Citation: Polytruce. "More Than I'd Bargained For: An Experience with LSD (exp105294)". Erowid.org. Jun 29, 2019. erowid.org/exp/105294
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Let me preface this by saying that this was not my first rodeo. I had tripped on various substances more times than I could count, and subsequently I'd gotten lazy. Careless, even. I smoke cannabis almost on the daily, but I rarely drink and only on occasion have I ever taken pharms, even those prescribed to me. I thought I could handle whatever it was that I was getting myself into, and didn't bother to think that I may be overestimating my capabilities.
It all started about four months prior, when a friend and roommate (who I'll refer to as 'J') asked me if I would like to put down a fairly sizable amount of cash for what he referred to as 'a huge ass vial of acid.' I had no choice but to oblige. Over the course of those four months, the two of us, along with some other friends and roommates of ours had plenty of exciting and meaningful experiences catalyzed by the contents of this vial. On this particular day however, it was just me doing the tripping, and it was the last of it.
I got home excited for what I thought was going to be another great experience. I had somehow gotten through the last of my exams, and this was a little treat for myself. A celebration of my liberation from academia for another few weeks. As I walked into my room, I shut off the lights, locked the doors, and drew the blinds. I didn't want anyone barging in on my little ritual, even though I had informed J of my intent to trip that day.
I opened up my fridge and pulled out the vial wondering if I could even get the last bits of the stuff out. The dropper was too short by maybe a millimeter, and after a solid twenty minutes of struggling to get it out of the container I finally managed to coax the liquid into the dropper, which I quickly transferred to myself.
[T+ 0:00] 2 drops liquid LSD
Satisfied with my efforts and feeling as though I had just made some great achievement, I settled into my couch and waited for the acid to hit me. I hadn't made any plans for this trip, as I wanted to see where it would take me if I let it. I'd had trouble with 'letting go' in the past, and I felt that I was always trying to control my trips rather than experiencing them for what they were.
At this point J stopped by to ask me how I was doing, and to let me know that he would be having a few friends over that night, and they would be having their own little celebration with mountains of weed. He invited me to join, and I accepted, so we headed outside to smoke some weed in advance. I weighed out and ground 1.5 grams of Star Fighter I'd bought from the dispensary the day before, which we loaded into a massive bowl piece we had affectionately named the 'Bowl of Kings.'
[T+ 0:30] ~ 6 hits of Cannabis
Upon arriving outside, I noticed the usual 'coming up' feeling I get whenever I take psychedelics. We sat down on the stairs out back and passed the bong back and forth for what felt like an eternity. After my third or fourth hit I noticed that the visuals I usually associate with strong marijuana intoxication were far more vivid than I had ever seen before. I saw what looked like an infinity symbol floating around in the corner of my vision, appearing then disappearing frequently. It was green and black, the insides of the two cavities not being cavities at all, but rather more layers of the shape, in alternating stripes. Along with this I saw what I like to call the 'Golden Static' which I usually get to varying degrees when I smoke weed, but it also was far more vivid than on the weed alone. It encompassed my whole vision with a fireworks display of beautiful yellows, golds, and even blues. By the time I realized that I was focusing on these visuals rather than on smoking the bong, my trip was in full force.
J and I finally headed inside, after he decided he couldn't smoke anymore before his friends arrived. When I passed through the threshold into the house however, I felt as if I was completely sober again. I didn't even feel the weed anymore. I made my way to the bathroom to check my pupils, and sure enough they were dilated. I sat around waiting for the trip to come back, disappointed a little. At this point I started to wonder if I had taken enough, which is a sign to me that I was indeed still tripping. I'm usually extremely cautious when it comes to re-dosing, as I usually try to convince myself that less is more.
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This is where I made my mistake.
I went back into my room, still feeling way too sober for being on two hits of acid, looking for the vial. After I located it, I saw there was still some material clinging to the sides of the container, almost like a residue of some sort. In my not-so-apparently befuddled state, I decide to get at what was inside the vial. I poured a small amount of distilled water into the vial, and after a moment's hesitation, drank the water from inside.
I poured a small amount of distilled water into the vial, and after a moment's hesitation, drank the water from inside.
Satisfied that I would now start my trip, I walked out the the living room where J was happily enjoying some Cheetos.
Upon sitting down I realized my mistake. The trip was back, and it occurred to me that I had no idea what sort of dosage would have been left in the container. I let J know what I did, and he suddenly became quite a bit more serious, having had a fairly intense and overwhelming experience himself in the days prior. He started to assure me that all would be well, and that what was done was done. I had to simply float downstream.
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Having sat on the couch admiring the art on the walls for the greater part of an hour, I started to feel the trip intensify far beyond the peaks I was used to. The floor started morphing in waves, and the walls dripped a shimmering ooze beyond any sort of explanation. I felt my mind take off on thousands of different thoughts that felt as if they were happening simultaneously. I watched J move about the room, and his movements seemed to have a shuttering effect. Every time he would move say, his head, I would see one side make the move, then be followed by the other only after it had completed moving. This freaked me out, and I started to wonder exactly how hard I would be tripping in say, six hours or so.
I felt a crippling fear growing inside me, and knew that this would not be a fun experience.
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I made my way back to my room in an attempt to segregate myself from the festivities that were about to begin out in the living room. I could handle people on lesser doses, but this was far too much. It was at this point that I lost track of time completely.
I began talking to myself in attempt to calm myself down, but to no avail. I began weeping as the thought of losing myself to this... monster became more and more real. I was afraid. More than I can possibly ever describe. I had reoccurring visions of my soul leaving my body, trying to escape the chaos within, only to be pulled back inside by what I could only assume was this monster.
Through all the chaos and internal violence that I was feeling, a voice started to console me, telling me that everything was okay, that I would make it. That I was only temporarily under this affliction, and that it would pass if I listened with the intent of learning. Each time it spoke, flashes of beautiful crimson light came flying out of the walls, fading with the voice. The voice spoke to me over the course of the next two hours, the topics ranging from my current plight to the plight of the Earth, my insecurities, and ultimately about love.
Over time I began to recognize the voice, and as the feeling of recognition grew, so did a feeling of sadness and loss. I was confused about this as I had a complete turn around of my previous condition, no longer gripped with fear but instead an overwhelming tranquility. I felt that I should ask the voice of its identity, but something inside me told me that I should let the subject rest, which only stoked the fires of my curiosity.
I finally mustered up the courage to ask, which I did. But I didn't need a response, and I would not get one. The voice was that of my girlfriend who had passed away about a year prior.
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As I slowly came down, I pondered over what I'd seen, felt, and heard. I do not consider myself a religious person, nor a particularly spiritual one, but I was shaken by what had taken place.
I do not consider myself a religious person, nor a particularly spiritual one, but I was shaken by what had taken place.
I shed more tears, and slowly fell sleep. After I awoke, I could not, and still cannot make sense of the events of that night. My memory is fragmented, and only bits come to me even as I write this.
I've since taken psychedelics far more seriously, and exercise extreme caution when deciding on dosage. I've visited her grave site on multiple occasions since, and to this day I still remain compelled to believe that the voice I heard was indeed hers. Though I will never know for certain.
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