First time I took shrooms (my first psychedelic experience) was with a bunch of friends. Most of them took an eighth, but my roommate and I split an eighth. We decided to go outside and "explore" around campus. My roommate puked really early on before really being able to digest anything so he just excused himself from the group and went back to his room. We wound up down on the Lacrosse field. This was the night Obama got elected. We had completely forgotten that was going on and got a phone call from my roommate saying how Obama won. We were tripping so hard we had no idea how to even process that kind of groundbreaking information. Anyway, everything was going fine...everything was fantastic really. I felt like I was five years old again, but better. We were in this field for 2 hours (I'm pretty sure

) and it was great, but I was getting a little bored just staying in one area for so long.
I suggested to the others that we keep moving and get a little change of scenery. I was vastly outnumbered in the vote, so I agreed to be patient and waited in the field some more. Some time went by and I suggested again that we move (didn't wanna go inside, just wanted to get off this damn lacrosse field). The answer was still no. This was becoming frustrating. I began to feel not so good. I felt heavy as shit, my stomach was giving me the weirdest vibes in the world and I was frustrated. My world that was just filled with light (even though it was night) began to grow dark. It got to the point where I just had to say, "fuck this" and I walked back to my room.
When I got back first thing I felt like I had to do was relieve these terribly awkward stomach sensations that I didn't know how to deal with so I tried taking a shit. Couldn't do it. I frustratingly got up and tried to puke. I was unsuccessful at this too. I was now starting to get pretty frustrated. I was still tripping really hard. I know I only took half an eighth, but if you were to exclude any DMT and salvia experiences I've had since then, that would probably have been one of the hardest trips I've had (and I've since taken a full eighth which doesn't even touch this experience). I crawled into bed and figured I would just sleep it off :roll: Much to no one's surprise I couldn't sleep for shit. I think this was actually the first time I tried to close my eyes during the experience and as I tried to fall asleep, I noticed that the distortions I was seeing with my eyes open were somehow manifesting themselves with my eyes closed. This provided waaay too much of a distraction to even entertain the idea of sleep. This was now
really fucking frustrating. I found myself in a state of profound anxiety and dislocation from reality. I couldn't remember what it felt like to be normal or what normal reality was like. I just kept on mumbling "I just wanna come back to reality man, just lemme come back to reality..." This was creating more anxiety and negativity. I just wanted the whole thing to end, and I couldn't stop thinking "if only we had just changed locations from the field to elsewhere, none of this would have happened in the first place". I couldn't relieve my terrible stomach sensations, I couldn't sleep it off, and I was in full-freakout mode by this point. God if I could have taken something at the time to make it go away (or at least the negative aspects) I would have sold my soul for sure.
In the midst of all this, my friends slowly had made their way back to the room from the field. I was in the other room, but they started to play Stairway to Heaven and while I normally would think that it's so overplayed and would be the last thing I would wanna listen to, I found it to never be more appropriate music in my life. Especially in that intro, that celtic vibe just struck me in a way I'll never forget (just a side-note, had to throw that little bit in there, doesn't really have anything to do with the bad trip). One of my friends suggested I take a shower and that he found showers to sort of kill the trip. I had no better ideas so a shower it was. When I got out I felt completely refreshed. This was most likely placebo in retrospect, but it was just what I needed (when I tried this shower-technique with my next shrooms experience, which also started off great and ended with me wanting to kill myself, it failed miserably...I was just tripping in the shower :lol: ). It was so great...it was finally over, and to be back in consensual normal reality was the biggest blessing I could ask for. I fell asleep with ease and woke up the next morning in a glow, feeling like a hundred bucks.
As I said, the next time I tried shrooms (again, only half an eighth), it did not end well. Especially when I began to feel that dislocation from reality. I just didn't know how to deal with it and the anxiety felt terrible. It wasn't till after that experience that I found out that xanax could "abort bad trips" and after that I've had a safety net ever since, but have rarely had to use it. Sorry for the long post, had to throw it out there though
