Hey guys, I posted this somewhere else and I literally got no response at all, which I found a bit disheartening, but this is a much better community and maybe someone here can help me out. Here it is
Hey guys, I just kind of need a bit of advice. I am about to be 20, I started using psychedelics and several hard drugs at around age 13 so obviously I was irresponsible and it all ended in addiction and a bunch of other unrelated stuff, but here is where the story starts. When I was 16 I ate about 2-2.5 grams of mushrooms on the worst possible day, everything went wrong.
I had planned the trip with my best friend at the time, we were going to go over to our friends house because was going to give us some shrooms, after we got the shrooms we were going to go back to his moms little ass apartment and chill out in his room and trip all day, it was going to be a good day for his first trip, or so we thought.
That morning I got a call from my mom telling me one of the family dogs died, miss nibbles, she was a English bulldog mix and was an awesome, fat, lazy friendly dog. I didn't live with my parents anymore, was staying out of state at my grandparents on and off at the time, bouncing from one shitty dope house to the next, then back to my grandparents (I love them so much for being so supportive of me through that time period, I would have died without them). After hearing that Nibbs had died, I was extremely sad, but I didn't want to ruin my friends day and it was my only chance to get shrooms for a while (Even though I could have just held onto them instead of being a dumbass and ignoring set and setting).
So my friend shows up and we smoke down and hang out for a bit, getting prepared for a day of fun. We head over to the shroomy friends house and eat the shrooms as soon as they arrive. So at that point we're like, okay, now we have to get back to my friends house, so He and I get my grandmother to give us a ride out there.
So we are both coming up in shamrocks room, I'm actually having fun at this point, I'm smiley and giggly and pretty damn excited for the trip to come, it's been over a year since I was able to find a psychedelic and I had already had one great experience with shrooms at the time, I was ready for the next despite nibbs dying, it would be a great day regardless. But My friend (Let's call him shamrock, should have done this earlier but didn't know I would be writing out a full report when I started this, but now it just kind of wants to come out), was having a very rough come-up. He had done lsd once before, but it was nowhere near a good dose and gave him tracers at the most. Shamrock looks at me and says that he doesn't feel right, that it's really intense and he doesn't know if he can handle it. So this right there just shits on my zen. He begins to cry and proceeds to get up and go into the living room, and tells his mom that he is on mushrooms.
She tells him she is disappointed but doesn't yell at him or anything, but is a generally awkward and fucked up situation for me to be in. I'm just standing there while this kid tells his mom that he is tripping on mushrooms and not having a good time. After all that settles down, and we go back into his room, I'm really starting to come up, and shit is getting vibrant. Now to part two, where the bad trip really starts.
Shamrock gets a call from his girlfriend at the time, who hated me but was really fake about it. Next thing I know, he gets off the phone and tells me that we're going over there and that her uncle eric is coming to pick us up. Her uncle eric ends up being my godfather... So we get in the car with him and start on our way to her house. I look at eric, and tell him "I'm tripping hard on a couple grams of shrooms right now", and he looks at me, laughs and tells me right on.
Even after that though, I was beginning to feel very uncomfortable. The road was flying up off the road(if that makes any sense) and I was tripping really hard, on a way to someones house that didn't like me but would still smile and act like we were friends or something, just for her boyfriend. I am running short on time so I am going to wrap this up. Her mom, dad and brothers were there, even though they smoked pot and were cool, they were still her family and they all made me uncomfortable, it was horrible being on a strong trip and being around a bunch of people you don't really know or like.
This is when stuff gets really messed up. I started peaking and while I was outside smoking a cigarette looking into the distance (farmland), everything turned black and white and I was gripped with a terrible anxiety. I forgot who I was, my own name, who my parents were and what parents were, who my grandparents were, I was convinced that there was nothing before the trip but the trip, nothing now but the trip, and that the future was always going to be like this, like it always had been. I had voices in my head scream "This is insanity" and "This is eternity" (were they my own thoughts and just sounded different?), and then I went inside to calm down and sit down. I started watching american dad, and I'm not sure if I hallucinated it or it was just something he really said, but Stan, the main character, said "I'm going to take two days off this weekend and go murder your whole family", and after that scenes on the tv just ket repeating themselves and rewinding over and over and over again, endlessly. At one point the TV screen went silver and a face materialized out of it and shouted in the deepest most crazy voice, "This isn't fun is it?" in a very angry voice.
