Citation: Little One. "Waterpark Worries: An Experience with LSD (exp46587)". Erowid.org. Jun 16, 2006. erowid.org/exp/46587
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It was my third time ever doing acid, first time doing paper. I was convinced I had it under control, that I was the boss of this drug...but I was still a lightweight, this I knew. I only did it under safe conditions, with a person I trusted and loved, what could go wrong, right?
The first time I did acid was in Las Vegas. As I came up I was reminded of my early days in some dingy club doing X. That bubbly stomach feeling, the anticipation, the happiness and buzzing. It was a wonderful experience, hours spent watching sharks at Mandalay Bay, wandering around the Bellagio, having sex and showers back in the hotel room. I really liked that first experience, even if it was only one and a half hits of some fairly week liquid.
The second time was in another city away from home, spent on a rainy day at a zoo. We ran into another guy higher than a kite on acid, and I experience paranoia and alienation as we wandered the deserted downtown core. I did a bit more this time, and was a bit more nervous. There were moments where I felt like things were a bit different than my first trip, that they slipped out of my grip in my mind for a few moments, but they were fleeting, and only on the come down, and easily controlled. They did not compare to the spiral that was about to occur a month later.
In the fall of 2005 my parents went out of town. My boyfriend had gotten a hold of some rare (in our city) paper, with some beautiful art work on it. There were two sheets, one with relatively a normal scenes of pregnant women fucking, and gay men getting it on, and then the a crazy sheet with walking penises with bug legs and dogs fucking women. He did a hit when he got the paper, initially, the night after we had tried some 2CI. The effects were underwhelming, to say the least, and he said that the paper wasnít as strong as he had hoped for either. We now think that was just due to left over effects of the 2CI, possibly, as the paper was quite strong.
I planned to do three tabs, him four, and spend a few hours at the waterpark, riding on slides and on tubes, enjoying the giant playground it was. We got changed and I gave my stuff to my boyfriend for safekeeping in the menís locker room, suspecting I would be in no shape to find my locker in the sea of hundreds in the womenís locker room. It was early in the day on a weekday, about 1300h and there were dozens of young families, notably young teenage moms about. There was a distinct family air, and it made me feel a bit uncomfortable. But we played in the wave pool for a bit, and rode the slides that were open (with more to open at 1600h). I started to come up in the pool, and it felt great to be tossed about by my boyfriend and the waves, feeling like we were at the beach. The sun was shining through the glass ceiling, and the water seemed warm, the whole place tropical.
We decided to hit the slides again, and as we walked up the stairs, I started to feel a bit panicky. Iíve never gotten along well with heights, and the combination of the acid and slippery metal stairs were a bit much to handle. The wave motion from the pool had stuck with us, and we laughed as I reached for the handrail near the top of one of the super tall slides and commented that I wished the tower would stop swaying. In combination with this, the god-awful music they were playing began to echo and reverb throughout the metal and glass structure. It was ringing in my ears, and at times sounded like an insane troupe of monkeys in some jungle scene. It was a bit disorientating and got on my nerves, setting me on edge a bit.
Going down the slides was phenomenal. It was like flying on a carpet across clouds, gliding and sliding across the ocean, hydroplaning across a lake in early morning. Every turn and tunnel in the slide was a new adventure, even after the third or fourth time going down. The splashdown was like a full body orgasm, like being tossed about in a washing machine. It was incredible. The climb up, however, had gotten no easier, and I found I was getting a bit more disorientated. I was having trouble finding the stairs up, thinking I was going up a down, or that I would get in trouble from the young slide guards about. There seemed to be water water everywhere, without a drop to drink. The fountain was hidden well, and was near a small childrenís pool. I felt a bit guilty trying to maintain my laughing while we approached the fountain. Iíve never been able to wrap my head around the fact that no one can really tell if Iím on acid or not, and this was no exception. I decided I was getting worn out from being tossed about in the slides, and we went back to the main wave pool for a bit. It was about 1500h by now, and I was definitely feeling things strongly. There was a general feeling of happiness, but also a bit of confusion. I was getting tired quite fast, and a bit weary of all the work I had to do while on the slides. It was definitely worth all the work, but it was a bit tougher than I thought it would be, thatís all.
Back in the wave pool, the water seemed, suddenly, to be ice cold. The sun had disappeared behind some insane spiraling clouds. Ahhhh there were the visuals. The temperature of the water and the terrible music and auditory hallucinations were forgotten as I stared at the tropical themed mural. The palms trees swayed and the waves painted on the walls moved as if they were the real ocean. It was unbelievable, and better than the first two times I had done acid.
