Mushrooms - P. cyanescens
Citation: Plateau77. "December Is a Shitty Month to Be a Pine Tree: An Experience with Mushrooms - P. cyanescens (exp91134)". Erowid.org. Mar 29, 2013. erowid.org/exp/91134
I was a DARE poster child way back when. Just say no, blah blah blah. I spent the vast majority of my youth with mainstream society's big, fat, veiny cock lodged firmly in my rectum. Well, at least when it came to drugs. From the time I was seven until the time I reached my mid teens, I was bombarded with all kinds of propaganda about them. Through school mostly. I gobbled it all up like a vulture on a slowly decaying corpse. Not to mention that both my mother and stepfather had severe
problems. My stepfather with Ritalin and cocaine and my mother with opiates and benzodiazepines. Thankfully, I don't live with them anymore, they have long split up, and I'm currently residing with my father and two of my four siblings.
The aforementioned problems with my mother and stepfather took their toll on me as I was growing up. When I was thirteen I started to develop very extreme social anxiety. I had no idea what it was that I was feeling though, and it made me feel even more fucked up and that I wasn't worthy of being pissed on if I were on fire. It was bad. This continued to escalate and was often accompanied with some very fucking bad panic attacks. Not very fun.
When I was sixteen (I am eighteen now,) I started dating a girl who was involved in the rave scene. We aren't together anymore, but it was through partying with her that my vicarious interest in mind-altering substances was sparked. She didn't use any herself (supposedly) but every other fucker she knew was completely immersed in the drug world, either through using or dealing. Very often both.
I discovered pot a few months later, and loved it. I continued smoking and still do, though not nearly as much. I quickly graduated to alcohol, then over-the-counter codeine preparations. After codeine came cocaine, then DXM. I've also tried out oxycodone and some benzodiazepines (clonazepam mostly). I have done nitrous oxide (whippits) once. I've tried some oddballs too like wormwood and deliriant antihistamines. Last year I lived with my mother for a while and she eventually knew about all of this. However, even though she knew all I did was dabble in these, she got me lined up in an addictions counseling program. It's fucking retarded. Having gone through some serious depression before going to live with her, she figured it was the drugs and nothing
else could have caused it. Not even my rather fucked up and very unstable childhood. Fuck the fact I was freaking out and thinking of topping myself when I was thirteen and in the worst of my anxiety and depression.
To top it all off, I've been prescribed amphetamines for ADHD through this addictions counseling. What a fucking sick little irony, huh? But anyway, back to my previous drug experience. I've never abused the medicine but my dose gives me a nice buzz in the mornings. My latest experience with drugs also happens to be my first venture into the world of psychedelia. This was accomplished with the aid of psilocybin mushrooms. It was a weird experience. And the phrase '...it was cool' and any of its variants are bound to show up about a thousand times or so while I try to describe the trip. If it annoys you, I have a knock knock joke for you.
Who's there, you ask?
My friend, who we'll call Z, had tripped plenty of times before and knew I was interested in doing the same. Our plan was to pick up some acid for this occasion, but we ultimately decided that the shrooms would be a better choice. At least for right now. It turned out to be a great decision. Z came over to my place of residence with the mushrooms in a container paying homage to Toad from the Mario games. I thought this was fucking hilarious and comes into play during the trip. His time of arrival was bout 7:45 in the evening. We consumed the mushrooms immediately. A gram and a half or so each of some dried Psilocybe cyanescens
. They were some really fucking good shrooms I guess, and coupled with low our low/non-existent tolerances, the whole ordeal was surprisingly intense.
The primary location of the trip was in my bedroom. I didn't have much on my mind other than a tiny bit of everyday stress either, and I was in a good mood. Excellent timing. Anyway, we were sitting around my room, chatting and smoking cigarettes. Waiting. About twenty or so minutes after ingestion, I began to feel a very slight lightheadedness and my stomach tightened up a little. I started getting excited at this point, and had the giggles like a motherfucker. The lightheadedness continued escalating in intensity and the tightness in my stomach turned into a moderate case of nausea. I laid back on my bed and let the stupidest, most shit-eating grin cross my face. I could feel it starting. But exactly what 'it' was isn't really able to be described. I just knew I was in for a bit a ride.
Another twenty minutes or so passed and Z wanted to go smoke a joint. I declined but told Z to go ahead. He headed outside. I parked myself in front of my computer. A few minutes after he left I started to notice that objects were looking out of proportion in relation to the rest of the room. Also, lights took on a brighter color. There were some bouts of anxiety coming and going here too, but they soon disappeared. The nausea I was experiencing earlier also seemed to be non-existent by this point as well. Which was cool. My thoughts soon became scattered and really didn't make much sense.