After all that I decided I don't even care, I'm getting out of here, and called my grandmother. Shamrock and his girlfriend had pretty much posted up in her room, and they were both on their bed which was really small, they said I could sit with them but I felt really uncomfortable propping myself up on the edge of a bed. Shamrock ended up having quite a lot of fun that day in the end, but not I. My grandma showed up and I got in her van and told her that I was having a really horrible trip on mushrooms, and had to be reassured that she was taking me home, and not to the hospital where I thought she was going to take me, or the cops, for some reason (she would never do that). So she ends up telling me I'm a bad influence on my friend (even though he is the one who bought them) and we get back to the house.
I go upstairs and for some reason take my pants off and start walking around the top floor of the house, nobody ever went up there so I didn't care at the time. the walls were flashing so hard that I thought that there was an ambulance and cop cars outside, so I paced back and forth freaking out for a while. After a couple of minutes of freaking out, things got to where just needed to lay down. The walls started flashing at an unbelievable speed and it was like the peak of my first lsd trip, except this one wasn't fun at all and it was terrifying. I remember there was one thing in the room that kept me anchored to reality, and it was the fact that I could read the words on my fan, "Weatherworks", and repeating the name over and over again helped get me through the craziness. After that bit of laying in bed peaking my hardest, the intensity of everything suddenly dropped down by a huge amount, and I started having fun again! I went in the mirror and just observed myself and loved myself, having fun with the rest of the trip I had left.
Now I broke every rule in the book and I know exactly why I had a bad trip, it's pretty damn obvious, I must have been the stupidest kid in the world, but I guess mistakes are part of being young. I am now in a completely different place in life, I have been clean from hard drugs for a year and a half almost, ever since I started taking psychedelics again. They have healed me in a lot of ways that I really can't describe, but mainly, they have helped me mature exponentially, and they have given me motivation to not be lazy and get my life started, to man up in life and take responsibility. Some of this was self growth, but some of it I truly thank the lsd mostly, and other psyches, specifically the ability to remember my childhood vividly. The thing is everybody, that for some reason I have a problem taking the plunge on a bigger dose. I know everything is different this time, I know I am at a better place in life and I also know that I am capable of handling the experience now because
1.I had a trip on 125 ug lsd where my brother gave me an edible and it ended up being butterscotch. I have been told that I am allergic to butterscotch my whole entire life, and that it would kill me if I ate it (doesn't make any sense). Well, I ate it while on my peak, and even though there was a bit of internal freakout when I learned what it was, eople who weren't tripping panicked more than I did. I kept my cool to the maximum and told myself if I was going to die, I would die having fun, that I would just go with it, there was nothing I could do then until something either happened or didn't happen.
My cousin shot a guy and killed him on complete accident while he was teaching her how to protect herself from an intruder (which would have been her sons dad) a year or two ago, he was a really cool guy who gave me thirteen pairs of barely worn shoes because while I was helping him move, he realized that the only shoes i had were the ratty ones I was wearing. He was her best friend. She has grown very depressed and spiraled more thoroughly into her alcoholism, and doesn't ever stop bringing him up and what he would be doing and all kinds of shit. Well I ended up in her basement where she shot him peaking on 100 ugs of lsd while she talked about how she finally got the blood washed away or the hole he left in the wall boarded it. It was so fucked up and creepy, but I made it through it intact, and had a great time after I left.
I guess guys, my questions are, was my bad trip normal for a bad trip or did I go crazy? I feel like I just screwed up my set and setting astronomically, but I want some opinions on this. I would also like to know how I can talk myself into going higher, because of that experience, even though I've been tripping for a year, I've been low dosing it constantly even though I feel I am ready to finally let go. I know it really just comes down to me just doing it, but maybe I just need a push, some friendly words of advice. I need to figure out how to get the courage to really take the plunge again, I feel like a coward.
This can also apply to my apprehension to take the Changa I have extracted. Thank you guys for reading, if you have, and thank you even more to those who reply
I have read through and edited out a lot of swearing and other prohibited discussion, please forgive me if I missed anything, it is late and I just wanted to get this posted somewhere where people actually give a damn.