This is actually a trip report from about 3 years ago. I am posting it now because I didn't know about these forums then and it was a pretty crazy trip so I thought it might be an interesting story for somebody to read. I tried to make it as well organized as possible to make for an easy read, but keep in mind this was a while ago and so I have forgotten bits and pieces of it. First, just so you know, this is what I would consider my first time tripping. About two months earlier I had eaten shrooms that turned out to be pretty weak and only gave minor stoney effects. However, at the time I figured that was all there was to shrooms and that I had actually had a trip. Boy was I wrong. This probably messed me up because when I actually did trip, it was quite surprising. It was about 12:30 on a fall afternoon. I had just gotten off work and me and a couple friends had planned this out for about a week. We still hadn’t purchased the shrooms yet and our dealer was not in town. He was about 15 minutes away but we called him and he said he’d be there as soon as possible. Around 1:30 he finally came and we bought the shrooms. I only bought half an 1/8th because that’s how much people told me to do for the first time and sense I was pretty inexperienced I figured I’d stick with half an 1/8th again. We walked up to my friends house, about a 20 minute walk from where our dealer lived. If I remember correctly, it was about 2:15 when we ate them. I chewed ‘em up and washed them down with some fruit punch. Around 2:45 I started to feel the effects. I played guitar for a little bit, which was fun. Then I looked at my friend’s kitchen cabinets. The wood texture seemed to flow like a river. The usual effects… Around 3:00 we decided we didn’t want to be at his house anymore and we wanted to go outside. We ventured down the road into town to the park. This is when things started to get a little weird. I felt like a cartoon is the best way to describe it. The grass seemed greener than usual. Everything was really bright. I started to get caught up in my walking to the point I actually don’t even remember walking to the park. I was so in my head that when we finally got to the park, I don’t even remember walking there.I was at the park with only one out of the 4 friends who were tripping with me. We sat down on the picnic table benches for about 2 hours, or so it seemed. I don’t know if we actually were there that long, but it felt like it. The problem was that I didn’t move from that place for a long time. I just sat there getting lost in my thoughts. Suddenly, my phone rang. It was a good friend of mine, Elliot, whom I completely forgot wanted to trip with us. I still feel like an asshole for forgetting. I picked up and sounded like I was tripping balls and he was rightfully upset. He came down to the park to see us. Apparently I got mad at him, but honestly I don’t remember doing that. He got mad and left. I felt like a piece of shit for forgetting about him. I decided I should try not to think about that for now and I can talk to him about it after I came down in order to avoid a bad trip. It was kind of too late because I was already in so deep that I couldn’t stop thinking about it. The trip was getting extremely intense. I never expected this at all because my first time trying shrooms, it was like being high. This overwhelmed me. So I stood up and decided to try and get my head straight, but I just couldn’t. I couldn’t think of one thought at one time. A million different thoughts were running through my head at once. I went over to the swingset and started to swing which was loads of fun, but I fell off. I was okay but I was just laying on the ground laughing and looking at the sky. Then, my friend who I was with (not the one who was mad at me, a tripping friend) came over to me and said something along the lines of, “Dude! What the fuck are you doing? If anyone sees you they are going to know. You’re going to get us caught, quit being a dumbass.” Why the hell he thought saying that to me after I already had another friend mad at me, I don’t know. But at this point I just stopped carring and stopped trying to prevent a bad trip. I just let my thoughts overtake me. It seemed as if everyone was mad at me for no reason (except the friend I ditched, he had a good reason). All my friends left me to go up to the school to watch a soccer game. I asked to come but they wouldn’t let me because they were worried I was going to be obvious. I was so mad at how paranoid they were being. I just wanted to enjoy my trip and they were making it seem like a chore. They didn’t leave me alone, but close to it. They asked some kid whom I hardly knew to keep an eye on me. This guy was nice and all and did keep watch of me, but it was really strange because I didn’t even realize they had left. I was just alone at the park with a near-stranger. We went to McDonalds for some reason. I had money but it didn’t even occur to me to get something to eat. So we just sat there. I kind of wish I could go back in time and buy him a burgur or something as thanks for watching me, but I was completely out of it by this point. I was sitting in McDonalds and started to think I was dying. Everyone seemed to be staring at me. Most likely I was staring at them and didn’t realize it and naturally they stared back, but I wasn’t able to think that rationally and so thought everyone knew I was tripping. Maybe the guy I was with could tell I didn’t like it here because he suggested we go back to the park. So we went back to the park but