Citation: A. "I Am a Ghost: An Experience with LSD (exp85641)". Erowid.org. Oct 31, 2017. erowid.org/exp/85641
I believe that it is the most simple and obvious feelings and experiences that are the most difficult to describe to others, and this is an attempt to do just that. I donīt think that I possess the poetic skill necessary to do the memory of my so called trip justice, but as Iīm unable to find any story quite like mine, I feel obligated (most of all toward myself) to give it a shot.
Let me begin with saying that I had around 5 to 10 experiences with LSD prior to this one, and that I never was far from praising the drug for the intense beauty, warmth and love that I had come to intimately associate with it. Only the one mild trip I had taken just before this one had any implications of the nightmarish potency of it that I had been completely ignorant of to that point, and that experience I had reason to blame on setting and company. This time, however, I was in the good company of my girlfriend and two other friends that I felt I could trust.
We had decided to go on a trip to my aunt's cabin in the forrest for a few days, and me and my friend R could not think of any better way of enjoying this beautiful lakeside setting than tripping in it. We also felt this would be a good opportunity for us to introduce our girlfriends to our drug of choice. So the day after we arrived, me and R each had four sugar cube hits of the same acid from the previous trip, and the girls shared the remaining four.
It all started out just great, and as I felt the initial muscular tensions told me that this trip might be slightly stronger than what I was used to, I enjoyed the company of my friends and prepared myself for the trip of a lifetime.
The first one or two hours brought on the vivid, colorful hallucinations that I had come to love, and me and my girlfriend were performing some strange contact dance on the porch of the house, in what we both felt might be the most intimate physical connection of our lives up to that point. We where climbing around on each other like monkeys, and it was great, if (naturally) maybe a bit to intense to fully comprehend. Then the complicated part of the trip started.
I canīt say for certain how it began to shift. As it was more than one year ago now I cannot recall the entire series of events with complete clarity, but it had something to do with language and how I communicated with the others. Since my friends were of other nationalities than myself, we spoke english amongst each other. I had also developed the habit of thinking to myself in english, something that now began to puzzle me. I couldnīt help but feeling that this was in some way a sign that my identity had gone astray, and I thought to myself that I better start doing my inner monologue in my native tongue to somehow bring me 'back to myself'. As I tried harder and harder to do so, my ability to think clearly in any language at all started to fade, and at the same rate I lost my ability to communicate with the others.
As I tried harder and harder to do so, my ability to think clearly in any language at all started to fade, and at the same rate I lost my ability to communicate with the others.
It was as if the more I though about myself, the further away my sense of identity would stride, and after some time of doing this I felt as if I was completely and irrevocably lost. There was simply no part of me that was truly 'me', and at this point I started to panic. I thought about different episodes of my life, stretching from the very early to the most recent, and it was as if I suddenly realized that I had always been some kind of social chameleon, adapting to - and feeding off of - the behavior and identities of others. There was simply something missing inside of me, and I thought myself to be forever lost and empty.
At this point I was overcome by a deep sense of guilt, and I started crying and apologizing to my friends for making them believe that I was a 'real' person that had actual emotions. I didnīt want them to waste any more of their love on me, a person that could be described as nothing else than a social black hole. For doing so I got nothing but concerned looks in return; the eyes of my friends seemed to be staring at me and through me at the same time as I to tell me 'we already know' or asking for this missing part of me. I realize now that my friends where deep inside their own trips as well and where unable to understand why I kept apologizing to them, but I could only get more paranoid.
All the visual effects of the drug where now gone, even though it was probably just three or four hours into the trip. I was overcome by a sense of absolute stillness and numbness. It was as if I had just come to the realization that I was nothing but a ghost, a creature unable to take part of the actual human world, and my panic grew even stronger. I took my girlfriend off to a separate room, as she was the only person I felt I was able to confide in. The two others appeared to me as if they had always known that I was not really human, and I even came to believe that they had only accepted my false friendship in order to go to my aunt's cabin. I sat on the floor with my face buried in her lap as I cried rivers and kept the apologies coming in an ever increasing flow, at the same time as I kept telling her that I loved her even though I was a no-being. And as I said above, this was her first experience with LSD. She was in complete loss of what to do with me, as she herself already was going through a difficult trip and couldnīt tell if I was being honest or just trying to mess with her. Realizing nothing of this, and instead feeling increasingly guilty about fooling such a beautiful creature into loving an empty shell, I started telling her that I wanted to change; that we together could build me up from scratch. At this point she did what was probably the only reasonable thing and left me alone. I was to paranoid about the other two that I was unable to leave the room and face their stares.
After sitting alone in that room for a while, considering if it might not be best to just kill myself and spare humanity my empty presence, I finally started coming down a bit. The panic slowly faded, but the sense of having lost myself or my identity sort of set in and became natural to me. It was now obvious that the acid had done nothing but reveal to me what had always been there - an empty hole where a self should have been. As I confronted my friends again their eyes were still telling me that they knew, and every word they spoke was a sort of confirming indication one way or another. It felt as if I was being toyed with by beings superior to me, as if they could see the parts of life that made it livable and I could not. It was the most lonely feeling I have ever had, and I felt it useless to try to talk about how I felt with anyone as it was already apparent to everyone around me, and talking about it would only make them even less interested in sharing my company.
It took me several months before I was able to talk to anyone but my girlfriend about what had happened, and this feeling still stalks me on and off. I realize now how little I knew of the potency of LSD and what it can do to you. I also realize that who you are is defined to you by what you do, and what you do is in turn defined by what you become, not the other way around.
I wish now that I would have been more careful playing with a powerful drug in the presence of the people that care the most for me, even though Iīve learned a lot from this nightmare. I have yet to have had a proper trip since this day, but somehow I feel as if I need to go 'back in there' to finally get rid of this awful paranoia.
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