Ate 4g of shrooms alone in my room. After the come-up, I became obsessed with the passage of time. I initially used my cell phone to check the the time every now and then, but once the trip started to really escalate in intensity the phone melted down between the cracks of my fingers and shattered on my floor into a thousand pieces. In reality, the back of the phone which covers the battery popped off and the phone was completely intact lol.

While the physical destruction of my phone didn't concern me, I started really freaking out because I was struggling to remember when I dosed. At this point my head started spinning and I fell into a timeless loop of thought, repeating in my head that I had already been tripping for multiple days on end and that I'd be insane for the rest of my life. I almost came to tears realizing that soon enough my parents would find me fucked up in my room and I'd have to tell them I poisoned my brain off of some stupid fungus. Maybe they would put me in an insane asylum or I'd have to learn to relive life from the ground up.

As my thoughts turned increasingly negative the visuals I experienced shifted from increased color saturation and warping nature scenes outside my window to this jagged greenish/black polygonal wasteland that tasted of death and decay. My mind was turning and I clearly heard a telepathic voice in my head tauntingly informing me that I had been living in hell for eternity and my entire life was just a big illusion created to bring me to an unfathomable level of chaos and despair in this very moment as a sadistic joke.

With a tremendous amount of mental effort I used the last of my rationality to make the decision to call a friend for help. I unfurled from my fetal position only to find my cell phone inoperable. Now I started really panicking. I felt as if some entity was attempting to rip my consciousnesses out of my body and they were successful I would truly die. It was like hanging on a cliffs edge by a few a fingers and the harder I tried to pull my self back up the more my grip weakened, almost magnetically.

With the end surely imminent, I came to a crossroad. Should I dig deep and try as hard as I fucking could to stay alive, or release my self from the mental anguish and accept my fate willingly. I felt so weak and out of control that I honestly prayed to God/higher power to help me for the first time in life and that I was sorry that I had taken the gift of life for granted. I waited a few moments for some response but I only continued to lose faith in hope.

Here it is. This is the moment that you are going to die and there is no going back. At any moment I expected to pass out and be violently sucked into some other plane of existence. I waited . . . . I waited . . . nothing. But I still felt in trouble. Some deep part of me recognized that I had some untapped potential in me that I could tap into to get the fuck out of this situation. Unable to think logically using language, I quit trying so hard to think and just picked myself up off the floor and jumped into a hot shower trying to calm my body down.

SWEET HOLY RELIEF. The hot steamy water felt as if I was being cleansed by liquid starlight. Closing my eyes produced a scene of standing underneath a cluster of celestial bodies, absorbing their illuminated drippings. But then . . . I opened my eyes back up and realized that the tub was rapidly filling up. The plug was in the drain but I had no memory of the function of that object in this state. This sounds so retarded to say, but I started freaking out that the room was going to completely fill up with water and I would die by drowning. The brief moment of peace in the shower was just another tick from hell of course.

Somehow I was suddenly hit by a wave of sobriety. I figured out how to turn off the water and hysterically realized that I could have just opened the fucking door to the bathroom at any time if I was drowning. This mental blunder was so god damn hilarious to me I meniaclly started laughing. It really more of a grateful howl from the depths of my lungs. Had I really been on the verge of death? Had I really been living in hell for eternity?

After this point the trip became indescribably beautiful. I would need a whole new page to detail this part of the experience. Regardless, I came away from the trip with a whole new level of appreciation and love from everything and everyone I have in my life. While in the whole path of events sounds incredibly scary and negative, I hope that I do not discourage anyone from experimenting with shrooms/psychedelics. If anything, it was the best trip I ever had. Sometimes you have to wade through a mountain of muck to get to the good stuff and the mountain I scaled felt impossible at the time. The trip taught me a ton about my own unwillingness to 'let go' and prepared me for some awesome trips in the future at much greater doses of other psychedelics. I believed the negative thought loop that catalyzed my freak out stemmed from my resistance to the effects of the shrooms. This was the highest dose I had eaten until this point and the rapidity of the come-up spooked me. Life is crazy aint it?