Citation: Suburban Dad. "The Big It: An Experience with 1P-LSD (exp110716)". Erowid.org. Jul 30, 2017. erowid.org/exp/110716
||Alcohol - Beer/Wine
| T+ 0:00
||(blotter / tab)
| T+ 0:17
||(blotter / tab)
| T+ 0:25
Subject: 47 year old suburban dad. Occasional pot smoker, and outside of trying S. Divinorum a couple of times years ago, completely inexperienced with psychedelics this trip was much stronger than anything I've experience before. I'm in reasonably good physical and mental health.
Rationale: I'm stuck in a rut. Physically I'm tired all the time and I drink too much, and I've been reading up on the potential therapeutic values of psychedelics, in particular microdosing to improve mood and increase overall positive outlook.
Substances: 150+ mcg 1P-LSD, Cannabis, Alcohol
Caveats and Warnings things I got very wrong First, the decision to drop an entire dose was made at the last minute I thought 'okay, let's try a microdose before bedtime' but when I was carefully cutting up the tab, the thought possibly a result of the dis-inhibition from the beers I had consumed 'Hmm
what if I took an entire dose as a control for my experiment
' crossed my mind. Second, I volunteered my wife at the last minute (after I had dosed) to be my trip sitter she's always been game to my adventures, but she's never trip sat before.
I later regretted being so cavalier, but I'm still alive and a day later I feel pretty good.
Conducted at around 23:10 on warm, breezy Friday evening:
T+00:00 I drop a small dose, maybe 1/4 of a tab.
T+00:15 While practicing guitar I feel a kind of sparkly surge, and colors start to pop out.
T+00:17 I decide 'Let's just push the throttles to the stops' and I drop the entire dose. I'll have a nice trip and wake up in the morning refreshed (In retrospect: hahaha, nope.)
T+00:25 I recruit my wife to be my sitter in exchange for a back massage. I smoke some cannabis extract.
T+00:27 as the smoke kicks in I notice the colors in the room are really, really bright. A mug full of pens and pencils shines out prominently, taking on a larger than life quality. My headphones sit on top of my black backpack on the floor and it looks like some kind of robotic black beetle, and it begins breathing!
T+00:35 I give my wife a back massage, and we're both tired, so we turn out the lights to go to sleep. I think. I'm not sure exactly as the sequence of events begin happening really fast at this point, and the flow of time becomes so incredibly warped that piecing it all together is impossible, so I'll simply jot down some of the 'highlights':
The first part of the trip is composed of a repeating scene: it is dark in the room, and the ceiling fan causes a strobing effect, and there are crackling pulses of lightning that seem to adorn the living and breathing walls and windows. Then I get sucked into what is like an erotically charged scene from a film-noir movie: there's an androgynous Latin American character wearing a fedora (I can't 'see' this person but I can still 'see' them somehow). The character turns to face me and there are incomprehensible cursive letters that flash in front of me like bright neon tubes and my entire body feels ecstasy! I see the tips of ecstatic lightning bolts like brightly outlined finger tips racing through me. This exact scene happens many more countless times the figure in the fedora in a darkly lit smoky room, against variously grayscale backgrounds, the neon, the lightning ecstasy.
I'm back in my room and the curtains are breathing in and out and crackling with blue light in the darkness. I look at the clock radio and the numbers are stretched out forever and ever, but I make out the time 12:30AM which means all of this timeless ecstasy took place within the first hour and twenty minutes.
all of this timeless ecstasy took place within the first hour and twenty minutes.
At this point there are other, different things, quickly racing bursts of conceptual, visual, sensory incomprehensibility.
I seem to remember briefly snapping out of it, turning on the light, and thinking to myself, 'I really need to smoke weed!' I vaped up and turned out the light and fell back into the experience.
I begin to conceptualize words for what I'm experiencing along the lines of: this is The Trip. This is the 'Big It'. Everything about the Big It leads back to the Big It. All concepts, all everything, is the Big It. I laugh out loud at one point because a sharp distinct voice in the room declares boldly, almost shouting: 'All roads lead to only one thing: 1P, 1P, 1P, LSD, LSD, LSD!' I find this notion hilarious!
And finally I admit to myself 'I'm on an acid trip!' and I find this immensely funny for some reason!
I get up to pee, and I see myself in the mirror. I'm half naked and I look rather like a naked mole rat or a Jerusalem cricket, pale, plucked from a hole, naked and afraid of being removed from the safety of an earthen den. And yet as I stretch out my arms and flex my muscles, for the first time in a long time, I accept myself, my core being, my flabby, aging body for what it is: a series of concepts and experiences briefly assembled around a very temporary flesh and blood organism. I wash my hands and drink a bunch of water, cold and refreshing. I notice the bathroom sink is pulsating and seems to have much more 'depth'. I can see splotches of dirt and filth and I note that I will clean them in the morning.
It's 2:35, and then it's 3:30 almost simultaneously.
Light from outside filtered through trees illuminates the ceiling, and it forms an immense and twisted and wooden face, rather like Groot's or Treebeard's. It pulsates and changes form and seems to smile at me. The Big It: All roads lead to LSD LSD LSD!
The ecstasy and joyful immensity of the experience are slowly replaced by nagging doubts. Every thought and concept becomes an object that magically pulsates and crackles with LSD. I think there's only LSD. All thoughts lead to LSD! It worries me that maybe this is all there is, that maybe the 1P-LSD will never stop.
