TripperWitch

October the 27th, 2020, Saturday night. We took 3 rainbow gel tabs. These are our favorite LSD we've gotten so far, lots of nice visuals, things go crisp and twinkley, everything tends to sparkle, it's just gorgeous. We figured it might be the last weekend we get a good chance to trip before my Dad and Sister come up here, even though we tripped last weekend too. So we wait until later in the night this time, it's 9:27 PM when we drop. I always try and look at the clock, because of how time feels when tripping. I like a starting and an ending point. When we look at the clock again(there is always this aversion to looking at what time it is), we'll know the trip is over, it's kind of how we just always end up doing it, not even on purpose really. I wasn't even sure I wanted to try and write this report up, it was such an intense time. It was...exhilarating? Terrifying? Horrifying? Thrilling? Educational? Blissful? All of this...The night started normal, as normal as trips go for us at least. Things get warbly, we put some music on, we hang out and talk a lot on the come up, smoke some weed(I smoke all during a trip, generally. As soon as I start to feel sick, I'll take a hit, and be good). I don't even remember exactly what was going on, or what we were doing, or what I was thinking, but early in the night, I say to my husband, “Whenever someone tells me a story, like from their past, I can feel it as if it's my own memory, like in my head.” The more and more psychedelics we take, the more I am convinced I am either psychic, or fucking bat shit crazy(both? Neither?). Too many weird coincidences from early in my life, years and years before I even smoked weed even, weird things I've been able to just know about someone. Not like Telepathy or something, but closer to Empathy, I guess, I dunno. Once I say it our loud, it kind of hits me, and so much makes sense to me from my life now. I'm 34 this month, and been tripping for a little over a year, and yet all these things made crazy connections during this night. Connections of things from my past, with my family, growing up, all of it up until I'm here. I had no idea I was around so much trippy shit as a kid. I'm feeling pretty nauseous now, not uncommon on LSD for me, it's pretty normal that I feel gross on the come up. So we finally go outside, it's misty, but we can still see stars. Going outside always seems to minimize my nausea, so I'm stoked to finally feel comfortable for a minute. I love finding a certain angle that just FEELS good, and stay there, stare at that space, and let my eyes just do whatever they want, let my mind disappear into what I hear in my head. But the hubby is there, he's talking, he's moving around, it doesn't quite feel right, like he's distracting. Every time I start to pull away to sort of relax into I guess what you could call a sort of meditation. I can feel the peak coming, I know what I need and what I want to do, but I can't do it with him there, and I can't explain that to him, he doesn't get it, he gets upset if we're tripping and I ask to be alone. So I just hang on, refuse to let myself get past that point of LOSING MYSELF, which is this ultimate freedom, this release for me, it feels just so amazing to feel...free? Free. I love it, that feeling of just bliss is why I love LSD so much. But we're talking instead, and my mind is still racing in too many directions, thought loops that are becoming increasingly dangerous, and I can feel that danger, and I'm holding myself separate from my thoughts, or at least trying to, but also trying to engage my hubby, and I end up thinking about my Dad, and/or I say something about him. And not even a moment later, I forgot what I said, like I desperately chased what it was, because I knew it was important, and it's something I wanted to say TO my Dad. I asked the hubby, and he didn't know, he was having a hard time pulling it back out of his memory too. So I start trying to backtrack into my thoughts, find where I de-railed and my mouth and my mind disconnected. I found where I lost the thought, but it brought me somewhere else, back to a memory that wasn't mine. My thoughts reminded me and our conversation reminded me, and I said out loud something about this horrifyingly BAD trip my Dad and my Mom had when they were younger, before I was born. It was BAD, my Dad told me briefly about it one time, he saw my Mom's Darkness that night, and he should have left her right then and there. He said all this to me months ago, we were talking. But what I said earlier comes back, that when someone tell's me a story, I feel it as if its my memory, so when my Dad told me that story, I felt his memory, felt my Mom's too, she just recently left from visiting my home a couple weeks ago. Standing in the dark with my hubby, my mind spiraling rapidly into fragments, I felt myself get lost. Like, LOST, not just free. For a moment, I was there in my parent's memories, in the hotel room with my parents, but it's not like I was standing in the room, it was a flash in my senses, a rage of violent, colorful chaos, filled with endless screams and agony and joy. I lost myself into that horror of my parent's bad trip from before I was even born(so I guess I kind of was there, an egg and a sperm inside my parents), my vision was it, all my senses filled with it, and I felt myself disappear into that horrific trip from before I was even born. We were tripping, my parents had tripped, my dad had told me the story, so I felt like I was there, in both of their minds during that trip, my mom acting a fucking Demon, and my dad trying to deal with her and maintain, all on too much acid, and it exploded into a hurricane of emotion, swallowing my reality. Right as I realized I was lost in this abyss of insanity that wasn't my own, some thread screamed at me what was happening, that I was getting sucked away. I ripped back from that oblivion, and all of a sudden I was back in my own mind, but there were like tendrils connecting me still. My hubby looked hard at me all of a sudden, “What the fuck was