Citation: Hookah Phil. "Extremely Angry at Myself for Eating 5 Grams: An Experience with Mushrooms (exp73451)". Erowid.org. Aug 2, 2018. erowid.org/exp/73451
The Absolute Worst Trip Ever...
Being a high school senior, I have done several types of drugs in my life. Ranging from weed, to salvia divinorum, to mushrooms, to LSD, and even to ecstasy. Having tried mushrooms several times in the past, I decided to buy 10 grams of dried psilocybe cubensis mushrooms. Without having any problems with my previous trips, which ranged from 2-4 grams, I decided I was ready for a heavy dose of 5 grams. Having a history of severe clinical depression the harboring of active suicidal thought, and having taken antidepressants for nearly 2 years, I was only slightly nervous about possibly having a bad trip, but I had tripped after my traumatic experience and had been fine.
I was alone with my sister, K, for the day. I woke up at 8:30 am rather excited about using mushrooms. I also close to a half ounce of weed, so after my trip, if I had time, I was planning to have a couple friends over and smoke a bit. My mother was planning to come home at 3:00 pm and I had cross country practice at 2:30. I figured that 5 and a half hours would be sufficient time for a heavy mushroom trip. Little did I know, the mushroom trip I was so excited about was about to take a turn to hell; a turn to the completely unspeakable horrors of true hopelessness and utter terror.
Having a positive outlook on the trip to come, I consume 5 grams of dried mushrooms on an empty stomach. Of the 5 grams consumed, there was a healthy amount of caps, and a decent amount of stems. The taste of mushrooms bothers me, but I figured the best way would to eat them would be to just grit my teeth and chomp all 5 grams down plain. I had a glass of Gatorade next to me, but I only took a sip or two when I was done just to wash out that disgusting taste. I also figured that with an empty stomach they would kick in faster, and hopefully be stronger. After eating all 5 grams, I was really excited and couldn’t wait for the mushrooms to kick in. I was ready to trip.
I am sitting in my room talking to K and listening to music. I begin to feel a bit happy and giggly, as if I had smoked a bowl or 2 of marijuana. K informs me that she needs to drive to her work in order to pick up checks and cash them at the bank. At this point I figure, why not go? It’s not like I’m gunna be driving. Without giving it much thought, we go downstairs and head towards the car.
As we start to pull away, I begin to look at the trees and clouds outside and they start swaying, spiraling, and coming to life. I start to get really excited that the visual hallucinations associated with mushrooms have already kicked in and are coming on even stronger.
We reach K's work, and at this point, the visuals are absolutely clouding my perception of the world around me. Everywhere I looked there was this single spiral pattern that resembled spirals often seen in recursive geometric algorithms called 'Fractals'. Now I am very excited and I realize just how strong this trip is going to be. We start to drive towards the bank, and K is eating a bag of Oreos, drinking an iced tea, and texting while driving. I begin to get pissed off at K because it feels like we're swerving all over the road. I start flipping out at shouting, “You need to get me home, you NEED to get me home.” K retorts with, 'Chill out we still have to go to the bank'.
We arrive at the bank and at this point I have completely lost my sense of depth perception. It was a very uncomfortable feeling just to sit in my car and wait for K to emerge form the bank. It felt almost as If my torso was slipping down into my thighs. My body starts quiver a bit and I begin to work up a sweat. Also, a pretty horrible stomach ache has developed. I feel as if I am about to vomit. What was about several minutes seemed like perhaps several hours, and finally and K returns to the car. (I know the cliché stereotypical component of tripping, minutes seem like hours, but for those of you reading this who have indeed tripped before, you can relate the feeling.) As we begin to drive home, I am starting to become really nervous. K is still texting and driving and there’s loud music playing. The music starts to irritate me so I shut it off. K turns it back on which bother me, but we arrive home and I am thankful to be out of any sort of public place.
It’s now been over an hour and the visuals are still intensifying. I attempt to get on my computer to put some trippy music on, but I could not use the mouse to save my life. At this point I start to get a bit nervous. I start thinking to myself, this is only getting stronger, am I gunna be alright by the time my mother comes home? Thinking this thought and asking this question was probably what triggered the hell that was to follow. Even putting the idea of getting caught into my mind was a terrible mistake and I suffered the consequences.
Even putting the idea of getting caught into my mind was a terrible mistake and I suffered the consequences.
I start to get incredibly anxious. I just get up and start walking around aimlessly, pacing between the room where my stash is, my room, K's room, and the bathroom. I then realize that there is a half ounce of weed on the floor in K’s room. Realistically, this was not a problem at all, but the problem was I couldn’t fit this large amount of weed in my stash box. I start to freak out and I run into K's room shouting, “What the fuck are we going to do with this weed?” K replies, “I don’t know it’s your weed you take care of it.” This was also another component that could have contributed to the bad trip. I realize I have no where to put my weed, any drawer in my room would have done, but again, having been tripping shrooms, this idea seemed as if it was stupid, and would not work. I continue to pace around and progressively thinking things were going to go wrong.
