My craziest drug experience

[***]

That other thread sucked, and I'll be damned if I'm going to share this just for the benefit of onetrollerson. This is long, so the cliff's notes are that I took acid and things were really weird.

I love acid. Acid is hard to find. So when I got the chance to buy 200 hits with an Alex Grey print I jumped at the chance. I'd been burned earlier in the summer with a bottle of liquid "acid". I suppose if you took 5 drops of it you got [censored] up, but it gave me cramps and I think it was probably 5-Meo-Dipt or some other garbage.

Before we started dating my girlfriend at the time had never done acid, and she was curious but cautious. She took it for the first time in Vegas (because international dope smuggling is, well, dope), and she loved it. This didn't reduce her caution though, since she's a small girl and still didn't have the experience I have. She trusted me to measure her doses for her. When I got this new batch of paper I took one to measure its potency and found it underwhelming, not knowing that LSD is cross tolerant with the 2-ci I'd done recently. That was a waste of time in my opinion, since I didn't actually get high or feel much, just a slight drunkeness. But it was obivously not just baking powder, since it negated a hit of acid.

Now the guy that sold us the stuff assured me that it was very strong, and that his friends had taken two each and suffered extreme delusions: thinking they could drive because they hadn't taken acid, paranoid delusions, and acting out in public. To me this sounds normal, and the storyteller is a known exagerrater, so I gave his warnings no heed. None whatsoever: I took 4 and gave my girlfriend 3.

Not only that, but we didn't chill at home or anything. Instead we went to a waterpark. A noisy, slightly dirty, surprisingly chilly waterpark. Things were fine for the come up period, and I was pleased that four was having the appropriate effect compared to one. The constant echoes were disconcerting, but if you can't handle disconcerting LSD use is probably not for you. We splashed around in the wave pool, and carried the rocking motion with us everywhere we went for the rest of the day. Even up the tall towers to ride the slides, which gave my special lady vertigo.

She decided that she'd rather not go on the slides anymore, but encouraged me to ride one that had just opened: a thrilling drop upside down into a deep pool recommended only for strong swimmers. I asked her to come with me (to keep me company), but she wasn't having any of that, I think because she thought I intended to trick her into going down it. I wasn't, but we weren't even on the same wavelength.

While I was waiting she was having some SERIOUSLY DISTURBING THOUGHTS, though I wasn't to find this out until later. The line for the slide was long since it had just opened, and when I finally got out of the splash pool she was overjoyed to see me, like Mary seeing Lazarus emerge from the tomb. She told me she wasn't feeling well so I suggested we go lie in a beach chair for a bit. We did, but that didn't ease her, and I was beginning to catch on that all was not well. So when she suggested we go home I acquiesced.

Getting a cab turned into an ordeal. The first one we approached claimed to be waiting for a fare, but just drove off as soon as we walked away. Then she tried to get into a stranger's car and I had to tell her that wasn't the cab. The cab phone was broken when I tried to use it, but eventually I got someone to call one for us.

The constant in and out seemed to confuse my poor darling, and she regressed into some sort of robotic state, not responding to questions but occasionally repeating herself like a broken record. Even sober this would be off putting, but on acid it made me think that something was very wrong. I hoped that going home and lying down would help her relax, but we weren't to get that far.

When we were about 8 blocks from her house she started gagging, and I pulled a beach towel out of our bag but not fast enough. I asked the driver to pull over, but before he could she threw up all over the floor of the cab, which infuriated our cabbie. He pulled over, started shouting at us, and kicked us out. I ended up giving him $30 on a $15 fare just to get him to shut up and [censored] off, but if I ever see him again I will probably take a ride and stiff him out of spite.

As we walked home she seemed a little more responsive, but couldn't always answer important questions like what her name was or what day it was. The date thing distressed her a little so I dropped it - I just wanted to see what stage things were at. Suggestions that we perhaps visit the hospital were met with, "Ok." When we got to the house she couldn't punch the code to open the door, but thankfully it was only a lack of coordination because when she told me what it was I got the door open.

I was starting to feel a lot of anxiety, and the dehydration I had from the pool wasn't helping. Drinking a glass of water didn't work out though, because putting fluid into the patients mouth just ended with it coming out again. I decided at this point that she was probably having a BAD TRIP, so I looked in my bag for some benzos that I had just for such a situation. They weren't there! I'd forgotten them at my house, so I called my sister. No answer! I didn't want to panic her so I left a very plain sounding message that implored her to call at her earliest convenience. This wasn't soon enough though, because my girlfriend was becoming more actively distressed.

I asked her if her mom had any tranquilizers and she said yes, so I spent some time trying to get into the locked drawer they were in (a crackhead cousin had been visiting recently). I couldn't, and the key was nowhere to be found, so at this point I decided that desperate times called for desperate measures and I phoned my mom for advice.

