		 DOSE:

		 1 hit
		 oral
		 LSD
		 (blotter / tab)

           BODY WEIGHT:
	   115 lb

The Cheshire cat lounged upon my tongue as I waited. A thousand teeth lit up the cavern of my mouth, anticipation speeding through my veins like a rocket. For the fifth time that minute I inspected my stereo. 11:44 AM, it replied, and I imagined its disapproval.

“Kids these days,” it would mutter, stealing a patronizing glance in my direction before leaving my imagination and becoming lifeless once more.

The Cheshire cat yawned. Had it pumped its secrets into my body yet? The stigma against psychedelics intrigued me, and eventually led to this day. I idly traced random shapes upon my living room coffee table, waiting for the trip to take me away. Hallucinogens don’t just happen- I let the tab sit on my tongue, and then I wait. And wait. And wait.

Impatience ripped at my throat, a strange viper that showed no mercy. Defensively, I rose from the couch and paced around the room, fumbling at my cell phone, glancing at the piano, now the bookshelf, now the TV, attempting to trigger whatever this experience would turn out to be. How much longer? My mind and body were upset with me. They wanted a release.

My eyes trailed to the Oriental rug. Burgundy, honey colored rings and wavy lines danced across its length. Isn’t it insane how our brain gives us the ability to distinguish these patterns? And what exactly are patterns anyways? My mind was lost in thought while my eyes danced along the fabric. This is just a photograph of life itself, I mused, like how I get fucked over, again and again and again. The brown and reddish lines were swimming in the larger pools of the cream colored background. For a second, I had the weirdest urge to jump into the carpet and surf along the shores of the fractals I saw. After weeks of what was the bastard child of agony and numbness, I felt connected. And god damn did it feel GOOD. I let out a sigh of relief which echoed electrically through the currents of my body. Energy. I had to move. I broke my trance with the rug and rose from the living room floor- I hadn’t even realized I sat myself down. I traversed to the kitchen, and there, in all its glory, lay my iPod.

Why weren’t you listening to music before? My mind ventured, irritated.

Milliseconds later, my headphones were on, and Radiohead was blasting through my skull in a dazzle of alien time signatures and chords that have yet to be named. Normally, I wouldn’t listen to Radiohead- I couldn’t understand their music and thought it was overly obscure. And there I was, staring into space listening to the ambience penetrating my eardrums. It smashed into me like a brick wall. The jigsaw fell into place out of absolutely nowhere. While I normally had no sense of rhythm, beats were beginning to reveal themselves to me and the strangeness became oddly clear; music was redefining itself.

“Wow,” I whispered, and it was in this stretched out moment that the world opened her dreamy eyes and let me in. Having remembered the ever-sleepy Cheshire cat, I opened my mouth-cavern and pried the feline off my tongue. I couldn’t help but stare at the now faded contour that made up its face. Just like in Alice in Wonderland, its body was nearing invisibility, while its infinite grin tore through my field of vision. 'Couldn’t you have given me five more minutes?' The teeth didn’t move, but the cat seemed aggravated- the disappearing curves and lines were writhing around like wet noodles. It disturbed me, so I tossed the tab into the garbage, cat and all. “Well, that takes care of that.” It’s extremely unnerving to have inanimate objects be unhappy with you, so I left the kitchen, returning to the living room in search of adventures.

The rug was literally throwing a dance party- I could see every thread and seam moving in unison with each other, swaying to my music.

'How can you hear my music from all the way down there?' I was mystified.

“It’s because you are one in the same with the rest of existence, and you never bothered to realize that,” Life responded nonchalantly.

“It’s because you are one in the same with the rest of existence, and you never bothered to realize that,” Life responded nonchalantly.

 If reality was truly based on perspective and perspective only, life had a point- everything around me was changing its shape based solely on what I was hearing. The wooden panels of my floor resembled nighttime on the fourth of July- the warped oak was expanding, contracting and wiggling around, and within the crazed orgy of movement I could discern faces that had no distinct features other than the emotions they conveyed- that one was happy, this one afraid, that one surprised- there were millions of them. And though they all were so different, they were the same. I had once again managed to sink to the floor, a fluid motion that felt like an elongated second. Once down, the floor became a cloud and the faces floated around me. I couldn’t feel myself sitting, which was odd, because I knew I was.

<pullquote>“This is…so weird.”

Did I just say that, or did I simply think it? I couldn’t tell</pullquote>, because Radiohead was set on grabbing my attention. My hands rose, and I began to conduct. Every swish and hand movement felt like a tectonic plate moving across millions of miles. The wooden faces danced to my conducting, changing their emotions and expressions every beat. I was a maestro. The synthesized music was reaching a climax and my head was rushing like a coaster in mid-drop. My hands became blurs, leaving salmon pink trails behind them every time I moved. Like comets. A benign pit in my stomach lifted me upwards, begging me to move. I couldn’t resist. Why would I refuse? and walked straight to my front door. My hand reached for the doorknob, its cold metal touch seeped through my skin, shooting through my body like an icicle. I was a snowman, but I could move. The door opened, my feet moved forward (though I couldn’t feel them) and the world was reborn.

A bright, white light shredded my retinas, but I wasn’t blinded- I was seeing life for the first time. When the white smoke cleared, the colors that emerged sent me spiraling into a thousand thoughts that had no beginning, end or middle. Although late December was generally dreary in the Northeast, today…today was breath-taking. The strip of forest across the street was glowing, the bark much more purple than the brown it was supposed to be. Rather than seeing every tree as an individual, I saw them as a unified entity- they were melting to the ground while simultaneously shooting upwards. Mesmerized, I hadn’t even remembered to put my coat on and descended the stairs, zombie-like, towards the trees. The magenta branches were waving at me, holding hands, dancing underneath a sky that was burning sapphire. They were beckoning, calling my name, and it rustled through the wind which blew through my face.

“Come to us,” they called, in a voice that was not verbal- it was too ancient to be auditory, for the trees were so very old and did not have the ability to speak. It was…telepathic.

'How long have these trees been here for?' My mind asked me.

“Who knows?” I responded, walking across the asphalt street which looked more like a stormy sea of blackness. “You think these trees are old? You do realize that there are redwoods that were born centuries ago? You can’t even begin to perceive a grain of time.”

The trees were now in front of me, tall and looming. I walked beside them, without any particular destination in mind. I was too involved in my surroundings…but why? What did this mean? Why was I so transfixed on these trees? This asphalt? I still couldn’t feel my feet, but I sensed the movement. My mind was trailing into millions of directions at once, and at some random moment it hit me.

I am being watched.

This thought invaded every fiber of my being instantaneously, without any warning. It reminded me of those times when I was a child, when I’d face one direction in my sleep, petrified that a monster was about to rip my head off from behind me. But I didn’t have eyes in the back of my skull, so it could happen at any minute. And I knew it would- I felt its eyes searing through my spine, eyeing my body like fresh meat.

“This is ridiculous,” I muttered. Was my voice shaking? Why? Why? My mind was chattering and I longed for it to shut up.

I’MBEINGFOLLOWEDRUNAWAYI’MBEINGFOLLOWED.

The feeling hit me once more like a thousand knives. IT’S GOING TO EAT ME AND GOBBLE ME UP. I jumped, whirled around, and came face to face with no one. I could have SWORN someone was behind me. What’s going on? Why is this happening? I didn’t like these feelings.

I jumped, whirled around, and came face to face with no one. I could have SWORN someone was behind me. What’s going on? Why is this happening? I didn’t like these feelings.

 Uneasiness was now joining this new found paranoia and as I turned to seek comfort in the branches of the forest, uneasiness turned into pure fear. The branches that were purple just seconds before had become dark brown bramble and thorns dripping a black substance that oozed out of the pores of the bark. The thorns rose from the forest floor and were reaching out, reaching AT me, trying to grab me- each thorn was a spike that splintered off into a thousand other little thorns. They didn’t have mouths, and yet their mouths were foaming. They were after me. I heard myself losing control and screamed. Had I been rational, I would have realized just how loud I was. And the trees spoke to me.

“Poor little girl, got yourself lost in Oz, have you?” it was the most malicious voice. It enjoyed my pain, it enjoyed my suffering. It wanted me to be afraid, and it wanted to get me. It fooled me into thinking it was behind me but GOD no it was NEXT TO ME. Oh my GOD. I felt fear physically for the first time- boiling lead poured down my mouth, my throat and spread into my esophagus tingling every nerve it could find. It controlled me and I tried to run, the world around me losing color by the second, becoming more and more alien. I ran, crossing streets, and roads, how fucked up I must have seemed, how so very crazy and manic. The trees were behind me, laughing, screaming and pointing their oozing, broken fingers at me.

“COWARD! COWARD! COWARD!” their words hit me like bullets and panic was holding me down. I wanted to fall into the pavement (which now seemed translucent and blue) and hide. But I kept going. Before I knew it, my phone was in my hand, and I was struggling to remember numbers.

“What are numbers? WHAT ARE THEY?” Mind shrieked, and the touch-screen was swirling with pixels that I couldn’t understand. After mindlessly punching in random digits and tearing my headphones off, I somehow managed to dial my friend, Karen. The phone was ringing, but to me it sounded like a blaring horn, blazing at a million decibels. I was still walking, though my legs now felt like pieces of steel. I was molasses, and I could barely move. As the horn ravaged my ear, I was nearing the a local Pond.

“It’s…the best place…the safe place. It’ll be better. Right…? Right?” I couldn’t answer my minds whimpering, because I didn’t know. I didn’t know ANYTHING. I was a fool, and I was weak. I was a single human being, a human being plagued by madness and panic.

“Hello?” Karen’s voice drifted from the metal pressed against my face into my head.

Help me. I’m having a bad trip on acid. Help.” I babbled pathetically. My voice sounded robotic- it wasn’t my voice. I was losing my sense of identity…that wasn’t my voice.

