Mushrooms - P. cubensis
Citation: Montucky. "Bad Idea, but Too Desperate to Care: An Experience with Mushrooms - P. cubensis (exp113033)". Erowid.org. Apr 12, 2019. erowid.org/exp/113033
I've been smoking pot since I was 13 on a daily basis, save for a few 1-4 month breaks here and there. It's been one of the few things I had to look forward to. I loved everything about it, the smell, the plants, crumbling up a nug and packing it into a bowl, smelling my fingers afterwards, it was heaven for me, and I thought I needed it.
I had spent my whole childhood moving from town to town. I had no friends, nothing made me happy, and I had been constantly bullied by my peers. At one point near the end of 8th grade, I was smoking 2-3 grams a day (might not be much for the reader, but a lot for me). I tried stopping for a few weeks and felt like shit, so I continued through the summer.
Then high school came around. We had moved back to a town we lived in a few years ago so my dad could work at a school in a nearby town. My dad wanted me to join Speech and Debate, and I agreed as long as I could still smoke. But there was a catch. Because of well-meaning but ignorant anti-drug initiative on the school's part, they had to drug test us for every student activity, meaning I couldn't smoke pot. This devastated me.
I pleaded my dad to let me quit, but he said no. I was pissed at this. I knew I needed to get high somehow, but I didn't know how. Then I noticed the bag of mushrooms in my dad's room. I snuck in, opened the bag, and pocketed some. I went for a walk on a golf course, deserted since it was mid-October, nowhere near the tourist season. I ate a small stem and a cap, waited a bit, and walked back home. When I went back to my room, I started to feel funny. Everything seemed different somehow, I noticed a pulsing, static-like pressure in the back of my head, and I spent a half hour laughing my ass off making funny faces in the mirror. When my dad opened the door is when things started to get messed up.
"Hey ******, can you do a few chores?"
I vacuumed my room, folded and put away my laundry, and cooked dinner all while tripping. I ate another mushroom after that. It was certainly not a good idea. My dad burst into my room, yelling at me about stealing his weed. He searched my room while I flushed the joints I was saving for after the drug test down the toilet in the next room. He apologized for the intrusion after he found nothing, and went to his room. A few seconds later, I hear him yell “******, GET OVER HERE RIGHT NOW!” just as I was hitting the peak.
Before you know it I was being yelled at and grilled by my dad trying to make me throw up while the floor tiles were moving and the walls were breathing. I was absolutely terrified. After I threw up I started breaking down crying. My dad realized he may have been a bit too harsh with me. He put me on the couch and rubbed my legs while I got the rest of the fear out of my system. I told him about everything, my suicide attempt, my sexuality, and any other shit I had inside. He told me about how his mom used to do the same thing when he came home drunk late at night. After that, we sat on the couch eating popcorn and watching funny cartoons.
I feel like that trip changed me. Ever since then, i've been less superficial and materialistic. I also understood the value of sobriety, and how taking a break can be a good thing. I got my shit together and had more success in my high school career than I ever thought I would have. I still smoke pot and have had a few more mushroom trips since then, along with DXM and LSA, but I have been far more careful with drugs since then.
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