The Crimson Elephant
Bluelighter
- Joined
- Feb 8, 2024
- Messages
- 24
Title: Psychedelic Blizzard
Date: January 2024
Description: I'm going to tell you about a trip that took place in the middle of a city at night with nowhere to hide.
"[...] he had dragged my lifeless body by the bag to lock us in a bank where people were banging on the windows to kill and rob us. "
Warnings: The text is rather anxious at the end, it's not a happy story. I'm sure there are a few mistakes in the way the text is structured and in the tenses used, but I apologize in advance and hope it remains a pleasant read.
Reading time: 10 minutes (it goes by fast)
Main characters: My best friend Martin and me.
Location: A port city.
Introduction :
After two days of presentation at work, and more than 15 hours on my feet talking, I head home to get my party stuff ready.
I'm pretty exhausted but decide to take a 100µg dose and a 300µg dose (3x100 analyzed) of LSD just in case.
My bag is packed, I've taken 3 sweaters and 2 pairs of pants plus a spare stowed in my bag. It's 21:00 on this winter Saturday and it's already 0 degrees.
I join Martin at his place around 21:30 after buying a small bottle of "cuisse de la bergère" rosé.
We finish the bottle on the way to a carpool that takes us to the free party.
After 1 hour's drive, 10 minutes from the gps point, we receive word that the rave is cancelled because of the cops on the spot.
We then decided to stay in the carpool that was taking us to a large port city where we could more easily spend the night.
It's 01:30 and we're having a cigarillo and a toast. It's going to be a long night, we have nowhere to stay and the next train is at 08:50.
We've got a tent so we don't have to worry, and after a few cans of booze we go and buy a kebab.
A few people, intrigued by my harem pants and tent, start chatting and, after learning of our situation, warn us about the cold: they think we're crazy and won't make it.
I laugh gently in their faces, telling them that they've become fearful with age, and we head for the beach.
We stop in a park, Martin drinks some water, I give him his 100µg, he finishes his beer, I take my 300µg and we go for a walk in the center near the docks.
Chapter 1: Laughing out loud.
It's 03:00 and we're exploring the city, chatting away.
We laugh about our sad fate and get funnier by the minute, a sign that the acid is coming up.
Martin being my best friend and this being our first real trip together, I'm euphoric and laughing until my abs hurt.
It's getting higher and higher, but I'm used to it, so I stay calm and we wander around the city along the quayside towards "the beach", or at any rate, towards the outskirts of town.
I'm right in the middle of the climb and my vision is really starting to be covered with hallucinations, we're heading headlong where the wind takes us.
At this point, even though I'm not really in control of my trip, it's going well and I'm happy.
Martin and I spot a bridge at about 04:30.
We cross it and sit down under a lamppost, where we can sit on the edge of the bank, and it's a nice place to be.
There's a small beach nearby and music can be heard in the distance.
We're chatting and laughing, walking along footpaths, and everything's going well apart from the fact that we're out in the street instead of in a forest in front of big fat subs.
At one point we see a car bumper on a fence and tire tracks on the ground. We don't quite understand.
Gradually, we realize to our horror that we were in fact walking on a one-way road.
We quickly turn back, a little ashamed and stunned not to have seen what this "path" was, it could have been dangerous.
At this point, I'm thinking that it's a bit risky not having anyone to anchor us to reality. We can only rely on our altered perceptions of it.
Chapter 2: Getting weird.
Finally, we return to the shore and settle on the pontoon.
We chat about everything and anything, I'm really torn up but we're alone, quiet, the place is cool, the night is balmy.
Unfortunately, I have to "drop my kids off at the seaside", in other words, shit all over the place, so I decide to do my business in a bit of wasteland behind the beach.
This disturbing experience, especially in my harem pants and zooted out, made me realize that I was freezing my butt off (it feels quicker bare-assed).
So I join Martin near the bridge and we have to decide whether to walk to warm up or set up the tent on the beach.
By the time we've made up our minds, we're walking quietly along the bridge, and an icy breeze coming from the docks ruffles my hair.
I'm thinking that it's actually too cold to pitch the tent right now, and especially that we can't pitch it in the middle of the street and don't have time to go far to pitch it hidden.
I thought I'd be fine walking, but in fact I'm freezing more and more.
Stress leads to stress and worsens the cold.