“THAT’S NOT MY VOICE” my mind was nearly wetting itself. But it wasn’t my mind anymore.

“You’re what?! Try and calm down. It’s just a drug.”

“HOW CAN YOU SAY IT’S JUST A DRUG?” I shrieked, and a couple birds flew out of a tree nearby. Their beaks dripping blood, and their faces were skeletal, burning through me with gazes that sent the urge to vomit straight through my system.

“…Calm down. You’re overreacting. Where are you?”

I couldn’t even respond. My throat was closed, closed by adrenaline, sewn shut by the fractals that were dancing through my peripheral vision. I didn’t want to answer her because:

“She’s in on it. This is a scheme.” Mind said to me, and each word it spoke sent another jab of panic down my spine. “They’re all in on it. They want me to go crazy. Every single one of them. I’m fucked up. I’m dead. GAME OVER”

My phone slammed to the ground and I followed. I saw a girl lying on the pavement by the pond. Contracted into the fetal position, rocking back and forth like a boat in a storm. Muttering gibberish. Was this me? Suddenly, I lost sense of existence. I was staring out into the world, but I couldn’t comprehend what that was. I just saw colors, lines and shapes. I didn’t know I was lying on the street, and I didn’t know what I was. I didn’t know I. I blinked, blinked and blink, and then every negative emotion and every positive emotion ever created rushed deep inside my brain and exploded there. If I was able to comprehend physicality, I would have screamed, but I just lay there, mental shrieks bouncing off my brain and into the nothingess of my minds oblivion. It was the loudest mute sound I had ever heard and it was tearing my insides apart. My organs melted and oozed out of my body. I took the damage. I was no longer seeing the physical world. I was seeing photographs of my past, but not visual pictures…it was more like a bat’s echolocation. Quick, sharp, blinking visions of rainbows and spectrums that was epileptic by nature. They spoke to me.

'Who are you?'

I…I don’t know, I replied. All I could think about was how pathetic I was, and how broken and crazed.

'Why don’t you know?' The rainbows pulsated whenever they spoke, the colors shifting and changing with no actual order. They understood that patterns were simply figments of a humans need to comprehend the world around them.

Be…cause nothing actually makes sense. That’s why. I’m crazy. And hated.

The rainbows grumbled. They didn’t care for human emotions, for they had transcended that.

'You shouldn’t be here.'

Those words stung like the black ooze that poisoned the evil trees from hours ago. No. I shouldn’t be here. Then the bile came like a flood, and I vomited. Again, I had no vision, but I could feel the panic and absolute fear pouring out of my body with the fluids torrentially. It was never ending, and the rainbows simply observed.

What did it matter if I was dying? I asked of them. Does it really matter? I’m one fucked up human being, and I’ll be dead in minutes…the world is so unified, so BIG, and I know that you will go on and the world will be alright…isn’t that all that matters?

The rainbows continued to exist, not answering me. Shadows without origin or fire leapt to and fro, adding dimensions to the colors. I remembered the trees again, and my self-loathing contradicted my feelings of unity with the world. I was a self-loathing martyr. My ego would die, and so would my body…but the world would go on, with one less screw-up…one less me.

The rainbows faded, and I gained my sense of my physical surroundings. Panic still controlled me, regardless of the serenity the rainbows emanated- their tranquility was NOT for me, and my madness was growing like a tumor.

“Go home. NOW.” Intoxicated by emotion, I grabbed my phone, unaware of the fourteen missed calls from Karen and began to walk from the way I came. The road beneath me stretched like a rubberband and it didn’t end. It kept going…on…and on…my legs started running but the road wouldn’t end. This was a nightmare. My mind was shrieking again, shrieking at this abomination, why the HELL were the laws of physics breaking down?

This was a nightmare. My mind was shrieking again, shrieking at this abomination, why the HELL were the laws of physics breaking down?

 The road was sucking me under and I struggled to keep my head above the current. The asphalt was reaching out, calling my name like those god damn trees. It wasn’t going to end. This road is infinite. My heart was beating faster than 500 beats a second and I was losing my mind. I am a fool. I am pathetic. This road was my punishment.

Millennia later, my house (resembling an amalgamation of shapes) came into view.

It’s going to feel better…once I go inside. The doctor inside to me lied. I braved the stairs, glancing back into the strip of trees that destroyed me at the beginning of this nightmare and entered my house. It all seemed so different from this morning, but I couldn’t comprehend my surroundings very well. The world was spinning not unlike a carousel and I stumbled to the bathroom to continue my vomit fest. The bathroom tiles were no longer just in the wall- they were moving in and out of their natural places, almost 3D, while others seemed invisible. The square tiles on the floor were becoming circular. I was melting into them. The toilet chuckled and I lost whatever sanity I had left.

Screaming, I ran into my room, bundling myself in my green comforter, only to be greeted by thousands of spiders that crawled on me, in me, and into my skin. I was dying. This was fear at its worst and I was losing my mind. Foaming at the mouth. This had to be over soon, right? Right? Then I’ll be okay…I won’t be crazy anymore, right, Doc? Right? Frantically, I looked across the room to my clock on the wall. Everything was buzzing a deep red, angry, infuriated, and evil. It wanted to end me.

The clock read 12:30 PM.

45 minutes had gone by,

and I had eight hours to go.

The LSD had no intentions of stopping.

Exp Year: 2010	ExpID: 88579

Gender: Female

Age at time of experience: 19

Published: Jun 6, 2018	Views: 8,825

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LSD (2) : Alone (16), Entities / Beings (37), Music Discussion (22), Bad Trips (6), Difficult Experiences (5), General (1)


		 DOSE:

		 oral
		 LSD
		 (liquid)

		 oral
		 MDMA
		 (powder / crystals)

           BODY WEIGHT:
	   175 lb

Allow me to share a recent experience that was unexpected but illuminating and mostly fun. The short version of the story is that I tripped harder on acid than ever before, and that's saying something considering I've taken LSD at least a hundred times, probably two hundred or more (so many I've lost count).

My wife (A) and I had planned to go to a small outdoor music festival a couple of hours from home for a night and a day. I bought beer and food, loaded the cooler, and we headed out when she got off work early in the afternoon. Our plans changed, though, because three or four friends that had been interested in riding along or meeting up with us at the festival all backed out. We were about 45 minutes from the festival, just starting to lose cell reception, when a friend that lived in the town we had just passed called. Long story short, we decided to bail on the festival and go hang out with W at his place and trip.

We met up and discussed the plan. A and I decided to take acid (W had some really good liquid) and a little bit of MDMA. Before dosing we all went to dinner at a brewpub and had a couple of beers. We arrived back at W's house around 8 and put the plan in motion. W is usually in possession of some really exceptional acid, stuff that is several times more concentrated than even the (still pretty good) acid I'm used to getting.

T + 0: A took a drop from the nearly-empty vial, and I could only get about a half drop out. I definitely wanted to take at least a whole dose, so partly at W's suggestion I filled the vial with fruit juice and drank the rest of the liquid. I can't remember if it didn't occur to me that doing so would yield a dose of at least five or six hits of the strongest acid I've tried (which is probably equivalent to twenty or so hits of the kind of acid I usually eat), or if I consciously decided that taking a lot would be fine even though I hadn't planned to. Usually I am meticulous about dosing, even if I plan to eat a fair amount. On this occasion, I had a go-with-the-flow, 'whatever' kind of attitude about it. Immediately after dosing I also took a pinky fingertip worth of molly (probably about 100mg).

What happened next is unusual. Typically the hour or so after dosing is spent with an increasing waking energy, but on this occasion I went nearly immediately to sleep. I had been physically tired leading up to dosing and I think this contributed. I think also the dose was so high that it put me very quickly into a trance state. I remember only being awake a few minutes before passing out hard (T + 00:05). At this point all time reference points are approximate.

I drifted in and out of sleep for maybe an hour. At one point I woke up long enough to hear W make a joking comment like, 'A, your husband is weird, he takes drugs and then goes to sleep.' For a while A and W watched TV  while I descended deeper into a trance. At some point they made some azurescens tea with about an eight of mushrooms. They split it equally but I only drank about three sips so I don't think it contributed much to my trip. At some point I slipped into a combined state of ego death and dreaming. I was taken far from my normal sense of self at times.

T + 03:00. For a while I traveled through a sequence of personifications, experiencing existence as other people I knew or knew of. This phase was quite interesting because it gave me a great deal of insight into why people behave as they do. I felt I was being shown the essential set of personality traits in each person and their most basic motivations and purposes. The experience was very immersive - I felt myself a part of these other people in a way that is difficult to explain. My ego was being broken down thoroughly, but for some reason I was not searching for reference points of self, rather I was content to exist as others for a little while. I was travelling through a +++ and towards a ++++.

T + 4:00. At some point this series of incarnations made me have strong realizations about myself and my own essential identity and character. I realized that deep down I am a diplomat and peacemaker, someone uniquely capable of helping draw boundaries in personal relationships and mediating between others in their conflicts or catalyzing their fruitful interaction. These realizations built to a near orgasm of life insight - I felt I was being shown a vision of the rest of my life.

I felt I was being shown a vision of the rest of my life.

 Involved with this vision was an overwhelming feeling that something tremendous had happened, that the normal laws of reality had been suspended. I remember having the idea, at one point, that I had been given the choice to die but had decided to remain alive, and that for this to happen time had stopped and some supernatural force had interceded (enter a ++++ state).

The idea of death was not entirely a fabrication of my brain. I was tripping hard enough that I no longer had a sense of having ingested a drug, but I knew on some level that a drug had been involved. At one point I could feel my heart beating extremely fast (what felt like close to 200 beats a minute) and for a couple or a few minutes I had the idea that I was overloading. Strangely enough there was no anxiety or fear attached to this notion. I simply lay back calmly, submitting to whatever would happen. I started to sweat profusely.

