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I have to start this story off by making it very clear…I do not support the use of drugs, not as a kid, not as an adult. I think illegal drugs are illegal for a reason, and we should just accept it and move on. That being said, it is well known and all but accepted that every teen experiments with illegal substances at some point in their lives.
I was no exception, I’ll admit. I have tried most everything at least once, and some a few more times than that. And I’ll even go so far as to admit they were pretty damn good, too. All, with the exception of one: LSD. I am not too sure why there is such praise for the drug, but my one experience with acid left me with the worst feeling ever.
It all started pretty normal. The corner across the street from school property was filled with underage smoking students, but as long as it wasn’t on their property nobody cared. This is the corner where more than half of the drug dealing went down, and where I found myself almost every day of my high school life. Typically the deals were mostly pot, with acid on the rise through the later years. I was 17 when I took the plunge, after being prodded for roughly a year straight. I dragged one of my good friends into the deal with me, because I heard you can’t trip by yourself the first time, so he reluctantly agreed. We met on the corner at lunchtime, handing over $10 and receiving two teeny tiny squares of paper wrapped carefully in cellophane. I held onto the package until the final bell rang, and we hit the doors with nervousness as well as a rush of excitement. We hopped in his girlfriend’s car shortly after dropping the tabs of paper on our tongues, and went over to her house to hang out.
Not realizing the effects took some time, we started playing some video games. Roughly 45 minutes later, it began to set in, and we started with the giggles. My face hurt from laughing and smiling so much. His girlfriend had no clue what we had done, and we had no intentions of letting her in on the secret. We continued playing video games until it got a little too weird. My face went numb, and my teeth felt like they were going to explode out of my mouth. The colors of the game started to blend into odd pictures, and I had to stop. Short of freaking out, I walked out of the room, trying to get a hold of myself. While my little episode had the potential to be a downer, I still could not stop laughing. We switched from the games to the TV, and his girlfriend realized something was up.
After seeing colors in a black and white music video and being annoyed by an Elijah Wood movie, it began getting stuffy in the room and we had to bust out of there. We strolled down the street to get some Chinese take-out. We were hungry, but yet had no appetite. It was now about 3 hours after the effects kicked in, and we sat there staring intently at our egg drop soup. I bit into a crunchy noodle, and though my teeth broke off in the process. We then left from there to the local 7-11, and could not stop laughing at the picture of the ice cream sundae apparently eating the guy next to it.
By hour number six, I began to lose it. The effects were still kicking in strong, and I was ready for it to be over. I asked my friend how long this would take before we started coming down, and he advised me that they were triple dipped, thus enhancing the effects for quite a long time. My heart sank, and I couldn’t calm it down so easily. I was entertained for a little bit by putting on zebra striped band-aids we had purchased from the store. The black stripes seemed to blend in, connecting with my veins. At this point, it didn’t take much of a slip from reality to make me become frantic. To top it all off, I made the poor decision of looking at myself in the mirror. It was not a pretty sight. I finally called my mom, telling her I would be late. The conversation went ok; however, it sounded as though she was talking to me from behind the couch I was sitting on. I sat on my buddy’s girlfriend’s couch as if it were a small ship on rough waters, clutching onto the decorative pillow for dear life. At about hour eight, I felt about ready to fake being alright to my mom, and got a ride home.
I arrived home agitated, still high as a kite, but I could contain myself for the most part. My mom, after playing 20 questions, finally stopped bugging me and went to bed. I think she knew I was up to something, but probably just thought I was drinking or something like that. I went up to my bedroom, sat in my bed in the darkness, hoping the drug would wear off instantly. After another hour, I dealt with the fact it was not happening anytime soon, and closed my eyes. This is when I realized, it is not a great idea to sleep while tripping. The flash of nightmares had me back up in an instant, although the sun was out and I realized a few hours have passed. I also realized that for the most part, the drug was gone.
I grabbed some breakfast, and was able to eat without feeling like my jaw would break. Sitting there at the table, with some OJ and a big bowl of cereal, I let out a big sigh. As much as it was a different experience, made me laugh like crazy for hours on end, and allowed me to see that even shadows were three dimensional, I would not be drooping hits of acid anytime in the near future. Thankful to be alive, I confirmed in my head that life was never meant to be spent tripping on acid.
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