As blood is used to warm the body, the heart has to work harder when it's cold, and this, combined with the tachycardia of the LSD and increasing anxiety, means I can feel my heart beating intensely in my chest.
Being a bit of a hypochondriac and quite paranoid about my heart, this doesn't put me at ease.
However, with time and consumption, I've learned not to give a damn and to say to myself, if worst comes to worst, my heart gives out and I die, what can I do?
What worries me more is the cold.
Chapter 3: "Man, I'm gonna die if I don't warm up!"
I feel my brain "freezing" and with panic I start to run out of breath. I know I'm panicking, so I try to calm down, but a dilemma arises: to sit down and calm down to regain control, or to keep walking and moving to warm up.
My legs give way under the weight of me and my bag, and I'm weak. I feel like I'm going to faint at any moment.
I tell Martin to get help, I'm dying.
He told me it was impossible to freeze to death like that, that it would take a lot more. In fact, we had no way of judging our level of endangerment, my senses were incapable of perceiving the reality of my situation.
That's when things went off the rails, in my panic, I wanted to find help absolutely, I was heading for houses to knock and maybe get warm for a few moments.
For me, it was a matter of life and death.
I stood in the road for a car to stop so I could ask the driver to help us.
I didn't care if I ended up in a police office or a hospital, I didn't want to die like that!
Fortunately, Martin calmed me down, and despite all my efforts to make him panic: "But man, you're going to kill me if we don't get help right away, I'm going to collapse!", he remained reassuring.
So I followed him...
He convinced me to find a warm public place instead.
NB: Somewhere during this chapter I had the effect of my last bad trip where my perception would replace certain elements of reality like Martin's words.
I'd be looking for an answer to a question, and when he'd reply, I'd realize that I'm actually the one who decides what he says. He'd then smile mischievously at me, as if to say, "I'm you, you can't look for a solution from your perception of what I'm saying, because deep down, it comes from you, you know and you decide what I'm going to say".
Of course, this was all just my perception.
Chapter 4: Echoes
->06:00, the coldest part of the night.
At that moment, my constraints, which were the world, nature and fortune, as well as the tempo I set myself, became Martin's constraints.
I judged my perception as misleading and trusted his word and description of reality.
That's when things got out of hand.
My perception of reality, which was the reality modified by my brain on LSD, became my imagination interpreting the modified perception of reality in Martin's brain.
Me, standing on the road with Martin pulling me by the arm to leave, was described by him like: "but fatso I had to drag you off the road you were in the middle of it you were going to get run over".
From here on, events are not necessarily in order. Until 08:00, when I started to come to my senses, my memories are affected by amnesia induced by panic, LSD and mild hypothermia.
My memories don't really have spatial or temporal continuity; they're feelings, perceptions and delusions. Telling the story of a psychosis is complicated, but so is telling how fears and ideas materialize in my perception.
It should be noted that I'm going to tell my perception of the story, but no one can really say what really happened.
At one point, we enter a bank to warm up and some people accost us, one saying something to me about my pants :
"Hey, that's a nice sarouel you're wearing!
-Did you see that, I'm a class act ^^"
Then it's off again.
Martin later describes this scene to me as, "Some homeless people wanted to shake us down, so I dragged you into a bank and blocked the door and they left."
He was completely exaggerating things and I thought my perception of reality was wrong, that I wasn't standing next to him and that I was passed out on the floor.
I didn't even connect his description to the moment we entered a bank. In the panic I couldn't remember anything.
I was as vulnerable as could be, and for me he'd dragged my lifeless body by the sack to lock us in a bank where people were banging on the windows to kill and rob us.
As with my November bad trip, my perception was swirling and had nothing to do with reality.
All my deepest fears, exacerbated by the gloom of the nocturnal city, were giving me hell.
I could feel my phone being ripped from my hand as if it were being stolen, and I had to clutch at it with all my might.
I thought I'd pissed my pants as I passed out on the floor, my phone going limp and slipping from my hands into the back of my pocket.
I was afraid that the people trying to shake us down would find us and stab me, stealing all my stuff.
I thought about my family, they didn't even know where I was, they thought I was dancing at a party.
I was going to die without being able to tell them I loved them one last time.
I saw the highlights of my life flash by.
I told Martin how much I loved him and apologized.
I was having a panic attack and was using every possible technique to de-stress.