T + 4:30. Around this time I started to trip hard enough that I was periodically blacking out. In fact I can only remember about five or ten minutes of the period between 10pm and 2am. I had tripped this hard once or twice before (on ayahuasca) but never on acid, even though I really like to eat acid. This is where things started to get a little strange. When I had fallen asleep/gone into a trance I had started to dream. Then when I woke up tripping my nuts off, my mind conflated my dream world and my normal waking reality. As part of the spiritual experience and sense of near-death and suspension of time, I became convinced that a somewhat fantastic reality would soon come true, and that in order to facilitate it I had to convince someone (mainly my wife) of some of these things.

The dream reality is hard to describe because it involves so many seemingly random people and events in my life pieced into a narrative that (at the time) seemed perfectly sensible. A few highlights are worth repeating, though. A major theme was the first girl I fell in love with, call her B. I was convinced, among other things, that (even though we had a falling out a while back and haven't spoken since) that at some point soon (whether that night or in the coming days) she would show up with a large amount (like a kilo) of cocaine (?!) and we would all get high and have good sex. A male friend that shared the same name also featured - I thought he, too, would soon show up with cocaine. Even though this friend (B2) and another (D) were at the festival we had planned to go to, I became certain that they would show up at any moment, even though they had never been to the house where we were staying. I was so convinced I even called D's name several times at different points, leaving A and W to wonder exactly what was going on in my head. For about an hour I was narrating this sexual-and-drug-fantasy-tinged dream to my wife as I floated in and out of a deep trance state.

This situation was slightly embarrassing of course but my wife wasn't very upset because she knew I was not my normal self. For a little while, when I started to sweat and rant, A (wife) was slightly worried about me and whether I had suffered some kind of mental break. W, who has more experience with people being extremely high, reassured her that there was nothing to worry about. And, really, there wasn't. I was extremely high, but not in any distress.

I was extremely high, but not in any distress.

 It was good that I had experienced sitters around because I might had tried something silly (not necessarily harmful but just troublesome). It was a good example of the importance of not creating fear with someone who is deeply altered. My wife cold have reacted angrily or with stern questions and concern, and this probably would have put me into a bad state of mind. But instead, she listened with kindness and put her hands on my arm and just waited for me to return to normal, which I did before long.

T + 5. Eventually the dream state ended and I settle back into a more normal sense of reality, albeit still tripping harder than in a long time. The visuals were extreme, often covering my field in vision in multiple layers so that I could barely make sense of what I was looking at. We went out for a few minutes of fresh air and the sky was amazing. The stars looked far brighter than normal and all looked interconnected.

From about T + 6 to T + 10 I lay in bed with A, physically nearly exhausted an on the verge of sleep but kept awake by a still active mind. When we all arose around 8am each of us could tell the others were still powerfully affected. We each drank a bloody mary, had some breakfast, and went back to sleep for several hours.

I woke up (T+16) STILL tripping fairly hard. The visuals were no longer overwhelming but were definitely present and I still felt somewhat disoriented. We went for an hour hike and when I got back to W's house I still did not feel normal but had no qualms about driving.

The drive home was uneventful (mostly easy highway miles). When we got to the outskirts of our city I decided to take a new route to get to our house from the interstate. At one point I missed a turn and ended up driving around in a big loop in unfamiliar territory for twenty minutes. I thought to myself 'am I still tripping?' but soon made it back to the usual road without much trouble.

Upon arriving home I spilled onto the couch in my basement in front of my stereo and passed out almost immediately. I was quite wiped out from the intensity of the experience, and slept from 8pm until about 11am the next day. After a good night's rest I was able to make sense out of what happened (the strange dream-reality overlay) though at the time it had caught me off guard.

I have no regrets about the experience even though I had not intended to trip that hard. It was actually pretty fun, and I learned a lot about myself. I probably won't trip that hard again in the near future, but I plan to keep taking LSD with moderate regularity as I have for the last four or five years. That said, though, pay careful attention to your dosages. Psychedelics are powerful, and I am certain that a less experienced person or a person without as comforting a setting could have had a bad trip and suffered lasting trauma.

Be careful and respectful, but seek knowledge! Peace...

Exp Year: 2010	ExpID: 86266

Gender: Male

Age at time of experience: 28

Published: Jun 14, 2018	Views: 6,663

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LSD (2), MDMA (3) : Guides / Sitters (39), General (1), Small Group (2-9) (17)


		 DOSE:

		 smoked
		 Cannabis

		 1 hit
		 oral
		 LSD
		 (blotter / tab)

           BODY WEIGHT:
	   155 lb

This is a report of my most profound psychedelic experience. I recorded as much of it as I could in my journal the day after it happened so that I wouldn’t forget any of the finer details.

As most people reading this already know, words don’t really capture the real significance of a powerful psychedelic trip, but writing it out really helped me process what I saw and felt and the post-trip confusion that’s made it so hard for me to leave this experience in the past.

Set:

After an exhausting first year at college, I was more than ready to unwind for the summer. It had been a great year, but towards the end of it I felt like I desperately needed to escape the chaos of campus life. Unfortunately, things were just as chaotic back home. My friends were getting into legal trouble and my folks were going through some kind of mid-life crisis, so I bought a train ticket with what little money I had and went to live with one of my closest friends.

About a month before school, I moved back to campus to live in my fraternity house with a couple of brothers that had stayed for the summer. It was a very empowering place; seven of us had the whole two-building compound to ourselves until fall. I was having a great time when I first arrived, but in the back of my mind I knew that the fun wouldn’t last forever. I was spending way too much money on weed, my relationship with my family was terrible, and the shitty campus job I had was barely supporting me. All of that on top of the fact that I wasn’t at all prepared for the school year? I was digging my own grave. But things just didn’t seem... serious. That was definitely about to change.

July 5th: Night of the Trip (Setting)

Independence Day was brutally fun. When the next day rolled around only a few guests, some beer cans, and a beautifully pungent American pride remained in our courtyard. I woke up just before sunset to the sound of fireworks launching into the sky like the bombs that inspired the Star Spangled Banner. While I smoked away my hangover on the roof and thought about what to do with the long night that lay ahead, a strange and yet all too familiar feeling took hold of me, and maybe instinctively, I knew it was time to trip again.

This is where shit gets weird. One of my more interesting frat brothers (I’ll call him Carter) approached me not an hour later with an offer to trip if I could pay for three tabs of acid. This was really strange given that we weren’t very close and I hadn’t hit anybody up yet. Meant to be, or mere coincidence? I’m not so sure, but needless to say I accepted his offer. By now the stars were coming out and the frat was mostly empty. It was a clear, calm night.

We’d be giving the third tab to a brother I’ll call Mikey. It would be his first time tripping. Together, Carter and Mikey formed a duo that was both feared and loved throughout our small Greek community for the crazy shit they would pull at parties. They were filth at its finest; it would undoubtedly be a trip to remember.

Trip Report

We dropped the tabs in Carter’s apartment directly across the street from the frat around 9:30 PM. I was somewhat skeptical of the whole situation. I actually snuck my tab off my tongue after about ten seconds, hid it in my sock, and eventually ended up committing and swallowing the whole thing. Small white blotter. No taste. We did not test it, so I can only assume that it was LSD. There were no other drugs in my system other than THC and alcohol.

At 10:30, I could literally feel the come up in my bones. Colors were a little more saturated, my perception was remarkably clear, and I had a gut feeling similar to the one I get when I’m locked in and slowly ascending the first hill of a roller coaster. Things were moving smooth and predictably except for a slightly delayed onset, so the three of us giggled our way back over to the frat in a quest for some joint cones.

By the time we arrived at the back door, my depth perception was all kinds of fucked up. We tried to play some basketball but the hoops were suddenly twenty feet tall and swaying like palm trees in the wind. My peripherals were very wide; I could extend both arms all the way out on either side, look forward, and still see my hands. There was also some faint color pulsating.

Out of nowhere, a powerful rush started to wash over my body and the stereotypical “I took too much” moment was suddenly upon me. Without saying a word to my tripmates, I decided to go inside and lie down. In hindsight, I should have just said something and stayed with my dudes, because this is where things took a sharp turn for the worse.

I entered the nearest room to find my fraternal big brother (mentor) and his friend smoking and drinking beers on the couch. The room is dark except for a few candles and the harsh light of the TV. The various bongs, bottles, and fast food on the coffee table had multiplied into a sprawling city (not a metaphor, literally a city) of glass and paper that seemed to emphasize how much I smoke weed and eat junk food. I laid on the bed in the corner of the room and stared at the television in horror as Joe Dirt’s mullet became a cascading waterfall of smaller and smaller Joe Dirt faces. It was my first time watching the movie, and needless to say, it made absolutely no fucking sense. At this point I had become an alien in a human’s body, so I tried to fit in with the other people in the room by laughing when they laughed too, but it only made them more suspicious of my true identity.

As my body began to tense up and sweat, a few dudes from down the block came in and bought some weed. I hallucinated a caravan of maybe twenty strangers that had come with them to make fun of me for being so fucked up; they all stood around my bed and laughed at my discomfort.

My mind started to spiral into psychedelic insanity as I realized too late that the fraternity might not have been the most stable place to do this shit. It’s typically a comfortable environment for me but the lack of privacy and slightly occult atmosphere were quickly becoming overbearing. I closed my eyes in an attempt to calm down and was greeted by swirling geometrics and pulsing white lights so bright they should have blinded me.

I opened my eyes to find that the walls of the room had completely disappeared into an inky black, endless darkness. The ceiling, now freed of the constraints of walls, stretched high above my head at odd angles where it typically lay flat. It looked and felt like I was in a completely new place. “Left” and “right” nauseatingly merged into a single, impossible direction, but I could still somewhat distinguish between up and down.

