DroidOpioid
Bluelighter
- Joined
- May 26, 2010
- Messages
- 85
About a week ago, I tripped on my first psychedelic ever.
I was not prepared for it. I was irresponsible, and did it with the worst set and setting imaginable: during my last day of community service, which I can't stand (worst job ever, especially since you aren't being paid to do it. The reason I was assigned it was related to hacking, nothing drug-related though. I actually committed the offense way back before I ever tried my first drug.)
Try not to laugh as I describe how I prepared my drug; it wasn't a laughing matter at the time. Well, ok... LOL. Now that that is over with:
Makeshift tea, made with 25 Passion Flower leaves, put in a cup in the microwave with water and boiled for 2 minutes. Strained, and drank with 140 pulverized Heavenly Blue morning glory seeds.
This was in the morning, before I left to perform my remaining service hours. I went jump on the trampoline and listen to my music player to get a good start on the day.
What was I thinking? I was expecting to experience some euphoria with cool visuals, but at the same time be able to handle it enough to act normally around superiors. Fail. Well, this isn't the first time in my life that I have to learn something the hard way. I obviously (and intentionally) disregarded all the information I had read on the net regarding responsible use of psychedelics.
I took half of a 25mg diphenhydramine pill to help with the nausea. Around 2 hours later, I became nauseated, and held it in. I later figured I should throw up before I start my service hours, but I couldn't. Right before I began my hours, the euphoria started coming on, but very subtle. More like a mood lift. Usually I walk into the office in a very bad mood, say good morning with a sigh, and start my yard work. Instead, I waltzed in with a swag, a big smile on my face, eager for what I thought awaited me.
I wouldn't have been so eager if I had known that I was about embark on the most emotionally painful experience in my entire life.
After another couple hours had passed, I noticed my pupils had suddenly dilated to massive size (almost DXM size). This is the cue I was waiting for; I had been constantly visiting the bathroom to check my pupils so I would know when the trip was starting.
It took another half hour for the 'trip' to actually begin. I say trip, but there were never any genuine visuals. Nothing beyond the occasional random color streak or flash in the corner of my eye.
I had to move some very heavy boxes, and at this time my mind started to leave reality. Everything began to feel surreal. But, I was expecting this. Unfortunately, my mood lift was gone. What replaced it was a pathetic yearning for something awesome to happen, like a sudden blast of euphoria or something. I rubbed my fingers together... hoping they would feel 'different.' Indeed. It felt like my hands were made of latex. Pretty cool. I entertained myself my rubbing my fingers together...
Then, I heard some faint music coming from the radio in the kitchen down the hall. Hey, I thought, I wonder what cool effects the music will induce? Well, the music was very depressing. Some lady singing some very slow, and melancholy Soul. A new emotion accompanied the gargled music... I can't define it, except that it was very, very, surreal, and very depressing and dark. And sad.
Then, one of my superiors started instructing me where to move certain boxes. I freaked out when I realized I couldn't understand hardly anything he was saying. It was like, I barely understood English. I struggled to understand, and he had to clarify what he said like 4 times.
That is when the trouble began. I then realized that I had 6 hours left to go with these people, I couldn't understand English, and this was only the beginning.
I went into the bathroom, trying to kill as much time as possible. But it seemed that every-time I came out to check the clock, only a couple minutes had passed when it seemed like half an hour.
I heard someone coming, and scurried back into the bathroom. A very small room, like 6x6, but when I laid on the floor (yes, it was a clean bathroom... lol), it felt like the room expanded to twice it's size. The plastered ceiling began melting. Then, it turned green, where it was white before. Then the room began breathing... it would get bigger, than compress. I wasn't afraid it would crush me; I found this entertaining. Especially when I realized I could influence it to expand or contract... with my mind.
Actually, before this all happened, the first sign that the trip was starting, besides my pupils, was when I was trying to piss and had my hand against the wall, and noticed that it oddly resembled a vulture's talon. Wtf.
Fast forward a couple hours. After freaking the hell out after being told where to save the trash, and realizing that I had no clue where to save it, just left it. I took a trash bag and pretended to clean the cemetery.
Then I began to lose my mind. Most everything I had experienced at that point I had kind of expected from experience reports, but I couldn't understand why the trip was so, so, dark and depressing. My mind as running a hundred miles an hour, and it was like my body was on autopilot, cleaning the yard like normal, but my brain was self-destructing through emotional suicide. I didn't realize it at the time, but my greatest fear, looking back, was being caught incoherent, fired when I just about to finish my hours, and sent to the police. And that, I guess, is the source of my anxiety and the HORRIBLE trip.
