healingdove
New Here
I took LSD with a few people one month ago (I had only tried it twice 10 years ago and never had an issue with it--nor any history of drug addiction or mental health problems, just one dumb decision that I thought would be "fun" for a few hours).
One person had a psychotic reaction and slammed my hand in a door when I was protecting another person in the house from them, which cut off part of my finger permanently. Because I was totally aware I had taken LSD, I looked at my finger (bleeding profusely) and convinced myself that I was just having a bad trip and that it didn't really happen. Nobody would let me get medical attention because they didn't want to get "in trouble" for having drugs in their house.
I knew that the LSD would only last 8-10 hours max. I stared at the clock and fixated on when my trip would "end," not realizing that my injury was REAL. The pain was horrific but I thought I was just "imagining" it, or hallucinating it. When 10 hours passed and my finger was still missing, that's when I "lost it" or went into what I will call a true death experience. The only way my brain was able to reconcile the nightmare of what happened was telling myself I must have died from the injury and that I had entered the afterlife.
I put "band-aids" on my open wound for 5 days until a relative saw it without a bandaid on and took me to the emergency room. I stayed in this "afterlife"/crossroads place mentally for 11 days, I even thought the emergency room was fake, the x-rays were fake, everything fake. I was paranoid of everyone/everything. I never slept. I now know that for that whole time I was in a fight-or-flight constant response. I had to pee every 5 minutes, no food would digest, I could hear every sound at once, it was horrible.
After the 11 days, conversations with a loved one started to help me see glimpses of normal. For the first time, I began to see what happened to me ACTUALLY happened to me and that I was an alive person experiencing the effects of trauma. Once I realized I was alive, that's when I started to have specified panic attacks... I came out of the 24/7 panic and into back and forth glimpses of normal and complete panic episodes. I had never had anything like this or any mental problems in my entire life.
I finally saw a therapist and am getting sleep at night taking adavan which has greatly reduced the daytime panic but things are not 100%. I know that I made a terrible choice to ever agree to taking a drug, but my hand was purposely slammed in a door when I was trying to protect someone else in the house. I lack family support because I told them the truth and they just blame me for taking the drug in the first place (the reality was we were all in serious danger from the person who had the bad reaction to the drug). My actual experience of the drug itself was just the stars looking extra bright outside (I wasn't having crazy hallucinations or anything intense). Finally my "friend" called the paramedics and they took the other friend away and put them on anti-psychotics, so the dangerous person was gone.
I am trying to move forward... but who can relate to having felt truly gone/dead? The sad part was how much I believed and accepted that I was in fact dead and tried to just breathe and embrace my new "fake life" with my "fake" family and "fake child"? It was the worst feeling ever. having such an intense experience and like I can't relate to the "average" person from my former life? I know I am getting better, but there is some need of mine to connect with others who understand what I went through, especially with an additional physical injury that is STILL an open wound trying to heal. It is so hard...
One person had a psychotic reaction and slammed my hand in a door when I was protecting another person in the house from them, which cut off part of my finger permanently. Because I was totally aware I had taken LSD, I looked at my finger (bleeding profusely) and convinced myself that I was just having a bad trip and that it didn't really happen. Nobody would let me get medical attention because they didn't want to get "in trouble" for having drugs in their house.
I knew that the LSD would only last 8-10 hours max. I stared at the clock and fixated on when my trip would "end," not realizing that my injury was REAL. The pain was horrific but I thought I was just "imagining" it, or hallucinating it. When 10 hours passed and my finger was still missing, that's when I "lost it" or went into what I will call a true death experience. The only way my brain was able to reconcile the nightmare of what happened was telling myself I must have died from the injury and that I had entered the afterlife.
I put "band-aids" on my open wound for 5 days until a relative saw it without a bandaid on and took me to the emergency room. I stayed in this "afterlife"/crossroads place mentally for 11 days, I even thought the emergency room was fake, the x-rays were fake, everything fake. I was paranoid of everyone/everything. I never slept. I now know that for that whole time I was in a fight-or-flight constant response. I had to pee every 5 minutes, no food would digest, I could hear every sound at once, it was horrible.
After the 11 days, conversations with a loved one started to help me see glimpses of normal. For the first time, I began to see what happened to me ACTUALLY happened to me and that I was an alive person experiencing the effects of trauma. Once I realized I was alive, that's when I started to have specified panic attacks... I came out of the 24/7 panic and into back and forth glimpses of normal and complete panic episodes. I had never had anything like this or any mental problems in my entire life.
I finally saw a therapist and am getting sleep at night taking adavan which has greatly reduced the daytime panic but things are not 100%. I know that I made a terrible choice to ever agree to taking a drug, but my hand was purposely slammed in a door when I was trying to protect someone else in the house. I lack family support because I told them the truth and they just blame me for taking the drug in the first place (the reality was we were all in serious danger from the person who had the bad reaction to the drug). My actual experience of the drug itself was just the stars looking extra bright outside (I wasn't having crazy hallucinations or anything intense). Finally my "friend" called the paramedics and they took the other friend away and put them on anti-psychotics, so the dangerous person was gone.
I am trying to move forward... but who can relate to having felt truly gone/dead? The sad part was how much I believed and accepted that I was in fact dead and tried to just breathe and embrace my new "fake life" with my "fake" family and "fake child"? It was the worst feeling ever. having such an intense experience and like I can't relate to the "average" person from my former life? I know I am getting better, but there is some need of mine to connect with others who understand what I went through, especially with an additional physical injury that is STILL an open wound trying to heal. It is so hard...