Looking back, I feel sorry for myself. I was all scared and shaky, dying. I was doing breathing exercises, focusing on the positive and clinging to the reality of my love for Martin to stay clinging to reality.
Sometimes I'd chant the ॐ mantra, sometimes I'd hum the rhythm of tekno music, like a warrior chant, the free party music gave me courage. "BOOM BOOM BOOM BOOM"
The hallucinations gave us the impression of going round in circles in the city, with buildings taking on the same appearance.
Even sober, we were lost in this unfamiliar city - imagine on LSD at night.
NB: Somewhere during this chapter, cornered and terrified, like a beast fighting for its life, I had a jolt of adrenaline, which made me clench my jaw and roar. For a moment my body went into survival mode and I felt the urge to fight for my life: "RHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA". Unfortunately, the LSD soon took over and a phenomenon that often happens to me when I'm stressed under psyches occurred.
In the middle of a square where we were advancing, a car arrived, we could only hear its roar and see the light of its headlights.
The sound, like imminent danger, overwhelmed me and grew louder with dozens of other cars arriving, creating ever more noise, threatening to implode me. The height of overwhelmingness came just before the car appeared.
I was kind of proud as it was my first time handling that perception flood without going bananas.
Chapter 5: The saving soul's last stand
Miraculously, we finally arrived at the station.
But it was closed and we were in the last phase of the night's low temperatures.
By now, the temperature would only be rising, but our body temperature was still low, having been depleted throughout the night.
Martin had the idea of taking refuge in an AirBNB so we wouldn't die like dogs in the street.
No matter how expensive the room.
He then asked me to get out some money as he didn't have his card or any cash.
All I could perceive in the blizzard of my troubled senses was "get your money out quick".
I thought we were being shaken down at gunpoint.
I got down on my knees, feverish, submissive, and started searching through my things. I had to hurry, fast, fast.
Martin kept repeating to me "vite, vite". I took it to be the words of the thief/thieves.
But blown up on LSD, my memory and ability to search my bag were greatly diminished.
Then I had a thought.
In Mr.Robot, Elliot deplores the fact that money and its invisible hand in capitalist society control our lives. Making us prostitute ourselves, killing us slowly, damaging us to the very depths of our souls.
I was being killed, stabbed, beaten for my money.
Money was going to kill me.
I don't remember exactly what I said to Martin, but he told me later that I would have firmly refused him the money.
He took it for cheapness.
He didn't realize the hell he was putting me through with his descriptions of his perception of reality.
I couldn't blame him, he's probably the one who saved me from ending up in hospital or at the police station.
He was my messiah and my executioner.
If my paranoid torpor continued, it was because Martin was keeping us in a hurry and panic by running around.
For a moment I wanted to stop running, but I realized that in fact it was the only cause of these problems.
That, in fact, we were running in a loop, each movement only pushing us further into the loop.
I wanted to stop time, to stop moving forward, to stop listening to him, I felt as if I'd solved the riddle.
The easy thing was to follow him, to run around, not to face life.
I see it as a good analogy for the kind of life we can lead, where we're always running and having to hurry.
Sometimes we have to say "Enough. STOP." and stop, step back, take back control of our lives.
After that, we took refuge in the airtight public toilets where we could warm up the atmosphere, sitting in vomit and piss.
I slowly came to my senses and the amnesia of the cold and the LSD dissipated.
Until now, I wasn't sure whether we were really in mortal danger or not.
Martin tells me later that when we entered the bathroom, we were gray, cold and withering.
NB: All medical signs of mild hypothermia were checked off;
Mild hypothermia (35°C to 32.2°C):
The patient remains conscious, but with phases of amnesia, apathy or speech difficulties. Judgment and adaptation to the situation are impaired.
There is cutaneous vasoconstriction with pale, cold skin, shivering and horripilation. Blood pressure and heart rate are elevated. Breathing is rapid (tachypnea), but with low thoracic amplitude.
My head was poorly covered and my heart unable to warm my body properly, I think that's why I was so cold.
Chapter 6: All's well that ends well
We hung out in the shithouse for an hour and a half, drinking beers and chatting about our adventures.
At 08:30, the station opened. We went to wait for our 09:00 train, and a few minutes later we were finally inside, saved.
Exhausted but safe and sound, we could finally see the smiles on our soiled, poor devils' faces.