Then, the surreal-ness of the experience itself began to become unreal in a surreal way. Yes, very unreal. I felt that I was losing it. Then, I recalled from the vague memory on some forums, that a good way to help a tripped in a bad trip is to give them something familiar and bring them back to reality. I decided to try focusing on picking up the trash, forcing myself to remember how much I hated this job, how many hours of my life were practically wasted, and how hot the sun was, because this is how it was almost every day for the past few weeks.
It worked. For a few seconds. Then my nitrous-fueled, anxiety-filled brain would get distracted by some sense of impending doom, and the surrealness of it all, and my mind would plunge back into the darkness. The worst part? The endless loops of abstract thought. They wouldn't end... like, as some site put it, 'a hall of endless mirrors.' And I had to struggle to bring myself back to reality by... picking up trash.
I noticed that the more I used this connection to reality, the less familiar it became, and less effective. So I decided to pretend I needed the bathroom. I began to walk towards the restroom, trying to recreate the times where I actually had went to the bathroom on a normal day. But when I got closer to the restroom, I got scared I would run into someone, and went back.
Fast-forward an hour. It's noon... lunch-time. I get out my sandwich, and my book ("Lies The Government Told You - Judge Napolatino"). How fitting, huh? Lol.
I could barely enjoy my delicious sandwich. I was too paranoid, intent on making sure that the co-worker who was chilling in the same room didn't notice how fucked up I was. When the hell would she leave? Damn. I thought I would be able to sit out my trip in the room alone, but on this day of all days, she has to come in the same room? Arrrgh. Really rude of me to think like that... but I was going insane with paranoia. I couldn't stop playing in my head the idea of what would happen WHEN I WOULD CERTAINLY get caught, sent to the cops, and jailed. Because, it was BOUND to happen.
Did I mention the sense of impending doom?
After I realized I could not read further than a couple of sentences and actually comprehend what I was reading, I went outside and sought refuge from civilization behind a mausoleum. The dark sky, blackening with rain clouds, and the thunder, did not help my mood at all. It reminded me of that place in the Outlands on World of Warcraft, the Ether, Etherlands, or something. Maybe the Nether. Anyone who has played the game knows how dark and evil and depressing that place is.
Fast forward an hour. I'm sitting with my book in my lap, pretending to read IN CASE someone catches me. I'm rocking back and forth, in total mental anguish. Every few seconds, a heavy load of emotional distress plunges me into emotional hell, sending me literally groveling on the ground. Never has clawing at the earth felt so comforting. Then, I'm resurrected, my anxiety slightly relaxes it's grip on my psyche, and I hope and pray to God that it is over.
And then I'm sent back into mental hell, grovelling at the ground again.
Then, the worst began to happen. I began to think I was dying, literally.
It was kind of weird, because I had expected these thoughts to manifest themselves at some point, considering how bad of a trip I was having. Fortunately, this was one of the few things I was mentally prepared for, so I could (if I struggled) brush it off. But they kept coming back, with astounding persistence! And then, they started to make sense... I was dying, my neurotransmitters were firing off like fireworks, and were going about unchecked, because I ate some passion flowers, which contain harmine, a MAOI, which cause a hyper-intensive crisis, which makes you DIE.
I'm amazed I got myself out of that distressing cycle of thought. But all I simply had to do was look at my arm, check out my veins, and heart rate, and realize I was physically fine.
But of course, the excruciating fear that I was going to get caught didn't let go of me. How fortunate is it, I thought, that the local hospital is JUST OVER THE FENCE?
I got up and walked across the cemetery several times, with the intent of checking into the emergency room, but circled back when I changed my mind.
Eventually, I made up my mind and just went. I had to walk along the high way for a short bit, and I was wondering if I was stable enough to not get hit by a car. I had to pass through a small construction site, and amidst several workers. THEY WERE LOOKING AT ME. Oh, never mind, it is just my mind and anxiety. BUT HE IS LOOKING AT ME! HE WILL NOTICE MY PUPILS! Pfft, brush it off, it is just the drug.
I took forever to find the emergency room, even though there were signs literally everywhere pointing to where it was. I got lost in the hospital several times.
