I used to be REALLY eating-disordered– like, starve-myself-to-death eating disordered. I wouldn’t eat anything except celery basically, and when I did I would throw it up ASAP. It began taking over my life, I was obsessed with food and starving and getting smaller, and eventually my parents forced me into a program. They would weigh me once a week and I had to go to a dietitian and a counselor every week, and a physician every month to make sure I was getting healthier (or at the very least, not getting unhealthier.) For a few months, I tried to trick the program, I would chug a TON of water (I’m talking 1-2 GALLONS, enough to get water poisoning if I didn’t throw it all up afterwards). before my weigh-ins so that the scale looked like I was maintaining weight, when in reality I was still losing. My relationships with all of my friends and family deteriorated so much because I was so angry all the time about being put in treatment– and just angry in general. I went to summer camp on the condition that I would be weighed in every week and that if I lost weight I would go home. After the first week, I hadn’t water-dosed before the weigh in (they didn’t tell me when it was supposed to be) and since I had lost weight they sent me back home. My doctors told me that if I didn’t start cooperating they would put me in in-patient treatment until I gained back all of the weight I had lost from my eating disorder (this scared me SO much because I had lost about 60 lbs and that seemed like a LOT of weight to me– I was already afraid of my body AS IS, and at this point of time I would rather die than live in a doctor’s office for what I thought would be for ever (as I absolutely REFUSED to gain back 60 pounds). I became completely hopeless– so hopeless I didn’t even try to kill myself because I couldn’t bother to get out of bed. I ate when I needed to– followed my meal plan because that was the only thing going on in my life any more and I was too tired to resist any more. Gradually, things started improving and I began to realize how horribly the eating disorder had affected my life. I still didn’t eat normally, I still didn’t eat ANY grains or fat, but I started to EAT, at least.
One day, I dropped acid (I later learned it wasn’t even REAL LSD, it was some designer drug) for the first time with one of my friends and had a HORRIBLE trip. She ordered Chinese food and up until I needed to eat everything had been going fine. Once I started trying to eat, the food was nasty and it looked really fatty and greasy, I was trying to eat with chopsticks but they were bending all over the place and I thought I was spilling the food all over myself. It was absolutely terrifying, it looked like everything was starving– the walls, my friend, myself, her cat, the chair, the TV, Buddy the Elf (we were watching Elf– not the best movie to watch while tripping hard). Everything just looked grotesque dirty and awful. I think my friend was able to tell I was having a bad trip, but I didn’t want to act too weird and ruin her trip too so I didn’t ask for help or anything. Eventually I pulled myself out of it and had a decent time, by the end of the trip we were just hanging out and smoking weed. At the time, I didn’t realize the food was what started my bad trip, but in retrospect I realize that it definitely was. After that trip I figured I’d try it again at my house (more familiar surroundings, and REAL acid this time) and see if things went better. My dad made me some stir fry for me, I was in the basement and I started feeling kinda anxious but I couldn’t tell why. I started analyzing my surroundings and trying to figure out where the bad vibes were coming from. I quickly realized that there was nothing wrong with the room, or my TV, or the drugs or the music, but that stir fry sitting there was just bothering the FUCK out of me because I knew I had to eat it eventually and I REALLY didn’t want to. I started feeling very angry at my eating disorder for trying to take over my trip, for taking over my last trip, and for taking over two years of my life. I was angry that it took over my body, my mind, and that it had destroyed my soul. I took that stir fry, and I ate the fuck out of it, and I FORCED myself to enjoy it because I wasn’t going to let the eating disorder win any more.
Well, halfway through the stir fry (only took like 10 seconds to eat it all because I was so determined) I realized it was actually pretty good. I realized that my dad is a damn good cook, and my soul overflowed with love for him. The love I felt spread to encompass everything and everybody I knew, EVEN myself (which was something I had always hated) and my body (which was what the hate manifested itself in.) I looked in the mirror, picked out all of my faults and realized that they were only there because I had been treating myself so badly. I knew that a lot of damage had already been done– my heart was working at such an inconsistent pace, I was dehydrated, my skin looked awful and discolored (it had turned yellow because I had such a bad iron deficiency). There were permanent scars on my body from cutting, damaged teeth from vomiting, thinned hair because it had started falling out. I knew that not everything could be fixed, but I decided that I would be persistent to bring myself back into a healthy state.
It was really hard to get where I am now. Dropping acid did not by any means ‘fix’ my eating disorder– I’ll take all of the credit for that. It brought out a different side of me– one that was always there but was being suffocated by doubt, fear, and hate. I was already on my way towards recovery, but LSD ‘scared me straight’ for lack of a better term, and it reminded me of an ability I thought I had lost forever– the capacity to love.
Haha. Awesome journey. “THE SINISTER STIR FRY.”
That’s great, glad that worked out for you. I think that’s why we need to start legalizing psychedelics for research at the LEAST. They really have the potential to help a lot of people with disorders or addictions. When you think about it disorders are just addictions to a certain unhealthy way of thinking.
And people say that psychedelics are useless.
These people forget that psychedelics do not teach us anything new, they teach us what we have long forgotten.
This story made me very happy and I’m glad you were able to realign with your body.
@luckkbealady, Awesome. Next time do cid outside. I promise. Your a sponge on acid. When you surround yourself with life, like pure seclusion surrounded by nature, or a beautiful meal from a loving family member, you become present to the life and beauty, immediately taking you outside of yourself. If you’re sitting in a boxed room, you will soak up all the energy and information and vibes enclosed around you. This always gives me incredible anxious energy that I can channel into drawing or music, but most people I know agree, never trip in-doors. I think that is a major reason you took a turn to your ‘mind-identified’ state instead of the ‘mind-blowing-beauty-everywhere’ state. Glad to hear your experience, I will pass this on to my sister who shares the struggle.
@heavydreamz, I’ve done acid a number of times since, and generally prefer to do it in my house unless there is something specific I want to do outside (there are a ton of mosquitoes in my area and although I don’t notice them when I’m tripping, the next day I’m covered in bites.) My room and home radiate good vibes to me. I like being outside too, but not for extended periods of time. I typically leave my windows (with screens on them) open when tripping, though.
@heavydreamz plus I guess my neighborhood gives me weird vibes. My family is close with two families around our house but the rest of them seem sort of stuck up (granted, I don’t know most of the adults). When I was little the kids who lived around me were really mean to me and I think I still carry a little bit of baggage from that, so I suppose I feel safer and better vibes in my own home rather than outside around my house
@luckkbealady, I suggest try it once outside. A few things you must consider, my suggestion is to set up a camp site, a place to feel safe and secure is crucial, which is why you prefer to be at home. Set up a ‘nest’, in a completely new space, somewhere totally secluded so that you are free to shout your heart out without that worry in the back of your mind of someone in the distance hearing you. This is extremely liberating. Pure freedom. A change in environment than what you are used to can give you completely new results, your soul will be full of joy to have a place to explore, while also feeling secure. If you have a cozy tent, then you have a place to keep away from bugs.
My first acid trip, I took a taxi to the top of a mountain with my girlfriend with all our camping gear, a ton of blankets and pillows, healthy delicious raw food, music, instruments, random items that we surprised each other with. We got there before the sun rose, hiked to a completely secluded spot, found the perfect place that just felt right, set up our site, took our hits, fucked, put on headphones and took a nap as we waited for the sun to rise and cid to seep into our consciousness. We were still tripping balls when the sun set over the ocean, we could see for miles in all directions from our spot. I havent had such a perfect journey since that perfect day.