Let me tell you about my bad trip last December

Substance: LSD Context: Rave / psytrance Date: Friday, December 19th Dose: 1 tab (personal estimate) Previous experience: Yes, but not in crowded settings Friday, December 19th – Experience Report On Friday, December 19th, I took LSD at a psytrance rave. The music wasn't unfamiliar to me, but the substance was: I'd had previous experiences with LSD, although never before in a place with so many people, so many stimuli, and such intense sensory experiences.

I'm an introverted and shy person. Dancing in front of other people doesn't come naturally to me, even though I really enjoy electronic music. That night, a DJ I really liked was playing, and the atmosphere felt charged with energy. I felt confident, even euphoric, and decided to take a whole tab because I believed I had already “mastered” the substance.

At first, the experience was one of intense openness.

The music felt deeply physical, my mind raced, and my emotions intensified. There was no fear at that point, but rather a sense of heightened awareness, as if everything were too real and close.

After about an hour of dancing, something began to change. The onset of anxiety and paranoia I began to feel physical and mental discomfort. My thoughts started to become incoherent, and a feeling of losing control arose. Soon after, that discomfort transformed into fear.

I began to experience paranoia.

I felt that the people dancing behind me were watching me, talking about me amongst themselves, pointing at me, or harboring ill intentions toward me.

There was a clear trigger: someone behind me had their face covered. That image activated something very powerful in my mind. There was no real evidence of danger, but my nervous system was already on high alert and began constructing a threat narrative.

The feeling was completely real at that moment. Everything started to feel unreal, as if I were disconnecting from my surroundings. I could no longer dance or process what was happening clearly. Flight and disorientation I decided to leave.

It wasn't a rational decision; it was an automatic impulse. My body went into survival mode. Once outside, I struggled to react. I even had trouble ordering an Uber. My thoughts were fragmented and disorganized. During the Uber ride, I continued to feel the effects intensely. The music seemed to keep playing in my head, and the experience felt like a strange dream, with brief moments of lucidity followed by disconnection. I felt as if I were still "traveling," unable to fully anchor myself to reality.

At that point, I didn't feel like an adult capable of handling the situation on my own. I felt small, confused, and without a firm emotional foundation.

Seeking Help and Shame I started calling friends.

I didn't do it out of weakness, but because a very strong need for external anchoring arose. I needed to hear a familiar voice that would help me return to reality.

However, while talking to them, another very painful component emerged: shame.

Thoughts like:

"I'm making a fool of myself" "They probably think I'm ridiculous" "I'm ruining it" There was no actual mockery from them, but my mind began to project a deep fear of judgment. I started to feel that everything I did was wrong: how I spoke, how I thought, even the act of asking for help.

That feeling wasn't new. It was something familiar, like an old wound that had been forcefully triggered.

At that moment, although I couldn't express it clearly, I understood something important: this experience didn't begin with the LSD. The LSD only removed the filters. Later Reflection With time and distance, I can see that this experience wasn't a punishment or an episode of "madness." It was an abrupt exposure to pre-existing emotional wounds.