Well, being someone who did boat loads of LSD over the course of many years, I can tell you, without getting into a whole dissertation about it, that it can take a pretty significant toll on you psychologically and to a lesser degree, physically. I used to buy sheets regularly, and while I did share a lot and moved them in my circles, I always kept a supply on hand. And this was always super good LSD that was known, within these circles, to be very high quality. We lived in the country and had lots of open spaces to retreat to, and we would regularly trip. We would have experiences out in the middle of the woods that were very heavy, and most of us there tripped at the time, and again, a LOT. I always took more than most of my friends, because I had no interest in having a “minor” experience. I wanted to go to other realms, and I very, very often did. I also used to trip by myself, and spend hours and hours listening to music and doing various things under the influence. I had many experiences that were scary as hell because I pushed the envelope. Always. Over time, I tripped so much and so hard that I would actually have a friend “hold on” to my LSD for me, because I felt like I couldn’t control myself. I also got to the point where I would trip two days in a row by double my dose the next day. So, I may have taken 3,4 or 500 hundred ug’s, and I’d literally double it the next day for a rather harrowing ride. Some very scary rides. Anyway, this went on and on and slowly, I felt I was losing my grip on reality. I started to get very depressed, and every time I would want to trip, I would have extreme anxiety, wondering if this trip would be the one I would not return from. I would often sit there, with a strip of hits sitting on my counter or table, trying to build the courage to take them. This would go on for an hour sometimes. It was crazy-making, and anxiety-provoking. Anyway, I tripped many hundreds of times over the course of a dozen or so years. Weekly, more than that often, with occasional breaks when I was out or worrying I’d put myself over the edge. I began to get more and more depressed, and started having little interest in NOT tripping, and it became almost more important to me than anything else. I had people say to me, at parties, “Hey man, how come it seems like every time I see you, you’re tripping?” I recall saying, “Because I am”. I still remember that, and I while everyone knew I was smart, learned, worked all the time and was a good person, others started to get worried about me and I was worried about myself. In the end, I became very vulnerable psychologically, and I was very fragile. I cried a lot, was profoundly depressed, and did not feel like I would ever return to baseline. I began to think what I had done was permanent, and this made me feel even worse. At one point, I had the remainder of a sheet of LSD, it was White on White, I still recall, and I had decided that I was going to throw it out. I had taken some of it and was tripping, and was having a bad trip, so I took what was left and took a walk outside. There was a storm drain there, and I tossed what was left down in that drain. After that night, I tripped a bit more, but slowed down because these effects were persisting, and I was going to a very demanding University, and decided that letting go of LSD would be best so that I didn’t burn myself into the ground and have nothing left. I took a long break from it after that, many years, and then never resumed with the exception of concerts and a few other times a year. Then, about ten years went by without any LSD. Over time, all of the damage that was done to my psyche seemed to slowly diminish, which was a relief, but it took me over a year or more to feel “better”. The effects lingered but went away. Now, I don’t have access to LSD anymore, but do engage with some psychedelics here and there, but only in a minor way. I have a great job, several degrees, and work in an intense environment, and I do it well, but it’s because I keep myself on the rails and don’t get nutty with consumption of anything, and am more a weekend warrior at best. Interestingly enough, this night of “throwing away” my LSD, because I had enough, was replicated several years earlier, when I threw a gram of coke out my car window after being at a party and after having had a few years of lots of nose candy consumption. That stuff fucked me up and I knew I needed to stop doing it, and whenever I had gotten to a bad place with drugs, I was always able to stop without intervention, rehab, so on, only because I had the will power to stop on my own.
