Exploring Psychedelic Mushrooms: A Surprising Experience
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Chapter 1: The Allure of Psychedelic Mushrooms
My boyfriend has always had a passion for self-improvement literature. He was particularly drawn to anything that promised to enhance his health and longevity. We were already consuming numerous supplements and practicing intermittent fasting when he stumbled upon the concept of psychedelic mushrooms.
These mushrooms were touted as potential solutions for a range of issues, from depression and alcoholism to OCD and existential fears at the end of life. The promise was enticing: just one dose could yield lasting effects without the risk of harmful side effects. They seemed almost miraculous.
He was instantly captivated by the idea of using them. In his youth, he had experimented with acid, which had helped him confront some of his issues. Influenced by his peers in the Bay Area's futurist community, who were exploring other psychedelics like ayahuasca and experiencing profound emotional breakthroughs, he was eager to dive in.
I, however, was more hesitant. My preference had always leaned toward alcohol rather than marijuana, and the thought of psychedelics made me anxious, fearing it would amplify my existing paranoia. Yet, my desire for personal growth in midlife and a wish to curtail my binge drinking led me to agree to give them a try.
My boyfriend procured some mushrooms, ground them up, measured them precisely with a spice scale, and encapsulated the powder. We decided that I would be the first to try them, with him remaining sober to support me in case I experienced a challenging trip. On a Saturday evening, we created a soothing atmosphere with LED tea lights and calming music, and I took the capsules.
Initially, I sat in the dark, listening to the music and eagerly anticipating the onset of effects, but nothing happened. I felt both disappointed and relieved. After an hour, I turned the lights back on and started tidying up our apartment.
After another hour, while in the bathroom, I began to feel a tingling, electric sensation in my mouth, akin to drinking something fizzy that made me giggle. Yet, despite my laughter, I felt a profound sense of ugliness. I informed my boyfriend that I was experiencing something and returned to the living room. I settled on the couch, journaling while he sat across from me. Thoughts flowed, leading to laughter and tears, but I remained engulfed in sadness and an overwhelming sense of unattractiveness. It was reminiscent of being drunk, but devoid of the comforting warmth I usually felt. My writing turned into big, round, girlish cursive, a style I never used.
The experience dragged on far longer than I had hoped. When it finally subsided, I was left with a sense of disappointment. The mushrooms had not expanded my consciousness; rather, they had deepened my gloom.
A few weeks later, it was my boyfriend’s turn. Our reading material indicated that bad trips often occurred with medium doses, while low and high doses tended to result in positive experiences. Perhaps that was my downfall, he speculated, so he decided to go for a larger amount. He mixed some mushroom powder into cold tea and consumed the unappealing concoction.
He entered his trip much more quickly, within half an hour, but felt intensely nauseous. He found himself on the living room rug, leaning over a pot, dry heaving. Afterward, he lay on the couch, alternating between feeling cold and hot, pulling the blanket on and off, and occasionally exclaiming, “Where am I?” and “My poor mother!”
I tried to console him, assuring him he was safe, while jotting down his words and actions. His trip lasted about four hours. When it concluded, he described it as horrific, claiming he believed he was part of a malevolent experiment. He expressed a desire for comfort without conversation, as my voice felt too stimulating for him.
After this experience, my boyfriend began to exhibit unusual behavior. Over the following weeks, he started perceiving strangers in the supermarket as his doppelgangers and became convinced that he was being spied on by Russians. Given that his mother had schizophrenia, I worried the mushrooms might have triggered something latent within him.
He had been a caring partner for two decades, but his demeanor shifted dramatically. He became increasingly irritable, drove aggressively, and eventually had a car accident. Ultimately, he had an affair and left, leaving me to ponder whether the mushrooms played a role in this transformation.
In conclusion, I would advise against trying mushrooms. They neither broadened our perspectives nor resolved our issues; instead, they led to unhappiness and may have contributed to the unraveling of our relationship.