I found a clerk or whatever at a desk, finally, and said... simply, "Ms., I have a problem."
Her: ?
Me: "I took.. a drug.. and.."
Her: Oh, wait baby, you took a drug? What kind of drug?
Me: "Umm... a hallucinogenic drug, you know, like LSD.."
She was really young, and obviously not very concerned. Throughout our conversation, she was distracted by her co-workers and joked with them about trivial stuff the entire time, which was, mind you, ETERNITY.
I guess I didn't appear in trouble, to a sober person. But boy, my mind was on a roller-coaster in hell.
I had to wait forever for a nurse to tell me I could go in the emergency room, but by that time, I was so far gone that I could only look at my feet, holding back my tears, and struggle to ask her to show me the way, and incoherently complain that I was afraid I would do something stupid, because I was under the influence, and I might just walk out suddenly.
The main thing I was afraid of, at the time, was getting some sudden burst of euphoria, thinking it was over, walking out, then getting hit again with anxiety and getting caught.
I tried to tell them that, but I was pretty incoherent, and choking on tears.
I was eventually invited in to a room, where I laid down on the bed, had my blood and vitals checked, and informed that I was fine. I kept requesting to be sedated. I even asked for Xanax. I could barely talk, and I was struggling to tell them that I would be more coherent and less paranoid if I was given even a mild tranquilizer. But they said no drugs were detected in my urine, and I told them I knew that, LSA was undetectable, and they said, well, any kid could walk in saying he is on drugs.
Did I mention how AMAZING it felt to piss? Damn, it took like half the load off my mind just to piss. Finally, I found comfort. I began to drink, and requesting water the entire time, just to piss over and over and over again. I probably pissed like 6 times in that hour and a half. I even asked for a diuretic, or just some coke. The nurse laughed, and said, nope, just water. It's good for you.
8)
The worst thing about chilling in the emergency room? They kept on leaving me by myself! I begged for a clock, but they didn't have one. NOBODY had a freaking clock! I asked every nurse that visited me, like 5 different ones. Every time I was left by myself, I quickly lost sense of time, and one second felt like eternity. And then I would become delusional, and hear my family talking, and think that they had (Somehow???) found out where I was, and were looking for me. And they would turn me in to the cops.
Then the nurse would come check on me, and I could come back to reality.
I finally discovered there was a clock on the electric machine at the head of my bed, but it was in army time, and in my mental state, I had a lot of trouble translating it.
Eventually, I had to come to terms with the fact that they were only going to let me chill, and that was it. No drugs to calm me down; I would have to endure the agony.
I did. Looking back, it was good for me. I deserved it.
When it was time for my parents to pick me up, I let the staff at the hospital know I felt fine, and I checked out. I was still paranoid, and the rest of that day sucked.
I had to endure waiting in the car at Wal-Mart while my parents went in for a few minutes. To my wrangled mind, it seemed that everybody that walked by in the parking lot had a familiar face. That little kid, he was my step-brother. Wait... he is North Carolina? How did he get here? Oh yea, it is just the drugs.
Then I saw a friend walk by. I knew his name... that was Travis. He went in Wal-Mart. Then Travis walked out... wearing different clothes! Wtf. Oh, it must be the drugs.
This went on forever,
I couldn't sleep that night, but when I woke up the next morning, damn, I felt amazing. :D
All the colors were super bright, and vivid, just like I had read they would be the day after. I was in a super good mood all day, not euphoric, but really happy.
That wasn't the best part, though. I soon realized, after 2 or 3 days, that something about me was altered permanently. I couldn't put a finger on it, but wait... yes! I have NO anxiety. Now, this will be hard to explain, but I will do my best.
Since I was about 11, I have experienced some form of social anxiety. I enjoyed people, sometimes, in certain situations. I had a very big ego, and was easily insulted, and embarrassed. I did not look forward to social outings, going to the movies, etc. I did look forward to returning home, retiring to my room, and falling asleep listening to music. That was it; it was sad, really, there were two things I enjoyed in life: a good hard workout, and music. Not people. People were at the bottom of my list of 'fun things.' I was content to just lay around, listening to music as much as I could. Video games were next. I was addicted to shooter games, like Modern Warfare 2. That was all I did, besides pretending to have a social life, and pretending to give a crap about all the things I did with my friends.
I guess I hung out with my friends because I thought I would eventually get 'used' to it, to like it, like they did. But I couldn't. What little enjoyment I had in social settings was outweighed by the anxiety, and boredom, it caused.