After a few minutes Z returned. I told him the mushrooms were kicking in and he told me he was starting to feel them too. We spent the next few minutes looking around the room, admiring the out-of-proportion nature of the place. I had the bright idea to get up and walk around a little bit, and as soon as I got out of my chair I felt like I literally was five or six feet taller. The ceiling seemed only inches away from my head. While walking, if I looked at my feet, the floor seemed to take on the properties of a treadmill. It was fucking cool. The corners of the room seemed to cave in on themselves and breathe a little bit when I walked towards them as well. After a few more minutes we decided it would be a good idea to take a stroll around the block. We grabbed our cigarettes and coats and headed outside.
The walk around the block was fucking incredible. I scanned the environment, taking note of how bright and shimmery the skyline was. What will be the tallest office building in my city is currently under construction (it's topped out). The cranes hanging around on it were bending and shit. Street signs seemed very bright. There was one moment while walking where we stopped and it were as if the planet had stopped rotating. It was fucking weird. By far one of the coolest visuals from this portion of the trip is when we were walking back down my street (it's on a slight hill), buildings in the distance, at the bottom of the hill, were completely stationary and didn't move as we got lower down the slope. Everything seemed to stick out against it's background a lot. As for my mental state at this time, I can't remember much of it. I could think somewhat clearly compared to how I was thinking during the onset of the trip, though, and I had some random ass shit floating around my head. I can remember that I had Rob Pue's shroomed-out statement 'December is a shitty month to be a pine tree' invariably coming up every few minutes. And it made so much fucking sense. It wasn't even funny to me anymore at the time, but rather a breakthrough in how people look at nature. It was silly.
When we returned to the house, we looked at the clock and we were barely outside for seven minutes. What the fuck. We headed back to my bedroom and continued babbling nonsense, which we had done the entire trip. We tossed some theories about reality and the world back and forth. One of my more memorable quotes from the escapade was something along the lines of:
'Imagine if the mushroom experience is merely a glimpse into reality...things slowly morphing all over the place and shit. Dude, that would explain the fucking particle theory! If everything is moving and emits energy what the fuck happens to it! Shit moves! Duh! And continental drift is very slow and like a shroom hallucination! Holy shit!'
We decided we were geniuses. I sat back down in my computer chair and Z crashed on my futon/bed. We continued to converse about other inane shit. When he was talking, if I focused on him, he seemed to transform into someone who built a time machine during the industrial revolution and came here to enlighten me. I was convinced of this for a bit. Why? I do not know. But when you're tripping, what you feel is not
able to be accurately described. It just is. It's everything.
The body buzz was very
strong at this point, and it was an interesting feeling to say the least. It felt like warm, earthy waves of euphoria were moving up and down my entire body. Like being wrapped up in the thickest fucking blanket you can imagine after being out in the freezing cold. It was amazing. Moving was actually a little bit uncomfortable, though. Whenever I did so, pretty much the exact same feeling as caffeine jitters shot through my extremities rapidly. After talking shit for a few more minutes, we decided some trippy musical fusion was in order. We checked out the Meat Puppet's 'Up on the Sun' album for a little bit. When the music came on the usually-dim light of my bedroom instantly intensified by quite a considerable amount, to the point where it was like the ceiling hosted a sun all of it's own. It was exactly like sunshine. That's the best I can describe it. Also, I found the Toad container on top of my computer and thought it was sitting there forever. I was like 'IT'S A SHROOM HAHAHAHAHAHAH!'
I told Z this, he agreed, and went into a maniacal laughing fit about how 'shroomin' we were. The best thing he said during the entire evening was said during this laughing fit. When he was able to breathe he said 'HAHAHAHAHAHAHAH OH FUCK NIG DEEZ SOME CRACK SHROOMS WE GOT HERE.'
In this Dave Chappelle-like voice. It was fucking awesome. Never in my life have I laughed so hard at something someone said. Even now, I laugh my ass off when I think about it.
We ventured around the house, talked to my siblings a little bit and decided we needed to go to the store to purchase more cigarettes. We left, and headed towards the field Z smoked in earlier. We walked through it for a while, and the rolling hill of the other end of the field was breathing and the top of it appeared to be rippling in waves. Pulsating waves. It was weird but really cool. About halfway through the field, Z stopped me and told me to take a look at some cell-phone towers in the distance. He asked me if they were bending and dancing. I looked at the towers and did indeed see them bend. As if they were made out of rubber. The red lights at their apexes were also providing some very cool visuals. They were subtly but surely moving away from the towers, and if I looked away quickly they followed my eyes, behind them were some looong tracers outlining their path.
We decided to move toward a parking lot adjacent to the field after we were done laughing at the towers. The parking lot is actually not a parking lot per se, but a cemented area between two buildings. This area was very well lit, too. And this proved to make the zone yet another breeding ground for strange visuals. When we were walking, the other end of the area never seemed to get closer. Not like I was walking in place, because I could see through my peripheral vision that I was moving, but what I was walking towards stayed exactly where it was. It was odd.