In our eyes, we could see the influence of narcotics through our still dilated pupils, but above all we could observe the haggard look of those who have just come through an ordeal that has not left them unscathed.
Like a grandfather plunging into his memories staring into space at the airport, I gazed pensively out of the train window.
As fate would have it, our failed party was in the path of many of my previous raves.
So I was able to step back in time and relive my memories of the day after a free party.
I could almost see myself on the platforms of the stations we passed. It was a bit like reviewing pleasant moments from my past. It was great.
I was still maxi ripped, social interactions were catastrophic. A ticket inspector spared us too many spoken words by closing his eyes on our tickets, both inadvertently in my name.
We then returned to Martin's, taking up the seats we'd had at 21:00 the night before, dressed the same, it was almost as if nothing had happened.
Physically, little had changed, but psychologically we'd probably be scarred for life by the experience.
We decided to make this day the anniversary of our friendship.
Watching comedy series after the night we'd just had seemed almost too light and easy.
The day ends at midnight, after a few more hours of train travel and walking home.
The balance sheet:
This is the nth bad trip TR and I don't know if it represents any real interest beyond entertainment and reading, which I hope was pleasant.
There are a lot of things that are fairly obvious to everyone that are important to remember: don't use in a place where you're likely to die, don't be vulnerable in a place that's not conducive to it.
Not to be unmanageable when it was you who initiated the idea of the trip. Not tripping without an anchor to reality if it's important to have access to it in case of need.
In fact, I knew all that. 1 month earlier I had taken 400µg at home, and it had gone well.
Doses had become abstract numbers.
I had my eye on the 600µg, so it seemed reasonable to take 300µg.
But I had forgotten that my maximum dose was 400µg and that I was already well under 300µg+.
So I learned from this unpleasant experience that the dose is part of the set and settings.
A 400µg in a familiar, welcoming, safe environment will perhaps be less "powerful" than a 300µg in hypothermia lost at night in the middle of the city.
Doses are not linear, and we mustn't forget what LSD is capable of.
Experience is a factor, but I think that if I had to take LSD again in high doses in a life-threatening situation, I'd probably freak out just as much if I had no way of gauging reality.
So what can you do if you're in a situation where you vitally need to analyze reality but are incapable of doing so?
I'm going to turn the answer into advice to "my-me-who-is-bad-tripping":
Don't rely on the perception of someone under a spell, or on your own, skeptical self.
Rushing leads to mistakes and assumptions because we don't have time to question our perception. Just sit back and breathe. The fear of dying is killing you more than death itself. You've been there, you're not going to die, and even if fortune is against you, you're going to make it. Have a good laugh, take the pressure off, listen to a sound you like, enjoy the moment and being alive. Don't let fate spoil your trip! Be free!
Remaining work :
I then re-tripped two weeks later with 200µg and during this trip, I realized that I was actually really traumatized by my freezing experience.
I'm afraid of the cold at night now, I'm quite uncomfortable walking outside in the cool of the night.
Now I sometimes think when I go for a walk in the evening, "Would I be able to survive as a homeless person if from now on I couldn't go home?"
Though, it doesn't cause me any daily stress.
But my confidence in my ability to handle psychedelics is greatly reduced.
After the 400µg I thought I'd become invincible, I wanted to do a breakthrough on DMT and then maybe try a trip to 600µg.
The trajectory of my psychonautical launch pointed far into the sky.
This unfortunate experience, in which I was irresponsible, unmanageable and a danger to myself and those close to me, left me very frustrated and disappointed in myself.
I don't hate myself, I'm just disappointed because I perceived my situation differently.
In the end, it calmed me down a bit and I'm slowly picking myself up by reading philosophy.
I also realized that my paranoia about my heart was ruining my life. It's calmed down over the years, and I've managed to reduce the anxiety it generated and that generated it, but it's not enough.
When I use, feeling my heart beat makes me anxious. I believe deep down, consciously or unconsciously, that I could die soon. I'm tired of being tortured by this overwhelming fear of dying of a heart attack or whatever when I take drugs. I avoid talking about heart health almost superstitiously when I'm under the influence.
I wrote this TR in order to better integrate this experience, as I still don't fully understand its impact.
Thank you for reading, this text is very long and looks like a diary, but I think the public forum of the Internet is a good place to talk about your concerns because it's easy to talk to strangers who can't judge you, as they don't know you.
