This summer was my summer of adventure... it was my time to do all of the crazy things I wouldnt have time for when work started again. It was weeks of care-free fun, open houses, partys, and of course, mushrooms. Amongst my group of friends, tripping had almost lost its essence of novelty, as a few of us were sure to be tripping on any given weekend. Our connections were strong, so were the mushrooms, and for the first time in Miami I was seeing prices below that of weed (shrooms and weed have always costed the same per weight in my experience). I was tripping on average every 2 weeks at least, more like once a week. All of my trips were mild, nothing above 2 grams, for the sake of keeping some sense of reality in case of emergency. But one night, I decided to let that all go, throw it all out the window. I abandoned the hardfast rules I had set for myself concerning tripping, and went ahead with a major trip unprepared.
A friend of mine decided he wanted to trip for his first time. His father was in Alaska, so we could use his place. I aquired us two 1/8's, one of Malibu, one of Pink Buffallo. The night before our planned trip came, and as I have been many times before, I was anxious and couldnt sleep. I went into my trip on 2 hours of sleep, and having fasted for 3 meals (Dinner, Breakfast, Lunch). Needless to say, I was in no physical condition to handle a trip of this magnitude. Although this was all very clear to me at the time, I ignored my better judgement, and downed the full 1/8 of Pink Buffallo's with a small wad of peanut butter, chased by a glass of OJ. With my last spoonfull of peanutty mushies, and a final swig of orange juice I was at the point of no return, the zero hour. Now all I had to do was wait.
30 mins go by and I am not feeling a damn thing. No pent up energy, no restlessness, nothing. My friend, however, was just a few feet to my right tripping balls. I reassured myself that it was my tolerance that was hindering the come-up, and went outside to smoke some pot.
Over an hour and a half go by, and I am not feeling a god damn thing. At this point , I was sure I had eatn some bum shrooms or something (my other friend ate 7g of mushies a month earlier and they did NOTHING). I was beginning to become very irritated, jelous of my friend who was seeing a technicolor world of fantasy just 2 feet away from me. I couldnt take it anymore, I had to go calm myself down.
I went inside and sat down at the big screen, and BET was on. Now dont get me wrong, I like hip-hop, but I really dont like BET at all, I think its garbage TV. But for some reason, the music seemed amazing, and the images seemed so beautiful. I sat back and thought about it for a second and realized "If BET looks cool right now, I MUST be shrooming". And that was the beginning of the end.
It seemed almost instantly I started to trip harder than I ever had before. Everything around me was twisting and bending, morphing and melting. Colors were flashing everywhere, objects seemed to be flying around the room... it was complete psychadelic chaos. My mind began to shut down, unable to accept what it was recieving. Nothing made any sense, nothing was at all how it should be, the world all together seemed to be out of whack, and it was driving me crazier every passing second.
I ran thru the kitchen into the garage, hoping to find some sort of normalcy outside of the main house. I propped myself up against some home exersize equiptment, and took long deep breaths. Everything seemed to be fading in and out of black and white. I could feel it in my bones, shaking me to my very core... my brain screemed out at me "your body is going to SHUT DOWN". I decided I needed to find somewhere to lay down immediatly, but it was already too late. I took what seemed like 2 1/2 steps towards the door, towards the comfort and saftey of the couch inside, and then everything turned to a brilliant white.
I felt my legs give from undernethe me, and my body folded to the floor like an acordian. When I hit the floor, it felt like I fell into a cloud, warm, soft, cradleing my body in its snow white cotonny texture. It was at this point I had the most intense visuals Ive ever had. Ive tried many times since then to recall exactly what it is that I saw, and all I can remember is the brilliant white light all around me, and seeing what I can only remember being the most beautiful sight I had ever seen in my life (death?). It is what I can only imagine heaven might look like. And in this moment of absolute bliss and beauty, I was suddenly gripped by a terrible fear. "You just collapsed on the floor of your friends garage" I told myself. "If anyone saw it happen, they are no doubt calling an ambulence right now. If the EMTs come, your life is REALLY over. GET UP NOW!"
