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Offlinedavinox
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Registered: 10/19/05
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Last seen: 18 years, 2 months
1/8th of Mushrooms = A Year of Therapy?
    #4856905 - 10/26/05 09:32 PM (18 years, 5 months ago)

I have eaten mushrooms 5 times previously, have taken 1 hit on LSD, and frequently smoke cannabis. I received recently, as a gift from an ex, an 1/8th of shrooms. I ate these, with chocolate milk and orange juice, at about 3:00 PM.

I was very excited and was trying to build as much optimism for the trip as possible. I thought, perhaps foolishly, that by sheer repetition that "I will have a good trip" beforehand that I could reach psychedelic bliss during the trip. Right after I ate the shrooms, I made myself a backpack with an IPod, some Dali and Escher books, my wallet and cell phone. I planned to walk to my college's meditation room and meditate in hopes of reaching a spiritual high (one such, on mushrooms, was the greatest moment of my life). I did not eat that day (I'm used to eating a lot, since I'm on a high-protein diet trying to gain weight), believing that fasting would make me more cleansed and ready to accept the onslaught of emotion, and I was ready for spiritual/mental exploration.

I felt very good on the come-up, very excited to be shrooming, until I went into my friends room. Several of my friends and my girlfriend were smoking out of a vaporizer, and I just couldn't get comfortable. My friends didn't get very high, and I was obviously "the kid on shrooms". I felt a general "shroomy strangeness" but was not hallucinating or out-of-control. It was odd how familiar the strangeness felt; I completely forgot what shrooms were like until they kicked in. It feels like you realize that you are on an alien planet; it feels like you have a completely different appreciation for your body and for your existence. For a while, I couldn't tell if I was glad I ate the shrooms or not. All of my friends were directly and blissfully high, and could eat/sleep/chill-out, and I could not. I was racing away on strange metaphysical emotion, struggling to find my element. I could walk around and act normal; I wasn't even hallucinating, but it was all strained, forced. Did I just make such a big deal about something that is going to suck away my day and make it difficult to act sober?

After smoking, we went to my friend Mike's room. He put on some music, and I felt much more comfortable on his bed. Yet still, the more quiet I was, the better and less anxious I felt, but also the less I felt social and accepted. I felt like I was boring people. I realized that I was dealing with anxiety, social anxiety, accelerated while under the emotions of shrooms. This form of anxiety I have seen before while shrooming; it has a distinct aura to it and it's own hallucination. When I close my eyes, I see images of faces, messed-up, distorted faces with irregular teeth, inhuman features and disgusting physiognomies, and this is also how I feel inside. Shroom anxiety is horrible, and it was rearing its ugly head at me.

However, something unexpected happened. My friend randomly played Mozart?s Requiem, and I was dumbfounded. Listening to the music made me feel like I was gaining a soul. I am a spiritual person, in that I believe spiritual experience, probably through processes in the brain, is possible. However, listening to this very religious music truly affected me, in a way that was different than my usual, analytical, and clear Zen outlook. My friend Mike said, as the music was being played: ?Mozart genuinely believed that, if you listen to this, your soul is helped in the afterlife.?

Feeling my soul gain weight was amazing. I felt like crying. I felt somehow close to death, yet not actually thinking that I was going to die. This was my epiphany at the time: We are all addicted to patterns of behavior, eating, sleeping, talking to people in a certain way, working, etc. If, for instance, you merely stopped eating, you would, in a month, die and decompose and there would no longer be any question that you would be one with the universe again. We actually all are one with the universe all of the time, but there are these patterns of behavior that keep us separated, keep us conscious and believing that we are different, that our atoms are separate from the rest of the atoms of the universe. This basic idea of death and the acceptance of death completely washed over me, and I realized how much anxiety I had over trivial things, that I would continue living no matter what until the day that I died and that worrying about minor stomach pains and stupid social things was irrelevant. It was then that my shroom anxiety was cured, and, though I was still under the influence of shrooms, I felt lucid and free. I felt like I dealt with many of my inner-demons.

I realized many other things. I realized that these were the years that would make me a man, that I was growing used to patterns of behavior that revolved around smoking weed, that I had a lot of anxiety and really was a very happy person because I was good at alleviating that anxiety with social strokes and escapism, yet the anxiety was still there. I realized the relationship I had with my mother, really truly grasped the idea of her birthing and creating me and my complete dependence on her at one point, and how I was still very much dependent on her in some ways.

After all was said and done, I felt like I had matured about a year. I felt like I had undergone an amazing session of therapy, that I had defeated many of the demons that were born from an exceptionally horrible shroom trip I once had (think of the movie Altered States), that I have a new goal (relieving anxiety), that I am more pragmatic and less escapist when it comes to my meditation, spirituality, and psychedelic use, and that things bother me less. I have more confidence now, and though many of the lessons are wearing off as I go back into my old patterns of behavior, I can only thank those shrooms for being an amazing teacher, if I myself am a lousy student.

In summation: everything that I had prepared, both mentally and physically, to "trip out" to was actually counter-productive. Psychedelic escapism is paltry compared to dealing with the emotions and existence of being a human. This philosophy, I believe, is important to embrace if we want to distinguish shrooms from other "drugs".

Edited by davinox (10/26/05 09:37 PM)

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OfflineDivided_Sky
Ten ThousandThings

Registered: 11/02/03
Posts: 3,171
Loc: The Shining Void
Last seen: 15 years, 9 months
Re: 1/8th of Mushrooms = A Year of Therapy? [Re: davinox]
    #4858789 - 10/27/05 10:52 AM (18 years, 5 months ago)

Nice! Boy, I wish I could face my emotions on an 8th of shrooms, but as it stands know I have to hold on so tight, keeping my mind calm is like walking a tightrope.

I'm glad you had such a productive experience.


--------------------
1. "After an hour I wasn't feeling anything so I decided to take another..."
2. "We were feeling pretty good so we decided to smoke a few bowls..."
3. "I had to be real quiet because my parents were asleep upstairs..."

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