Don't hesitate to share your tips for better integrating the trip in response to the topic, kisses.
TheCrimsonElephant
Date: January 2024
Description: I'm going to tell you about a trip that took place in the middle of a city at night with nowhere to hide.
"[...] he had dragged my lifeless body by the bag to lock us in a bank where people were banging on the windows to kill and rob us. "
Warnings: The text is rather anxious at the end, it's not a happy story. I'm sure there are a few mistakes in the way the text is structured and in the tenses used, but I apologize in advance and hope it remains a pleasant read.
Reading time: 10 minutes (it goes by fast)
Main characters: My best friend Martin and me.
Location: A port city.
Introduction :
After two days of presentation at work, and more than 15 hours on my feet talking, I head home to get my party stuff ready.
I'm pretty exhausted but decide to take a 100µg dose and a 300µg dose (3x100 analyzed) of LSD just in case.
My bag is packed, I've taken 3 sweaters and 2 pairs of pants plus a spare stowed in my bag. It's 21:00 on this winter Saturday and it's already 0 degrees.
I join Martin at his place around 21:30 after buying a small bottle of "cuisse de la bergère" rosé.
We finish the bottle on the way to a carpool that takes us to the free party.
After 1 hour's drive, 10 minutes from the gps point, we receive word that the rave is cancelled because of the cops on the spot.
We then decided to stay in the carpool that was taking us to a large port city where we could more easily spend the night.
It's 01:30 and we're having a cigarillo and a toast. It's going to be a long night, we have nowhere to stay and the next train is at 08:50.
We've got a tent so we don't have to worry, and after a few cans of booze we go and buy a kebab.
A few people, intrigued by my harem pants and tent, start chatting and, after learning of our situation, warn us about the cold: they think we're crazy and won't make it.
I laugh gently in their faces, telling them that they've become fearful with age, and we head for the beach.
We stop in a park, Martin drinks some water, I give him his 100µg, he finishes his beer, I take my 300µg and we go for a walk in the center near the docks.
Chapter 1: Laughing out loud.
It's 03:00 and we're exploring the city, chatting away.
We laugh about our sad fate and get funnier by the minute, a sign that the acid is coming up.
Martin being my best friend and this being our first real trip together, I'm euphoric and laughing until my abs hurt.
It's getting higher and higher, but I'm used to it, so I stay calm and we wander around the city along the quayside towards "the beach", or at any rate, towards the outskirts of town.
I'm right in the middle of the climb and my vision is really starting to be covered with hallucinations, we're heading headlong where the wind takes us.
At this point, even though I'm not really in control of my trip, it's going well and I'm happy.
Martin and I spot a bridge at about 04:30.
We cross it and sit down under a lamppost, where we can sit on the edge of the bank, and it's a nice place to be.
There's a small beach nearby and music can be heard in the distance.
We're chatting and laughing, walking along footpaths, and everything's going well apart from the fact that we're out in the street instead of in a forest in front of big fat subs.
At one point we see a car bumper on a fence and tire tracks on the ground. We don't quite understand.
Gradually, we realize to our horror that we were in fact walking on a one-way road.
We quickly turn back, a little ashamed and stunned not to have seen what this "path" was, it could have been dangerous.
At this point, I'm thinking that it's a bit risky not having anyone to anchor us to reality. We can only rely on our altered perceptions of it.
Chapter 2: Getting weird.
Finally, we return to the shore and settle on the pontoon.
We chat about everything and anything, I'm really torn up but we're alone, quiet, the place is cool, the night is balmy.
Unfortunately, I have to "drop my kids off at the seaside", in other words, shit all over the place, so I decide to do my business in a bit of wasteland behind the beach.
This disturbing experience, especially in my harem pants and zooted out, made me realize that I was freezing my butt off (it feels quicker bare-assed).
So I join Martin near the bridge and we have to decide whether to walk to warm up or set up the tent on the beach.
By the time we've made up our minds, we're walking quietly along the bridge, and an icy breeze coming from the docks ruffles my hair.
I'm thinking that it's actually too cold to pitch the tent right now, and especially that we can't pitch it in the middle of the street and don't have time to go far to pitch it hidden.
I thought I'd be fine walking, but in fact I'm freezing more and more.
Stress leads to stress and worsens the cold.
As blood is used to warm the body, the heart has to work harder when it's cold, and this, combined with the tachycardia of the LSD and increasing anxiety, means I can feel my heart beating intensely in my chest.