I don’t really remember walking there, I just remember being at McDonalds and then being at the park. This is because I was so in my head that doing something like walking to the park was just a natural subconscious type thing. This next bit is what I was thinking throughout most of the trip summarized. It is not as important to the story so feel free to skip it, but you might be a little lost at the end if you don’t read it. ~~ I started thinking about my parents and people who loved me. They would be so scared and upset with me about what I was doing. I consider myself Christian I suppose, but I have had a lot of doubts in my faith every sense I got into psychedelics. I thought God was mad at me. I was kind of breaking past the walls that he set up for a reason. I was in a state of mind allowing me to see past the reality boundaries God created. Man was not supposed to be able to be in this separate world. However, God made mushrooms in hopes that intelligent people could see past the boundaries, only for a tiny period of time. But I was doing them at such a young age and was not using them as God intended. Therefore, He was mad at me and was going to punish me. I felt as if I was dying. I was seeing my life flash before my eyes. I never knew what that meant until that day, but it really can happen. You have flashbacks of all these important moments of your life. And I’d lived a pretty interesting life up to that point. That’s a different much more personal story that I won’t be posting on hip forums . Anyway, I just felt like I had made a huge mistake and my punishment was a slow death. I had lived a pretty good life up the that point (in the sense that there are people out there who have it much worse than I do) and yet I still felt the need to do drugs. ~~~ So we’re back at the park and my friends come back. They were already coming down apparently while I was nowhere near that point. They gave me strange looks because I probably looked pretty strange, but it upset me. I kept saying, “I’m sorry” out loud. It was directed to two people: a. my friends because they seemed to be mad at me, so I figured I’d not question it and just apologize b. God for doing drugs. (I don’t mean to sound like a crazy Christian or anything, keep in mind I was "tripping balls". I am not extremely religious, but I do believe there is an afterlife.) It was staring to get dark. They wanted to leave the park and so I followed. I felt like a dog or something. I had no idea where we were going and was just following them because I didn’t want to be left behind. I was told that we went to this one friend’s house for a short period of time and then to a pizza place that most of my friend’s worked at. I only have small memory segments of this actually happening because as I said before I was in my head and not paying much attention to what I was physically doing. The time now was probably around 7:30 or 8:00, I don’t know. I asked my friend if we could just go to his house. This was the house we planned on staying the night at, but I kind of forgot that. Keep in mind this isn’t the same house that we ate the shrooms. It was a different friend. I wasn’t very familiar with his house as I had only been there a couple of times and they had done some remodeling so I hardly recognized it. Thankfully his parents weren’t home so we had the house to ourselves. As soon as we got there I went into his living room, balled up on his couch, closed my eyes, cried and begged for God to quit teasing me and kill me already. All of the white noise of being outside was suddenly gone. It was very calm and quiet. I figured I was about to die. I couldn’t wait really. So my friend’s called Elliot, the friend I ditched. He was at the time and still is what you would call my “best friend”. Which makes it all the more worse that I forgot about him. Being the good friend he is, he tried to help me. He made me a Toaster Strudel but I couldn’t eat. I started to think all of my friend’s weren’t actually real but instead were fake versions of them in some sort of pre-afterlife. No one else but Elliot was in the room so I figured I was going to spend the rest of my afterlife with him sense he was the one who I first started doing drugs with. I thought, when you die from misusing drugs, you go to your own drug afterlife. Stupid, I know, but I was so deep into this whole thought, I didn’t just think it could be true or thought it was a neat idea, I knew it was true. There wasn’t a doubt in my mind that I was dieing. It’s a strange feeling that I have never had before. I thought I was dead, or almost. I could remember the life I gave up in order to live in this living room with my best friend for the rest of my life. On the one hand I thought, “this isn’t so bad” but on the other hand I was thinking, “what have I done..”