After making it through the lot, we came to another small grassy area, knowing that there is an alley on its far side that would take us directly where we needed to go. We walked through the grassy area, and we reached the other end. Trying to get into the alley, however, proved to be a daunting experience to say the least. We were stopped dead in our tracks by a run of the mill chain-link fence. We searched for an opening in the fence and couldn't find it, so we decided going to the store was too much work and turned around to go back to my house. I thought this was extremely funny. I laughed for a minute or two straight and we walked along the fence in the opposite direction we were originally going, toward the street. Underneath the street lamp, the sidewalk shimmered and I could see every blemish in it. Every crack, every single weed that grew between those cracks, and every single tiny imprint left by rocks and shit. It was cool. We continued babbling, I said something about my acid reflux that was bothering me a few days before, Rolaids, and about how the world is so much more interesting while tripping. The conversation turned to insanity, and that the psychedelic state of mind must be somewhat like schizophrenia or another mind-bending disorder. We talked about shrooms in general for a bit too, and as we were, I guess someone who lived along the street was outside having a cigarette listening to us, because we heard a chuckle and then a sliding patio door close. This caused us to laugh more. Good times.
We made it back to the house without incident, and wandered around for a little bit. It suddenly occurred to me that we didn't get cigarettes, so I bummed a few from my dad. We sat around back in my bedroom and just smoked and talked. The cigarette smoke seemed to just freeze in the air instead of drifting off. When this was happening, I could stare at it and it would morph dramatically. I saw both stick men and spiderwebs. Z saw also saw a smoke-comprised humanoid figure slowly rise up out of the ashtray when he butted his cigarette. It was cool. Now we decided was a better time then any, to turn off all the lights in my room and just trip out. We prepared ourselves, then all of a sudden the room was complete and utter darkness. I crawled into my bed.
Pitch motherfucking black, with the exception of a small red 'off' light projected by my television, in the corner of the room. I would also like to say that this portion of the trip, which lasted about ten minutes, is probably the only time we stopped talking. And with that being said, it was also the most intense. Those who have continued reading the report to this point have probably scoffed at the lack of mindfuck involved with my trip, but it comes into play now. Without any real external stimuli, the darkness, the room, no, the entire world, took on its own life. It was amazing. If I stared at the light from the television, it would do what the lights from the cell-phone towers were doing and slowly shift away, twisting and leaving intense tracers all over the place. Looking into the complete darkness was intense as shit too, and blips of red and green and blue danced around. If I stared at them long enough, they world turn into complex kaleidoscopic patterns that very slowly morphed into one another. It was the coolest.
After my eyes adjusted to the dark, I could stare at shadows around the room and they would literally transport me into another. It was fucking weird, and probably the only thing during most of the trip, apart from the come-up, that freaked me out for a second. The 'teleportation' was not an instantaneous one, and I had to really concentrate the first few times to obtain it. The shadows would start slowly morphing, then my peripheral vision would flash every
color I could possibly imagine for a split second and slowly, scenery would become more apparent. Where nothing was in my bedroom, a staircase leading down would appear. Underneath my window, against the wall, a desk with a fan and a plant appeared. The most intense open-eyed visual of the entire trip for me came during this episode and involved my television. It, and the stand it sits atop, slowly melted and twisted and breathed and swirled and eventually became the silhouette of a man. A very large one. One I wouldn't want to run into in an alley late at night. I stared for a few seconds and the outside of the silhouette rippled. I blinked, and I was back in my bedroom. Closed eye visuals were very intense here, and consisted of very complex patterns swirling and morphing away. Crazy ass shit.
I also got to thinking about some very dark shit that's happened during my lifetime. To me, my siblings, and anyone else really in my family that hasn't been affected by these things. What were they? My mother's and stepfather's drug addictions, the physical and verbal abuse that my stepfather put me through for the better part of my childhood, and the ill health of my grandmother, who I haven't seen in person for several years. I miss her dearly. This almost brought me to the point of tears. I thought to myself not to think about it right now, and to deal with it and call her when I sobered up. This worked, but my mind went to my younger brother, who is residing with my aforementioned stepfather (who is his biological father.) I missed him too. I was on the verge of freaking out because I felt I had abandoned both of them. This seemed to be the perfect opportunity for some deep healing. And honestly it was. I was so fucking sad and ashamed of myself, but was able to think my way through it. My train of thought went something like this:
SHAME ------V-->MORE GUILT -> TRIPPING = MISTAKE
^ V ^ V
| V | V
SADNESS -> GUILT -> DRUGS -> I AM AN ASSHOLE etc
However, since my negative thoughts were branching off so rapidly, I figured I could use this to my advantage to work my way through things. I did. I'll try again to represent what my thinking was like through this bit.