Did I mention that even though I knew it wasn't smart, I was always thinking about getting high in some way? I had a stint with opiates a year ago that NOBODY really knows about. The only reason I didn't find myself in rehab was because my dealer(s) got expelled from school. The fact that the medicine cabinet was packed with painkillers didn't help either. Do I regret my stint with opiates, going drunk, or high, or both to school? Chugging Listerine and Robitussin and Codeine? No.
Another one of those things that I learned the hard way, isn't worth it. And I was fortunate enough to not have to get physically addicted and have my friends, or family, or ANYONE find out.
Shall I get to the point? I have no social anxiety (not any abnormal anxiety, anyways).
I get really bored, really fast, and feel unproductive if I'm just chilling with music.
I didn't understand how to cure my boredom, at first, but I soon found out. People! I love people now! I'm already flirting with a girl, and this time, I'm genuinely interested in her.
I also have lost the urge to jack off almost every day. I sickened myself every time I did it.
I'm more motivated to do productive things. Since lounging around, music, and the PS3 don't make me feel content anymore, I find myself scheduling outings with friends, planting a garden, swimming, watching movies with company, etc.
And this change came about suddenly, as a result in some way, from my horrible, horrible, psychedelic experience. It has been a week, and while the artificial mood lift has subsided, and the amazing colors are gone, the new me remains! Well, I shouldn't say new me, because I'm still the same person. It's just, now, my emotions are stable, and I can relate to other people better.
I'm a devout Catholic, (or I try to be) so I may not be able to relate well to other's experiences when they believe they have contacted supernatural beings, or have had realizations about life that show them there is no god, or what ever beliefs they discover from psychedelics, but I still want help from you guys.
Mainly, how the hell did this happen? How has my life been changed for the better, permanently, it seems, from such a horrendous experience?
And... can I be improved even further? I don't want to try my luck too much, because honestly, I'm content to put aside psychedelics for good instead of risking losing everything I've gained from my first experience.
But you can't blame me for being curious about becoming and even better person through the responsible use of these (amazing!) drugs.
I may have worded this poorly, but I'm getting bored because it has been like an hour and a half I've typed this, but I hope somebody reads this can tries to help me out.
Thanks.
I was not prepared for it. I was irresponsible, and did it with the worst set and setting imaginable: during my last day of community service, which I can't stand (worst job ever, especially since you aren't being paid to do it. The reason I was assigned it was related to hacking, nothing drug-related though. I actually committed the offense way back before I ever tried my first drug.)
Try not to laugh as I describe how I prepared my drug; it wasn't a laughing matter at the time. Well, ok... LOL. Now that that is over with:
Makeshift tea, made with 25 Passion Flower leaves, put in a cup in the microwave with water and boiled for 2 minutes. Strained, and drank with 140 pulverized Heavenly Blue morning glory seeds.
This was in the morning, before I left to perform my remaining service hours. I went jump on the trampoline and listen to my music player to get a good start on the day.
What was I thinking? I was expecting to experience some euphoria with cool visuals, but at the same time be able to handle it enough to act normally around superiors. Fail. Well, this isn't the first time in my life that I have to learn something the hard way. I obviously (and intentionally) disregarded all the information I had read on the net regarding responsible use of psychedelics.
I took half of a 25mg diphenhydramine pill to help with the nausea. Around 2 hours later, I became nauseated, and held it in. I later figured I should throw up before I start my service hours, but I couldn't. Right before I began my hours, the euphoria started coming on, but very subtle. More like a mood lift. Usually I walk into the office in a very bad mood, say good morning with a sigh, and start my yard work. Instead, I waltzed in with a swag, a big smile on my face, eager for what I thought awaited me.
I wouldn't have been so eager if I had known that I was about embark on the most emotionally painful experience in my entire life.
After another couple hours had passed, I noticed my pupils had suddenly dilated to massive size (almost DXM size). This is the cue I was waiting for; I had been constantly visiting the bathroom to check my pupils so I would know when the trip was starting.
It took another half hour for the 'trip' to actually begin. I say trip, but there were never any genuine visuals. Nothing beyond the occasional random color streak or flash in the corner of my eye.
