Citation: Zero. "A Tear in Reality: A Warning: An Experience with Mushrooms, Cannabis & Alcohol (exp42551)". Erowid.org. Jan 17, 2007. erowid.org/exp/42551
Well, first, let me say that my first mistake was mixing psychoactives, when I knew that it was not wise. The night would have happened alot differently if I had of exercised better judgement.
I live in a university dorm, and that is where my experience took place. It was a Sunday night. I don't have monday classes, and I decided that I would purchase some mushrooms, and eat 1/16 of an ounce. I also had beer stocked up in my room, as well as marijuana.
At around 5pm, I purchased 1/2 ounce of mushrooms from a guy I knew and had bought from before. At 6pm, I dropped my car off at it's designated off campus parking spot, and ate roughly 1/16 ounce of the mushrooms (they were weighed out into 'eighths' in seperate bags) while I waited for a shuttle bus to arrive to take me back to campus. By 7pm, I was feeling the beginnings of a normal 'trip.' I was hanging out in my room with my roommate, and we had a few beers each. A friend of mine from down the hall asked if I was willing to go down there and smoke with him and his roommate if they paid me, since they were out of pot and could not find anymore.
So, at around 8pm, I grabbed a beer, grabbed a bag containing 1/8 ounce of marijuana, and headed down the hall. As well as bringing these items, I had the remainder of my 1/2 ounce of shrooms in my pocket. By this point I was tripping pretty good, had a bit of an alcohol induced haziness. I drank the beer I had brought, and part of one that they had in their room, and after hanging out for around 30 minutes (so this would be around 8:30pm) I handed my buddy my pot and told him to pack up a bowl. We continued smoking for about two hours, on an occasional basis. Needless to say, I became intensely 'high' from the marijuana, and this altered my trip.
At this point, my trip felt like the greatest thing I had ever experienced, and I wanted it to just keep going. At some point I reasoned that I should start eating a bit more, to add to it, or something. Obviously, my judgement was a bit warped. So, we were sitting around hanging out, and I was casually eating a shroom every now and then. By midnight or so, I reached into my pocket, and realized that there were no more shrooms, and realized (in a sort of passive manner) that I had eaten all of the 1/2 ounce. I thought on it for only a moment, because I was feeling great still, and then in a sort of 'oh well' way, shrugged it off and kept on watching tv.
By around 1am, things started to get pretty intense, and I was thinking in sort of paranoid ways. We were watching 'Anchorman' and I remember suddenly having a profound 'realization' that it was a brainwashing tool, and then I started to suspect that all of the people in the room were in on it. I knew it wasn't logical, as I was still somewhat tied to reality, so I didn't say anything about that, but I told my friends that I was a bit burnt out on the movie, and was heading back to my room. I walked down the hall and noticed some difficulty controlling my motor functions (I was leanin against the wall as I walked down the hall).
I got back into my room, and my roommate had been tripping also, on the normal dosage of 1/16 ounce of mushrooms. I told him I was feeling a bit odd, that I had eaten a half of an ounce, and that I was just going to lay down. While talking, I noticed a sense of being seperate from myself, and my talking seemed involuntary, and muffled, like I was underwater. My roommate said something or another about me looking pale and like I'd jumped out of the shower (talking to him after the fact, and from other people I encountered when things really went bad, I was pale white, and my hair was soaked with sweat as were my clothes). I didn't really reply.
On the way over to my bed, I fell down. I wasn't able to control my body it seemed, and I felt like I was several different entities discussing the situation and observing. Apparently, my roommate was talking to me, and I was just repeating 'help' in a quiet, monotone voice, like a robot. I felt really, really frightened. Yet at the same time, it was almost as if I was watching the fright, and seperate from myself. After a few minutes, I reached a point of clarity where it seemed as if the several entities I was split into were logically evaluating the situation (the conclusion was that my body was dying) and we (I) were ok with that, sad, but ok.
