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Couldn't Have Gone Better

first trip, not the last

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.

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