Sometime in the night I take a shower. The water feels hot. The floor of the shower feels flimsy and mushy. I'm thinking deep thoughts but I can't articulate what they are.
I wonder if the Big It will ever stop. I have to 'wake up' in the morning and attend to my duties: fold the laundry, clean the house, and haul a bunch of furniture to Goodwill. And above all ACT NATURAL because for God's sake, you don't want the kids to know you're tripping fucking daisies on acid!
T+07:00 wife rouses me from a twilight nap and I feel perfectly normal! I'm back to baseline! I feel ready to take on the day!
Except that somebody has glued sheets of printer paper onto the ceiling and on the ceiling fan
and I don't understand what my wife is saying to me and she's wearing some kind of earthen mask, and I try to speak but all I can say is 'wow
I uhh.. uhh
' and then I realize 'I'm still on an acid trip! Oh no!'
T+07:50 The normal flow of existence goes on, but it's punctuated at regular intervals by the Big It. I've got that parched, headachey slightly hungover feeling from the beers, but only on acid! I've got to take a crap, but on acid! My stomach feels terrible, on acid. I've got things to do, but I'm on acid. The Big it. I stare out the window at the new dawn and fixate on a small bird house just outside hanging from the tree -- it's beautiful and a bit intimidating.
T+08:20 I attempt to use my laptop: it's like a remote metallic rectangle perched on my lap, and I'm amazed that this flat tiny useless metal postage stamp has occupied so much of my time over the past years. I begin to type some notes about my experience over the next couple of hours:
'Ordeals within ordeals within ordeals
Will it stop?'
'Wow. It goes on and on and on and on!'
'No rest for the wicked! As they
am I still yammering on?'
'And on and on and on and on!'
'Jebus face off!'
'And on and on and on. It meanders through and through, stubbornly refusing to be anything but It.'
T+09:50 I am in a maze of tiny little thought passageways, all alike. I begin to fold my laundry. At one point, the pile of laundry seemed to reach the ceiling. I'm folding, and my wife has been up cleaning the house. She talks to me and I try to hold a conversation but can only formulate single sentences. I am nowhere near baseline.
T+10:00 the kids are awake and I panic. I grab the cat and retreat back to my room. The cat purrs and purrs and calms my deeply worried mind. I re-read Albert Hofmann's original trip reports, and find a bit of solace this will in fact end some day.
T+10:20 AM Folding laundry; I haven't made a dent in it. I think what if someone is unfolding the laundry after I fold it? But I feel I ought to stay engaged, begin to do human things, as this might help release the Big It's hold on my fried brain. But every time I pause to focus on things, the worried thoughts cycle and cycle and cycle.
T+11:50 I go outside for the first time. It's cloudy and yet not too cold. It buoys me just a little bit, but I feel rather shaken and slightly haunted by the experience. I'm convinced I have made a very bad mistake I thought I was so cavalier dropping acid on the fly, but the acid has kicked my butt quite roundly.
T+12:10 I'm loading furniture into my truck. Keeping busy as it does in fact help with the cyclic worry, although damned this part of the trip is really hard!
T+13:10 it's better. I watch some TV, which is very hectic and jarring to my nerves.
T+13:50 soccer game on TV, but wife says you've got to go to Goodwill now!, and so I resolve to do it. Concepts and words are still crackling with the Big It, but sitting in the cab of the truck brings back another layer of my humanity, and I do a trial drive around the neighborhood and find that I can drive just fine. It's rather fun! The town looks all new and shiny. The clouds are really pretty.
Driving while intoxicated, tripping, or extremely sleep deprived is dangerous and irresponsible because it endangers other people. Don't do it!]
T+14:50 feeling much more human, but far from baseline. Thoughts are still curly-cued, Concepts still crackle. Big It lurks in shadows. Soccer game is infinitely interesting and yet a bit jarring.
T+15:50 Kids want to see new Alien movie. Bolstered from the drive and the game I agree.
T+16:50 Alien: Covenant is horrifyingly brutal and jarring and I have to leave the theater a couple of times to calm my mind.
T+19:10 at home, I am able to take a small 10 minute nap finally! I wake up refreshed, and get some fast food for the family. The food is rubbery and tasteless, but it's the first food I've eaten since the previous night.
T+21:50 I am still going strong, feeling much better. At a concert of amazing local cellists. The music is sparkly and beautiful. I tear up a bit. This feels great!
T+23:40 a nice small dinner and a cocktail. Food tastes simply wonderful. I try to recount to my wife the immensity of the experience, which is now cemented in my mind as This Most Super Awesome experience.
T+24:10 finally to bed. Not quite baseline there's a faintly dizzy quality to every thing. I'm tired and sleep quite well.
Summary: I do not yet understand the experience, i.e. was it helpful, was it a hindrance? I do know the things I got wrong: I was cavalier and I should've shown more respect for the substance. I should've had a proper sitter.
Will I do it again? At the time, I had thought 'Hell no, I'm never going to do this again
' but in retrospect, despite the long slog at the end, I'm rather deeply touched by the whole thing, enough to the point where I might, on some much less busy, much more distant weekend, plan for it.
One thing I've realized is that you experience this on the 1P-LSD's terms, not yours. You are its guest, not the other way around. The world you experience is through It.
Takeaways: I feel new, refreshed. I feel like my thoughts are kinder, my appreciation for life is much simpler.
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