At some point I began to ramble off in the robotic voice instructions to my roommate, telling him to get sober people to get me out of the dorm, and then call an ambulance. My roommate was reasonably upset, and tripping, and he didn't remember those instructions. He couldn't figure out 911 (I know, funny and cliche, what's the number to 911?) but somehow managed to call the campus police number. So, the campus police arrived, and called an ambulance because I was going in and out of conciousness. I remember vaguely being carried into the ambulance and hospital.
At this point, I obviously wasn't aware of the time too much, but I peaked in the hospital. I ceased to really exist mentally in this world. It is hard to explain, and makes no logical sense, but I was in some other 'world', that seemed more or less like this one, but cleaner, better. Language... I just knew, felt what they were communicating.
After a couple of hours (real world) I became peaceful somehow. Not only was it a different place, but I did not have a body, I just seemed to exist as a part of this place. Also, my perception of time there seemed as if I had been there for many years. I remember a seperate life. I was convinced that I had died, and this was just the place that I was supposed to go. Throughout it all, entities would communicate with me.
I began to slip out of this other world, and it was an equally frightening experience. I felt like I was being ripped out of my afterlife. I eventually came to realize I was in a hospital, and was very unsure of how long I had been there, because to my mind, years had literally come to pass. I was very confused, and I had trouble communicating. I returned to the normal state of tripping gradually, and eventually it did end. Around 11am I was able to stand up and move about, and I checked out of the hospital.
It was a terribly frightening experience, and I don't feel like I'm the same person I was before. Also, this was only 3 weeks ago, and I find myself from time to time sliding back into a sense that this is not real, or that I am perhaps still tripping, because mentally, it seems like I was in the mushroom induced reality many, many times longer than I have been back in this reality. I would never repeat the experience, and would not suggest it to others, but I don't completely regret it either. I appreciate life so much more, and am optimistic about everything, because I remember what it felt like to 'know' I was dying/dead. I realized how much of my personal potential I have been wasting.
The event carried several real world consequences. One, I paid $100 dollars for that 1/2 ounce of mushrooms, and that was supposed to last for several different occassions, usually that will last me atleast a month, if not much longer. Two, I am suspended from the university for a semester because neither I or my roommate were in a sound enough state of mind to handle the situation better. Three, hospitals are expensive, and I have a $1000 dollar deductible, plus 20% of the costs are my responsibility beyond that initial $1000. I will be paying off this summer.
Also, if the campus police had wanted to, they could have royally fucked me, since they did 'search the room,' but did not document anything except the fact that I had shrooms and had a bowl in one of my desk drawers. They ignored the fact that I had marijuana in that same drawer, Adderall in my pocket, at least two cases of beer (all of this was left in the room too, oddly enough), and a vaporizer sitting out in the middle of the room. They did me a huge favor by not involving the state police, because then I would be dealing with a Federal legal process at some point.
I'm pretty sure that had they known (they were fairly ignorant about the severity of mushroom possesion and use) mushrooms were Schedule II, they wouldn't have even reported me that. I say that, because the next day, I called the main officer I had dealt with to get the details of what I was being charged with by the school, and what punishments they carried, and he was like 'Well, the shrooms will be a fine and community service, just like you would get for that marijuana if I had of reported it.' So, while I would rather that I hadn't dealt with the police at all, the officers did help me as much as they could, since I previously have a clean record. I could have been expelled from the university for the mushrooms, but because I cooperated, have great grades and agreed to drug counseling and a piss test prior to my reentrance to the university, I was only suspended for next semester, and will be allowed to finish this semester out.
Overall, the consequences were not worth it. The experience was not fun at all, even once I started to come down (because an emergency room with hurt and dying people is not what you want to be around when you're tripping). It was enlightening in many senses of the word, and I do value that, but it is not anything I would recommend to anyone, because I still feel some sense of uncertainty about even the basic aspects of who I am that have arisen from the experience. I'm trying to make the best of the aftermath, and learn from my mistake, but it was a very emotionally, spiritually breaking experience, and it'll be a good while before I put my life back together.
Zero - Tuesday, April 26, 2005
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