a rebirth. I just didn’t take sobriety for granted. On my first trip ever I wrote a huge sing in my room that said “REALITY IS THE BIGGEST TRIP OF ALL”, since that trip I always appreciated both the toxic and the non-toxic mind. I was grateful just to be alive. We talked a little bit about it. Then we ate. My brother seemed to be very quick to put something between him and the trip. He threw himself in a video game and that’s all he would talk about. He never talked about it since either, which is a drag because I could learn a lot more about this trip if I could hear his recollection of it.
As we walked around the house we realized the bedlam was in our minds. We kept saying, “we are going to clean this up”, but nothing was really disturbed. It turned out I hadn’t even wet either of the beds at all, nor my pants. We also found out some weird things, the single room heater that my brother brought into the bathroom to take a shower was a plug in. All you had to do was plug it in, no dials to set temperature or anything, just plug it in. However, if you remember we couldn’t get it to work! Also, the TV, you just had to turn it on and then turn on the VCR, nothing more complex, but we couldn’t get it to work. The message machine I tried to replay my dad’s message on was also quite simple to work. It was a very confusing, disorienting odd time…
I have not yet fully recovered from this trip but the worst is over. For a long time I could not smoke pot because the feeling that I might be going back into a bad trip so overwhelmed my mind that merely smoking pot was like another bad trip, exactly like a bad trip. I still have not been able to have a pleasant experience with my once beloved Mushrooms, but I am really thinking I am getting close. The emotional scars are healing and I have only recently found “How to Avoid Bad Trips” kind of web pages, for what they are worth. It gets better everyday but even now I have trouble sleeping at night because my mind is fearful that everything could go all crazy again, I am always afraid to close my eyes. Showers and sleeping are now quite hard because of the fear that I am too vulnerable. Also I have had something infect my mind ever since then that was never there before. I keep having nightmares about hell, and I keep thinking I am evil and I don’t know what to do. I keep thinking I am going to be burning in hell, constantly being tortured for all eternity, with no beginning, no middle and no end to the suffering. It is a thought that sometimes consumes me. Even now I struggle with the idea of whether or not drugs are bad. However, everyday it gets better and as I begin to talk to like-minded people about this I seem to understand it more and everything in my life gets a little better. One important thing I learned is that the rhythm that I heard…I think I understand it now. Everything beat to the same rhythm and I wanted to even breath on the same unchanging rhythm. I think I don’t like change to a dramatic degree. When my brain was on overload it converted everything to a single rhythm so I could break it down and feel secure. I need to learn to like change better in my life. Also, my time confusion where it always was 8:30…I think I psychedelic trip is one into a study of Everything, Eternity, God, consciousness…Everything. So you begin to relate to Everything. In the scope of all creation a few seconds is not at all a long time, but in the scope of a single day it is. We are all use to judging time by its place in the day. At some point my mind began judging time in its place in eternity. I also think I understand why we couldn’t work basic household appliances. I think me and my brother biggest mistake was fighting the trip so hard. We were really tripping hard and we even experienced at least some Ego Death, but we fought so hard to stay within our comfortable, mortal, Earthly realm that we wanted to watch TV for comfort. However, our mind was now functioning on a bigger level and it did not relate to TV and things like that, the hemispheres of our brains were at war and both sides may have suffered because of it. If we hadn’t of fought it I think we would have embraced it and experienced some sure fire Ego Death, for better or worse. Also the presence of death in the room, we found out in the morning something we did not know. Just behind the house there was a graveyard, which might explain it. Things are starting to come together and if anyone has any interpretations or similar experiences I ask you, please get in touch with me! I desperately NEED like minded people to help me unravel this. My e-mail is firstname.lastname@example.org
I know understand that Shrooms are no joke, and I now view trips as a journey into knowledge greater than all of us, of which I must learn as much as I can about it. It is no longer taken lightly and simply stupid fun. I encourage people to push their boundaries slowly and to take things carefully. And give Shroom’s the respect that they require.
I hope someone benefits from this in any way at all…