Citation: Saskip. "The Point of It All: An Experience with LSD & Mescaline (exp106923)". Erowid.org. Jun 15, 2020. erowid.org/exp/106923
I awoke at around 6:30-7 to shower and clean the house a little bit for some better vibes (I'm a firm believer that a clean environment leads to better trips
I'm a firm believer that a clean environment leads to better trips
). My father leaves for work at around 8 AM usually (I'm a 19 year old student, so I am living with my father currently), so I planned to dose right around then so I could have the maximum amount of time to trip comfortably. My father wasn't feeling too great, so he ended up not leaving at the usual time. I got impatient at one point, and started sipping the mescaline, hoping that it would hit me right around his departure. This was at around 9:30 or so.
Just as the legend goes in fear and loathing, the mescaline HCl came on slow, then I started cursing the guy who sold it to me, and then...intensity. My entire body began to feel electric, my thoughts became clearer and much more meaningful, however the demonic grips of nausea began to overtake me. Of course, this was right about the time (10:30-11) my dad was leaving for work, and of course me being a polite family member I had to go see him off...on 750 mg of mescaline HCL. Luckily, the effects hadn't fully come on yet and I'm pretty adept at handling myself on drugs, so everything went off without a hitch. I imediately went to go lay down once again, my mind began asking itself philosophical questions as I opened my eyes and saw my ceiling sparkling and making beautiful designs.
This is when the nausea kicked into over drive, and no matter how strong my will power was, that shit was coming up whether I liked it or not. The purge was brutal but also very therapeutic. I began to worry that I puked a little bit too early, but then the effects began to take hold and I realized that all was good not only with the dose, but also with the world. I lit some incense, turned on the TV, and somewhat hesitantly dosed the 1000 ug of LSD.
I have taken 1000ug of LSD in the past, but I don't think it was on the same level as these tabs. After only a half hour or so, I was seeing noticeable differences (take note I was just starting to truly peak on the mescaline at the same time) The X-Men movie I was watching became impossible to follow, my thoughts went from smooth and introspective to chaotic and confusing, every single sound echoed in my mind, every ray of light shining brighter than it ever had before.
Literally before I knew it, another half hour had passed, and I was there. The Dead Zone. My ego was no more, completely eradicated and shut in a dark closet like a parent giving their child a time out. I was living, breathing, walking, perceiving...but I wasn't processing any of it. I felt like I was on a completely different plane; not only had my reality been warped, but I was in a completely different reality. I army crawled myself into my room (I couldn't really walk without tripping) and found my usual salvation, a pair of headphones to listen to music.
Navigating my computer to get to youtube and play music was nearly impossible, but the thought the peace of mind I would acquire once I got it playing kept me going. I went with one of my all time favorite bands for this trip, The Doors, the kings of psychedelic rock. I turned the volume up almost to the maximum, and fell flat on my floor. To say the music was beautiful is a criminal understatement, as our society has not evolved far enough to invent words that could even begin to describe the amount of joy this music was bringing to me. I was saying to myself aloud, absolutely marveled that something so incredible was possible to experience,'Are you kidding me? Are you KIDDING me?' Every single cell in my body erupted with firey pleasure from every sound of the headphones, every lyric was painfully deep. 'Is this heaven?' I asked myself, 100% serious.
I got a little more comfortable on the bed, and literally began crying tears of joy listening to the music. I closed my eyes and had a CEV of pitch black, but with a single line very similar to a heart monitor used in hospitals or a sound equalizer or w/e its called. Every strum of the guitar, beat of the drum, the line zig zagged, once again very similar to a heart beat monitor. This wasn't even music anymore, this was speech. The music was conversing with me, telling me its story, asking me about myself...I was not just feeling the sounds, I was relating to them. I began to understand why music like this was so popular back in the 1960s along with the acid wave. Everyone was like me on LSD, lost, confused, searching for their salvation. But these bands, these groups of revolutionaries, showed them the way. They connected with them through their musical talents, and have now left a lasting mark on civilization that will never be forgotten. Never in my life had I had such strong respect for music, and I will never again forget this lesson.
Not bored, but just curious, I took the headphones off and went to see what my headspace would be like without the music. I stumbled slowly into my living room, and genuinely was not sure where I was. I felt like I should be doing something, but I had no idea what it was. This is the part of LSD I fear, the part where I remove the headphones (the rose colored glasses for LSD as far as I'm concerned) and I must face my thoughts and day to day existence without the support of my already fragile ego.
I tried my best to face these demons, standing in the middle of my living room having the most intense battle of my life inside my own head. It was myself vs myself. Admittedly and IMO understandably, this got a little too difficult after a while, and I retreated back into my room where I began to lose myself in the music once again. I got a skype call on my computer, a friend of mine was asking me to play league of legends with him (a game I'm typically pretty good at, ranked diamond for those who know the game). Bad idea. I will never again try to play a video game that takes that level of micro and macro management at the same time on this amount of drugs again. We lost the game because I couldn't play correctly, which sent me on a downward spiral. I was sweating buckets, inconceivably stressed and riddled with feelings of guilt. Obviously, it was just a game and was completely meaningless, the people in the game didn't even give a fuck, but of course this wasn't clear to me at the time.