. Then I took out my phone, which I forgot to mention I had been doing pretty much the whole day. Just taking it out and staring at it. Looking back, I see it as a symbol of reality. If you look at the phone, you can see things like the time, recent text messages, just things that remind you that you are still alive. But I was feeling so shitty that I didn’t care and wanted to die so I through my phone as hard as I could at the wall. Luckily, it didn’t break but it scared the shit out of Elliot. I was ready to die and wanted to die. I felt I had been through enough. I was tortured in my head for long enough and deserved to die. I meant that in a positive way. As if death was a privilege. So after getting rid of that reality symbol (keep in mind I didn’t think of it like that at the time, but possibly sub-consciously I did?) it was time for me to go. I balled up in the couch and begged God to let me die. This next part is the strangest part of all, almost too strange to believe that a higher power wasn’t actually fucking with me. I say this in a sober state of mind. You can think what you want, but this next thing that happened is just too coincidential for me to beleive it wasn't. My friend carried me up the stairs while I was still balled up with my eyes closed crying. He carried me up the stairs into my friend’s room. Except get this, I didn’t realize this. Again, the fact that I wasn’t, in a sense, physically there and the fact that my eyes were closed the whole time caused me to not even realize he carried me into my friend’s room. I decided to open my eyes and I suddenly I was no longer in the living room but in my friend’s room. And not only was I in his room, but all of my friend’s were there too, even some that I hadn’t seen all day. And I had only been in this friend’s room once and he had re-decorated it and painted it sense then so I didn’t recognize it at all. I didn’t know what to take of this, but my brain tried to figure it out. Here is what I came up with: I had finally died. The living room “scene” was the last stage, the “pre-afterlife”. I was with my best friend who was trying to help me get upstairs and finally reach my drug afterlife. I kept on hearing this voice in my head saying things like, “Why did you have to do drugs?” and various things of this nature. Then, for some strange reason, one of my friend’s decides it’d be a good idea to show a picture of me. This scared the hell out of me. I was being shown a picture of myself before I did shrooms. Living my good life that God had given to me and I had taken for granted. I took the camera, in a fuck you manner, through it at the wall. I ended up breaking it and I feel bad for doing that, but I didn’t think this was all in the real world anyway. I wouldn’t have done that otherwise. I was so angry and was just freaking out and flailing my arms. Elliot tried to calm me down, and I thought he wasn’t real and so pushed him down. That really pissed him off and he took that extremely personally. I wish he wouldn’t have. He thought because I was tripping there was something I had against him that was coming out because of the fact I was tripping. I know he was just trying to help me by trying to calm me down, but I didn’t think anything that was happening was happening in reality. I just want you all to understand that so I don’t come off as a dick. I also had to use the bathroom really badly. I had this sharp pain in my bladder, but I didn’t exactly know what it was. To be honest, I thought it was that my dick was cut off as part of the punishment for misusing drugs. I kept saying I had to use the bathroom and they kept saying, its just down the hall. But the way they said it sounded kind of freaky. As if “that’s what they want me to do”. I thought if I went down the hall I would fall into an endless pit or fall into a pit to hell or something. So I decided I’d just pass it off as my dick being cut off and live with it. Then all of the sudden someone’s parent’s were here to give us a ride to the bowling alley for cosmic bowling. This is when I started to come down. We got in the car and I started to think, “maybe I’m not dead”. I started to feel really dumb for allowing myself to believe all of the stuff I came up with in my head. When we finally got there I went to the bathroom and was pretty much completely sober. I was drained, but sober. I didn’t bowl and just sat there thinking about the day while Elliot gave me a lecture or whatever about how mad he was at me. It kind of sucked; I wish he had waited to do that. I was already feeling super shitty for allowing myself to believe all that and looking really weak and then he had to top it all off with yelling at me. He had the right to, but I wish he had waited until later. Well, that's the story. I probabaly left out some parts that I find important, but it's already pretty long. I hope it wasn't too hard to follow, I wrote it from start to finish without really stopping or proofreading it. I find it's an interesting story to tell while smoking with the younger weed smokers interested in trying shrooms. Not to scare them or anything, but just 'cause its a good story I think. But I mean, I'll tell it to anyone who wants to here it. I'm not annoying about it or anything and just constantly telling it though But if someone wants to hear it, I'll tell it. Anyway, hope you enjoyed reading it!
Wow great story, I couldn't stop reading all the way through. Sucks you had a bad trip. I've never had one that bad, I've felt the whole I'm going to die thing, but it quickly passed. From what I gathered, it seems you were really paranoid about doing "drugs". That's why you kept saying what have I done and stuff like that... Still good story, did Elliot ever end up doing shrooms?
He had tripped before then. It was just that he really wanted to trip with me. And we did eventually end up doing just that and had a blast. By the way, this bad trip didn't scare me away from shrooms, it really attracted me to them. I sometimes wish I could have one that bad again just because it was such an experience, but I don't think it's possible.
Haha, I know. It sounds crazy, but its true. We even weighed it out beforehand so I am positive it was half an 1/8th. Makes me sound kinda like a bitch, but oh well.
