I want to preface this post with a note: I am not seeking advice or opinions on drug use. The things mentioned in this post are done for spiritual reasons.
The event:
My wife and I just got married two weeks ago. It was a very very small wedding with a select group of close friends and no family, so that we could craft the event around the spiritual use of psychedelics.
It was a multi-day event, and everything was going very well (all things considered... we are a very disorganized bunch of people). After the ceremony, the psychedelic journeys began. Several hours into that part of the festivities, an additional psychedelic was added to the mix. Everything up to and including this time had been familiar territory, so there was no expectation of disaster.
When I added the next psychedelic to the mix, things quickly turned bad for me. My mind started going through a series of horrible experiences all directed at convincing me to stop breathing, as I tried to fight against it or figure out how to accept it was happening and push through the fear of death to "follow the instructions" that my mind had given me.
Unknown to me at the time, I also had VERY low sodium and VERY high electrolytes, which can result in a seizure.
About 5 minutes after this episode started, my wife found me and tried to help me snap out of it. I was curled up and screaming (because screaming = 1/2 of breathing, and I was fighting against my own mind telling me to stop). When she tried to help, I started yelling some very mean things at her. To me, the things I was saying were directed at the psychedelic trip, not at a person. That concept is hard to put into words properly, but I was yelling things like "shut up, you're always so loud. Everything is always about you, just shut the **** up!" In my head, I had personified the trip itself, so anybody talking to me wasn't an independent person, they were an element of the trip itself.
After some yelling, she used her hand to open my eyes, which were bouncing up and down rapidly. I looked at her, made a cute "I love you" face, and said "it's so beautiful here, I don't wanna go back" and went completely limp and ghostly pale.
My wife ran out of the room screaming for help, grabbing smelling salts, and the next 25 minutes were spent calling 911 and trying to bring me back to reality as I laid on the floor curling into strange positions and groaning and saying strange things until the ambulance came. They took me to the hospital 45 minutes away, I got admitted and got a CT scan, and was finally responsive and sane again by the time I was out of the scan.
I have quite a detailed memory of the ordeal because of the way that LSD prevents you from being unconscious, even when your subconscious takes over. I know a good amount of what I said during this episode, and a vague idea of what I was doing. To me, this episode feels much like the aftermath of being blackout drunk, only much much worse. It's like the feeling of "cringy" turned up to 11.
The Aftermath:
I have this superpower that I call neurodivergent-based nihilism.. To me, despite how awful it is to think about that episode, I don't process it on an emotional level. It's a thing that happened, it was awful at the time, now it's embarrassing and uncomfortable to think about. I shake off those thoughts and move on with my day, I'm perfectly happy and have no lingering anxieties about experiencing reality fall apart around me.
My wife, among others, had to watch from the outside. She had to see me lose my mind, yell hurtful things, have a seizure, and almost die mere hours after getting married.
We're now in a position where there's a laundry list of things that have been triggering flashbacks of that day. If I groan in frustration at something, it sounds like the groans I was making that day. If I say certain things, it brings her back to those moments I said similar things while having seizures. If she smells certain things related to what happened, she's back there in that room. Everything that happened in that room has part of her mind frozen in time, and she doesn't know how to escape or how to cope.
I need to know how to help her, and I feel like I'm in a very good position to do so... because she did not lose me, I am still here and able to help her build new memories and new patterns and to reshape how she interacts with this trauma.
Please let me know what I am supposed to do. I'm afraid it could tear our relationship apart because there's just so many triggers. It was a long ordeal, and I did a lot of things that are very typical for me.. things I like doing to be cute or funny, or just different ways I respond to things around me on a normal day.
The event:
My wife and I just got married two weeks ago. It was a very very small wedding with a select group of close friends and no family, so that we could craft the event around the spiritual use of psychedelics.
It was a multi-day event, and everything was going very well (all things considered... we are a very disorganized bunch of people). After the ceremony, the psychedelic journeys began. Several hours into that part of the festivities, an additional psychedelic was added to the mix. Everything up to and including this time had been familiar territory, so there was no expectation of disaster.
When I added the next psychedelic to the mix, things quickly turned bad for me. My mind started going through a series of horrible experiences all directed at convincing me to stop breathing, as I tried to fight against it or figure out how to accept it was happening and push through the fear of death to "follow the instructions" that my mind had given me.
Unknown to me at the time, I also had VERY low sodium and VERY high electrolytes, which can result in a seizure.
About 5 minutes after this episode started, my wife found me and tried to help me snap out of it. I was curled up and screaming (because screaming = 1/2 of breathing, and I was fighting against my own mind telling me to stop). When she tried to help, I started yelling some very mean things at her. To me, the things I was saying were directed at the psychedelic trip, not at a person. That concept is hard to put into words properly, but I was yelling things like "shut up, you're always so loud. Everything is always about you, just shut the **** up!" In my head, I had personified the trip itself, so anybody talking to me wasn't an independent person, they were an element of the trip itself.
After some yelling, she used her hand to open my eyes, which were bouncing up and down rapidly. I looked at her, made a cute "I love you" face, and said "it's so beautiful here, I don't wanna go back" and went completely limp and ghostly pale.
My wife ran out of the room screaming for help, grabbing smelling salts, and the next 25 minutes were spent calling 911 and trying to bring me back to reality as I laid on the floor curling into strange positions and groaning and saying strange things until the ambulance came. They took me to the hospital 45 minutes away, I got admitted and got a CT scan, and was finally responsive and sane again by the time I was out of the scan.
I have quite a detailed memory of the ordeal because of the way that LSD prevents you from being unconscious, even when your subconscious takes over. I know a good amount of what I said during this episode, and a vague idea of what I was doing. To me, this episode feels much like the aftermath of being blackout drunk, only much much worse. It's like the feeling of "cringy" turned up to 11.
The Aftermath:
I have this superpower that I call neurodivergent-based nihilism.. To me, despite how awful it is to think about that episode, I don't process it on an emotional level. It's a thing that happened, it was awful at the time, now it's embarrassing and uncomfortable to think about. I shake off those thoughts and move on with my day, I'm perfectly happy and have no lingering anxieties about experiencing reality fall apart around me.
My wife, among others, had to watch from the outside. She had to see me lose my mind, yell hurtful things, have a seizure, and almost die mere hours after getting married.
We're now in a position where there's a laundry list of things that have been triggering flashbacks of that day. If I groan in frustration at something, it sounds like the groans I was making that day. If I say certain things, it brings her back to those moments I said similar things while having seizures. If she smells certain things related to what happened, she's back there in that room. Everything that happened in that room has part of her mind frozen in time, and she doesn't know how to escape or how to cope.
I need to know how to help her, and I feel like I'm in a very good position to do so... because she did not lose me, I am still here and able to help her build new memories and new patterns and to reshape how she interacts with this trauma.
Please let me know what I am supposed to do. I'm afraid it could tear our relationship apart because there's just so many triggers. It was a long ordeal, and I did a lot of things that are very typical for me.. things I like doing to be cute or funny, or just different ways I respond to things around me on a normal day.