I start to feel very ill right now, as all of this is happening the visual hallucinations have progressed to their peak. My balance also went form bad to worse, at this point, I find it difficult to even try and stumble on my feet. I fall to the ground and crawl to my bed and tell K that I really need to take a nap. As soon as I light down, I feel the sudden urge to vomit, so I stumble to the bathroom as best I can knocking into several walls on the way, and nearly trampling my cat. I feel my throat tighten up and then I gag a bit, but there is no vomit. Feeling as if I might have to vomit at any minute, and taking my greatly hindered balance into consideration, I decided to just sit on the toilet and take a piss. As I get up to leave and walk away, I realize that my shorts are still at my knees, and I stumble to the ground. The act of pulling my shorts up was a task that seemed impossible. I couldn’t stand up and I tried to pull them up while lying on the floor on my back. Keep in mind all this time the visuals are making it very hard for me to focus on anything besides how intriguing they look. Finally I make it back to my room.
I call K to my room because I feel as if I’m actually in trouble. I remember hearing my dealer tell me not to take more than 3 grams because this batch of mushrooms was rather strong. I begin to feel as if my body is going to give out and I am going to die. My heart is racing and I begin to breathe heavily. K asks me if I am alright and I lash out at her screaming, I am not fucking alright, this was a fucking terrible idea. K asks what’s wrong and I can’t describe any problem besides the weed on the floor. (I left out the feelings of death because my and K are very close and her reaction to my previous emotional troubles had created awkward tension between us both.)
I get a call from my friend, C. He's outside my house and wants me to let him in. I carefully make my way down the stairs and let him in. C asks, “How ya doing buddy?” My only response was, “I'm doing awful this was a terrible fucking idea.” C asks what’s wrong and I explain the weed problem which really wasn't a problem at all. He laughs at me and says, “How is having too much weed a problem?” I don't like the fact that everybody is telling me that I am wrong. I go back upstairs and K leaves my room to go smoke weed with C. I lay down and K tells me to relax. I lie down, and immediately spring back up insisting that everything is not all right. I go to K's room and the weed is gone. I think to myself, “Holy shit I just lost 14 grams of weed somewhere in my house and my parents are going to find it before I do.” I begin pacing around and my thought of dying is greatly intensified.
I hear several cars pull into the driveway. Then I hear fragments of K's voice saying '.....he's upstairs.....5 grams of mushrooms.....flipping out......hospital...' Hearing hospital completely sent me into the disaster portion of my trip. I was convinced that my sister was talking to a police officer or an EMT. I was sure that an officer was about to come walking up the stairs to detain me. My friend C and my sister K both had large amounts of weed in their possession as well as me; however, I didn't know where my weed was. I imagine that the cops have searched C and K and have arrested them. I wait and wait and wait for someone to come up the stairs and all I can think about is how I fucked over C and K with my stupid antics. I convince myself that it was my fault and I knew that somehow, I was going to have to kill myself by the end of the trip.
As soon as I perceived that thought, I remembered my depression and suicidal thoughts. I realize that the trip is making them come back and they are stronger than ever. I begin saying terrible things aloud, (i.e. I just need to fucking die, I just need to end it all, I fucked over C and K and the only way I can be redeemed is through suicide.) I make a secret pact to kill myself, vowing to end this day with death no matter what. Whether it meant slitting my wrists, overdosing on pills, or confronting one of the police officers that I thought was downstairs, attacking him, taking his gun and blowing my head off. I determined that the easiest way would be to just get in my car and drive as fast as I could into another car head on. Then I thought to myself I have to ruin another person’s life to remedy my own. (Trust me; you're in a bad place when the only way of remedying your life is through death.) After I understood that I was going to die no matter what, I began to dwell on everything that I've done all my life, and all the people's life I was going to ruin. I pictured all of their accomplishments, all their joyous moments, everything they have, completely stripped away. Every time they smiled, every essay they wrote for school, all their families’ happy moments, I felt as if I had ruined everything. After my death I pictured my parents life ruined, all the lives of my relatives ruined, and then I pictured the cops searching my room after I died and searching through my computer and my texts trying to find out what happened to me that would make me commit suicide. I pictured them detaining all of the people whom I had sent text massages to about weed and other illegal shit and questioning them. I pictured everyone feeling no sorrow after my death. I felt as if everyone would think 'what a fuck up, all he did was ruin everything for everyone.'
Having all of these horrible thoughts had put me in a fit of anger, rage, and sadness. I was in my room just waiting for my mom and dad to come home and come upstairs with the cops. I pictured that being my moment to strike. My moment to lash out. My moment to go apeshit psycho and fuck everything up. My moment to get that gun, and scream fuck you to my mother, fuck you to my father, and fuck everyone, then pulling the trigger and ending it. At this point I realize that I am probably the worst person on this earth. The most slimy, criminal, fuck up that ever lived. I felt as if I didn't deserve anything in my life. I thought of all my accomplishments, I thought of all the work I had done in my life, just wasted. I pictured the whole world was mad at me. I pictured all my dealers, and all my friends, and all my acquaintances thinking, 'Why the fuck did we waste our time with that guy? That guy who just went and fucked everything up.' I begin to trash my room. I throw my pillow around and rip the blankets off my bed. I grit my teeth and tense up all the muscles in my body and let out shrieks of rage that were never meant to be heard by anyone. I almost felt as if I was possessed by the devil himself. And I then started to think about religion. And what was going to happen after I died. Was I gunna go to hell? Or was there was gunna be nothing at all? Just a cease of existence...
