DOSE:

oral

Mushrooms

(liquid)

BODY WEIGHT:

120 lb

Well, this is the story of an experience that affected and continues to affect my life. I am 33 now, this happened when I was 17 years old. I was a pot head and not a tripper. I had done mushrooms at boarding school because they grew down in the woods and my friend knew what they were. So I thought they were cool, I had good, funny times on them. I was 14 then, a kid. I had kid trips, carefree, fun. So when this guy came around with a bag of mushrooms I thought cool, I know these, these are 'fun'. He boiled them up to make mushroom soup. Well it was like a black goo, I dunno if you could call it a soup more like a goo. So we drank the goo and then some guy came around drunk as hell, started smashing my flat up. He was a friend of the mushroom guy, I didn't know who the fuck he was. So we all got stressed out, not a good idea before a trip.

Everyone left, the drunk guy actually fell head first down a flight of steps which was quite funny, and I went up the beach a bit freaked out and nervous. The sound of the sea sounded like it was going through a phaser, wierd. Everything was purple and the stones bubbled. I remembered this feeling from my boarding school days but this time it seemed overwhelmingly strong. I was rushing intensely. I sat on a bench and watched the visuals. I was scared. I was heading into something as an adult with adult problems, not as a kid at school without a care in the world. I had not been eating properly and spending all my money on dope, I was thrown out by my parents into a shitty 1 room flat. Things were different now. All I remember is going back to my flat, getting in bed and just totally losing it.

I guess you could call it a living nightmare. Horror. Fear. It went on for about 6 hours I think. Just me and the horror. I remember being on some sort of cutting machine being sliced. My personality being sliced up. I remember conveyer belts, my fist clenched, holding onto my fist. That's all I had to hold onto. It's a bit blurred now the memories. Anyway it ended. The feeling of joy. I was back. I was ok. Or was I?
Next morning I awoke. Something was wrong. I dunno it didn't feel the same. I felt different for a while, for a week or so. Then I watched 'Raiders of the lost ark' and when the guys face melted at the end, I kinda fell into the horror again. I jumped up and ran from the room and I found myself unable to stop moving. Wierd huh?

So I just walked about for 3 days! I just walked from one place to another for 3 days. Hell I didn't understand what was happening to me. I couldn't sit still for more than a min. I was crying and wondering if it would ever stop. Well it did stop, and I was so happy it stopped I got stoned off my face on dope with a friend and had a massive flashback. I rolled about on his floor. He was freaking out, I was freaking out, damn! The doctor had given me some tranquilizers for my 'moving about' period. I was eating them like sweets I dunno if that caused it. The whole thing is so dim now in my memory. The lead up to the rest of the story, a chain of wierd events.

The next night I was 'flashbacking' again I dunno why. It always seemed to start at around 6-7pm and go on till morning. I got all the visuals too, but not full hallucinations. Along with the visuals was a spiritual fear like aliens taking me over kinda thing. All the trippy thoughts. So obviously I was a 'little' freaked out as every night came and every night these visuals and thoughts invaded my mind. I was definently getting fucked over this. I remember my friend giving me a current bun and I thought the currents were dead flys. I threw it back at him horrified and mad.

So days turned into weeks, weeks into months. And still this went on and on. As you can imagine ones sanity can become a little 'frayed' as you sit waiting every night for a journey into neverland. So the only way out of it was to get into it. So that's what I did, I accepted it. What else could I do trapped inside a recurring trip? I had no choice. I couldn't escape it, there was no escape. The fear I had over those first few weeks was the fact I was never going to come down. That was my fear. But I always did, and it was always the same strength, it never got past a certain strength. So I had to accept it. So where did I go during all this? I think my personality went into hibernation, unable to accept this new reality.

Just to say for the next few years I went a bit 'ga ga'. I lost it totally. I became an alcoholic, talked a load of shit about god and aliens, gave people wierd drawings as 'presents'. I remember never being able to sleep with the light off for fear of 'spirits' tormenting me. When you have to laugh at fear, as the only way to stop being frightened, as a final solution to stop myself going completely nuts. The laughter I hear is perhaps madness?. So I tried religion to help me. Healers etc. Nothing worked. But gradually, slowly, I was getting better. I got a job (!). I started to wash and change my clothes(!). I quit drinking.

By the way even a small puff on a joint during this experience would completely send me into utter confusion and panic and trip me 'right out'. So I had to drink if anything.
At the age of 25 I think it had really stopped. The first 2 years were the worst by far, a real spaceland.

Actually I lost 8 years of my life. 8 years I could use to learn about myself and people around me and basically the 'world' I guess. So at 25 I was completely confused as to what the hell I was doing here, who I was etc. Having been cutoff from reality for so long. Thinking back I dunno if it was actually tripping. Psychotic episodes definently, but I remember the walls warping and the carpet moving about swirling colours. Their was definently visuals there. As far as coping with it went I was on my own. It was a very personal experience of course. you don't meet someone who trips out every night every day. 3 years into my job I couldn't cope anymore. My feelings were too intense, the stress and anxiety. 3 years of it was too much. So I am seeing a psychotherapist as we speak to try to stop the anxiety attacks. 33 years old now. But the fear has totally gone so that's something I guess. I am just left a 'bit' of a paranoid nervous kind of guy, which isn't so bad as being a mad paranoid nervous wreck kind of guy. LOL

Exp Year: 2003	ExpID: 28125
Gender: Male
Age at time of experience: Not Given
Published: Oct 19, 2007	Views: 9,158
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Mushrooms (39) : Post Trip Problems (8), HPPD / Lasting Visuals (40), Health Problems (27), Not Applicable (38)