DOSE:	repeated	smoked	Cannabis
	2 - 3 g	oral	Mushrooms	(dried)

BODY WEIGHT:

100 lb

I do not consider myself, even now, as an experienced tripper. I certainly wasn't one that late August night. Since then, I've had a few amazing acid experiences. Mushrooms are a whole different animal.

I'm writing about this experience in hopes of finally just forgetting about it and letting the past be the past.

I can't be very technical in terms of what kind of mushrooms I ingested, or even how much I took. I was extremely naive and completely uneducated, and the whole ordeal was impulsive.

That night, my dear friend C and our friend J got together and smoked a few bowls before going to see a movie. Going to the movies stoned is always fun, and it was. By the time we got out, it was around 2 am. Considering how great the end-of-summer weather was, we didn't want to call it a night, and J suggested that we go to his friend's place to smoke in his backyard. R, his buddy, wasn't someone I would have hung out with otherwise. Never liked him. First big mistake.

So we headed over. Picked our lawn chairs and kicked back. R packed a bong and the rotation began. 'Green Crack' is what he called it; a couple rips and I was rolling. A few minutes in and J pulls out a little baggy from his pocket. It was filled with dried, white-brown morsels. 'Anyone interested?'

I'd like to think I'm the adventurous type; I immediately said yes. C wasn't interested, but R and I were both given a small handful of caps and stems. After a moment of hesitation, I smiled and threw them in my mouth.

You could see how it went so bad. I was around someone I didn't particularly like, at an unfamiliar location, in the dead of night.

Buzzing with anticipation, I partook in another rotation and kicked back. After about twenty minutes, I began to laugh uncontrollably. I looked down at my jeans, and saw the threads of the denim snaking up and down my legs. R kept saying something about us connecting with nature and shit, but I wasn't really paying attention. The sky caught my eye. It looked like a quilt, each section a different color. I don't know what thought came into my head, but it was a complete and utter decline from there. It hit so fast.

My eyes closed, and I was in a pit, a literal pit. The walls were made of dirt, and I was broken and mangled at the bottom. I felt bugs crawling on me, maggots and flies. I looked over to my arm and saw myself rotting. Keep in mind, this was all so REAL. I felt everything, and I was completely disconnected from reality.

I looked up from where I laid and saw murky light pouring in from the opening of the pit. I heard the most malicious laughter imaginable, and voices talking about me, talking about how I was dead, how I wasted my life and was nothing but a disappointment. I wanted to cry out in defense, but I couldn't speak, let alone move. I was trapped. Then I was back on the chair in R's backyard; my friends had morphed into these fat, hideous slug-like creatures. One was sitting across from me, and the other's to the right of me. I stared in horror and they clicked their weird little claws together and laughed, talking about what a freak I was, that the world is better off without me.

At this point, I could only come to the conclusion that I was dead and in hell, and that I would spend eternity in R's fucked up backyard.

According to the other three, I began to say 'no' over and over again. I got up and rushed to the front yard. R's suburban, cookie cutter neighborhood was on fire, the trees were swaying back and forth rapidly. I spotted C's car and rushed to the passenger door, but it was locked. I just wanted to go home and see my mom's face and smell something familiar and safe. I fell to the ground and leaned against the tire.

Out of the three, R is the one who came to see if I was alright. I saw him walking towards the car and I rushed to him, hugged him for dear life. I told him I was scared and he rubbed my back and told me everything was fine, that I was just tripping. The visions had died down a bit. He led me back to where everyone sat. C was half-asleep, and I remember feeling hurt, like she didn't care that something was going very very wrong. This feeling brought back all the horror and I screamed at the top of my lungs. I reached for my phone, because I couldn't really recall who I was and figured I could find a familiar text or contact. Of course, it was dead. I freaked and begged C to take me home. It felt like hours before she finally decided that the situation needed to be handled. I ran to the car, followed by C and J.

The ride was nothing short of horrific. I was clutching on dashboard, shaking and trying to figure out my name. J, who through this experience I learned was a fucking prick, kept saying that he wanted to be dropped off first. Clearly didn't give a shit that I was going insane, that the drugs HE gave me had thrown me over the edge. I screamed and told him I needed my mom right away.

