I'm not all that good at writing so bear with me..
Although I was more fortunate than many people out there, I had some fucked up experiences a child. When I hit 16, I began self-medicating to ease the slow burn of trauma. Binge drinking, smoking weed, cigs, chronic masterbating, partying, and everything I could to escape myself. I was broken and my sense of self was rooted in my pain.. So I tried to be "good". I would do everything possible to feel like a "good person". This meant being nice, mannerable, polite, and even self-sacrificing. I was able to help a lot of people during this time, but I repressed the darker aspects of myself by trying only to see the "good" I was doing. It was a desperate, reactionary attempt to find solace and a reason for living because I was suicidal and hopeless. But one night changed my life for good.
The night was darker than usual, revealing the stars in a soft, radiant glow. I played my favorite song at the time and smoked a bole of some good I got from my weedman as I stargazed. I felt magical and uplifted by a sense of pride. I reflected on what a "good person" I was becoming. All my hard work to be "good" was paying off and I could take pride in that. Finally, something about myself I could take pride in! I felt like a loser for so long and had a confirmation bias that convinced me my life wasn't worth a damn thing. However, my "goodness" was changing me into a person of value. I was higher on these thoughts that on my trees. It was delightful.. Then, it hit me like a freight train from hell.
My thoughts went from the highs of pride into the depths of despair in an instance. I began seeing all the hurt I've caused people. The hurt I've caused my family, the hurt I've caused my friends, the hurt I've caused random people I forgot about. "But I'm a good person" I kept saying to myself over and over. The arguing culminated in a complete psychic break. I started hearing what sounded to be thousands of voices all of different tones, pitches, and textures all crying. They were desperately crying and I did not know for what or whom. I lost my mind. That was it for me. I had no more chances at life. I squandered all my opportunities dwelling in negativity and ego, judging everyone and hiding it all behind a facade. I wasted my life trying to ride my high horse to self-satisfaction.
I freaked out and ran out of my apt with nothing but sweats and sandals on at 2am. I ran to the police dept (i know, dumb move). The dept was closed, but I saw the last officer preparing to leave.
"I need help, please help me!"
Officer side eyes me as he walks to his car and leaves without saying a word. I call 911 (I know, even dumber) and explain that I was tripping bawls and needed help. Then I realized I called the police on myself like a dumb ass. The voices are still desperately crying and now I have a demon popping in my field of vision. I don't know if you recall the demon face on the first Exorcist movie that kept randomly popping up against the black backdrop. It was just like that. Creepy as FUCK..
So I turn off the phone and walk around the neighborhood. I'm twitching and tweaking with my shirt off looking like a true dopefiend. As I moved through the neighborhood, weird shit was happening like streetlights flashing, zaps from powerlines, helicopters flying, and cats running wild. I began having suicidal AND homocidal thoughts because I figured my weed man laced my shit. After suffering this tragic existence for who knows how much longer, I gave up. I call 911 and they came to get me. The EMTs were cool.
"You're just tripping bro, it'll pass. Weed is chill. Just relax."
I was saying weird shit like "Big brother is watching and you're all a part of the prison industrial complex".
The EMTs were not perturbed. My mind raced and anxiety was overwhelming. I thought I would end up in a psych facility and freaked out even more! I didn't want to end up in a padded room in a straitjacket! I had to help my family get out of the struggle. I had unrealized hopes and dreams. I had too much unlived life and figured I'd rather live and die a maniac that helps his family at least live a better life than to live a zombie like existence in a psych facility. Fuggg that! Thoughts of my family inspired me to get up and prepare to jump out of the ambulance. The EMTs freaked the fuck out. When they convinced me they were only taking me to the hospital, I calmed down. My trip mellowed out.. The voices stopped.. The paranoia ceased.. I just laid in the stretcher after submitting to the experience.. They rolled me into the hospital and gave me two sandwiches.
"You're going to need these, trust me. And believe me, you'll laugh about this later bro. If we see you again, we gotta go grab some tacos"
My Dad picked me up at 4am and said nothing about it. He just took me home and went to bed.
I wish I could say I was good after that, but I was mentally fucked up for about 4 months after that. Sometimes hearing whispers at work and feeling like I was falling into an abyss when trying to sleep. I just lived life like I did before it happened and all symptoms vanished.
It was this experience that gave me an education on Psychodynamics that I could not have received otherwise. I was repressing my shadow self and psychic pressure built until it cracked and popped the mind wide open. My eyes were forced to see the multifaceted nature of the psyche and the raw power it has. So I learned that if you don't acknowledge the parts of "yourself" (the amalgm of the sub-personalities) that you've been conditioned to think of as undesirable, they will break through your ego defenses and force you to acknowledge them. I now live a more integrated life and I'm immensely grateful for that painful and embarrassing experience.
Anyone Else Have any Fucked up Trip Stories?
Posted 30 August 2019 - 05:15 AM
I'm not all that good at writing so bear with me..
- prof_it_e and Skywatcher like this
Posted 30 August 2019 - 09:57 AM
RC, I moved this to Storming the Gates, as it's a natural fit. The writing was fine, by the way.
Learning that good person/bad person thing is all the product of conditioning and created illusion is a big thing. You have seen that what can look like the worst thing possible in its moment can be seen, in gratitude, as exactly the thing you truly needed. Good for you, mate.
- Skywatcher likes this