I eventually forced myself out of bed and went to my own room. After changing out of my sweat soaked clothes, I checked my phone. It was only 11:45. My body was doing okay but my mind wanted this chemical gone. I went outside and projectile vomited what appeared to be toxic green slime. With my tripmates nowhere in sight, I was forced to surrender to the house once more and decided to lay down in an empty room. I must have been delusional at this point, because my goal was to just... go to sleep. I turned off the lights and laid flat on my back, alone.

I don’t really know what happened next. I think I passed out and had a kind of fever dream of a tall red figure asking me if I was ready to die. Some of my friends think this was Satan, but I don’t think so; the figure didn’t come across as menacing. When I chose to return to Earth, I almost immediately woke up. I checked the time again. 12:00 AM.

The trip definitely switched gears after that. I knew there were a few bad vibes to overcome, but I was suddenly much more comfortable in my intoxication given that I’d literally just defeated death. How much worse could it get?

I crept back to my big’s room and found him alone and passed out drunk. Rick and Morty provided the only light in the room. I sat on the couch and became transfixed by the implications of modern entertainment, the show’s trippy themes and tense dialogue quickly plunging me back into madness. At this point I figured the bad trip would never end and that I’d been banished to some form of chemical Hell. Just as I accepted my fate, around 12:15 or so, Carter and Mikey burst into the room.

Carter saw what was happening and pulled me off the couch, the two of them surprisingly calm and collected. I didn’t get the impression that they were tripping as hard as me, but they also hadn’t thrown themselves head first into introspective darkness. Instead, they had gone to a nearby river to shoot firework mortars into the sky and had even managed to smoke a few more joints. When I initially chose to go inside and abandon my fellow trippers in favor of solitude, I destined myself for that dark journey. Once we reunited and their playful, energetic presences put me back at ease, I was finally able to succumb to the more positive power of the drug as we wandered the streets like the sweaty, tweaked out acid heads we were.

By 1:30 or so, the three of us had walked a mile or two around town and ended up on top of a parking garage. It was a god damn miracle that I was keeping up with them while we walked, let alone that I was able to navigate and hold a conversation amidst constant warps in what seemed like space and time itself, but my motor skills were totally intact. It was a warm summer night, and I found great solace in the breeze as we looked down on the streets below us.

Mikey was taking it like a champ. He was showing the signs of a typical first timer, occasionally laughing about how crazy we probably seemed to the rest of the world. When I looked in Carter’s eyes, I saw something else entirely. Whatever visited me that night seems to have visited him as well, but it was apparently not his first encounter. This made me wonder; how much control over the trip do we really have? All I was looking for was a light show, yet there I was, unbelievably more fucked up than I had ever been in my entire life. Mikey provided some sobering insight as we hiked back to safety:

“Dude. I get it. I never understood how you could just end up homeless as fuck, wandering around all the time like a lunatic. It makes perfect sense now. Fuck weed, fuck crack… fuck all that shit bro. This is insane. If you got a hold of this stuff and you weren’t ready, what the fuck would it do to you?”

What would it do to you? I have always had good plugs, good friends, and a stable environment to trip in, but all of my experiences with psychedelics paled in comparison to this and it was one of my less risky endeavors.

I have always had good plugs, good friends, and a stable environment to trip in, but all of my experiences with psychedelics paled in comparison to this and it was one of my less risky endeavors.

 You could secretly slip someone a pot brownie for the first time and scare the hell out of them, but what happens when you give someone drugs like this when they’re not ready? Most of the people I know going around looking for “acid” are average partiers just looking for some cool colors, euphoria, and whatever else might be bundled in a lower intensity trip. These people (myself included) are usually looking for more of an MDMA / Molly high, but they don’t know how to describe it effectively, especially if they’ve never taken any kind of psych. It got me thinking about how my brothers and I typically make fun of the old homeless men that wander aimlessly around the city covered in dark and mysterious tattoos, but now the three of us had joined them on their endless march. The only difference was that when we finally couldn’t drag our bodies any further, we had a place to rest until normal life resumed.

We got back to Carter’s apartment just before 2:00 AM. We took refuge in the same room we had started the trip in, but things were much different than when we’d first popped our tabs. Though it was unbelievably dirty and unkempt, Carter’s room provided the three of us the protection we now desperately needed in order to stop thinking about the outside world. Here we had air conditioning, tons of trippy posters to look at, and bean bags on which we could finally let our brutalized bodies rest. At this point I assumed that we’d passed the peak, but it certainly didn’t look like that was the case.

As we all finally relaxed and let the acid do its work, something began to change. Instead of geometric chaos or the usual “breathing,” I saw objects for what they were, yet they were imbued with some indescribable psychedelic power. The room we sat in could have been no bigger than 10x10 feet, but it felt as spacious as an empty ballroom, like I was looking up at a ceiling hundreds of feet above me. The disco lights that spun around us seemed to really be enjoying themselves, and occasionally, they would emit a playful laughter similar to the sound of wind chimes. The posters on the walls did not morph or spasm. Instead, they were buzzing with electric color and pure, radiant beauty, but it was a calm and controlled beauty, almost as if the acid had applied a trippy filter to my everyday vision. When I looked out of the windows, all I saw was an infinite field of stars in every direction. It seemed that the three of us had literally lifted off into space.

The ornamental hookah that towered in the middle of the room shimmered with what I can only refer to as electric rainbows. It was blowing a ridiculous amount of smoke. The clouds we puffed would cascade between our bean bags and pool up on the floor like fog rolling through mountainous valleys thousands of feet below us. My pupils were so wide that it almost hurt, but apparently we had ascended past pain into a place where only orgasmic pleasure existed; it literally felt like I was having a full body orgasm.

The whole thing was very Promethean, like I was experiencing something that humans are usually not allowed to be a part of. It was also very ritualistic. It was as if the Universe had selected me for some kind of honorable cosmic initiation, but this may just be my ego’s way of viewing it. It definitely made me feel like a badass when it struck me that I was probably the first in my family’s bloodline to ever experience this kind of ecstasy, but the term “badass” falls short of what I felt to be the absolute epitome of cool. I had tapped into the galactic heart of eternal youth and it filled me with a power that I still have absolutely no words for. Lightning literally shot forth from the heavens and struck me with envy, for I had somehow stumbled upon God’s power without believing in God or even knowing that such a thing was possible. (I’m trembling as I wright this.) The energy around us was so palpable that I honestly thought a sober person might walk in and scream in horror at the crazy shit that was going down, when in reality they would have seen no more than three stoners on some bean bags. Crazy shit, man.

At one point I felt like our brains were merging into a single unit through some kind of sexual mind-mechanism. A beam of pure energy shot through my skull like a beacon in the night that I could have sworn was visible for miles! Had we left the house to find crowds of cheering people congratulating us on winning life, I would not have been surprised.

I did my best to just let it all happen. The three of us didn’t say much for an hour or so but the emotion in the room was palpable and plain in our bewildered facial expressions. Carter handed me a Mountain Dew, and as my hand touched the can and connected the two of us for but a brief moment, the entire room became submerged in a bubbly green liquid. Other than some accents of pink here and there, literally everything in the room turned a brilliant green. Carter’s long, wavy hair began to float as if we were really underwater. This was by far one of the most incredible things I’ve ever witnessed. It was more than just a lucid hallucination... His hair was really floating, his tattoos impossibly meaningful hieroglyphics. He radiated cosmic power.

I was fucking awestruck. Behind Carter, through a veil of soda bubbles, I could see that we were still in space. I wanted to get up and stick my head out of the window to see how far we’d gone, but I was far too overwhelmed to move. Lightning struck again, this time bringing with it a shower of candy, the kind you’d see in a children’s cartoon. The little candies danced around me, twirling the fog of the hookah in their wake, each cloud now glowing neon blue. Youth seemed to be an important motif behind this part of the trip, and in an ironic way, it felt like what was left of my innocence was being utterly obliterated by witnessing such fantastic magic.

Ever since the moment we’d returned from our excursion to the parking garage, two gigantic speakers had been pumping out an intense mix of hyper-charged EDM that seemed to propel us higher and higher with every beat. It was an impossibly energetic music that seemed to pair perfectly with the carnival of colors that swirled around me, hypnotizing me. I thought about how electronic music might be the perfect psychedelic soundtrack for the modern tripper with its never-ending, constantly evolving sound. At least, it was perfect for the three of us.

Time melted away and for what seemed to be an eternity, we sat in that room, the rest of the city fast asleep as we soared to unimaginable heights. By the time the sun was rising, around probably 6:00 AM, Mikey had gone home. With one of our sacred acid bonds severed for good, me and Carter fell awkwardly back to Earth as we smoked one last joint and talked about the trip. At the time, I was so blown away that I didn’t really say much. I sort of expected the credits for my life to roll and someone to shout, “That’s a wrap!”  Instead, Carter left me with this: “Now you know what it’s like to be as high as humanly possible.” He said it so causally that it gave me the chills.

By 8:00 AM, only an afterglow remained aside from the generally weird feeling I had after seeing such crazy shit. I bid Carter farewell and went back across the street to my room in the frat. After taking an hour long, steaming hot shower, I laid down for a while in shock. My phone fell behind the bed that I’d watched Joe Dirt on, and it would take me a week to find it, but that’s probably a good thing. The enormity of what I’d witnessed made me want to call my mom, call my dad, call 911, fucking ANYBODY. Did no one see my skull beacon?!

The next few days were unreal. Smoking weed made me pretty uncomfortable and I was even more reserved than usual. After deciding to go back home and work on myself before tackling school, I did a fair amount of research on psychedelics. Without the internet and its treasure trove of resources, I would have gone insane.

This trip changed my life. I gambled and won big time, but I also got a preview of how bad it hurts to lose, and even though I say I “won,” there’s still a price to pay. I cannot share the true nature of what I saw; there are literally no words for it. I’ve never seen it captured in paintings or photos. I’ve heard it in some songs, but still... It’s not the same. Don’t underestimate these drugs.