I had to move some very heavy boxes, and at this time my mind started to leave reality. Everything began to feel surreal. But, I was expecting this. Unfortunately, my mood lift was gone. What replaced it was a pathetic yearning for something awesome to happen, like a sudden blast of euphoria or something. I rubbed my fingers together... hoping they would feel 'different.' Indeed. It felt like my hands were made of latex. Pretty cool. I entertained myself my rubbing my fingers together...
Then, I heard some faint music coming from the radio in the kitchen down the hall. Hey, I thought, I wonder what cool effects the music will induce? Well, the music was very depressing. Some lady singing some very slow, and melancholy Soul. A new emotion accompanied the gargled music... I can't define it, except that it was very, very, surreal, and very depressing and dark. And sad.
Then, one of my superiors started instructing me where to move certain boxes. I freaked out when I realized I couldn't understand hardly anything he was saying. It was like, I barely understood English. I struggled to understand, and he had to clarify what he said like 4 times.
That is when the trouble began. I then realized that I had 6 hours left to go with these people, I couldn't understand English, and this was only the beginning.
I went into the bathroom, trying to kill as much time as possible. But it seemed that every-time I came out to check the clock, only a couple minutes had passed when it seemed like half an hour.
I heard someone coming, and scurried back into the bathroom. A very small room, like 6x6, but when I laid on the floor (yes, it was a clean bathroom... lol), it felt like the room expanded to twice it's size. The plastered ceiling began melting. Then, it turned green, where it was white before. Then the room began breathing... it would get bigger, than compress. I wasn't afraid it would crush me; I found this entertaining. Especially when I realized I could influence it to expand or contract... with my mind.
Actually, before this all happened, the first sign that the trip was starting, besides my pupils, was when I was trying to piss and had my hand against the wall, and noticed that it oddly resembled a vulture's talon. Wtf.
Fast forward a couple hours. After freaking the hell out after being told where to save the trash, and realizing that I had no clue where to save it, just left it. I took a trash bag and pretended to clean the cemetery.
Then I began to lose my mind. Most everything I had experienced at that point I had kind of expected from experience reports, but I couldn't understand why the trip was so, so, dark and depressing. My mind as running a hundred miles an hour, and it was like my body was on autopilot, cleaning the yard like normal, but my brain was self-destructing through emotional suicide. I didn't realize it at the time, but my greatest fear, looking back, was being caught incoherent, fired when I just about to finish my hours, and sent to the police. And that, I guess, is the source of my anxiety and the HORRIBLE trip.
Then, the surreal-ness of the experience itself began to become unreal in a surreal way. Yes, very unreal. I felt that I was losing it. Then, I recalled from the vague memory on some forums, that a good way to help a tripped in a bad trip is to give them something familiar and bring them back to reality. I decided to try focusing on picking up the trash, forcing myself to remember how much I hated this job, how many hours of my life were practically wasted, and how hot the sun was, because this is how it was almost every day for the past few weeks.
It worked. For a few seconds. Then my nitrous-fueled, anxiety-filled brain would get distracted by some sense of impending doom, and the surrealness of it all, and my mind would plunge back into the darkness. The worst part? The endless loops of abstract thought. They wouldn't end... like, as some site put it, 'a hall of endless mirrors.' And I had to struggle to bring myself back to reality by... picking up trash.
I noticed that the more I used this connection to reality, the less familiar it became, and less effective. So I decided to pretend I needed the bathroom. I began to walk towards the restroom, trying to recreate the times where I actually had went to the bathroom on a normal day. But when I got closer to the restroom, I got scared I would run into someone, and went back.
Fast-forward an hour. It's noon... lunch-time. I get out my sandwich, and my book ("Lies The Government Told You - Judge Napolatino"). How fitting, huh? Lol.
I could barely enjoy my delicious sandwich. I was too paranoid, intent on making sure that the co-worker who was chilling in the same room didn't notice how fucked up I was. When the hell would she leave? Damn. I thought I would be able to sit out my trip in the room alone, but on this day of all days, she has to come in the same room? Arrrgh. Really rude of me to think like that... but I was going insane with paranoia. I couldn't stop playing in my head the idea of what would happen WHEN I WOULD CERTAINLY get caught, sent to the cops, and jailed. Because, it was BOUND to happen.
Did I mention the sense of impending doom?
After I realized I could not read further than a couple of sentences and actually comprehend what I was reading, I went outside and sought refuge from civilization behind a mausoleum. The dark sky, blackening with rain clouds, and the thunder, did not help my mood at all. It reminded me of that place in the Outlands on World of Warcraft, the Ether, Etherlands, or something. Maybe the Nether. Anyone who has played the game knows how dark and evil and depressing that place is.