All at once, blast off... I was on my feet and running inside faster than I could comprehend. It turns out someone HAD seen me pass out, and was freaking out, untill I assured them I was ok, and that it was only a nasty head rush (I wish). He said I looked gray/greenish in the face, and took me to the couch to lay down. I currled up on the leather couch in the fetal position, shaking violently and sweating prefusely. My friend brought me a blanket and a tall glass of water. "Promis me you'll drink this whole glass before you fall asleep. OK!?!" "I promis" I stuttered. "Are you sure youre going to be alright man?" He asked "I knew what I was getting myself into when I did this... I can get thru it. Ill be fine man" I managed to reply. From down the hall I suddenly heard some comotion, and my friend took off to see what was going on. I picked up the glass and took a sip. I put the glass back on the table and wiped my mouth with my shirt sleeve. I pull the sleeve away from my face, and I am horrified to see it is covered in blood. "Is my mouth bleeding? Do I have mouth cancer? Am I dieing?" I starting screaming.... only no one was there to comfort me. While I had been getting settled on the couch, my friend who was tripping for his first time was puking in a bathroom around the corner. Everyones attention was turned to him after I had been given a place to lay down and some water. It was at this point I realized I was on my own in this terrible journey, and I was the only one in the house feeling what I was feeling.
I remember being convinced I was going to die, but everytime someone asked me how I was doing I just nodded my head and gave a weak thumbs up. Had I told them how I really felt, I might have ended up in the hospital that night. Knowing that, I bit my tounge, buckled down, and prepared to weather the storm. "You ate mushrooms, it will all be over in a few hours" I repeated to myself, over and over again. Still I lay there, somewhat paralysed on the couch, convinced that I was dieing. At one point I was sure I forgot how to breathe, and if I was activly thinking about breathing, I would just STOP. That passed eventually, thank god, but I was still there for what felt like an eternity, still 'dieing'.
If you subtract the 2 1/2 hour comeup, the trip still lasted for well over 6 hours... Id estimate somewhere in the 8-10 hour range, although by the end of it I was so exhausted and fried, I didnt think to do the math and figure it out. I felt lucky just to be alive.
I woke up the next afternoon feeling achey, tired, and mentally drained. I slowly walked thru the house with a garbage bag picking up beer bottles and empty cups. Everywhere I turned, I had these awful memories of the night before. Most of the night had been a blurr to me untill I started walking around, then piece by piece it all came back as flashbacks filled my head. Every room I looked into provided me with a 30 second mental montage of the last nights events. All the bad feelings came rushing back.
I walked thru the kitchen to the garage to throw the trash bag away, and upon opening the door I felt a sense of fear and panic. I stepped into the garage and looked over toward the exersize gear... and for a second I could see myself leaning against it, weak, white in the face, and completely out of my mind. My eyes slowly found their way to the floor, and looking down at my feet, clear as day, I could see myself lying on the floor, collapsed, passed out. I thought I was tripping again, wiped my eyes, and upon second glance it was gone. Still though, I stood there staring at the floor, at the place where I thought I had died the night before... It felt like I was looking at the scene of some horrible crime. The feelings of sickness, fear and panic started to come back full force, so I tossed the trash, and quickly returned inside.
When my friend woke up, I asked him how his trip was. He said he didnt want to talk about it... I pryed a little more, and all he would say is "it was amazing, I tripped balls... but it was the most terrifying experience of my life also." Both of us now look back on the night with regret, both of us wish we could wipe the bad trip from our memories, but unfortunatly something as traumatic as that gets burned into your memory like your home phone number. Its truely, and painfully so, unforgetable.
Moral(s) of the story??? Always trust your best judgement Never trip when sleep deprived No matter how bad a trip gets, its never bad enough to call 911. 4 hours of bad tripping may seem like an eternity, but a trip is never to bad to weather, so long as you have the willpower and strength of mind to keep yourself calm.
Just some friendly advice.... and Id implore you to follow it, because bad trips f**king suck. Yea so, untill next time!
SAFE + HAPPY TRIPPING EVERYONE!!!!
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