So, there yah go. I’m counting the days till I can blast off again, but I figure it’s best to save such bold adventures for a future me, so I’ve decided to wait until I’m at least 25. Thanks for reading, and peace!!!

Exp Year: 2017	ExpID: 112070

Gender: Male

Age at time of experience: 18

Published: Jul 4, 2018	Views: 3,209

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LSD (2) : General (1), Small Group (2-9) (17)


		 DOSE:
 T+ 0:00
		 1.5 hits
		 oral
		 LSD
		 (blotter / tab)

		   T+ 5:00
		 1 hit
		 smoked
		 Cannabis

           BODY WEIGHT:
	   120 lb

This is the story of my first trip two years ago, early May 2015. It was with my ex, Eric.

Introduction to Drugs

I was 25, and less than a year out of college. Most of the people I knew moved after school, but I was trying to build up an art business despite my computer science background. Eric was a friend in school and one of the only people I still knew in the area. We had a good connection then, and we started talking about life struggles and he offered me a lot of support and wisdom. I was bored with my pretty sheltered life, and I knew he smoked a lot, so we decided to hang out, us both excited for him to introduce me to weed. Things got intimate. We had an incredibly strong connection, but there was a lot of conflict (which is normal for him, but not me). We had so much in common, that, for you Jung fans, I think made me serve as his shadow.

Despite the conflict, I loved and trusted Eric a lot. I was really enjoying weed and wanted to try more psychedelics. I didn’t know much about LSD but I was curious. He advertised it as something to help me get past some anxiety issues and fix some of my internal world. I was mainly concerned with doing something fun and interesting.

He advertised it as something to help me get past some anxiety issues and fix some of my internal world. I was mainly concerned with doing something fun and interesting.

 I read into it to ensure it was safe and learned about it, and became more and more excited. I was especially excited to have the deep, connected, spiritual sex on it I read was possible.

Technically, my first experience was with a microdose and a lot of weed, and we just had a lot of incredible sex. But after, he was upset because apparently I made it too much about me and he wanted time on his own. I was confused because he seemed fine at the time, but I felt guilty and was worried about accidentally upsetting him and consuming too much of his time going into our trip.

A few weeks later, we planned on actually tripping, and I remember him asking me what I wanted from it. Looking back I was scared of giving the “wrong” answer, but I said I’d love to overcome some personal problems, but I’m not expecting it and just want to enjoy it. A big reason is it was actually something interesting to spend time doing together. We were in a poly triad, and he’d do things with the other girl, but our relationship was just sex and him stressing over existential dilemmas while high to me – the lack of doing things together upset me and it was a point of contention – he saw me asking as disapproval which further worked against me.

The Trip

We decided to do 1.5 tabs, a bit before dark, at his apartment. We went to the park. He got annoyed when I tried to hold his hand while walking. We got to a bench, and I was pretty horny from the excitement of doing something new, and I tried to kiss him but he pushed me away. I remembered his concerns about taking too much of his time so I tried to focus less on him.

We started walking back during the come up. The first thing I really noticed was the ground. There was a tiled area with steps that got very warpy, and it was difficult keep my footing. Eric guided us back, and I saw a metallic piece of trash on the sidewalk, and it kind of blew my mind. I motioned to Eric in excitement and he said “yes, I see the shiny thing.” That amused me a lot and I had trouble not laughing loudly and making a scene.

We got back just in time before peaking. The first thing I saw was one of his tapestries. Fractals danced and flowed though the patterns, and I practically started crying over the beauty of it (Eric later said he thought I was crying because I was confronting things).

We listened to music, I mainly remember Pink Floyd, as I watched another tapestry. After a while we talked for a bit. I was seeing these Tim Burton-esque figures in the tapestry and tried describing it. I was also seeing kawaii cupcakes in it, with rainbows flowing through them. Eric commented on that being my totem.

He brought up a miscarriage I had told him about, that caused me a lot more pain than I expected at the time, saying he thinks “it all” comes back to that. I said “hm, I didn’t think of that,” but I didn’t think so, and luckily I was well past it. He talked about struggling with his weed dependency, and I commented that maybe it was because it was a big part of his identity. At this point I never analyzed him like he did me.

I was a bit upset over turning 26 in a few weeks because of a hang-up I have about missing out on fun, social experiences in youth. I was chubby and awkward as a tween, and was intensely bullied. Then I had a really fucked up experience in a small Catholic school I went to for a year, ironically to get away from the bullying. I got depressed and a bit weird and lost all of my old friends because of it. I grew out of that ugly/weird phase, and through college I found a lot of confidence and was well past those things, but I struggled to find the life experiences and social life I’ve desired. Eric was trying to make me feel better about my birthday by telling me 26 was great, because the 26th was his birthday, the exit to his parent’s house, and I think another thing related to him. It was cute, but I think that later made me feel deeper tie to him throughout that year of my life.

Things were going well, and I didn’t feel an ounce of fear or discomfort.

I didn’t feel an ounce of fear or discomfort.

 We bonded some more, and eventually tried to have sex. It wasn’t flowing, which was odd for us. We were in the mood in his living room, but changing to the bedroom threw it off. I went in with some expectations of emotional, connected sex, and he initially asked for a blowjob and that he’d take care of me after. I normally loved giving blowjobs, but that wasn’t really what I wanted from this, and I was a bit upset. We recognized things were off, and he motioned to back up in a cute way, I assume with the intent to try again in a bit.

The Tunnel

We were past the peak, probably around 5 hours since dropping, and he decided to smoke. I was sad knowing it was wearing down (though looking back I still had plenty of good trip hours left) so I followed his lead and took a pretty big hit. After, I think he started stroking my thigh (still not wearing clothes from before).

I was staring at his mandala tapestry, and it turned into a tunnel that completely took over the room. It pulled me in and a sensation came over me that was completely beyond words. Before that, I still felt in control and pretty much on Earth, just a magical, rainbowy, fractaly one. The weed took it to an insane level completely outside of comprehension. It felt incredible, and I remember thinking “holy crap, now this is something different.” I was really into it. It was sexual but not at the same time – I think I was panting/moaning the whole time; it was unbelievably intense, physically and mentally, and a completely new sensation.

The tunnel broke away and it was like the entire universe revealed itself to me. I was beyond normal seeing, but what I retained was an image of an octopus constellation. At some point I must have regained some thought and realized I was no longer in control, that I was gone, and that I was vulnerable to the power of the entire universe. I started freaking out a bit. It wasn’t bad-bad yet, but I was shocked and scared. What I felt was so out of my normal realm of comprehension that I started to think I must have died. I was saying “holy shit, I just saw the universe,” and asking how to get back to myself. I told Eric I could never have understood him before but now I do. I kept saying “the cupcakes” to try to remember myself. The room started coming back.

I could be wrong, maybe he was just trying to explain, but I think Eric was trying to help me get back and to fight it. He really should have known not to do that, not fighting it is rule #1, but he was freaking out too. He’s scared of the void himself, and would later tell me he had a horrible void experience. I forget if this was during this or after the trip, but he had expressed that you should never look too deeply into the void. He also warned me earlier not to look in the mirror.

For the rest of the trip I’d go in-between states of hallucinating hard, kind of being in reality but scared shitless, and being in some hell void.

I’d go in-between states of hallucinating hard, kind of being in reality but scared shitless, and being in some hell void.

 There are some gaps in my memory and time got wonky. I had a few different interpretations of reality that would weave in and out. For much of the parts I was capable of thought, I was sure I was dead. A lot of it turned into a religious metaphor (I was an atheist for a decade, but raised Catholic).

Tripping Balls

We were on his couch, but I didn’t see the apartment, it was like we were in some vessel in space. He was talking to me, trying to explain and help. I don’t remember anything that he actually said for this, but I saw him as this golden, glowing figure. While the metaphor was based on my Catholic upbringing, the imagery had a Greek mythology quality - he looked like a Greek god in a glowing sort of chariot like thing. He assumed the role of Lucifer (I don’t think I thought of him by name, but he was clearly that figure). Not Lucifer “the devil,” or an evil figure, but the light bringer, and the knowledge the acid imbued in me was like eating the “apple.” It seemed like through him was the path to truth and true salvation. But that’s some crazy, heavy shit, and I didn’t fully trust it. I was scared of being tricked and that it was wrong to reach out for what Lucifer offered, and God would punish me for it, or Lucifer himself was tricking me to follow him into hell.

Through this I had another narrative running in parallel. I thought Eric, and others that did acid, were changed on a spiritual level and turned into “acid people,” and I didn’t know if that was good or bad. For parts I figured Eric had to have known this would happen, and I figured he was lonely and wanted to pull me into his world so he wouldn’t be alone it in, and needed to trick me to do acid with him to do that. I wasn’t mad about it, I understood, and I cared for him and considered going with him beyond this life, but wasn’t sure I was ready to give up my life as a human.

Eric’s attempts to talk me back to myself and reality weren’t exactly working and I started to panic more. Everything turned black, and it was this horrible, torturous emptiness and intense fear that lasted an eternity. Like the fear of a nightmare, infinitely multiplied, with a sort of electric quality. It was like it drained all of the light and love, all of the humanity, from me. You’d expect the experience of nothingness to not have a feeling, but there was something so deeply disturbing and horrifying about it. It felt evil. I can’t imagine any torment in normal reality that could compare to this.

For a moment, when I was back and more aware of reality, I was scared I’d grab something off his table and try to kill myself to end the torture. I know I went in and out of that void multiple times, each lasting an eternity to me, at various points while still in the apartment. Some of my memories are explicitly in the third person, from above. I saw myself cowering, trying to back up into the corner of the couch as if something horrifying was in front of me.