Fast forward an hour. I'm sitting with my book in my lap, pretending to read IN CASE someone catches me. I'm rocking back and forth, in total mental anguish. Every few seconds, a heavy load of emotional distress plunges me into emotional hell, sending me literally groveling on the ground. Never has clawing at the earth felt so comforting. Then, I'm resurrected, my anxiety slightly relaxes it's grip on my psyche, and I hope and pray to God that it is over.
And then I'm sent back into mental hell, grovelling at the ground again.
Then, the worst began to happen. I began to think I was dying, literally.
It was kind of weird, because I had expected these thoughts to manifest themselves at some point, considering how bad of a trip I was having. Fortunately, this was one of the few things I was mentally prepared for, so I could (if I struggled) brush it off. But they kept coming back, with astounding persistence! And then, they started to make sense... I was dying, my neurotransmitters were firing off like fireworks, and were going about unchecked, because I ate some passion flowers, which contain harmine, a MAOI, which cause a hyper-intensive crisis, which makes you DIE.
I'm amazed I got myself out of that distressing cycle of thought. But all I simply had to do was look at my arm, check out my veins, and heart rate, and realize I was physically fine.
But of course, the excruciating fear that I was going to get caught didn't let go of me. How fortunate is it, I thought, that the local hospital is JUST OVER THE FENCE?
I got up and walked across the cemetery several times, with the intent of checking into the emergency room, but circled back when I changed my mind.
Eventually, I made up my mind and just went. I had to walk along the high way for a short bit, and I was wondering if I was stable enough to not get hit by a car. I had to pass through a small construction site, and amidst several workers. THEY WERE LOOKING AT ME. Oh, never mind, it is just my mind and anxiety. BUT HE IS LOOKING AT ME! HE WILL NOTICE MY PUPILS! Pfft, brush it off, it is just the drug.
I took forever to find the emergency room, even though there were signs literally everywhere pointing to where it was. I got lost in the hospital several times.
I found a clerk or whatever at a desk, finally, and said... simply, "Ms., I have a problem."
Her: ?
Me: "I took.. a drug.. and.."
Her: Oh, wait baby, you took a drug? What kind of drug?
Me: "Umm... a hallucinogenic drug, you know, like LSD.."
She was really young, and obviously not very concerned. Throughout our conversation, she was distracted by her co-workers and joked with them about trivial stuff the entire time, which was, mind you, ETERNITY.
I guess I didn't appear in trouble, to a sober person. But boy, my mind was on a roller-coaster in hell.
I had to wait forever for a nurse to tell me I could go in the emergency room, but by that time, I was so far gone that I could only look at my feet, holding back my tears, and struggle to ask her to show me the way, and incoherently complain that I was afraid I would do something stupid, because I was under the influence, and I might just walk out suddenly.
The main thing I was afraid of, at the time, was getting some sudden burst of euphoria, thinking it was over, walking out, then getting hit again with anxiety and getting caught.
I tried to tell them that, but I was pretty incoherent, and choking on tears.
I was eventually invited in to a room, where I laid down on the bed, had my blood and vitals checked, and informed that I was fine. I kept requesting to be sedated. I even asked for Xanax. I could barely talk, and I was struggling to tell them that I would be more coherent and less paranoid if I was given even a mild tranquilizer. But they said no drugs were detected in my urine, and I told them I knew that, LSA was undetectable, and they said, well, any kid could walk in saying he is on drugs.
Did I mention how AMAZING it felt to piss? Damn, it took like half the load off my mind just to piss. Finally, I found comfort. I began to drink, and requesting water the entire time, just to piss over and over and over again. I probably pissed like 6 times in that hour and a half. I even asked for a diuretic, or just some coke. The nurse laughed, and said, nope, just water. It's good for you.
8)
The worst thing about chilling in the emergency room? They kept on leaving me by myself! I begged for a clock, but they didn't have one. NOBODY had a freaking clock! I asked every nurse that visited me, like 5 different ones. Every time I was left by myself, I quickly lost sense of time, and one second felt like eternity. And then I would become delusional, and hear my family talking, and think that they had (Somehow???) found out where I was, and were looking for me. And they would turn me in to the cops.
Then the nurse would come check on me, and I could come back to reality.