Being a bit of a hypochondriac and quite paranoid about my heart, this doesn't put me at ease.
However, with time and consumption, I've learned not to give a damn and to say to myself, if worst comes to worst, my heart gives out and I die, what can I do?
What worries me more is the cold.
Chapter 3: "Man, I'm gonna die if I don't warm up!"
I feel my brain "freezing" and with panic I start to run out of breath. I know I'm panicking, so I try to calm down, but a dilemma arises: to sit down and calm down to regain control, or to keep walking and moving to warm up.
My legs give way under the weight of me and my bag, and I'm weak. I feel like I'm going to faint at any moment.
I tell Martin to get help, I'm dying.
He told me it was impossible to freeze to death like that, that it would take a lot more. In fact, we had no way of judging our level of endangerment, my senses were incapable of perceiving the reality of my situation.
That's when things went off the rails, in my panic, I wanted to find help absolutely, I was heading for houses to knock and maybe get warm for a few moments.
For me, it was a matter of life and death.
I stood in the road for a car to stop so I could ask the driver to help us.
I didn't care if I ended up in a police office or a hospital, I didn't want to die like that!
Fortunately, Martin calmed me down, and despite all my efforts to make him panic: "But man, you're going to kill me if we don't get help right away, I'm going to collapse!", he remained reassuring.
So I followed him...
He convinced me to find a warm public place instead.
NB: Somewhere during this chapter I had the effect of my last bad trip where my perception would replace certain elements of reality like Martin's words.
I'd be looking for an answer to a question, and when he'd reply, I'd realize that I'm actually the one who decides what he says. He'd then smile mischievously at me, as if to say, "I'm you, you can't look for a solution from your perception of what I'm saying, because deep down, it comes from you, you know and you decide what I'm going to say".
Of course, this was all just my perception.
Chapter 4: Echoes
->06:00, the coldest part of the night.
At that moment, my constraints, which were the world, nature and fortune, as well as the tempo I set myself, became Martin's constraints.
I judged my perception as misleading and trusted his word and description of reality.
That's when things got out of hand.
My perception of reality, which was the reality modified by my brain on LSD, became my imagination interpreting the modified perception of reality in Martin's brain.
Me, standing on the road with Martin pulling me by the arm to leave, was described by him like: "but fatso I had to drag you off the road you were in the middle of it you were going to get run over".
From here on, events are not necessarily in order. Until 08:00, when I started to come to my senses, my memories are affected by amnesia induced by panic, LSD and mild hypothermia.
My memories don't really have spatial or temporal continuity; they're feelings, perceptions and delusions. Telling the story of a psychosis is complicated, but so is telling how fears and ideas materialize in my perception.
It should be noted that I'm going to tell my perception of the story, but no one can really say what really happened.
At one point, we enter a bank to warm up and some people accost us, one saying something to me about my pants :
"Hey, that's a nice sarouel you're wearing!
-Did you see that, I'm a class act ^^"
Then it's off again.
Martin later describes this scene to me as, "Some homeless people wanted to shake us down, so I dragged you into a bank and blocked the door and they left."
He was completely exaggerating things and I thought my perception of reality was wrong, that I wasn't standing next to him and that I was passed out on the floor.
I didn't even connect his description to the moment we entered a bank. In the panic I couldn't remember anything.
I was as vulnerable as could be, and for me he'd dragged my lifeless body by the sack to lock us in a bank where people were banging on the windows to kill and rob us.
As with my November bad trip, my perception was swirling and had nothing to do with reality.
All my deepest fears, exacerbated by the gloom of the nocturnal city, were giving me hell.
I could feel my phone being ripped from my hand as if it were being stolen, and I had to clutch at it with all my might.
I thought I'd pissed my pants as I passed out on the floor, my phone going limp and slipping from my hands into the back of my pocket.
I was afraid that the people trying to shake us down would find us and stab me, stealing all my stuff.
I thought about my family, they didn't even know where I was, they thought I was dancing at a party.
I was going to die without being able to tell them I loved them one last time.
I saw the highlights of my life flash by.
I told Martin how much I loved him and apologized.
I was having a panic attack and was using every possible technique to de-stress.
Looking back, I feel sorry for myself. I was all scared and shaky, dying. I was doing breathing exercises, focusing on the positive and clinging to the reality of my love for Martin to stay clinging to reality.
