Citation: Fallsign. "Insane for a Day: An Experience with Morning Glory (Heavenly Blue) (ID 60902)". Erowid.org. Apr 23, 2007. erowid.org/exp/60902
[Erowid Note: 30 grams of Morning Glory is considered an extremely high dose, see Morning Glory Dose Chart]
I remember the taste of nothing. The seeds I had chosen from the hardware store had no labels letting on that they had been treated, so I took them as such. I noticed no chemical flavor. They tasted like nothing at all. In fact, I added ground salt for just a pinch of spice.
After an hour and a half or so, the trip started coming on very hard. I was vacillating between the den inside and the back yard, partly because I was unsure what was happening to me. I had only one mushroom trip to my experience. I would find that I was completely unprepared for what would happen next.
At the onset of the trip, at first, colors took on an aural sheen to their periphery. I remember staring at a brass sun wall decoration and seeing the diminishing daylight ricochet, refract and split into rainbows in the area directly in front of me. Following this, aural hallucinations began to creep from behind me to filling my mind with cackles and laughs. As the sun set outside, I began to see imaginary lines of my reality shoot out in front of me and vanish into perspective. From their extensions beyond me, the lines I saw began to bend until they broke. At the epicenter of their union, what I thought looked like a portal opened up. From the tear in my imaginary sky, demons, the ultimate source of the laughter, fell into my plane. Needless to say, this freaked me out beyond words and I decided it would be for the best if I went back inside.
My thought processes slowed down. I could not operate a remote control to turn on my television. My brain felt stupid. My inner voice was gone, replaced with an overwhelming static and my thoughts came slowly. When my dad asked me how I was feeling, I could not answer him. I had no words. I was beginning to lose my mind.
I remember watching the television and changing the channels non-stop. In my brain, I could not focus on a single point of thought. There was a violent ebbing of feeling in my mind. I began to fixate on the words from that seminal masterpiece of writing, A Scanner Darkly: “There are no weekend warriors on the D. You’re either on it, or you haven’t tried it.” Paranoia took hold. I knew this was only going to end badly.
I curled into a ball on the floor. In my mind, I was convinced that instead of taking a simple seed, I had instead taken Substance D, from the movie. I remember going through my house but I did not feel like I was moving. I can not remember any physical sensation, actually. I informed my dad, watching TV in another part of the house, that I had taken “Substance D” and, having done that, began to cry. My mother took me to the emergency room not long after she found out.
I remember lying in the back of the car with my eyes closed. I remember the voices of my mother and my aunt but I can not recall their conversation. In my mind, other happenings took precedence. I imagined that the sum of my high school anti-drug education was subliminal messaging that these seeds, my “Substance D,” were going to fry my brain. I saw myself (impossibly, but remember that I’m out of my mind right now) retching on the seats. I saw myself as a vegetable at the conclusion of my trip, due to my fixation on the movie. I expected to be in a waking coma, extensively brain damaged and permanently retarded. My brain felt like it was on fire.
I was almost to the hospital when the demon appeared. He told me, baritone and emotionlessly, that the car ride I was on was actually my death and I was now on my way to hell. Perhaps now my sheer panic is evident as the car door opened and I was escorted into the emergency intake ward at the hospital. Much like in A Scanner Darkly, peoples faces (especially the doctors) were oblique and cartoon-like. I remember trying to explain why I took the seeds, but to no avail. I wanted to say that I felt inspired by my favorite authors: Allen Ginsberg, Philip K. Dick, Burroughs, and Hunter S. Thompson all had their flings back in the day, experimenting and trying to revel in new consciousness… but no words came. I felt ashamed. I felt busted.
The trip was beginning to subside in intensity, but I would feel its effects on my brain, especially the paranoia and feeling of injury, throughout the night. Sleep did not come—my brain still was revving high and hotly. The entire night, I feared I had caused permanent damage to myself. My consciousness waned and for a few minutes, I was asleep.
The next day dragged on harshly. My mother dictated directions to me, but my brain was still recoiling in horror from the previous night of hell. I had no short-term memory. I had no memory at all. Words would not come and my conversations were short and terminal. I was convinced at this point that I was brain damaged. As the day progressed and I attempted to rest more, I started to feel better. By the end of evening I was able to eat solid food again, but just barely.
It has been over a month since my tragic miscalculation of dosage. I am back up at my university and I am still attending my classes. To my overwhelming joy, I have suffered no lasting ill effects. I realize now how much substance I actually took in, and I feel like I lucked out. I can not imagine how my trip could have been worse. Besides the terror, my family found out about this particular drug habit. But I am glad that my suffering was negligible. I have sworn off psychoactive drugs and everything except marijuana for my future. I even plan to kick the green eventually.
Never, EVER do what I did. A crash dose of LSA will likely give voices to inner demons you were previously aware of. I included many of my hallucinations but it’s not nearly all of them. The paranoia alone is unsettling and bending. Know from this story that horrible things happen when one loses all touch with reality. I have a new respect for those seeds (producing those little blue flowers—get it now?) and how they made me insane, for a day.
Experience Reports are the writings and opinions of the individual authors who submit them.
Some of the activities described are dangerous and/or illegal and none are recommended by Erowid Center.