SADNESS -> I'm sad. -> Why? -> Keep closer contact with the family members from now on. Stop feeling sorry for them and myself do what I think I need to do to get closer to them.
GUILT -> Why am I guilty? Why am I feeling like this? For not appearing to care as much as I actually do about my family? Why? They're family. I know they love me and I know I love them. I don't need to feel this.
DRUGS -> Why do they seem so trivial and stupid now? Why have I let the family who went against me for their own addictions and psychotic reasons get into my head that I'm a loser for enjoying them? They feel good. Humans like to feel good. I am a human. They don't control me. I control the drugs. I don't need to feel guilty about it. This trip has been more therapeutic than six months of addictions counseling. Speaking of which, my mother forced me to go to this as a smokescreen for her own problems. 'No, I'm clean. Look at my fucking useless piece of shit son though.'
I'M AN ASSHOLE -> No. I'm really not. Why do I think this? Because my abusive stepdad told me so when I was a kid? I'm not. I'm just a well-grounded level headed individual who isn't a fan of bullshitting people and sugar-coating things. I have a heart, I love those close to me dearly and would do anything for them.
These thoughts all took place over the course of five minutes or so. I snapped back into reality for a split second, let a stupid grin cross my face, and sunk into my bed. The feeling of not worrying about those things anymore and having them sorted out enough that they wouldn't disrupt my everyday functioning anymore sent a wave of intense euphoria through me. I watched the patterns on the wall for a minute, then Z freaked the fuck out for a split second and moved to a different spot in the room (he was laying on the floor facing my closet). I asked him what was up and he said that he saw a collage of distorted, unnerving faces in the darkness. With this I turned the lights back on. We decided to make some coffee.
While in the kitchen preparing the coffee, we looked at the time. We were about three and a half hours in. Z said after a few minutes he was starting to feel the inebriation subside and come back in intervals, though each time it came back it was less intense. I still felt like I was tripping pretty hard. We finished making the coffee, and headed back to the bedroom. We drank and continued talking about random ass shit and watching television. This was pretty cool, and there were tracers and beams of light slowly emitting from the television in sync with the sound. I also noticed a slight outline around everything. I laughed at this and told Z he had a purple aura. This tripped him the fuck out, seeing as he is of aboriginal descent and many shamans and elders and whatnot have told him the same. Though he dismissed it as bullshit usually. Nothing really noteworthy happened after this. I relaxed and slowly came down off the trip. Slight visuals remained until I was able to sleep a couple of hours later. Z was sitting around enjoying whatever visuals he had left and fucking around on the internet.
When I awoke the next morning, I felt fan-FUCKING-tastic. There was no trace of my mind being fried like I so often heard when I was younger. Haha. However, my anxiety seemed distant and faint, and even trivial. It didn't matter. I was at peace with myself and a few skeletons I had laying around in the closet appeared to be grinded up into powder, swept into the dust bin, and discarded. To be forgotten about forever. It was amazing. Two days after the trip, and I still feel this way. I'm sure it will stick around. If not, my mind is expanded to the point where I can think through most things that are bothering me. As far as my view on shrooms, or any psychedelic, I think they are over-glorified by some who think they're a godsend. This is just my opinion however. Think what you want about them, but to me they're merely inebriants. If you can gain from insight from them, cool. But it's still you who gains the insight and ultimately uses it. If you want to use them just to get really fucked up, you certainly can do so as long as you have your head screwed on tight and fasten your fucking seat belt.
Psychedelics are now definitely my drugs of choice. Before it was stimulants. I still very much enjoy stimulants and other drugs but my trip with mushrooms made me realize that I like being in my own head. The experience overall had a very, very dark, sinister, sneering overtone. I felt like I was somewhere I belonged because of this. In fact, Z, who is far more experienced in psychoactives than I, had a very hard time in some spots and I had to guide him through it. I thought this was strange because if we even just smoke a doob he's the one who has to assure me that the cops aren't watching us and plotting to arrest us and shit. He was extremely impressed with how I handled everything.
In closing, psychedelics are fun but nothing to be fucked with by the weak-minded. I think I can use them to get into my own head, to party/get fucked up, and to enhance other experiences. The possibilities are endless really. But only if I have my shit together and aren't a neurotic mess to begin with. They're great but I could definitely see how someone could be overwhelmed and freak out with them. They aren't for everyone.
Z and I are going to trip together more in the coming months, experimenting with higher doses of mushrooms and trying out LSD. I may report back on the experiences. I know they'll be an absolute ball but there's only one first trip, and mine was thankfully very fucking good.
I don't condone the use of illegal substances, or any activity that is against the law. But if you decide to try for yourself, do it safely. With either a sober sitter or someone who knows that they're doing.
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