I finally discovered there was a clock on the electric machine at the head of my bed, but it was in army time, and in my mental state, I had a lot of trouble translating it.
Eventually, I had to come to terms with the fact that they were only going to let me chill, and that was it. No drugs to calm me down; I would have to endure the agony.
I did. Looking back, it was good for me. I deserved it.
When it was time for my parents to pick me up, I let the staff at the hospital know I felt fine, and I checked out. I was still paranoid, and the rest of that day sucked.
I had to endure waiting in the car at Wal-Mart while my parents went in for a few minutes. To my wrangled mind, it seemed that everybody that walked by in the parking lot had a familiar face. That little kid, he was my step-brother. Wait... he is North Carolina? How did he get here? Oh yea, it is just the drugs.
Then I saw a friend walk by. I knew his name... that was Travis. He went in Wal-Mart. Then Travis walked out... wearing different clothes! Wtf. Oh, it must be the drugs.
This went on forever,
I couldn't sleep that night, but when I woke up the next morning, damn, I felt amazing. :D
All the colors were super bright, and vivid, just like I had read they would be the day after. I was in a super good mood all day, not euphoric, but really happy.
That wasn't the best part, though. I soon realized, after 2 or 3 days, that something about me was altered permanently. I couldn't put a finger on it, but wait... yes! I have NO anxiety. Now, this will be hard to explain, but I will do my best.
Since I was about 11, I have experienced some form of social anxiety. I enjoyed people, sometimes, in certain situations. I had a very big ego, and was easily insulted, and embarrassed. I did not look forward to social outings, going to the movies, etc. I did look forward to returning home, retiring to my room, and falling asleep listening to music. That was it; it was sad, really, there were two things I enjoyed in life: a good hard workout, and music. Not people. People were at the bottom of my list of 'fun things.' I was content to just lay around, listening to music as much as I could. Video games were next. I was addicted to shooter games, like Modern Warfare 2. That was all I did, besides pretending to have a social life, and pretending to give a crap about all the things I did with my friends.
I guess I hung out with my friends because I thought I would eventually get 'used' to it, to like it, like they did. But I couldn't. What little enjoyment I had in social settings was outweighed by the anxiety, and boredom, it caused.
Did I mention that even though I knew it wasn't smart, I was always thinking about getting high in some way? I had a stint with opiates a year ago that NOBODY really knows about. The only reason I didn't find myself in rehab was because my dealer(s) got expelled from school. The fact that the medicine cabinet was packed with painkillers didn't help either. Do I regret my stint with opiates, going drunk, or high, or both to school? Chugging Listerine and Robitussin and Codeine? No.
Another one of those things that I learned the hard way, isn't worth it. And I was fortunate enough to not have to get physically addicted and have my friends, or family, or ANYONE find out.
Shall I get to the point? I have no social anxiety (not any abnormal anxiety, anyways).
I get really bored, really fast, and feel unproductive if I'm just chilling with music.
I didn't understand how to cure my boredom, at first, but I soon found out. People! I love people now! I'm already flirting with a girl, and this time, I'm genuinely interested in her.
I also have lost the urge to jack off almost every day. I sickened myself every time I did it.
I'm more motivated to do productive things. Since lounging around, music, and the PS3 don't make me feel content anymore, I find myself scheduling outings with friends, planting a garden, swimming, watching movies with company, etc.
And this change came about suddenly, as a result in some way, from my horrible, horrible, psychedelic experience. It has been a week, and while the artificial mood lift has subsided, and the amazing colors are gone, the new me remains! Well, I shouldn't say new me, because I'm still the same person. It's just, now, my emotions are stable, and I can relate to other people better.
I'm a devout Catholic, (or I try to be) so I may not be able to relate well to other's experiences when they believe they have contacted supernatural beings, or have had realizations about life that show them there is no god, or what ever beliefs they discover from psychedelics, but I still want help from you guys.
Mainly, how the hell did this happen? How has my life been changed for the better, permanently, it seems, from such a horrendous experience?
And... can I be improved even further? I don't want to try my luck too much, because honestly, I'm content to put aside psychedelics for good instead of risking losing everything I've gained from my first experience.
But you can't blame me for being curious about becoming and even better person through the responsible use of these (amazing!) drugs.
I may have worded this poorly, but I'm getting bored because it has been like an hour and a half I've typed this, but I hope somebody reads this can tries to help me out.
Thanks.
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