Sometimes I'd chant the ॐ mantra, sometimes I'd hum the rhythm of tekno music, like a warrior chant, the free party music gave me courage. "BOOM BOOM BOOM BOOM"
The hallucinations gave us the impression of going round in circles in the city, with buildings taking on the same appearance.
Even sober, we were lost in this unfamiliar city - imagine on LSD at night.
NB: Somewhere during this chapter, cornered and terrified, like a beast fighting for its life, I had a jolt of adrenaline, which made me clench my jaw and roar. For a moment my body went into survival mode and I felt the urge to fight for my life: "RHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA". Unfortunately, the LSD soon took over and a phenomenon that often happens to me when I'm stressed under psyches occurred.
In the middle of a square where we were advancing, a car arrived, we could only hear its roar and see the light of its headlights.
The sound, like imminent danger, overwhelmed me and grew louder with dozens of other cars arriving, creating ever more noise, threatening to implode me. The height of overwhelmingness came just before the car appeared.
I was kind of proud as it was my first time handling that perception flood without going bananas.
Chapter 5: The saving soul's last stand
Miraculously, we finally arrived at the station.
But it was closed and we were in the last phase of the night's low temperatures.
By now, the temperature would only be rising, but our body temperature was still low, having been depleted throughout the night.
Martin had the idea of taking refuge in an AirBNB so we wouldn't die like dogs in the street.
No matter how expensive the room.
He then asked me to get out some money as he didn't have his card or any cash.
All I could perceive in the blizzard of my troubled senses was "get your money out quick".
I thought we were being shaken down at gunpoint.
I got down on my knees, feverish, submissive, and started searching through my things. I had to hurry, fast, fast.
Martin kept repeating to me "vite, vite". I took it to be the words of the thief/thieves.
But blown up on LSD, my memory and ability to search my bag were greatly diminished.
Then I had a thought.
In Mr.Robot, Elliot deplores the fact that money and its invisible hand in capitalist society control our lives. Making us prostitute ourselves, killing us slowly, damaging us to the very depths of our souls.
I was being killed, stabbed, beaten for my money.
Money was going to kill me.
I don't remember exactly what I said to Martin, but he told me later that I would have firmly refused him the money.
He took it for cheapness.
He didn't realize the hell he was putting me through with his descriptions of his perception of reality.
I couldn't blame him, he's probably the one who saved me from ending up in hospital or at the police station.
He was my messiah and my executioner.
If my paranoid torpor continued, it was because Martin was keeping us in a hurry and panic by running around.
For a moment I wanted to stop running, but I realized that in fact it was the only cause of these problems.
That, in fact, we were running in a loop, each movement only pushing us further into the loop.
I wanted to stop time, to stop moving forward, to stop listening to him, I felt as if I'd solved the riddle.
The easy thing was to follow him, to run around, not to face life.
I see it as a good analogy for the kind of life we can lead, where we're always running and having to hurry.
Sometimes we have to say "Enough. STOP." and stop, step back, take back control of our lives.
After that, we took refuge in the airtight public toilets where we could warm up the atmosphere, sitting in vomit and piss.
I slowly came to my senses and the amnesia of the cold and the LSD dissipated.
Until now, I wasn't sure whether we were really in mortal danger or not.
Martin tells me later that when we entered the bathroom, we were gray, cold and withering.
NB: All medical signs of mild hypothermia were checked off;
Mild hypothermia (35°C to 32.2°C):
The patient remains conscious, but with phases of amnesia, apathy or speech difficulties. Judgment and adaptation to the situation are impaired.
There is cutaneous vasoconstriction with pale, cold skin, shivering and horripilation. Blood pressure and heart rate are elevated. Breathing is rapid (tachypnea), but with low thoracic amplitude.
My head was poorly covered and my heart unable to warm my body properly, I think that's why I was so cold.
Chapter 6: All's well that ends well
We hung out in the shithouse for an hour and a half, drinking beers and chatting about our adventures.
At 08:30, the station opened. We went to wait for our 09:00 train, and a few minutes later we were finally inside, saved.
Exhausted but safe and sound, we could finally see the smiles on our soiled, poor devils' faces.
In our eyes, we could see the influence of narcotics through our still dilated pupils, but above all we could observe the haggard look of those who have just come through an ordeal that has not left them unscathed.