C got lost in R's subdivision. At least, I think she did. It took forever to get out. Every street sign I looked at had my name on it, and it felt like we took a left turn onto the same street a hundred times. It was never-ending. I couldn't shake the feeling of pure dread.

When we finally reached my house, I snatched my purse and bolted out the door. I remember hearing C speed off. Once again, the feeling that no one cared, that I WAS the freak those slugs said I was.

I ran inside and went straight to my mom's room and crawled into her bed. The sheets were covered in bugs, and I thought 'no, it doesn't matter where I go, I'm still in hell, I can't escape'. I snuggled close to her and she woke up, asking me what I'm doing, her voice heavy with sleep. It didn't sound like her, and I was so scared, I hopped off the bed and rushed to the bathroom. I figured a shower would knock some sense into me.

I stripped down and jumped in, crying as the water hit me. I looked over to the windowsill, which of course, was covered in bugs. I slipped and fell, then got out.

Naked and soaked, I ran back into my mom's room. She was sitting on the bed, the lamp on, a bewildered look on her face.

'Mom, I've been poisoned, I've been poisoned and I'm dead!' I screamed. She just stared at me, trying to understand. I thought she was going to start taunting me, like the slugs, so I ran away, through the hallway to the TV room, where my stepdad was.

He was sitting on the recliner, looking completely confused and almost disgusted. I just stared at him, naked and confused. I think I ran to him to make sure I was home, that everything was normal and in it's place. After a moment, I ran back to my mom's room and just started crying on the floor.

'Who poisoned you? What are you talking about?!' She kept saying. I clutched my stomach and explained to her what the slugs told me. I was dead, I wasted my life, that she wasn't my mom.

Then I threw up. Tons and tons of bile all over her floor, on my hands and knees. I heard static in my head and through the static, I heard her say, 'Aren't drugs fun?' over and over again. Funny thing is, she really was saying that.

After I got out the last of it, I curled into a ball and watched her clean it all up, speechless and finally accepting my death. Eventually, I crawled upstairs to my room and got in bed.

I've read about ego death, and I'm pretty sure that's what I experienced. It began with me getting a hold on reality and then watching it crumble, over and over again. I tried to remember things, anything really, but I couldn't. I didn't have any memories or recollections, I couldn't remember my name, and my body just didn't exist. I didn't feel the sheets or the water on my skin. I closed my eyes and was just this ball of energy and light, shooting through space, passing stars and planets. I went from terror to bliss. Completely lost myself and realized 'damn, I'm everything and nothing and so is she and he and everybody and I'm not alone'. It felt so wonderful, I just wanted to stay.

As the sky began to lighten, I finally came down. I stayed in bed, sniffling, and my mom came upstairs with a cup of coffee for me. 'Are you okay now?' She asked me. I didn't say anything, just reached for that fucking cup and downed it.

The trip lasted roughly four hours. In hindsight, it was a disaster before it even happened. I ate way too many, the environment and the people were shit, and I think I had a really bad reaction to them. I've never thrown up so much in my life.

For a good six months after this, I was severely depressed. I couldn't smoke without getting panic attacks, I didn't hang out with anyone. I just sat around, thinking about the experience and what it meant, if anything at all. I went to therapy and was diagnosed with PTSD. It was a slow recovery, and when I felt ready to try psychedelics again, I used extreme caution and planned it out as best I could. I took a hit of acid with some wonderful people and had a perfect trip.

As for mushrooms, never EVER again. I can't imagine anything worse than truly believing you're dead. The first panic attack I had, I convinced my friend to bring me to the ER. Everyone in the waiting room looked so sad, and I thought I was dead again, and that I was in limbo or something, waiting to be sent to either Heaven or Hell.

My experience was extreme, and I regret it. Don't be stupid about serious shit is the lesson, I guess.

Exp Year: 2013	ExpID: 104465
Gender: Female
Age at time of experience: 19
Published: Mar 26, 2021	Views: 1,278
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