I explained the situation and she was surprisingly calm, and said that she was at work but would be there as soon as she could. I put her on the phone with my girlfriend who immediately started to cry, so I snatched it away and berated her. Obviously it was nothing she had said, but I wasn't thinking entirely clearly at the time. Still, this caused another deterioration of state in my lady friend (who was alternating between distantly cogent and totally spaced out), and within 20 minutes she was vomiting wildly again. This was really disturbing me, so I called my mom back and she said she wouldn't be there for at least 45 minutes and that we should probably call an ambulance.

We all know hindsight is 20/20, but moms are never wrong in situations like this. Even when they are wrong, you know? The firefighters showed up first, and they were for the most part complete [censored] jerks. They didn't seem very interested in helping, only in making me feel bad about what I'd done (not knowing that I was high on acid and impressionable). They turned the situation from distressing into a complete medical emergency. If you ever find yourself in a similar position I highly recommend against involving medical personnel.

Of course I know some first aid and I know that in cases of poisoning you are supposed to give the paramedics or doctors whatever the person has taken. So I gave up my stash, foolishly. I was only thinking of doing the right thing and wanting her to be ok. At this point (when they saw how much I had) they clued in that I might also be high and asked me. I explained to them that I had taken more than her, and they mostly just thought I was a bigger jerk for it. Finally the paramedics showed up, put her on a stretcher, and wheeled her outside. Again, they would randomly ask me one by one if I was on acid too. Higher than I've ever been in my life, now stop making your eyes bulge out like that. One of the firefighters did give me a chuckle though when she said they had been diverted from a river rescue, which was fine by her because it was a little cold to be swimming.

I got to ride in the front seat of the ambulance, and I made strange small talk with the driver. She tried to suggest that I go to drug counselling, and that left me really speechless. Even at the time I knew that I wanted less exposure to people that exarcerbate problems like this, not more. I heard in the back that they were administering Ativan, and knowing that it was a benzodiazepene I asked the driver what that meant. She said, "It's like aspirin only a little stronger." I pondered the ethics of her total lie for a bit, then replied, "I have a headache too. Can I have some?" This was a foolish play, because that meant that they forced me to check in at the hospital too (though I eventually received no treatment).

We got relatively VIP service, but I wasn't allowed to be in the room with her at the beginning. Instead I had to chat with a nurse about why I was there, and then wait in the waiting area of a downtown emergency ward. I can think of very few places I would less want to be on acid - seeing the worst sort of sick and sad people all waiting for treatment was greatly depressing. Eventually my mom showed up and I got to chat with her, which was nice. Soon after a nurse came by and told me I could wait in the room with my girlfriend. He also told me that the firefighters had given something of mine to security and that since they were not in a legal position to confiscate anything that I could just go ask for it back. So I did, and these two 19 year old security guards handed me my sheet of acid, meanwhile being a little surprised at what it looked like.

My victory was short lived, as some head security guard came in and demanded its return shortly after. I'm sure I would have been within my rights to refuse him, but I wasn't interested in generating ill will, and I was fully aware of the gravity of my situation. This subservience was wise, because it wasn't long before the police arrived. Any emergency call invites them, and they'd stopped by the house and when we weren't there decided to pay us a visit at the hospital. They did a perfect good cop/bad cop routine, telling me that they knew I had something that I shouldn't. I told them that simply wasn't the case, which made them a little angry, but they were skilled enough investigators to ask me what had happened to it.

While the bad cop left to retrieve the contraband the good cop gave me advice, "My partner is going to come back, and he's going to give you a lecture, and you're going to act very sorry. You're going to explain that it will never happen again, and this will probably all blow over." That's exactly what happened. Well, almost. I had to give them a lesson in street drugs too. The good cop was a little amazed, "So this is what it looks like. I've never seen acid before! How much do you eat? Like half of this?" He was holding 92 hits, so I suggested that one little square would probably suffice. I encouraged him to investigate the details, and that when he was laughing at this over lunch with his buddies down at the station house that he describe to them in detail the picture of the dog [censored] the man while a woman pointed a gun, as well as the giant vagina with beetle legs.

The police were pretty much the only pleasant figures of authority I dealt with that whole day. They threatened me, but seemed to understand that I wasn't a stupid drug addict, just a perhaps too smart university kid who had made a big mistake. The same could not be said of the doctor, who insisted on a blood test to see if the "pills she took were laced with meth", and prophecized that "one day you're going to be driving your car, you're going to have a flashback, and you're going to kill somebody." Thanks [censored].

Questions are welcome. Flames are inevitable.