I started freaking out, and it became apparent to my friend over skype just how fucked up I really was. I had a thought that in order to better myself, I could tell him my thoughts which he could then relay to me when I was sober so I could better incorporate the experience later. The issue was explaining that I wanted him to do this and making him not think I'm just tripping balls and that it was actually important to me. This...wasn't possible. Eventually he left the call when I started babbling completely incoherent nonsense, which I understood, who could blame him.
I was so fucking hungry at this point, and all I had in my house were things that required preparation. I finally decided to make myself some cheeseburgers, which I had to do completely from scratch with ground meat, spices, and a frying pan. I know how dangerous it was to do anything with fire when I was this high, but I had little to no choice. It took me over a half hour because I kept forgetting what my next steps were, but I successfully seasoned the meat, made them into patties, cooked them and some buns in the pan, and melted some cheese on them.
I ate my fill, it was maybe 3-4 PM by now, even thought it had felt like an eternity. I started to feel lonely, and could tell that my peak was starting to fall off. This is where things would really start to get difficult. I put on netflix and wanted to watch something moderately upbeat to keep my spirits up, so I went with Parks and Recreation. As fun of a show, and has lighthearted as it is, I can't begin to tell you how watching this impacted me. Actually I kind of can, so let me try.
I am an extremely introverted person, and suffer from moderate social anxiety. Not to the point where I need to be locked in my house all day or I start shitting myself, but enough that it certainly discourages me from participating in society. Watching Parks and Rec somehow helped me come to the revelation of how important other people are to happiness, and that I shouldn't fear them like I do. Seeing these people with honestly pretty shitty jobs and constant challenges who are still happily living their lives in the company of their friends and family...it really touched me and made me re-evaluate my views on socialization.
I was already most of the way done with Parks and Rec when I started watching it, so I ended up finishing it in that one sitting. Kind of sad it was over, I had to find something else to occupy my mind before I went into another downward spiral. This was when I looked at the picture of Jim Morrison who is famous for being a rather handsome man on the video of their greatest hits album I had been listening to earlier, and began thinking about the ideal male form. I saw visions of statues of gods, began seeing visions of conception of all species ultimately ending with human conception. This is when I made the decision to take charge of my physique and broke down the mental barriers preventing me from making the changes to better my body.
I went into a spare room where we keep our gym equipment I previously rarely used, and went to town with the bench presses, sit-ups, and shoulder presses. It wasn't enough, my red hot youthful blood was pumping like it never had before, I needed more. I went for a jog which I literally hadn't done in years (naturally chubby, anxiety about people seeing an overweight guy running, and a medical condition all contributed to this), I just didn't care about any of it anymore, all I cared about was changing my life. I ran almost nonstop for a solid 15-20 minutes.I was still so fucked up, my heart was racing so fast that I genuinely believed at one point that I would collapse and have a heart attack...but I still didn't care. I had rested long enough, I had wasted enough time, if I were to collapse here and die then that would have been fine with me at that moment because I did it chasing after a dream I've had for years...to not only want a better life, but to truly take the steps to get there.
I did it chasing after a dream I've had for years...to not only want a better life, but to truly take the steps to get there.
To break through my inhibitions, to find my identity, to understand the meaning of this silly little life given to me by the universe.
As you can see, this was a pretty fucking intense run. When I was done, I managed to get myself back into my house and took a much needed shower as I had been sweating nonstop all day from the LSD, and now I was sweating even more. I got out, dried my hair because the feeling of wet hair was too strange to me at the time, and went to practice guitar with my newly found respect for music. I had already been trying to learn for a couple weeks, so I knew some basics. I strummed basic chords, and was just playing around with the guitar having a good time, I couldn't believe I was capable of creating such beautiful sounds.
My father called me and asked me if I wanted to go the market with him to get food for the week...I said yes, which was my second or third bad idea of the day. My father has a very short temper, and is a pretty depressed person overall. Most of the time he is a kind and enjoyable person to be around, but he gets very negative and worked up over very small things. He was not in a very good mood when I hopped in the car, and it was made worse when he learned that I hadn't hung up his shirts for him which he asked me to do as said goodbye to him earlier in the morning. I had a perfectly good reason for not doing it (I was tripping fucking balls when he told me and I was tripping 3 times as hard the rest of the day after that), but I didn't want to tell him that. He knows I smoke pot and have dabbled in psychedelics, but I just didn't want to tell him that I did it that day when he was already in a bad mood from a long hard day at work.
He got frustrated with me, and started saying very cynical things, and asking me if I was going to be capable to doing my college work or if I would just stay absorbed and brainwashed by my technology. (he doesn't particularly approve my gaming hobby) I tried to explain how sorry I was, but thats pretty hard to do on that dose of LSD when your heart was racing as fast as mine was from the stress this conversation was causing me, so I got kind of quiet. As we got out of the car, he mumbled some swears to himself and shouted that he would just do it himself and how he shouldn't have expected anything out of me.
