Citation: David99852. "No Knowledge=Bad Trip: An Experience with Mushrooms (exp11417)". Erowid.org. Oct 14, 2019. erowid.org/exp/11417
I grow my own mushrooms, pick them, and I sometimes eat them, I sometimes sell them. I know it's not the best idea if you're not a 'professional shroomer' or something, but I have a substantial amount of experience in identifying and using shrooms, so I feel safe in this activity. However, after my last experience with my mushrooms, I may quit taking shrooms all together.
I had been growing shrooms at my house for about a week (a new group of them). There were six, fairly large, orange-capped mushrooms growing. I was planning on giving them to my pot dealer, as I owed him money (how strange for a drug user to owe money), however, I decided that since I had not had a crop of shrooms in a while, I would go ahead and take them myself and let my dealer wait. I had been waiting for the shrooms to each grow to their fullest size, but I finally gave up and decided to pick them after a week of serious growth. I went to my bedroom, sat down with all six shrooms after cleaning them off thoroughly, and weighed them out each separately. I had 230 grams of fresh shrooms. I decided that I wanted to trip nuts, so I went ahead and cut them all up, poured myself a large glass of orange juice, and started chewin/washin them down.
After I got done with all the stems and 4 of the 6 caps (180mg fresh), I could barely hold it all in. The mere sight of the remaining caps made me nauseated. So I decided to go downstairs and take a shower while I waited for the trip to start. When I stood up (20 minutes after starting eating the shrooms) I could already tell I was tripping. I thought little of it and took my shower, however, when I came out, I was tripping balls. I found this rather unsettling, as usually it takes an hour to an hour and a half for me to feel the effects of shrooms, and those times I'm chewing the shrooms up very fine. Here I was just swallowing chunks. I sat down on my bed and thought, 'Oh shit. I think I took way too many. Fuck.'
I sat down on my bed and thought, 'Oh shit. I think I took way too many. Fuck.'
then I thought 'oh NO! I can't have a bad attitude at this point. That'll destine me for a bad trip. I'm gonna have a great time tonight, great time, great time...' and I thought this over and over and over, but unfortunately, I never really believed it.
After about 20 minutes of sitting on my bed, terrified, tripping balls, telling my parents to leave me alone, and dreading the inevitable, I decided it came down to one point: I obviously wasn't physically or mentally prepared for this trip. I had to not experience it somehow. My only choices were to A) tell my parents I took too many shrooms and needed to go to the hospital, or B) go lay in my bed and tough it out through the night, and feel better the next day. Well, I thought, 'fuck option A. I'll tough it out.'
That night was the worst night of my life. I couldn't sleep for fear, discomfort (full-body), and nausea. I vomitted violently into the toilet about an hour after going to bed. I kept hearing voices; people laughing in the room next to me, children crying, a woman calling my name desperately -- I'm still getting chills down my back. The woman calling me... She sounded like she was filled with absolute terror, it changed me. I was so frightened. I would've called out back to her if only I hadn't been so afraid. The gigantic american flag in my bedroom kept flapping in the breeze. I had thought it was just the wind from my fan, until I rolled over and saw that my fan wasn't on. Every time I would finally drift off to sleep I would be woken abruptly by someone strumming a guitar right next to me. Not a harmonic kind of strum, no melody, more violent. Like someone holding the neck of the guitar and dragging their nails across the strings just to make noise.
The next day I was so cracked out. I was totally depressed and still in shock from the night before. I was happy to be alive. I smoked some pot that day and got a whole bunch of negative flashbacks from the night before, but since then it hasn't been bad hardly at all. But still, whenever I sit on my bed or lie in my bed awake now I always get that feeling of expectancy, that feeling like you know you're just gonna burst into full-blown hallucination any second, like when you're coming up on dirty acid.
Anyway, the point is, I should've thought about how much I was eating. I didn't even think about a bad trip as being an option. I should have also tested the shrooms to see how potent they were. If they had been more potent I might've lost my fucking mind.
I'll do shrooms again, I'm sure. But not anytime soon, that's for damned sure.
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