At some point I managed to get clothes on, I think with Eric’s help. He was trying to change the setting to take me outside (it was around 2am probably). I don’t remember why, but we ended up not doing that.

I remember asking him if he killed me (in a scared, childish way), and asking if I was in hell and being punished. I also asked if this was ego death, so part of me understood. At some point Eric was freaking out too, but I don’t know what he really experienced. I remember him saying things like I was this good person with a lot of potential that he ruined, expressing that I was going through a hard time in life, and that I had no self to get back to. I know he had this idea that I didn’t have a strong identity because I didn’t have decorations in my apartment (because all my money went into my business, I actually love decorating) and other stupid, superficial things. To hear from the person you trust as the experienced party that your self is gone forever and you’re ruined is hell in this state.

We had one mutual friend still around, his ex, that he was going to call but I told him not to (she would have been so pissed at him, and we weren’t that close). I said to call Adam, who I dated before Eric for 7 years, since I trusted him and the dude is a rock. Somehow I managed to call him and leave a message that I needed help, and I think I got Eric to actually get ahold of him.

In the brief moments of understanding I knew Eric couldn’t handle this situation. I tried to express to Eric that it wasn’t personal. I don’t think I felt I was actually choosing between them, at least not romantically. My ex will always be like family to me but I had no desire to get back with him. There was some element of choice though, and I said something along the lines of “I’m sorry, I wish it could be you”. He later said he was just happy to have someone come deal with the situation.

I was asking for Adam, mostly for him in reality, as I was sure he’d make things better, but I think it also played into the religious metaphor – I wanted to stay with people and Adam’s name represented humanity. At some point Eric left to his room while I waited for Adam. My memory is mostly black here but I know it was hell waiting, I think I went back to the void.

I was really excited to see Adam, thinking that would make things better, but when Adam came, not much changed. I felt safer with him but I was too detached at this point. I think Eric told him to take me to the hospital. He actually started to take me back to my apartment, but I think I asked to go since Eric said I should. I experienced a looping eternity that was slightly different in the car; it may have even been the worst part. I’d describe it as sharper and less pure, with some visual component – blackness but with streaks of light coming form the streetlights. The loops made it more horrifying, but it’s hard to compare at that level. I probably only think it was worse now because it was actually less intense and more comprehendible, and there was a bit more self present through it to create a more solid memory of the experience of it. Apparently I seemed calm through this.

Hospital

Suddenly I was checking into the hospital, and I told them that I took LSD and then smoked weed. From this point on I was completely in a raw, childlike state. While there, I spent a lot of time questioning reality, trying to use logic to determine what was real. I spent a lot of time talking though things, trying to make sense of it all, seeing connections and meaning in everything.

I spent a lot of time talking though things, trying to make sense of it all, seeing connections and meaning in everything.

There was a thread of me that understood what reality was, but I wasn’t sure that reality was true. I knew if it was, I should be careful what I do, because I may have to deal with the consequences in reality. I was also scared I’d convince myself that I had to do something that would be embarrassing or destructive in reality. Part of me knew I could believe anything in this state.

I was a bit scared I ruined my life for being “caught” doing an illegal drug, but I didn’t dwell on that too much. I was confused because I recognized that me tripping balls and freaking out would look pretty funny in reality, but no one found it entertaining. One nurse sort of had the expression of “ha, stupid girl tripping,” and I actually really liked that, it made a lot more sense and felt more real than everyone else being so apathetic. Adam called him over but it was awkward.

I was pretty sure the hospital was purgatory. Everything played into the metaphor, and I went back and forth between thinking the staff were angels and being scared they were demons. The rooms were in a circle, and sometimes someone would push a cart full of stuff past the rooms. I remember, each time, the stuff being pushed past got larger (I think it actually did in reality). I was scared of what would be next. It seemed significant.

Adam stayed with me, talking to me kindly. For someone with no drug experience, he did a great job. I thought he was God, but sometimes I’d get scared and think it was a trick and he was actually the devil, or that he was God but God couldn’t really be trusted. His face would transform between this almost rock like texture that was God, and a cliché red devil when he smiled. When that happened I’d get scared and ask him why he was so ugly - luckily he didn’t take that personally. I think I explained how his face was transforming. At some point it made sense that he was actually God in my life all along.

While Adam was firmly God in my head, I asked him a lot of questions. I’d get emotional about a topic and switch it quickly. My mom has MS, and I was very upset about her suffering, and suffering in general. My relationship to my mom is a bit weird; she’s in her own world and is hard to relate to. I don’t talk about her much normally but I have a lot of guilt associated with her. I asked him a lot about why suffering exists - it didn’t make sense. He kept saying things like “that’s just how things are,” but I wasn’t really taking that and it frustrated me. I thought God was full of shit. It bothered me how unfair things in life were.

I discussed some other things with God. I thought I could see things in a certain way, and see beauty in things that many others could not. I asked about that, and wanted everyone to see the beauty in things like I did. I don’t think I was just referencing the tripping visuals, though that was part of it. I thought I really saw things differently than the average person. Not to sound like a special snowflake or say I’m unique, but that I had some gifts. I believed I was highly creative and that my ability to love, empathize, and see connection was pretty far down the bell curve. I felt like if everyone could see things more like I did there wouldn’t be hatred and violence in the world. I felt a strong child force in me, and I was very scared of losing that.

Though he was God to me, he was also my ex. I told him that I really loved Eric, that he and I were “of the same” or something like that. I was without filter, but I then realized that could hurt him and felt bad, and told him that I’d always love him and he’d always be really important to me. I tried to explain, saying he and I didn’t have that type of bond, and that he couldn’t really understand me on a deep, personal level because he wasn’t like me. I felt bad about that afterwards, he had a girlfriend but wasn’t completely over me yet. Luckily he understood.

Before the freak-out, Eric jokingly expressed the importance of staying hydrated. He had a blue plastic cup. I was very thirsty, and asked for water in a blue cup, thinking that would do something. The hospital staff refused to give me water until they checked some blood work to see what I took (which I don’t remember them taking at all, but Adam says I fought it a lot). I was getting very dehydrated; Adam told me my lips were even cracking (I could sort of feel that but I was pretty detached from my body). That started to get me thinking more that the hospital staff really were demons trying to trick me, because who would withhold something as innocent and life giving as water? I was very scared of being tricked into hell. I obsessed over water and its meaning.

I was still scared I ruined my life for being caught on drugs, and I wanted to be back with Eric in his apartment. At some point I was getting the message loud and clear that I could choose my own reality. I thought I could change reality and get back before the bad parts happened. I wanted to be with him. I thought the water would take me, but shockingly enough, when I finally got it (it took hours), nothing happened. To be fair, it wasn’t in a blue cup, that’s probably why.

I saw a magic door appear in the hallway. It was incredible, kind of like what you’d expect a door that took you to some trippy dimension would look like. It had elegance to it, and I think it was hollow and with purple, glowy details, like an elaborate gate, with a bit of grey alien meets grateful dead look. Still confused over what was actually good and bad and what was a trick, I debated if I should go towards the door. I thought it would take me to the next plane of existence, but at the same time thought it would let me control reality and get back to Eric. At some point I apprehensively decided it was worth it and tried to go, but Adam held me back. I then decided I wasn’t ready and needed to be back with people. I asked him if I’d be ready next time. I felt comforted knowing I could go back to people. This may have happened before getting the water.

The hospital wanted to give me an IV because my heart rate was way up and I was incredibly dehydrated (no shit -.-). I was very scared of that; I was pretty sure it would trigger something significant. At this point I was mostly back to the “devil tricks” interpretation, and I thought the IV would take me out of purgatory, permanently killing me, or take me to hell. I remember saying no firmly, that I didn’t consent (I never talk firmly like that), but they told me it didn’t matter because I took an illegal drug. They got a big security guy to come. Adam said he came clearly expecting someone aggressively resisting, but then realized I was just very scared. He was nice, they did the IV, and, another surprise, IVs don’t actually teleport you to hell.

Adam had to leave for a bit. When he was gone I went pretty deep into psychosis, talking to myself the whole time, trying to figure out what was real. I knew how long acid lasted and the parts of me that knew I was reacting to a drug kept looking at the clock, desperate for this to end. Time was still behaving oddly. I don’t remember much after that; I assume they gave me some drugs and I think I fell asleep.

Adam came back. I wasn’t really tripping anymore but still very out of it. He tried to help me eat but I couldn’t stomach much. I think it was at this point, but it could have been earlier while I was still tripping, Eric got his mom to call me – she had experience when she was younger, and she was the only voice I truly trusted. She was calm and it helped a lot to talk to her – I was really touched by it. I wanted to talk to Eric, I asked about him, I was worried and wanted to know he was okay, but she said he was dealing with his own stuff right then.

He also got his friend who is very experienced to reach out to me. It was hard for me to believe what I experienced was something other people had, it seemed way too insane, but he told me it was “normal” and talked a bit and made me feel much better.

I was still out of it for the rest of the day and I don’t even remember going home. Adam and I both passed out as soon as we got in. I think 6, maybe up to 8 hours passed in the hospital before I was finally able to sleep. I felt normal again the next day.

After

I was actually completely fine and happy after this trip. It was hell but so interesting, the experience itself and the insight I gained through being in that raw state. Despite all of the fear and apprehension, I appreciated myself for how I reacted in many ways and what seemed ultimately important to me. The love I felt for Eric made me feel strong and I even wanted to try again.

I asked to see him, but he didn’t really want to yet because it would be too hard for him. He said that he spent the rest of the trip worried he’d never be able to have sex again. We talked a lot, and it was a good conversation, so he agreed to see me for a bit. We talked outside (he couldn’t deal with me being in his apartment), but he shortly had to leave to go to the movies with his other girlfriend. I was in a very good mood with an open mind so that didn’t bother me then, but now it does.

