Waves, A Bad Trip and The Runs
consisted of a big blue cooler, an Xbox and back pack full of clothes and pot smoking utensils, I was ready for a night at the beach. Though this particular night would not turn out like the rest of my beer drunken sabbaticals in the sands of New Smyrna, I cruised along unaware, with the beating wind and rocking guitar strums of Jimi. When I got to the beach I drank beer on the beach and then munched out at a cool river bar and took the pieces of white paper, one, two, and a little more around midnight. Fast forward, 2 a.m. After taking my last gravity bong (which I later was told heightened the trip, not sure..) and stumbling bleary eyed into my normal sleeping quarters, a top bunk in the condos front bedroom, I climbed the stairs and closed my eyes. First, a tie-dye print exploded into my sight and when I opened my eyes, the bedrooms doorway was reverberating with such force, I could not determine what was the door and what was the shaking visuals. At this point, fully aware I was properly fucked, I hastily crawled down the ladder that felt as though stories high and quickly went to the sleeping friend of mine who took not near as much. I nervously said I was freaking out and he assured me I was fine. These words were not comforting, About this time, I felt a strong stomach evacuation in process and ran for the adjoining bathroom, the bowel movement was that of a soda machine (Sprite colored) and throughout the trip I was in the bathroom countless times. Needless to say, the small, dimly lit, bathroom was not the place I preferred to be, considering the Spanish tile was shifting as if lava and the shower curtain a floral print, was exploding in streams of the bright colors like a never ending firework, for this reason I usually kept the door opened and told my friend Mike that I may be shitting so much out of “sheer fucking fear.” Between 3 a.m. and 5:30 Mike stayed up and continued to answer my questions. He also got a seasoned tripper, Amanda who was staying with us to answer some of my ridiculous questions and shoot down my proposal I go to a hospital. My most common inquiry was asking when the fuck it was going to end. I kept saying I just wanted to sleep. Silly me. Besides the mind-blowing visuals (being at the beach, the ocean was terrifying) the biggest agitation with my bad trip was the anxiety of my continuous bubbling energy. I just wanted to de-compress but this was impossible, I continued to move from couch to his king size bed laying on a sliver of it, peeking outside at the churning waves that seemed much larger and more violent than they really were. Around 6 a.m. the sun rose and with the rising orange sun I thought the trip may be coming to a close, wrong. I sat on the couch at this point jogging to the bathroom when I needed to go more and asking Mike if he was, “ok,” clearly an automated mechanism I did, to feel safe. Around 7 a.m. I went outside by myself as Mike had fallen asleep and looked at the sun rising over the water. The bright beaming reflection of the sun shot across the water and I felt as though the light went right off the water and the yellow beam continued past me on the porch. This was the most serene part of the trip and felt a strong momentary inner peace. The sun was beautiful. Though many of the strong visuals had faded around 8 a.m. I cold now close my eyes but falling sleep was in a very distant realm. I got very anxious about the fact I wanted to sleep and knew I couldn’t, a paranoia almost. Around 9 a.m. my other buddy woke up and headed out surfing, talking to him seemed foreign and everything I said, I doubted, very weird feeling. From here on the faint visuals were gone but the anxiety and mental agitation was very persistent. From 10 a.m. till we left that day I estimate I shit out a few gallons of water, ate nothing and had never been so mind fucked in my entire life. We left the beach that evening and made it home around 8 p.m. My friend drove my car as I felt I was so tired it would be dangerous and the initial moments of the ride back I was very nervous but eventfully chilled out. When I got home I took a Xanax to wind down after unsuccessfully trying to sleep and faded away into the most yearned for sleep I have ever had around 9 p.m. I slept for 12 hours and woke up still slightly off, but definitely back on planet earth and my mind could grasp ideas, thoughts, and process basic information again.
All in all, it was the most intense experience of my otherwise relaxed life but clearly most people have a awesome time. I have to say I probably wont do acid or even shrooms again, as I have decided reality is weird enough for me. My words of advice are to make the decision to take something like this ahead of time as to mentally prepare. Also, I made the decision after drinking on the beach for 8 hours and if I had been sober would have never done it in those circumstance with people not tripping and some that were, the entire atmosphere was wrong and being drunk disregarded it. I later talked to Amanda and she said I had taken the equivalent of two hits of “high quality shit” as I was unaware, since I had never done it. For those that continue to have epic journeys of mental exploration and worldly enlightenment I wish you many more escapes, as for me, I’ll be that creepy guy you refuse to trip around because, he never does.
just made me do a few more diligent set and setting rituals and rules and pay attention to diet in the run up to the experience.
