I learned first hand the utter terror of a trip gone bad a few weeks ago. I was visiting a buddy in my old college town, brought along a film canister of nugs and 16 grams of dried cambodian cubensis. To cut past all the blah blah blah, at around 1:45 am we decided to hook up with some other friends who were in town, and I ate 4 grams and my buddy ate 3. I turned on a few other friends, so 6 of us ended up munching them. Things were cool, we puffed on nugs and sipped a few cold ones. Slowly and smoothly, I could feel thickening layers of the trip settling down on me, at least thats what it felt like. As the trip began to intensify, i started to feel a little restless, along with feelings of agoraphobia, because we were out in a detached garage. I popped some mellow dub riddims in the cd player, and that helped, but everyone seemed to be talking really loud, and laughing way too loud. Still, i was cool, walked around a little bit, got some fresh air. That's when i discovered i couldn't pee, though i really needed to. I was so tense and tripping so hard, i couldn't freaking pee! Still, everything was cool. I sat in my car for a little while, listening to mellow music and sipping water. Two of my friends came out of the garage we were partying in, and starting laughing at the tree (lol) really loud. I realized it was around 4 in the am by then, and started getting really paranoid. This is a tiny hick town we were in and the cops have nothing better to do than mess with college students and hippies. In retrospect, i really think it was the nugs i had that made me so paranoid, or at least amplified it. They made me paranoid as shit the first time i puffed them. Really really stoned, but paranoid. So anyway, i decided to split. I got the keys from my buddy, and set off to walk the 2 miles back to his pad. 2 miles, no big deal. I'm in decent shape, though a little pudgy, but I walked all over that damn town when i lived there. well, after i got lost twice, i finally got on the right track. Oh, and lest you forget, I was full on peaked,hallucinating, and i really couldn't feel most of my body or tongue. There were streams of letters, numbers, and symbols in all different colors all around me. The ground was all crazy geometric designs, which made walking a little tough. but walk i did, stepping up into a purposeful stride/powerwalk. I stripped off my sweatshirt because i was dripping sweat, despite the fact it was 30 degrees F out. Then it happened. It was quickly forgotten right after it happened, but it haunted me for 2 weeks. I busted my shit on an ice patch. Full on, feet in the air, flat on my back on the sidewalk. Splat. Oooph. I hopped up, and kept on trucking. Only 6 blocks to go, no problem. Then i realized my left arm was tingling, like it was asleep. Then i realized, it was kinda hard to breath. I was panting even. And does my chest hurt? I think it does. And the realization came crashing down on me, I am 30 years old and its 4:30 am and I'm having a heart attack right here on the corner. No cell phone on me, no cars coming. A fucking heart attack. I took a dep breath, pulled myself together,and i walked. Slowly. Breathing deeply and trying to calm myself.I could feel my heart pounding in my chest. Fuck. With everystep.. "Only a few more blocks. walk. walk dammit." I thought of my fiancee, of someone having to tell her I died of a heart attack in a puddle. Three more blocks. Walk. I'm fucking dying. Wait. If i was having a heart attack, would i have been able to walk this far? Does my arm tingle or am i just tripping? Finally! I made it. I plopped down on the front steps, and tried to pull myself together. Its still a little hard to breath, and i definitely hurt. I tried for all of two seconds to make sense of the keys, then crammed em back in my pocket. Suddenly the urgent need to pee came screaming back, and yep, i pissed my pants. Fuck it. I managed to limp to the back door, where there was at least a light, and finally got in. I managed to change clothes, wrapped up in a blanket, and spent the next 5 hours getting my head kicked by those shrooms, wondering if i had really had a heart attack or what. Finally got some sleep, ate, slept some more. I felt better, my head was a little iffy, and i hurt. My chest ached. Skip past more blah blah, and I'm back at home, still feeling like crap, with this sense of impending doom or death or disaster. Like i could drop dead at any momoent, and really, if i did have a heart attack, i could have. Went to the doctor, both cuz i was so freaked out and duh, i thought i might have had a heart attack. Hell yeah i'm going straight to the doc. Well, thankfully, no heart attack. Two sprained ribs and a rerupture of my hiatal hernia. I must have fallen pretty hard, and not even realized it. The fact that i had biffed it never even occured to me when i realized i was hurt, my head went straight to "Here i come Elizabeth" mode. 5 Hours of overwhelming thoughts of death and sadness and loss. Not good.
What did i do wrong? well, i ate too much to start with. I am fairly experienced with hallucinogens, but all the shrooms i've ever had have been crumbly oxidized old drug dealer shrooms, these were a potent strain, only 2 days dried. 4 grams of these would have been enough to make a moose trip. Two of the people there only ate about 1 gram each, and they were feeling pretty damn good. I am a homebody, i like a comfy chair and quiet, peaceful surrounding. We were in a stanky garage with no chairs, 3 bare 100 watt bulbs,too many loud people, in a town where i don't live. Not the best surroundings for a high dosage trip. I definitely should not have eaten them after driving 6 hours, smoking noid nugs, at bar close. (thank god i don't drink, can't imagine that experience with being drunk thrown in)And my drunk friend following me around hitting on me and rubbing her knockers on me might seem like it should make me mellow out, but It really made me uncomfortable, considering i just told her i was getting married in 6 months.
I don't really know what the point is, I just wanted to share an experience with a full blown bad trip. not to be preachy but damn, be careful with this stuff. Powerful hallucinogens are really not a good choice of recreational substance. I know it will be a long time before i eat any mushies again. At least until Queeb, anyway. 
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hope i never hear surf music again...
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