that? I heard that!” I couldn't answer him right away. I had to step away, I was shaking, clinging to this reality like a life boat, feeling and knowing that the slightest thought back towards what had just happened, and I would get sucked in again. I could feel it pulling at me, wanting me like a starved thing. I told him I would tell him, but I needed a minute to settle, I was teetering on the edge of breaking down into sobs, but if I did that, it would swallow me again, I knew it. I had to re-solidify myself, I couldn't speak, and I kept trying to fall back in. Like it was trying to rip me back into it, my mind kept trying to drop back into the loops, and I fought, I fought fucking harder than I've fought in my life to try and think of something else. People don't always realize you can control your own thoughts, but it is so, so difficult, especially when there is a tiny thread that wants to go back there. I asked the hubby what he thought happened, he said, “I heard that, what the fuck was it?” And I knew the sound he had heard, because I had heard it too, the moment I broke and reality shattered and I ripped back out of it, all in an instant. Like a lightning bolt, a deafening CRACK of thunder, that was the sound it made in our(I guess, cuz he heard it too) heads when I broke free of my parent's bad trip from years ago. Sitting writing this, I feel like it's not as fluid as other reports, it's choppy, my mind is still fried, my body and hands are trembling just typing this. The memory still feels too raw. Everything feels raw. I didn't want to write this yet, because all I have to do to start feeling it again is start thinking about it, and I'm trying not to, but I wanted to get it down before it faded any more anyways. I tried explaining what had happened to the hubby, and he understood, sort of. He understood it had been a dangerous moment, one that would have been so easy to disappear into, and I can 100% see how acid could make someone go fucking nuts enough to end up in the crazy house. Before going into the house, I bluntly asked him, “Babe, am I psychic, or am I crazy?” He answered, “We'll just cross our fingers that it's psychic.” Fucking so helpful. We finally made it back into the house, though I was almost afraid to. The trip had waned, but it was still there, still wanting to suck me back into its edges. It's like 2 AM. We lay in bed, and I was afraid to even try to sleep, so I just lay there, staring at the ceiling. I did finally close my eyes, and I kind of slept. The more psychedelics we do, the more I feel like some sort of mental abilities could potentially be a thing. I've never been disbelieving of such things, but I find myself leaning more an more into full belief. I better fucking believe in them I guess. Otherwise, I really am just fucking crazy.

7-11-2020 The husband and I took acid Saturday night, the 11th. We dropped about 8:50 pm. I had been spotting all day, like going to start my period soon, but it was light enough that I figured it would wait until the next day, I could trip in peace without worrying about pads or tampons or anything. We got new acid, like a new batch, we had not tried this one yet. At first we talked about taking a shit ton, like a 10 strip, and just being GONE, but after much discussion we decided to err on the side of caution. We took 2 and a ½ hits of this new red/orange stuff with tiny gold flakes in it, gel tab. Then we started watching tv, waiting for it to start hitting, and see where it took us. It was like an hour later, and I wasn't feeling anything really. I just felt kind of stoned; that's not a surprise though, I smoke all day, every day, and constantly while tripping usually, like when I start to feel shitty, like nauseous(I get bad nausea while tripping, but have never actually thrown up), I smoke. I have always smoked weed while on lucy, and probably always will. I can't imagine it without it, and yet now that I write this, I feel like I need to try lsd without herb some time, see what's different. Anyways, I've gotten sidetracked. I'm not feeling anything, I don't see anything, no breathing walls, no fuzzy edges, no anything. So I say screw it, and go take a shower. I was wanting to wait until I was feeling it to take a shower, because I love being in the water on the come up. I go to the shower, and get in, take a normal shower with a little bit of zoning out, per usual. The hubby comes in, and then went back out. I turn the shower off and get out too, still not feeling anything. He had put some music on. We usually always listen to some sort of EDM while tripping, we each have a pandora station that we've created, though we usually use his(not that this matters). He had also turned all the lights off, which we often do while tripping too. Soft light. Some glow sticks(sometimes we do a whole glow party thing and throw glowsticks around, make toys and dance around with them, like dorks). We also have a blacklight in our bedroom for added ambience. So I went into our room to put clothes on, and it was like a switch was hit when I came out of the lit bathroom(day vibe), into the dark house and the purple light(night vibe). I was tripping, but so used to how the house looks when we light it up like this, I wasn't paying attention to my slightly warbly vision. We stood around, both of us feeling kind of...off. Like we weren't out of it like we usually are by this point(it has been almost 2 hrs since we took the tabs). We talk about going outside. I didn't really want to. He did want to. He wanted to go start a fire in our campfire pit, and was trying to get me outside to do that. I still didn't want to, but he finally gets me to go outside, but we never make it to the firepit. We're in the dark, and I love being outside at night while tripping, especially when there's stars, and there was. We start talking. I always try and talk to him while tripping, but he never really responds. So we're standing outside in our driveway, I'm staring up at the stars as they start kaleidoscoping. Usually that sucks me in, I get lost in them, and