Citation: Raoul. "Long Since Departed: An Experience with LSD (exp6464)". Erowid.org. Feb 26, 2002. erowid.org/exp/6464
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All the names in this story have been changed.
This is something that I have been meaning to write for some time. Back when I used to take LSD, I felt as if I was invincible to this 'bad trip' that people so often spoke of. What is this...bad trip? I knew it not. I was always in complete control of myself. I scoffed at those who encountered mental difficulties with drugs. I was young, naive, and very foolish.
I would dose ridiculous amounts of LSD, eat a few milligrammes of Xanax, and watch the show for hours on end. One particular night, I didn't get the Xanax, but I'm not sure it would have helped anyway. My friend Ralph had ten hits of the best LSD I have ever seen. He took two, and I took eight. My estimate is 800 microgrammes, based on the idea that each hit had at least 100 microgrammes. (but I really have no idea) You will see why shortly.
Within fifteen minutes, visuals had started and we were both laughing uncontrollably. After forty-five minutes, neither one of us could see straight in front of us. We could not read or even tell where we were. We were in his apartment at school, but the atmosphere was getting worse by the second. I had just eaten a burrito, and I went to the bathroom and vomited it up. When I looked in the toilet, it appeared to be full of blood. I looked at my arms, and it looked as if all my veins had burst and blood was all around me. I grabbed paper towels and cleaned myself up and headed back to the main room.
I told my friend that I wanted a cigarette, but he didn't think I should go get them out of my car because we were too screwed up at the time. I thought that he was against me. I figured that he must have been an agent of the DEA or something, so I started asking him his name over and over again. He got extremely frustrated with me and then he soon forgot his name. I thought that this was proof that he was operating undercover with a fake name. I began to ask him if he was a guy, and he replied, 'I hope you don't normally ask people these questions.' I believed that this answer was even more proof of his need to avoid questions to cover his true identity. I began to shout and swear and say very perverse things to him and threaten disgusting sexual acts. I disrobed then almost completely and threw my socks at him. I curled up on the floor and began to say my name over and over again.
'Letters make up my name. If my name is Raoul, then I am Raoul. That means that I am an R, an A, an O, a U, and an L. But I am clearly not those letters, so I must not be Raoul.'
'I am not Raoul?'
'Then I am anything I want to be.'
'I am Justin Otis. I am Jason Forsberg. I am David Winburn. I am Shane Roth. I am Ryan Gray. I am Loren Cleary.'
I picked up the phone and dialed a friend and yelled at him for a while, then put my clothes back on.
I decided that I had to have a cigarette, so I left the apartment, leaving my friend behind. I walked a short distance and saw a picnic table full of people eating hamburgers and ran up to it and jumped on top of the table and screamed, 'I am a lunatic! Do you see people act like this? Ever? Hell no! Because I'm crazy. I'm the freak that your parents warned you about. I am the statistic in your psychology book! Have you ever read 'Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas'? I am Las Vegas!'
Well, it wasn't long before somebody called the cops and an undercover cop showed up and she pretended to want to help me. She found my pager in a pile of clothes of mine and asked what numbers were on there. I didn't know, so I told her to call them. I was on a college campus, where they had speaker call boxes at the bottom of the apartments. She called a few numbers, but got no answer. Then, the unthinkable happened. She saw the phone number of Maria, a girl who worked with me whom I had dated a few times previously. The cop called her and Maria answered. I heard her voice on the speaker phone and immediately became very embarrassed. The cop said, 'Hello. Do you know anybody named Raoul who would have your number on his pager?'
She replied that she did and that I worked with her. I walked up to the phone and yelled, 'Maria!'
I softened my voice. 'Do you have a cigarette?'
'No,' she said quietly.
'Fuck!' I screamed and ran away from the phone.
The cop ended the phone conversation. She then led me to sit down and put on my shirt and shoes. I was starting to calm down very noticeably, and I started rambling on a bunch of nonsense about the way the universe works. I understood the cosmic nature of all actions and perceived that I had become one with Fate - a sense of eternal predestination. It was as if I understood that what was happening was preordained and that it was my destiny that night to die - even if I had to do it myself. The cop told me that I would not kill myself and that everything would be fine.
Then the boys in blue showed up. Six squad cars in all, and the drug task force. I thought that media cameras were there and I remember thinking that helicopters were flying around. I walked up to the police officers and threw myself at the ground and asked them to take me away. For it was tonight that I was to be executed for horrendous behaviour. They told me to get up and sit down. I did.
The first cop broke the ice.
'So, son, what's gong on?'
'I took eight hits of the dankest acid you have ever seen - and now I'm a lunatic. I'm going to die.'
'No, you're not,' another office said.
Then the fun started when one officer piped up and asked, 'Do you have any more on you?'
'What? You want to know if I have more? Here I am a total insane freak and you want to bust me with drugs? So you can get that big promotion? You profit-motivated swine! There is more here at stake than a bust! You want money? You can have mine! I have $187 here for you - take it!'
Silence from the police officers. Then, 'Well, who did you get it from?'
'What? Here we are again - back to busting people and making money off of my lunacy! You pigs make me sick!'
Then an officer said, 'Well, you might think differently when you sober up...'
Sober up? Sobriety? What's that? I had no concept of rationality or straight thinking. As far as I was concerned I was doomed for life in this semi-functional, yet fully-enlightened state.
Finally, one cop said to another, 'Call this guy a cab...'
They called a cab, gave me back my belongings and after spouting off nonsense for about thirty minutes, I got into the long awaited taxi and went home, and lay in bed all night thinking about what a fool I had been the previous night.
That night and my repulsive behaviour still haunts me to this day. I really don't do very many drugs anyway, but LSD is one that I will not ever touch ever again. Please be careful with LSD. I think it is highly unstable and can make you do or think things that you might have never before conceived of. I still shudder when I think of the things I said and did, and the damage that I did to friendships and relationships. Some have not healed yet - and that is a price I have to pay.
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