Citation: 6a6nlsd. "Psychological Exfoliation: An Experience with 1P-LSD (exp109714)". Erowid.org. Dec 28, 2016. erowid.org/exp/109714
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16th December 2016
I'm a 23 year old student with significant experience with psychedelics including a range of lysergamides, phenethylamines and tryptamines. Just coming up on 6 years of regular tripping, close to 100 experiences under my belt. I am somewhat recently married (9 months in), and midway through my masters project, facing the stress of PhD applications.
The trip began fairly normally; the day before I had cleaned the flat, taken an account of my current psychological situation so far as I was conscious of it, and smudged the room with Palo Santo, myrrh and frankincense to set the scene. There had been the ordinary pre-trip jitters and a little extra minor anxiety knowing my wife wouldn't be about to muse upon or share thoughts with.
I decided, however, to press on. My notes on paper read “I deserve this, to relax, after a long semester”.
My notes on paper read “I deserve this, to relax, after a long semester”.
Little did I know there would be minimal relaxation to be had during this trip. Putting the one and a half blotters under my front lip, I began my session at 10am.
Normally, I don't get any real alerts for the first 45 minutes, but for some reason, barely 30 minutes in and only 15 minutes after swallowing the blotters, my pupils were blown and first effects were making themselves very much known. I began to feel a vague nausea and my hands shook gently.
I lay down and put on some music, trying to relax into the trip and flow with it, but something kept me a little on edge. Still, I consoled myself that this is how the come-up is, and put my head back to listen to the music. By an hour in, the music was causing a kind of intensified autonomous sensory meridian response, with tingles and chills running across my scalp and cascading across my body.
It was not until 90 minutes in that the headspace really began to develop, however, with a myriad of questions spilling everywhere across my mind: seemingly innocuous questions like “does the house feel homely because it is our home, or is it our home because it now feels homely?” all the way up to much larger questions like “how much of what we do as humans is just to elude the awareness of our mortality?”.
The thought speed increased progressively across the half hour up to noon, until my short term memory began to falter and I found myself getting to some level of schizotypal thinking, where I could not fully identify my self with some of the thoughts I was having, and so externalised them into some mental presence.
Whilst this projected entity was neither real nor malevolent, this was hard for me to process properly. I had some delusional notion of telepathic contact with some force outside my own mind which on reflection was essentially little more than an internal current of thoughts my ego couldn't attach itself too.
By about 12:45, however, some degree of reintegration was reached and I understood what had been happening. Still, the experience had been unsettling. I sat up and drank some water. My body still felt stiff and strained, and my jaw was tensed unnecessarily. I changed over the music and was able for 30 or so minutes to drift off a little and reach some level of mental calm, though I could still feel the tension in my body.
At about 13:15 (T+3h 15m) my flatmate returned home. We sat in the front room for several hours, listening to the playlist I had been listening to for the previous 30 minutes, generally conversing and messing about. There was, however, an ever present sense of chaotic neutrality to her. I felt equal parts amused and set on edge, as though beneath this seemingly jovial interchange there might lie the possibility of ill will towards me. This minor paranoia accompanied and went with the body tension, one increasing with the other despite there being little sense of any causal link between them.
After my flatmate returned to her room at about 16:15, the real psychoanalytic edge of the trip caught me sharp. I went down a kind of mental hole where I assessed my deepest fears. Ultimately, as some part of my mind pressed me for answers, I came to the conclusion that my deepest seated fear was that I didn't really care about anything, and that I was deluding myself into thinking I genuinely cared about anything beyond its use to me as a means to avoid facing mortality.
It then washed over me, this existential numbness to the world, as if to show me what that is really like. In retrospect, I appreciate it was to contrast to me the nature of that condition with my real experience of living. But at the time, I felt like I'd cracked my facade open and now my true nature was pouring forth. It was quite horrible.
It wasn't until I heard a thought come through my head that I realised that this state of apathy was an illusion. I heard myself say, subvocally “I wish [my wife] was here, I really need her right now”. This snapped me back to reality as I recalled all the sacrifices we make for one another, the sleepless nights spend worrying for one another, and the ecstatic joy I felt seeing her face on our wedding day. Like a heavy weight being lifted, I breathed a deep sigh of relief.
By now it was 17:00 and I went back to my music. Though still tense and a little anxious, I was at that point just waiting for her to get home so I could hug her and tell her I loved her. At nearly 18:00 she got home from a bad day at work, and I held her and tried to comfort her. It was melancholic but deeply rewarding to feel her and feel for her, sealing away that fear of all-pervading apathy.
At 19:00, feeling tense still, hot and uncomfortable, but with my wife happily chatting away to her mother, I went for a shower. The feeling of the cold water was like the washing away of all of the tension, a final catharsis at the end of what had been a whole day on edge to a greater or lesser extent.
I was down by 20:00, psychologically, though I could not sleep until 01:00 the next morning.
A brief note on the visual aspects: throughout, CEV were present and intricate, but always vaguely upsetting or off-putting, with faces and nauseatingly fast geometric morphing patterns. OEV were fairly tame, with decent tracing and some breathing, and limited translucent geometric forms.
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