Like a grandfather plunging into his memories staring into space at the airport, I gazed pensively out of the train window.
As fate would have it, our failed party was in the path of many of my previous raves.
So I was able to step back in time and relive my memories of the day after a free party.
I could almost see myself on the platforms of the stations we passed. It was a bit like reviewing pleasant moments from my past. It was great.
I was still maxi ripped, social interactions were catastrophic. A ticket inspector spared us too many spoken words by closing his eyes on our tickets, both inadvertently in my name.
We then returned to Martin's, taking up the seats we'd had at 21:00 the night before, dressed the same, it was almost as if nothing had happened.
Physically, little had changed, but psychologically we'd probably be scarred for life by the experience.
We decided to make this day the anniversary of our friendship.
Watching comedy series after the night we'd just had seemed almost too light and easy.
The day ends at midnight, after a few more hours of train travel and walking home.
The balance sheet:
This is the nth bad trip TR and I don't know if it represents any real interest beyond entertainment and reading, which I hope was pleasant.
There are a lot of things that are fairly obvious to everyone that are important to remember: don't use in a place where you're likely to die, don't be vulnerable in a place that's not conducive to it.
Not to be unmanageable when it was you who initiated the idea of the trip. Not tripping without an anchor to reality if it's important to have access to it in case of need.
In fact, I knew all that. 1 month earlier I had taken 400µg at home, and it had gone well.
Doses had become abstract numbers.
I had my eye on the 600µg, so it seemed reasonable to take 300µg.
But I had forgotten that my maximum dose was 400µg and that I was already well under 300µg+.
So I learned from this unpleasant experience that the dose is part of the set and settings.
A 400µg in a familiar, welcoming, safe environment will perhaps be less "powerful" than a 300µg in hypothermia lost at night in the middle of the city.
Doses are not linear, and we mustn't forget what LSD is capable of.
Experience is a factor, but I think that if I had to take LSD again in high doses in a life-threatening situation, I'd probably freak out just as much if I had no way of gauging reality.
So what can you do if you're in a situation where you vitally need to analyze reality but are incapable of doing so?
I'm going to turn the answer into advice to "my-me-who-is-bad-tripping":
Don't rely on the perception of someone under a spell, or on your own, skeptical self.
Rushing leads to mistakes and assumptions because we don't have time to question our perception. Just sit back and breathe. The fear of dying is killing you more than death itself. You've been there, you're not going to die, and even if fortune is against you, you're going to make it. Have a good laugh, take the pressure off, listen to a sound you like, enjoy the moment and being alive. Don't let fate spoil your trip! Be free!
Remaining work :
I then re-tripped two weeks later with 200µg and during this trip, I realized that I was actually really traumatized by my freezing experience.
I'm afraid of the cold at night now, I'm quite uncomfortable walking outside in the cool of the night.
Now I sometimes think when I go for a walk in the evening, "Would I be able to survive as a homeless person if from now on I couldn't go home?"
Though, it doesn't cause me any daily stress.
But my confidence in my ability to handle psychedelics is greatly reduced.
After the 400µg I thought I'd become invincible, I wanted to do a breakthrough on DMT and then maybe try a trip to 600µg.
The trajectory of my psychonautical launch pointed far into the sky.
This unfortunate experience, in which I was irresponsible, unmanageable and a danger to myself and those close to me, left me very frustrated and disappointed in myself.
I don't hate myself, I'm just disappointed because I perceived my situation differently.
In the end, it calmed me down a bit and I'm slowly picking myself up by reading philosophy.
I also realized that my paranoia about my heart was ruining my life. It's calmed down over the years, and I've managed to reduce the anxiety it generated and that generated it, but it's not enough.
When I use, feeling my heart beat makes me anxious. I believe deep down, consciously or unconsciously, that I could die soon. I'm tired of being tortured by this overwhelming fear of dying of a heart attack or whatever when I take drugs. I avoid talking about heart health almost superstitiously when I'm under the influence.
I wrote this TR in order to better integrate this experience, as I still don't fully understand its impact.
Thank you for reading, this text is very long and looks like a diary, but I think the public forum of the Internet is a good place to talk about your concerns because it's easy to talk to strangers who can't judge you, as they don't know you.
Don't hesitate to share your tips for better integrating the trip in response to the topic, kisses.
TheCrimsonElephant
