This happened in 2011. It’s really fun to watch. The second group walks in with perfect timing.
I feel like I aged the last ten years of my life in about the last month. Not in a terribly bad way. It’s like exhilarating in a scary kinda way. The past year has been kinda big for me, and especially the last 6 months, and even more the last 3. Like as far as examining negative patterns in my behavior and why they’re there and what simple easy-to-win steps I can take today to shift things in a more positive way for me and the people I care about that have to deal with me, being a more positive person and trying to be loving at all times above anything else(and trying to remember that that also means loving myself). It’s all good. Like, it’s terrifying to try to do the exact opposite of what my visceral instincts tell me to do. But I can see that this is the only way for me to be a “normal” balanced person again, and that feels cool.
I feel like a big catalyst for change for me was adopting a cat on a whim. I didn’t know how powerful just being responsible for another innocent life would be for me, I just thought there was a rat in my house and wanted someone to protect me. I feel like within weeks I started to love and accept myself a little bit more just because my new little damaged angel was loving and trusting and accepting of me when she didn’t have any reason to be at all. It wasn’t that far of a step for me to just become more loving and accepting to everyone else after that. I’m fucking crying just thinking about this, I love my cat a lot. But that’s not what I want to talk about.
The past year I also started using drugs. More drugs. Not the ones people take as givens in this country and don’t even think of as drugs like caffeine or alcohol or sex. Some illegal and sorta illegal ones. This was kind of a big deal for me too because up until about age 23,24 I was so against anything that altered your conscience I believed with rock-headed certainty that I’d never even have a sip of wine ever again. Most of that resolve was based on unhealthy control issues, but I was so sure of it being my story for most of my teen years and my early twenties.
I went from occasionally using marijuana to smoking every night and eventually sometimes smoking all day long. I don’t smoke that much now, and for a time I was overdoing it a little bit. But I still use marijuana “a lot.” Wanna know what happened to me? I slept better. Muscle stiffness and aches and pains went away to a surprising degree. Symptoms of anxiety and ptsd and all that bullshit got immediately better. It was a lot easier for me to calm myself down when I was sober because I could recall how easy it was to be calm and not overreact when I was high. I did my job BETTER because I was more rested, calm and caring. I became more creative in the way I attacked complex questions related to everything. I eventually became an even MORE introspective person, which I didn’t think was possible. I started to tear down some pretty terrifying veils about myself that I didn’t like and to look at what was behind them. And I started to make rough drafts of how I could tackle these big daunting problems in the future.
I took “heroic” doses of psychedelic mushrooms. My first big big big trip I forgot what almost evvvvvvveryyyything was. I didn’t know my name. I knew I had a family who I loved very much and who I could feel loved me desperately, but I couldn’t see their faces or remember their names. I actually forgot what other people even looked like for a few hours. I could hear the grass grow and shit. I could hear cows mooing hundreds of yards in the distance and on the other side of the hills surrounding me as loud as if they were right beside me. I kept on squeezing and rubbing these two stones I’d picked up before I started tripping to reming myself, “these rocks are real you picked them up hours ago and they were real so if these rocks are real, so are you, you’re still okay if you have these rocks.” Pretty funny. When I finally started to come back and remember I could actually walk and we went back to the car and my homie turned on the radio for me I literally got chills and went, “holy shit..I fucking forgot what music was….wowwwwww.” A lllllllllot of that was pretty scary for me, I felt like I was losing my mind. Like I was trapped in a fishbowl of mild insanity. Wanna know what I was left with at the end of that trip? I felt more connected to everyone. More thankful for EVERYTHING. I could see, very clearly, some big things I’d been putting off because in my mind they were going to be so awkward and scary to confront I’d resigned to go the rest of my life without addressing them. And I could see how they were really nothing at all, just pieces of my past that I’d been dragging around like chains I could shed ANY fucking time I wanted in the last 15 or 20 years. I kept telling my homie, “I know what I have to do, I just have to be a good person!!” as I ran around in the big bright sun with a big goofy thankful smile painted across my sunburnt face.
I ended up doing big trips like that a few more times within a very short window of time. I don’t think you should do what I did exactly. I had very easy access to the tool and didn’t really have anyone who really knew what was up to tell me, “hey, maybe you should just wait to sort through and absorb and appreciate that big huge journey you just went on. I know you feel like you get it right now, but there’s so much more information for you to process that you can’t even appreciate right now. Just wait.” So I just kinda went, “yea fuck it, lets do that again I had a great experience, why not?!” The thing was, for me at least, I was not prepared to deal with all that comes along when you go to outer space and then come back to earth and have to like go put gas in your car and talk to your mom and dad and go to school and shit. Maybe a month ago, for about a week, I was legitimately feeling like I was going nuts, forgetting who I was and what was important to me deep down. It was terrrrrifying and I wouldn’t wish it on anybody. That went away, it’s fine now. And it was only when I was by myself. I was fine around other people, they probably didn’t even know what was going on inside me. Looking back, I can see that I probably just abused the privilege because I had such easy access to the drug. And I didn’t properly respect it, even though I thought I did. The experience of feeling not quite there mentally made me a LOT more understanding and compassionate and loving of people who spend entire days or lifetimes with their minds just a little bit off. And now when I’m confronted with a rude or strange or shy or even just kinda shitty person, I’m so much more willing to stop myself and think, “why are they being this way. It might not even be their fault, maybe something happened to them and they went a little nuts to deal with it and they haven’t found their way out yet. They’re not physically hurting you, just try to be nice.”
These drugs did not do ANYTHING for me. I think up to this point, that’s what I’ve made it sound like. That’s bullshit. I did it all myself. They just allowed me to look at scary uncomfortable things and accept things that I’ve always known deep down. SIMPLE things, you guys. Like, “hey stupid, if you don’t like this about yourself, STOP FUCKING DOING IT.” Or, “hey, dummy, if it makes you sad when you treat people this way, TELL THEM YOU’RE SORRY AND YOU’RE GOING TO TRY TO BE BETTER. And then DO SOMETHING ABOUT IT.” It’s all pretty basic simple human stuff. Like, read any sacred religious text or just talk to some cool happy-looking motherfucker and you’ll probably hear a lot of the same stuff. And I 100% believe that I probably would’ve eventually arrived at the same conclusions and taken the same actions I’ve taken in the last month or so had I not taken all these drugs. But knowing how stuck I was and how much I believed the sad narrative I’d made up for myself, I wouldn’t have been surprised if it took me another ten years to get there. And I don’t want to spend one more minute stuck the way I was for the longest time. Fuck that. I’m glad I did what I did, even if it was a little bit sloppy, ignorant and reckless. I’m happier and I’ve started to rebuild my relationship with my family. And, duh, because of all that shit now I’m a better citizen of the world and I can be a better person for all of you.
I don’t fucking know if you should do drugs. But you don’t hear positive drug experiences like mine on the news, and that’s bullshit. And because of the culture in my country, most people like me who have had positive drug experiences will not discuss them openly for fear of being judged or losing their job or something. Also bullshit. A lot of these drugs are thousands of years old, organic, exist across continents, and depending on preparation are 100% safe and non toxic for the human body to process. AND NON-ADDICTIVE. Prozac, Oxy, Codeine, Viagra, fucking Ambien? I don’t know, not so much. Not that those aren’t valid and viable options depending on the situation. There’s just a lllllot out there that so many people are just mislead about. That’s all.
I’m not nearly where I want to be with myself or with all of you. And I know I’m only tapping 1% of my potential right now but even that feels soooo much better. I don’t know if or when I’ll use psychedelic drugs again. But drugs are not bad.✌