Finally someone comes up the stairs. It's C and K and they have been smoking for a while. They seem to not be understanding the severity of the situation at hand. I told them that I was having a terrible trip and it seemed that instead of comforting me, they were trying to just prove me wrong all the time. I just started to cry as I looked a C and K thinking to myself, these are two great kids, and I ruined everything for them. I never shared with them my thoughts of death and my secret pact of suicide because I knew as soon as I said that, they would both remember my depression problems, and seriously fear for my life. I didn't want them to try and save me, I just began to say, 'You guys do whatever you need to do not to get caught, just leave me, and remember me.' C and K were confused at why I could not relax. There was awkward tension in the room and neither C nor K new what to do or say. I remember them both saying, 'We need to do something to snap him out of this bad trip.' C tells me a story about how he had a bad trip once and he listened to Bob Marley and it snapped him out of it. K put on some Bob Marley but my speakers were not hooked up because I had fucked with them when I was trashing my room. K speaks with a tone that seems distressed and again I'm triggered into thinking I ruined her life. K is a great student at Johns Hopkins University and I just fucked everything up for her.
Even after 4 hours, visuals are ridiculously strong; at this point I am just begging the trip to end. I start sincerely apologizing to C and K and they both still have a positive outlook and I am so confused at why they can think everything is all right. K googles how to come out of a bad trip. I think this is the worst idea ever and I shut the laptop. Once again K gets angry and it feels like she is on the offense again. I just back up into my sliding closet door and knock it off its tracks. I can see that it is broken. At this point, I start to come out of that bad trip. Now I start dwelling on how my mom is going to be home soon and I have to go to cross country practice, and we need to see if we can actually fix this situation. Now I realize that I'm not going to die, and I no longer want to kill myself, but I still have thoughts that even if we get everything fixed and put away, I'll never be able to live the same way, I feel as if it’s always gunna be awkward between me, C, and K, and I think that all of my friends are no longer going to want to chill with me ever again. I feel like everyone will always think I'm a fuck up; however, I begin to relax a little, I do my best to fix the door, and all this time I realize I’m wearing my pajamas. So I tell C and K that I think I’m alright now and I change into some clothes. As I go downstairs, with my room all cleaned up, and my weed located (it was outside on the deck), I begin to feel the exact opposite of what I was feeling before. I felt as if this was now the greatest day ever.
I begin to feel the exact opposite of what I was feeling before. I felt as if this was now the greatest day ever.
I went outside and me, C, and K smoked a few splifs and a few bowls. K's friend M also came. C and K explained what happened and M thought it was rather funny. Thinking about it now, some things I said were quite funny. (I.e. K, my pants are flipping out right now. They're like a striped green string patterns or something.) I become extremely euphoric after smoking the high quality weed that we had and I remember saying, 'C, I'm still getting crazy visuals and the bad part is over!' We all start to laugh and have a good time because C, K, and M are all stoned and I'm tripping along fine.
We all go inside to get something to eat and I feel like I'm at the top of the world. I feel like it is the greatest day ever, and I remember shouting that at high volumes many times. Each time followed by an explosion of laughter from all my stoned buddies. At this point I begin to explain the trip myself to C, K, and M. I remember telling them everything (minus me suicide pact) and them I remember telling them how I was perfect right now.
We all go back out to smoke a bit more; at 2:25 pm K plans to drop me and C off at the school for cross country practice. So we smoke a bit more, and I’m still getting some alright visuals, even 5 hours after ingestion. We clean up all of the weed and get rid of all the ash everywhere and then we're on our way to the school. I roll the windows down and crank some music and I’m feeling mighty fine.
Cross country practice starts, I'm pretty stoned and I can still see those spiral patterns I described before in the trees, clouds, and even in my friends’ faces and hair. I describe the bad portion of the trip to J, M, and some other of my friends. They all think it was hilarious but I was still sensitive about what happened to me.
I am back from cross country just chilling in my room, and if I close my eyes, I can still see small traces of the spirals. I think to myself, wow, what a fucking day.
All in all I would have to say that the trip was a disaster, and I was extremely angry at myself for eating 5 grams on an empty stomach. But after I snapped out of the bad portion of my trip, all was well and I felt like a fucking king. For any of you reading this, I suggest you try mushrooms, but be careful, I suggest not eating any more than 4 grams and no more than 3 for your first time. Once again, I believe I can attribute the suicidal portion of my trip to my emotional crippling past, so if any of you have struggled with depression or strong thought of suicide, I would be careful and make sure to be with a trusted friend while tripping. Staying positive no matter what happens, that’s the key to a great trip. I hope this experience has both entertained and educated everyone who has read it. Good luck everyone, happy tripping, peace, and remember above all, cherish happiness. One love
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