We decided the water was too cold, and went off to a hot tub to warm up. I was quite concerned we would spend too much time in there and our brains would boil, so I was constantly getting in and out of the water, too impatient to cool down full and too hot to stay in for long. There were about 10 people when we first go into the huge hot tub, and slowly everyone started to clear out. I became convinced it was because of my raucous laughter and crazy eyes, and started to feel self conscious again. The water was amazing, though, and I felt like I was becoming one with it. I became liquid, and was able to watch the murals and clouds at the same time if I wished, it was almost too much to handle. If I had been wearing pants, I would have peed in them. I finally understood why my boyfriend was such an acid fiend.
The heat of the hot tub, combined with the desire to do something different took hold, and we went for a water fountain walk. It was then that we saw they were powering up the slides for the 1600h opening. People were lining up for the new slides, ones with stronger water currents, more guards and signs declaring strong swimmers only. I felt more disorientated, and couldnít make my mind up on which slide I wanted to go on, but was too impatient and cold to wander over to the slide map to decide which one would be best suited for me. So instead, I told my boyfriend to go on the ominous looking slide with a deep splash pool. It was like a large funnel, and tossed people out at the end into a fast moving water tornado of sorts. My boyfriend had been a swimmer for many years, but I had trouble remembering this as I watched the water get turned on to the slide. Everyone seemed prepared to go on it, but I most definitely was not. My stomach was turning over and I had trouble controlling my thoughts. The guards at the bottom of the slide took up their position with their safety poles and picked up the phone to communicate with the slide operator at the top. What was my boyfriend getting himself into?
As I watched this happen, I was certain that I heard my boyfriendís distinctive laugh at the top of the slide. I suddenly felt worried that he was in trouble, that he couldnít control himself. I looked down to the slide again, and one of the guards was making a disgusted face, looking up as something splashed down. She covered her head, as did several people in the area. I thought someone screamed as they ran across the deck. Basically, I had imagined that someone had either gotten caught in the slide, or shit themselves and caused either blood or shit to go raining down on those below. I thought everyone was scurrying about in a panic, and that they had dragged someone who had fallen under a stairwell for treatment. I couldnít find my boyfriend. I started to imagine life without him, and got increasingly more tense. I started hyperventilating and staring away at nothing. I was distracted by a girl staring up at me, and I ran down a flight of stairs, wanting to find my boyfriend. I wanted to tell someone to please help me, Iím higher than Iíve ever been in my life, and I donít know whatís going on. Did someone get hurt? Is it my boyfriend. But I knew it wasnít feasible.
I looked to the slide again, and, miraculously (or, predictably, I suppose) my boyfriend splashed down. He was alright. I felt such extreme relief that I couldnít even tell him what I had just imagined. I wanted to go home. I was done. I was too scared, too high to be at the waterpark. He seemed to have no problems negotiating the waterslide and had only had problems with his contact. He tried to get me to help him to find it on his eye, but I couldnít see anything. The infernal music was infecting my brain again, and I felt like I was starting to panic again, as I didnít want to make him go home early. We had planned for weeks to go to the waterpark, and I didnít want to ruin the high I had going on. I leaned on his shoulder, and he asked me if I was hyperventilating on him. I didnít want to smother him or make him feel like we were on different trips, so I said no, and then urged him to go on another waterslide. This, despite being so worried something might happen to him, I didnít want to be apart from him. I said I was happier to watch people come down the slides, which was true, but I really wanted to be warm and dry.
I donít remember exactly what prompted him to suddenly understand I had had enough of the waterpark, but, he did. Heís magic like that. He grabbed a hold of my hand, and we were off. I told him I was having a hard time understanding what was real and what was not, when in reality I really should have told him that I didnít know who I was anymore. I was getting lost, confused, and pulled into a spiral of fear in my head. I was getting pulled into a bad trip.
He went into the menís locker room to get my stuff, and I pleaded with him to come right back, and even called after him into the locker room to not forget about me. I hung onto a construction railing, too scared to move, not really sure where I was. He came out with my bag, and said meet you on the other side. Little did he know how hard it was for me to get changed. I got lost in the showers, circling around them until I asked a girl where the changing area was. At the first patch of dry, I threw my clothes on over top. I remembered picking them earlier that day because they would be easy to get changed into, but they were anything but. I had almost forgotten at this point that I was high, and couldnít understand why I looked like a wet dog, why my hands were shaking, why I was so confused.
The rows of lockers faced me, and twice I almost walked back into the waterpark instead of into the lobby like I was supposed to. I followed two girls who seemed to know where they were going, and thankfully they did. My boyfriend was waiting for me on the other side, and not since the waterslide I thought I lost him on had I felt so relieved. He guided me out of the waterpark, even though I tried to go up the down escalator twice. I thought the mall was closing, that everyone was going home, that we were being rushed out, even though it was just barely 1630h.