I love that. But I didn't feel sucked in this time. I felt...present. So I'm still talking, about what I'm seeing, how trips feel to me, etc, I look at my hubby, I see the edges of him start to kaleidoscope, just like the stars, and I love those sort of triangular spirals at the edges of everything, especially in the dark. I start laying into him though. Like...kind of rudely force him to listen to me speak. He never lets me talk, not really. Anytime I start to talk about something real, like my feelings, or our relationship, or our families, he tends to start to talk over me, and I just swallow it down again. Or I start to say something, get choked up, and can’t anymore. But not this time. Everytime he started to say something to interrupt, I cracked down on him. Like I would say out loud, “No, wait! Let me! I'm talking now!” and there would be this FORCE behind it, like power, and he would quiet down again, and be all respectful and obedient. And usually even when he's quiet, he's still not listening, but this time, I could feel him listen. I was making him listen. I was in his head, forcing him to hear my words, and UNDERSTAND them. Understand how I felt. I said things I have wanted to say to this man for 12 years, since we've been together. I realized this, and I was elated. I couldn’t stop, I lost control, and for the first time in my 33 years of life, my mouth moved as fast as my thoughts, and I was able to articulate perfectly how I felt. I stood up for myself, and for my kids, and I called him out on everything he has done for years to bring us down(he's not abusive in any way, but he drinks more than he should, and he never does literally anything around our property, and never has, and just trashes it, very cliché trailer trash style). Like theres trash and beer cans and old scrap debris, etc, and I called him out on the fact that apparently he expected me to clean it all up, never have any help, and take care and maintain it by myself, while raising our 3 kids, and all the animals(we have 6 acres, and various farm animals). To be fair, I haven't been the greatest either, I've been lazy, but I fully admitted that in the same breath as I pointed all this out to him. We talked for hours. I talked for hours, it seemed like. It probably was, but it was the longest, most brutally honest and open minded conversation we've ever had. He apologized. He understood how I felt, like I had no voice with him, not really. He admitted he fucked up. I pointed out so many revelations to him. During the midst of all this deep, honest talk, we talked about nature and reality. I pointed out we are a balance, everything is. Male and Female have to be in balance. This reality we are in needs balance. I was WOMAN and I needed him to be MAN. He hadn't been, not really. That night, I started my period. I could feel it, physically and mentally. I swear I felt my uterus and what it was doing. I was FEELING it. I was feeling like RAW, FEMININE, POWERFUL ENERGY. I was a Goddess. I had never felt so confident in myself. I was in control all night. He even weakly tried to like, bring the Male back in once we ventured back into the house, and it didn't work. I didn't let him. He didn't get to go back, he didn't get to regain control of the trip like he always did. It was mine. It was my painful gift to him. I had been having tears streaming down my cheeks the entire time I was talking outside, but in the dark he couldn't see. Everytime he sees my cry, he gets upset, and then I try and stop crying because I don't want to make him upset, which makes it worse and I cry harder, and it's this vicious loop. But because he didn't know, he didn't see, I was able to keep talking instead of hiding in my tears. He didn't want to kiss me after we talked, which I found kind of funny. He would kiss me, but it was like a hard kiss, he was tense. He was mad at me for hurting him(he admits I forced him to face his flaws, his mistakes, which was how he was hurting), but he was more mad at himself for wasting all these years. I told him I was sorry for hurting him, but I wasn't sorry for saying any of it. I tore my husband apart that night, and myself, and then I put it all back together, and will have to continue to put it back together. By the next night, I could tell he was still mad at me for the trip. It had been over 24 hrs, and the fact that he was still upset honestly made me happy. Good. Maybe we can grow as people now, and be better. I asked him though, because I couldn't tell. Why was he still mad at me? And I told him, “I'll wait, take your time and really find the answer.” It took him a while, but he was finally able to tell me...He was mad at me because I hadn't told him all the shit I told him sooner. I told him to fuck off, because I'd been trying for years. After he was able to say WHY he was mad, he wasn't anymore, so it's good now. Everytime I cried over the years, and couldn't tell him why, and he would get upset, which would make me feel guilty for not being able to say anything, which made me feel worse. Twelve years together, 9 months of tripping just about every month, and everytime we trip, I would cry, and try and tell him what's wrong, but it wouldn't work. He understands now. I understand now. I still am hanging onto that GODDESS feeling, it hasn't left. What I got out of that trip, I can still feel it in my belly, it makes my chest tight just like how I felt during. I hope whatever he got out of it stays too. I hope we can keep the momentum rolling. We did a dump run yesterday, for the first time in like 6 months(we have to haul our own trash, there's no curbside service where we live), and he is still acting all gung-ho to get the property cleaned up, get his tools and target shooting shit cleaned up and put things away where they go(all this shit has been piled on our porch since we moved here 3 yrs ago, it's all his crap, and there's literally an empty shed he could put it all in). I'm hoping whatever inspiration he has to be better sticks. I'm not going to let mine fade however. I deserve to feel myself