This killed me, it would have bothered me whether I was high or not, but on 1000ug of LSD which was still going strong, it destroyed me. I managed to maintain my cool somehow, and he eventually calmed down. I wanted to get out of there as quickly as possible because I realized how high I still was, so I volunteered to go around the market and get the usual stuff which also allowed me to get some distance from him. Because of this I was able to avoid much conversation, which was good because I don't think I could have maintained one too well. After we got all the groceries, we went to the check out line.
Our groceries were being bagged, and the bagger was clearly sick. He covered his cough while bagging his groceries, but was still touching all our stuff as he bagged it, so the effort was kind of wasted. I didn't like this of course, but my father was very upset about it. As we talked out of the market he began cursing and yelling, saying they should take everything back and then go shop somewhere else. He then proceeded to go on a rant about how life is a losing battle, everything is pointless, the world is so fucked up and its only getting worse. It wasn't a fun car ride home.
Needless to say, this really fucked with my vibes. I was in the comedown stage of my trip so my mind was already weak, and this was certainly not helping. We finally got home and brought everything in, and I began putting the groceries away as fast as possible so I could say I was going to bed and retreat back to my room where I really should have stayed from the beginning. He stood in the kitchen with me as I put stuff away, continuing to rant about how shitty everything in his life and the world is. Then he realized that he grabbed the wrong cereal box (big fucking deal right) and lost his shit. I started to get really sick of all the negativity, it was just eating away at my already exhausted soul, so I kicked it into overdrive on putting the groceries away, which signaled to him that I was getting upset about something.
'WTF is wrong with you??!!!' he asked me, as I quickly looked up in fear. I kind of mumbled that I just didn't want to listen to all his bitching anymore (I said it more politely), and then he started to realize how he had been acting with me for the past hour and a half. He acknowledged that he was wrong and shouldn't have been so negative with me, apologized, and went to go lie down in his room while I finished the groceries which was a blessing from god at that point. I finished everything up, did the dishes to be safe, and told him I was going to bed. He apologized again for how he acted with me, and explained that he had a very long and torturous day at work, how goes through it day in and day out to put food on the table for us, and then only to see some guy cough all over 300 dollars of his hard work just rubbed him the wrong way.
I told him I understood and forgave him. I never said it was ok, because it wasn't in my opinion, but I did accept the apology. This brought some of my good vibes back, and also helped me realize how much I want to move on. I don't want to live in his house anymore, even if I am a student and there isn't really anything wrong with it. He is either best guy I know, or the worst, and the bad side just shows too often. The constant daily negativity is toxic to me, and the feeling of needing to live up to his standards cripples me even further. I came to the realization that it is time to make a change in more ways than one. I made the plan in my head to use some money I inherited from my grandfather's untimely death a few months back to get a car and pay for insurance until I was able to find a steady job. I was going to routinely exercise and work out, and make much more of an effort to socialize with friends. The goal was a new and better life, to write a story where I was the sole author.
I couldn't sleep that night, too many negative vibes mixed with the typical somewhat speedy aspect of LSD just made it impossible. I laid there contemplating life and its meaning, the universe and how insignificant each human is the grand scheme of things. How we are all just grains of sand on the beach of life. I was up all night, and at about 9 AM took some dabs to hopefully make myself tired...didn't work. I finally got a much needed night of sleep. The next day I had my monthly therapy session that my dad always insisted I attended. I told him about my trip since he is well aware I use substances, and explained to him all my revelations and goals I now had even 2 days later. I told him I was feeling so upbeat that I didn't even feel the need to come see him anymore. He was somewhat hesitant because he thought I was planning a lot all at once and the catalyst had been drugs, but he agreed with me. I felt that I had been going nowhere but up for a while, and he graduated me from treatment. My father was very proud of me, and offered to take me out to dinner for a nice meal to celebrate. Guess what...I declined him, went home, and ate a chicken breast with mixed vegetables on the side, and then worked out for over an hour.
Since my trip, I have made many changes to my life.
Since my trip, I have made many changes to my life.
I go to bed and wake up and more reasonable times, think carefully about every dietary choice I make, I exercise regularly, have significantly less social anxiety, and overall feel much more optimistic about the future. I've already lost almost 10 pounds just making these changes for a little under a week because of how much exercise I have been doing. I feel great! I can't remember the last time I felt so youthful, and the best part is that I still have so far to go. I absolutely can't wait to see how I look and feel after 3 months!
I don't want to be tethered anymore, I want to figure out who I am and who I can be. The cool thing about my life is that I am a blank canvas, I can paint my life any way I want to. I'm young and come from a decently well off family. I am intelligent and kind, and have to much to give to this world...I want my short time on this earth to mean something. The options are endless.
Claims of measured microgram dosages for LSD are usually unsupported. Quantitative measurements for LSD are very difficult to do and cannot be done casually. Without further detailed information about how the measurements were derived, it is reasonable to assume that most statements of microgram dosages of LSD on blotter or in microdots are either misinformed or overstated.]
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