He broke up with me a few weeks later, on my birthday, online, during an argument. I wasn’t expecting to be so shattered. I’ve had hard breakups before, but everything between us and the trip made it too much for me. He refused to talk for a month, but then we were friends for a bit. I felt better with that but his selfishness bothered me and I needed him to acknowledge how he wronged me and the pain he put me through (not the trip, I didn’t blame him for that, but abandoning me and other ways he treated me). I kind of asked for some of that acknowledgment before but wasn't getting it, so I just told him it was too hard for me, that I loved him and missed the intimate bond too much (which was also true), but that I’d always be there for him if he needed me. I really thought he’d do the same.

Despair

I was unfortunately very alone in a time of change in my life, and I believe this trip opened a door that allowed me to tap into the intense emptiness and discomfort of the void. I suffered greatly. Being alone after this was worse than I could have imagined, but I couldn’t feel right about new connections I was trying to form. Every day I’d wake to a horrible feeling of dread that everything was wrong and I’d panic. I didn’t know it was possible to feel that bad. I wasn’t sure it wasn’t a “normal” reaction to having your life fall apart, but there was something about it that felt too much like the trip. After more, good trips I occasionally feel something good that definitely came from tripping, so I’m pretty sure this bad feeling is related as well.

Everything with Eric started to get to me, and I realized just how wrong so many of his actions were. I learned that he’s been very destructive to others. He has a way of picking people apart, responding to anything he interprets as criticism by spinning it back around and telling the person why their opinion is invalid, citing personal things that are “clearly” tainting their judgment.

I knew he didn’t want to be an ass and would truly try to be better, but his discomfort with guilt and need to feel perfect would stand in the way. He is a broken soul, but I saw in him a good heart and loved him to the depths of mine. I didn’t like that he was clearly troubled and neurotic, but there was a certain chaos he possessed that I found beautiful. He was introspective and open to many perspectives, and should have been better than this selfish control-freak living in denial and running from himself.

Throughout our relationship, he analyzed me a lot and tried to “help” me face problems he assumed I had. I tend to entertain and explore ideas, so in the beginning I felt he was helping me explore and challenge myself and I could grow from it. I enjoyed the level of openness. I now know this wasn’t about helping me, it was his selfish way of dealing with his own problems though me that allowed him to bypass personal discomfort and stay in control (subconsciously of course, I highly doubt it was intentional, though he does actually choose to be selfish).

He projected all of his problems onto me, and did the opposite with the other girl, to the extent where he couldn’t see any good quality in me that she also possessed. It became too much for him, and I feel he later discarded me in an attempt to discard the problems he projected onto me, citing his right to do what he needs to in the pursuit of his own happiness. The contrast with the other girl, who was actually a lot like me in many ways, would torment me. I truly wanted him to be happy, but the pain of knowing they were doing all of the fun things together that I wanted to do, while I was struggling to cope with this, was torture. Images of them having sex were burned into my mind, and I couldn’t do anything sexual without seeing it.

I reached out asking for help, saying that I needed some acknowledgment. He refused, saying he didn’t think he did anything wrong, except not warning me about how much more intense weed makes a trip. My love for him was still important to me, despite everything, and I couldn’t come to terms with his lack of compassion for me. I went a little nuts, trying to explain how I felt and how this hurt me, and how I understood and still saw goodness in him, but that some of his actions were blatantly wrong. I trusted his intentions and was hoping he’d understand and just say that he was sorry, but he just saw that as me being abusive to him. He made me feel guilty for demonizing him, as someone he had strong feelings for and loved endlessly. He said he only ever wanted to help me find happiness. I’d get frustrated, because his actions didn’t seem to be those of someone who loved me and cared about my happiness.

For 6 months I’d spend all day crying and having panic attacks (this interfered with my business, so I was unemployed and living off savings). At my worst I’d ask Eric for help – still feeling like I needed a conversation about this, but he refused, stating he didn’t think that would help me and that maybe he’d be willing after 5 years. He’d talk a bit online, but to him, this was his past, and now was entirely my problem and my responsibility. Part of me believed that, and I felt guilty for trying to get him to talk when he didn't want to, but I felt like it was something we got in to together, him knowing the risks that I couldn’t really understand, and I felt betrayed.

Tripping Again

I became friends with the guy who talked to me during it. He is very experienced with an incredible understanding of psychedelics, and he helped me have a good trip a year later. We did two tabs, he helped me get past some fear, and it was like the void but opposite; the universe gently opened up and I floated down this white light that felt like heaven, still very intense, but pure bliss. I felt like I was able to break some of the ties I felt to Eric, but I still cared about him deeply. I had a couple more good trips with this friend and handful on my own, and it definitely helped a lot, but I still always think of Eric, and it’s always heavy and intense – not like how it was in the beginning with Eric, before the tunnel.

I’m still alone, and still suffering, struggling to feel right about new people. It’s not that I think they will hurt me, I’ve met some great people who I know I could trust, but I just can’t feel right about it. I feel like I lost a lot of myself, including that child in me, through my struggle with coming to terms with my ex and the abandonment after such an intense and profound experience. I’m moving soon and I hope that a new place will help me rebuild myself, but he will always be a part of me. It’s like he was a large part of the material I used to rebuild myself after my ego was shattered, and now he is embedded into the foundation of who I am. I hoped killing my ego again would erase that, and it almost felt like it did, but I can always find him there; I think the first time is significant. I just hope one day it will be easier to live with.

Exp Year: 2015	ExpID: 110159

Gender: Female

Age at time of experience: 25

Published: Aug 11, 2018	Views: 7,433

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LSD (2) : Difficult Experiences (5), Train Wrecks &amp; Trip Disasters (7), Post Trip Problems (8), Relationships (44), First Times (2), Small Group (2-9) (17)


		 DOSE:

		 30-40 mg
		 oral
		 2C-B
		 (powder / crystals)

		 4 hits
		 oral
		 LSD
		 (blotter / tab)

           BODY WEIGHT:
	   175 lb

This report is a summary of my first experience combining LSD and 2C-B.

LSD is definitely my drug of choice. I've used it over 100 times, with positive results almost every time. It also works wonders for my borderline personality disorder, scaling the symptoms back until I hardly notice them at all (I usually take 3-4 hits every 2 weeks). In the past, I've only ever combined it with MDMA or cannabis, and these days those substances aren't really my jam.

I've had 2C-B three times prior to this experience, once orally (20 mg), once nasally (12 mg), and once both (30 mg, with two bumps of unknown quantity after the peak). My experience of 2C-B was very different from my friends' descriptions of it (dose may be a factor here). They talked about mind blowing euphoria and incredible visuals. I have yet to experience either. At first, I wrote 2C-B off as underwhelming, but I've come to see it more as subtle. I experience a deepening of colors similar to mescaline, and an openness, confidence, and loss of inhibition similar to MDMA. However, I experience a great deal of anxiety, evasiveness, dishonesty, and general inauthenticity on MDMA, and experience none of that on 2C-B. With 2C-B, I find myself to be compassionate with myself and curious about my emotions. I also have found 2C-B to be much more comfortable at concerts or large gatherings than MDMA, giving me opportunities to appreciate the nuances and nature of my social anxieties in a different, more compassionate, light.

The day of the experience, I'm alone in my rural cabin. I've been having a long term issue with an incredibly persistent poison ivy rash, and I'm slathering my body with medication, but the poison ivy medicine has no impact on the trip. I'm taking no other medication. I set the following intentions for the trip: 1. To understand my own misanthropy and find a way to forgive human beings for being dicks. 2. To understand what best I have to offer the world. 3. Music was once one of my greatest passions. I haven't been playing much, and I want to know where to go from here.

I'm feeling nervous about the trip, since I don't know how the two drugs will interact. Specifically, I don't know if they'll have a synergy that pushes me into an unusually powerful psychedelic state. My hand is shaking as I pour the 40 mg of 2C-B out of the baggie and onto a piece of paper, and I end up spilling a bunch of it and having to get it off the floor. I don't know how much I lost. So, the dose was probably somewhere between 30-40 mg. I put it in my mouth with four tabs of average potency LSD blotter. I do a small grounding ritual, burning sage and paulo santo, and I start putting together a music playlist. The LSD starts coming on quickly. I can feel strong alerts at 20 minutes. Oral 2C-B gives me weird indigestion feelings, and those start coming on at 30 minutes, though it's definitely background noise compared to the LSD. I set an alarm for the playlist, and sit down to meditate.

75 minutes after dosing, I feel myself peaking. As is typical of my LSD peaks, I find myself in a sort of CEV movie, experiencing archetypal human events from a transpersonal perspective. I'm not thinking as Mujo Lila anymore, in fact, my ego's dissolved enough that he's an afterthought. The movie almost feels like a trailer for the human race (violence, suspense, sex, drama, etc). Nothing particularly insightful here, though it's pretty cool. After about twenty or thirty minutes of that, Mujo comes back, and I get off my meditation seat to do some yoga.

About 2 hours after dosing, I start having a cosmic experience, downloading the purpose and history of organic life on the planet Earth. Whoa. This is new. It seems as though I'm communicating directly with an interdimensional being whose job it is to program and optimize organisms in this world. He (it?) very enthusiastically shares with me the story of organic life and what we're used for (some kind of large scale intergalactic data storage. Apparently, organic data storage is to their dimension what microprocessing is to ours). I have no idea how seriously to take all this, because drugs.

I have no idea how seriously to take all this, because drugs.

 But I am offered some compelling explanations for the nature of the human psyche, and the importance of forgiveness, love, and compassion. This interaction coincides with the album Fairchildren by Ott in the playlist, and as it ends, it seems like the communication is ending too, so I start the album over, and the communication keeps going. This takes care of intention number 1.

