One day last year in late Autum or early winter, I was walking my Fox Terrier, Monty around the lake next to my house, in the suburbs of Melbourne Australia. As I passed an area thick with pine needles on the ground, I noticed a huge batch of psilocybin mushies(don't ask me the type, I only know the type that grows next to my house). I excitedly picked all eighty mushrooms, gathering them up in my jumper and hurrying home. It was a beautiful sunny day, perfect for drying out mushrooms, so I got on my roof and layed them out were they'd get plenty of sun , when they were dry I blended them up and and poured the brown powder into an air tight jar.
It was around 4:00 in the arvo, and I had the jar of valuable powder in my hands, needless to say the desire to trip was present in my head. I rationalized that a teaspoon in my coffee would have no stronger effect than a relaxed sensation, maybe brighter colour vision. About half an hour after drinking the cup(the dried mushies, tasted just like the mushroom soup you buy in the shops), my heart began to race, and my hearing and vision was distorted. I went to the car to get something out, as I searched for what I needed I became engrosssed in the patterns on the car's apolstery, the small blue lines were flowing in rows down the grey surface. I knew then that this was going to be a powerful trip.
I had taken mushies a few times before but this was the first time that patterns had been altered and moving so blatantly before my eyes, also my heart was racing and I couldn't just sit and relax. I decided that a walk would calm me down and clear my head. As I was tying my shoes up, my mum walked into the room and started talking to me, she was naging me about getting a job, and I found that I had to think really hard about the simplest questions. My mums face seemed old and worn, her eyes seemed worried and defeated, I noticed spiderwebs threaded into her hair, and hanging off her black shirt. She looked hideous.
I parted with my mum as soon as possible, found my dog, put his leash on and took off. Paul Stametes sais that a dog is a great tripping partner, that your pet seems to know when you're tripping and becomes more protective. When your dog is a coughing, spluttering mess with cancer however, choking itself at the end of its leash, it tends to be more of a freak out than anything else. I began talking to my dog telling him nervously to calm down, but he would not. I did my best to reason with him but he just kept on choking himself. The sound was destroying any calm that remained inside my mind. I started to feel ill, and the notion that I had picked a deadly batch of look-a-likes invaded my head. In my fucked up state it seamed to explain the uncontrollable panic, lack of orientation, and extreme visual effects.
I hurried back to the safety of my home. I remember being unable to comprehend the simplest idea, or landscape yet everything filled mw with fright. As I walked up my driveway I was sort of moaning like some stupid suffering animal. I spent the next period of time which seemed like hours but was probably only twenty minutes walking around my house in which nothing seemed to be familiar, or comforting. I could lie on my bed and the level of panic would abate slightly, but as soon as I focussed on anything it would brim over again.
When my dad came through the door after a hard days work I rushed up to him and explained that I thought I was dying, because I'd eaten poisinous mushrooms. He was obviously concerned, and asked me how long ago i'd eaten them. I was too disoriented to answer the question, and just paced around agitatedly repeating the question becoming more and more frustrated with its complexity, after this my dad refrained from asking me anymore questions and decided to drive me to the hospital.
We arrived at the emergency ward, as I got out my dad told me to put some shoes on. This pissed me off and I said "I'm fucking dying, can't we just forget about the fucking shoes." A couple who were walking passed stared at me, and I suddenly felt really stupid and embarrassed. We went into the emergency ward and I talked to a nurse with a face blotched with moving and blending bright pinks, greens, and blues who seemed discusted by the fact that I ate magic mushrooms, or atleast tried to...
They put me on one of those metal beds with wheels on it and left me there. They obviously understood that I was just hallucinating and that I'd soon understand what was going on. I thought that they were going to operate on me, and when a nurse came with a blanket I starded yelling and kiking telling them not to do it. My dad had to calm me down. I spent the rest of the time staring at some kids who were playing in the hospital. They were laughing and play fighting and their arms would sudenly move in hyperspeed flailing around their heads, and then slow down again. I felt like a big dumb child who was too sick to play.
Soon after this the panic subsided and I realized I wasn't dying I was just tripping, and with this understanding, I suddenly felt fine. I got off the bed told my parents I was ready to go and left. Sorry, false alarm.
The rest of the trip was introspective and mild. I must have misjudged the dose I was taking because of it being in dried form. I've had mushroom experiences before and hence that have been much more enjoyable, but not as eventful as this one was.