The stores of the mall streaked by, and he guided me to where we were going to get a taxi. I wasnít sure where I was until I saw a Starbucks and felt oddly comforted by it. I felt like we were walking in loops, because my brain was definitely looping. I kept thinking about how high I was, and how my brain had created all I saw, and how amazing that was. Thinking a personís car was a taxi, I walked up to it. My boyfriend pulled me back, and asked what I was doing. We went up to a real taxi, and as I peered in the window, the driver seemed scared. He said he had somewhere to be, that he couldnít give us a ride to where we were going. I thought it was because he knew how fucked up I was, how I was confused and scared. We went back into the mall, and I kept pacing. There were security guards, and I felt scared. Why was I doing this again? If I didnít look high, why did I feel so high? Where they going to follow us? Were they following us from the waterpark? Oh god, did I do something at the waterpark, something really terrible DID happen there. The hotel concierge called us a taxi, and he seemed to be talking in a different language. Where were we? Where were we going? What would I do when I got there?
The next thing I remember, I struggled with a seatbelt in the taxi, and held onto my bag, as it was the only thing I vaguely remembered and felt comforted by. I wasnít even able to look at my boyfriend. I donít remember much after this portion, only feeling bewildered and so HIGH. I remembered where I worked, but I wasnít sure if I could ever work again. Would I go permanently insane, would my brain be fried forever, would my boyfriend have to care for me? Would he leave me? What would I tell my parents? My god, my parents.
I snapped back to reality near my house, suddenly realizing where we were. I looked out the window and I don‚Äôt know if it was because of the heat in the taxi, the color of the light coming down or what, but I thought we had become time travelers and jumped ahead in time. I thought I had missed work, that my parents were home, that I had not taken care of the house like I was supposed to. I had lost touch with reality, I didnít know what was going on. Suddenly, I felt the urge to vomit. As I did so, my boyfriend told the driver to pull over, and he turned around, angry that I had thrown up.
My memory, again, flashes in and out as we walked the 4 minutes to my home. I thought I heard sirens and the police helicopter as we walked home, and then I felt certain that we had done something wrong at the waterpark, and were in deep trouble. The grass hadnít been cut in a week or so, and seemed so long. The house seemed unkempt, and as we walked in, I turned around to see the door open, and thought that someone had broken in. My little hands were clenched at my side and I felt so tense.
The next thing I remember is my boyfriend bringing me upstairs, being on the phone, talking to someone, asking me as I sat on my parents bed where my mom kept her painkillers. The drawer was locked, but I didnít understand why he wanted the painkillers or who he was talking to, so I didnít seem to care. He likened my response to a zombies.
He told me he was talking to his mom, and put me on the phone with her. She sounded worried, and told me everything would be okay and started to cry. My boyfriend yanked the phone back from me, and suddenly we were downstairs in the living room we never use. I laid on a leather couch as some people in uniform came in. I still didnít know what was going on, even though my boyfriend told me several times he had called an ambulance. Two female paramedics and one male hovered near me. I looked at them listlessly and was not very cooperative. I wanted to tell them my brother was a paramedic. I wanted to say sorry they had to come.
But here came the acid again. One of the female paramedics was wearing glitter on her face. I thought she was a raver from back in the day, and was there to calm me using drugs and to take me to a special place. My brain continued looping about something, about what I wasnít sure. I think it mostly had to do with things never being normal again, and that I had done this to myself. They helped me into an ambulance, and from there I saw the kids across the street staring at me. How could it come to this?
As I laid on the stretcher, they put things in my nose and needles in my arm. They covered me in a beautiful warm blanket that lit up. The paramedics sniffed and rubbed their noses and I thought they were talking about drugs. For some reason I became convinced that they had been sent to get me away from my boyfriend, to avoid me bringing him into my loops of thought and the downward spiral I seemed to be on. I could see the sun setting from the back of the ambulance, and I thought I was dying. I couldnít conceive of anything after the sunset, and I couldnít see my boyfriend. I just wanted to be with him if I was going to die. I kept calling out his name, but couldnít see him.
Suddenly, I relaxed, and I think I passed out. It was probably from the Attivan they gave me. I felt released from my terrible negative thoughts, I knew I wasnít going to die, and that everything, other than the hospital bills, would be okay.
At the hospital, they gave me a bit of care, but nothing over the top. I thought, again, I was at some weird raver hospital, and they were going to take my organs or something. I kept seeing these strange visuals of thin sheaves of plastic with small glowing dots on them, sort of like graphing paper. I wasnít cooperative or nice, but neither were they really. We were lucky to get off so easy, and I was released shortly thereafter.
We went home, and I watched the stars on my ceiling move around a bit until I fell asleep for a good 12 hours. I donít know if I will ever do that amount of acid again, but I will probably do it again. Iíll just have a better hold of myself when things start to feel a bit funny, and will not be afraid to ask for help next time. I had asked my boyfriend to keep me safe, and he most definitely did.
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