The whole interaction lasts about 90 minutes. Fairchildren ends for a second time, and I let the playlist continue. The trip moves immediately into its next stage, and I start thinking about a fantasy novel I've been working on (I'm 40 chapters deep on the first draft). I'm witnessing the arc of one of the characters, and I realize that it doesn't go where I initially thought it did. Instead of going to the misanthropic place I had originally intended, her trajectory shifts gears towards forgiveness and rebirth (with a sudden flood of CEVs to go with it). I realize that this change ripples throughout the entire world of the novel, changing the entire ending of the book. It feels like a missing piece has fallen into place, and suddenly all the themes and character arcs of the book make perfect sense. I stew on this for about 20-30 minutes, thinking about how I can best engineer this book to inspire people towards forgiveness. I think about how writing is my greatest talent, and how to use it for the good of other humans. This takes care of intention number 2.

4 hours after dosing, I start thinking about music. I realize that I have at least two dozen unfinished recordings on my hard drive, and that I ought to finish and perfect these tracks before moving on to new things. I don't need to learn a new instrument or a new genre. I need to work on what I already do well. I pick a song with a good hook that needs more development and work on it for a while, adding a good bass line. This takes care of intention number 3.

5.5 hours after dosing, I'm still hung up on the CEVs from a couple hours ago, and I get out a big sheet of paper and start laying the groundwork for some art. It's a little tricky, because my hands tend to shake when tripping on LSD, but it's all just pencil and outlines at this point anyway. I'm feeling very inspired / determined, and work for about 90 minutes, leaving some strong foundations that I can come back to later. I can tell already that this is going to be one of the most elaborate pieces I've ever made, and that's exciting. As I'm working, I can't help but notice how lucid I feel. I joke to myself that I could talk to my congressman and my pastor (I don't actually have a pastor) in this mental state. But the more I think about it, the less true that probably actually is.

At the 8 hour mark, I round a bend, and the trip comes down substantially.

At the 8 hour mark, I round a bend, and the trip comes down substantially.

 I felt sober an hour or two ago, but now I actually am sobering up. I'm not sure what to make of that. 2C-B seems to impart much more lucidity and clarity than LSD. I don't feel like I'm tripping, but I'm still definitely tripping, definitely altered. It's a subtle distinction. Words fail me.

I spend the rest of the day relaxing, eating, and dancing. Music appreciation is very high. The better the musicians, the more I enjoy the music. I feel every note in my body, feel exhilarated listening to a great solo or a great fill, playing air guitar or air drums, and having trouble sitting still. I do a qi gong session about 11 or 12 hours after dosing, then go take a shower. I go to bed about seventeen hours after dosing, and sleep for about 6 hours, feeling a solid afterglow in the morning. I'm tired and hungry all day, and after eating a couple small meals, spend the rest of the day in bed. Sleeping feels good. I don't feel lazy, I feel like I'm integrating in a healthy manner.

Some thoughts:

LSD definitely dominated the experience, but the 2C-B still added quite a bit. I often have big cosmic downloads on LSD, and transpersonal experiences conveying piecemeal information on the nature and origin of human behaviors, but this went much farther than usual. So much of what I experience on LSD verges on the nonsensical, like my brain is trying to process way more than it can usually comprehend. 2C-B took all that cosmic cerebral energy and grounded it in the heart. The virtues of compassion and forgiveness made real, heartfelt sense to me. I felt like my processing power was dramatically enhanced. Instead of the usual LSD mania where my thoughts get carried away with themselves all over the place, all of my thinking was clear, lucid, and grounded (yet still cosmic and transpersonal). The emphasis was less on sheer quantity of knowledge downloaded, and more on how that knowledge could be integrated.

I expected amazing visuals, and did not really get them. The LSD visuals remained dominant. 2C-B did take some of the edge off of the body load (LSD makes my shoulders feel like they're stapled to my ears sometimes). Stretching was very easy and felt incredible. Music appreciation was classic LSD, but the 2C-B added an extra layer of joy to the music.

I was also impressed that all three of my intentions were addressed. Sometimes I set an intention for a trip, but once it starts, the trip goes in a completely different direction. This time, not only were all my intentions addressed, but in order of importance. Neat!

On its own, 2C-B is not a psychedelic that blows me away, like LSD or DMT. But combined with LSD, I felt it brought something to the table that was sorely lacking. LSD can be so cerebral and abstract that I have trouble integrating it into every day life. But with 2C-B in the mix, everything felt integrated before the trip was even over. 2C-B is a grounding earth element next to the far-out air element of LSD. Far superior to candy-flipping. I would definitely try this combination again.

Exp Year: 2018	ExpID: 112271

Gender: Male

Age at time of experience: 33

Published: Aug 31, 2018	Views: 7,136

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2C-B (52), LSD (2) : Glowing Experiences (4), Music Discussion (22), Combinations (3), Alone (16)


		 DOSE:
 T+ 0:00
		 0.5 hits
		 oral
		 LSD
		 (blotter / tab)

		   T+ 3:00
		 0.5 hits
		 oral
		 LSD
		 (blotter / tab)

		   T+ 0:00

		 smoked
		 Cannabis

		   T+ 33:00
		 1 hit
		 oral
		 LSD
		 (blotter / tab)

		   T+ 120:00
		 1.5 hits
		 oral
		 LSD
		 (blotter / tab)

           BODY WEIGHT:
	   145 lb

Marvellous and tremendously enjoyable

Set:

Professional male. Mid 50s. Married with children. Psychologically stable. No history of any mental illness. No previous experience of psychedelics with the exception of a small amount of san pedro tea (mescalin) on one occasion.  Very occasional cannabis user (about once a year).  Attitude towards the experience: curious, interested, enthusiastic, overall calm, slightly nervous but generally confident.

Setting:

Day two of a six day holiday. Large very private lush terraced garden and house overlooking the Mediterranean. Warm weather. Blue skies. A break to swim and snorkel in a nearby bay in the afternoon.

Substance:

One tab of LSD consumed in two halves with a three hour interval, augmented by occasional puffs of cannabis.

Sitter:

Long-standing (older) friend with previous experience of psychedelics.

Session:

Large healthy breakfast followed by half a tab sublingually for 15 minutes at 0930 and another half at 1230. Initial onset within about an hour. Peak 1300-1500 with a second peak at about 1800. Gentle glide down back to normality at about 2400.  Nibbled on food intermittently throughout.

The experience:

Entirely positive. This was a tremendously enjoyable and fascinating experience.

This was a tremendously enjoyable and fascinating experience.

The effects for me were principally visual and very classical. The onset was marked by the appearance of objects (trees, plants, wood, ceramics, rocks and boulders) gently shifting, warping and breathing – most strikingly the bark of a tree became fluid and liquid like. This continued for perhaps four to six hours.

I also saw: fairy-like tracers left behind by the movement of my hands, leaves and birds flying past; intensification and shifts of shade (“neon”) and colour (with the leaves of a eucalyptus tree becoming beautifully violet, silver and gold); intensification of depth perception (3D+ or hyper-realism) so that my depth of field appeared almost to be layered into slices; an inversion of up and down (so that the sky appeared as though it were the sea), tilting of solid objects (especially trees) so that objects to the side appeared to be above me; subtle but definite shifting of solid earth beneath me; and the appearance of faces and animal forms in trees.

Closed-eye visuals were intense and took the form of brilliant silver and gold lobular patterns.  After sunset, different stars appeared quite distinctly as being nearer or further away in a very 3D way. Tactile sensations were also enhanced. At one point I found myself caressing my food as it shifted and warped in my hands.

My sense of self remained intact, though there were one or two moments when I did feel myself drifting away (especially after just puffing cannabis). I was reasonably functional throughout, except that using a mobile phone was almost impossible because the screen was flaring and ghosting with colour and patterns.

I was able to walk and talk throughout, although my conversation became rather philosophical in an enjoyably tumbling sort of way. I did not exactly lose my sense of time but it is remarkable how sunset and the stars came out so quickly.

By late evening, I felt myself returning back to normality. I slept well. I woke up with a slight headache but this went away with coffee and breakfast.  Otherwise, the next day I felt perfectly well.

Further experiences:

The experience was so positive that on the evening of the day after I took another tab! What I did not appreciate was the tolerance effect; so that although the second experience was still pleasant it was very muted and low key. On the fifth day I took another 1.5 tabs but my receptors were still somewhat depleted so that the effect was again somewhat muted. The lesson is that LSD trips really need to be spaced apart by many days or weeks to get the full effect.

My fourth experience was about two months later (a little over one tab) and was similar in effect to the first trip – again very enjoyable but the setting was urban and so not quite so magical. For me at least, an environment of nature, trees, birds and tranquillity is the gold standard.

Integration/post experience:

The experience had let to a deep interest in the psychedelic. I have since become fascinated by the whole subject:  the history of psychedelics, their discovery, pharmacology, uses and abuses, benefits and risks, psychedelic art, music and philosophy.

I fully intend to continue with my explorations of the psychedelic. But what is also clear is that the setting and the company are critical to the experience. The practical reality is that it is not easy to arrange matters so that one has the time, space and environment to enjoy LSD fully. So I suspect that my experiences are likely to be perhaps once or twice a year at most.

I suspect that my experiences are likely to be perhaps once or twice a year at most.

 I see the experience as something that one should respect and treasure, rather than treat casually. The quality of a trip is a great deal more important with LSD than the quantity of trips.

I am also curious about the effect of going more deeply and perhaps also combining with edible cannabis. I am not seeking to lose my ego altogether but I am very interested in going beyond the primarily visual.

Overall I am deeply grateful to have discovered the God-given gift of psychedelics. The world would be a better place if every politician on the planet were to experience at least one good trip.

Exp Year: 2018	ExpID: 112311

Gender: Male

Age at time of experience: 55

Published: Sep 16, 2018	Views: 6,717

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LSD (2) : Glowing Experiences (4), Nature / Outdoors (23), Guides / Sitters (39), First Times (2), Small Group (2-9) (17)