I was relatively young when I experienced the spice trip to Hell that changed my life. I started smoking spice when I was about 14, and became a frequent user.
I also did acid twice and had smoked spice two or three times before I had this experience. I considered myself pretty tolerant to weed and somewhat seasoned in psychedelics because I was just a kid, yet I had done acid and smoked.
Anyways, I was working at a fast food joint when I was sixteen (I’m almost 19 now), and I was also a hardworking student-athlete. So one day, when I got off a hard day at work I saw a coworker outside in the parking lot.
They were in their car hitting a pipe, and it was not unusual for me or anyone else to share weed during the shift. I got in his car, and he offered me the pipe. I was not expecting spice, and I would never forgive him for telling me it was spice only after I hit it.
Within seconds of the first (and just) hit, I felt and saw the most horrible pain I’ve ever experienced. My coworker’s face split into three parts, and everything started melting away. I heard him screaming at me for what felt like years.
Then everything disappeared, and I was what I instantly perceived as hell. I was in a significant amount of pain mentally and physically, yet I had no sense of self.
I was begging God and my mom for forgiveness, and I felt a desperation and pain I wouldn’t wish on my worst enemy. As far as I’ve experienced and researched, no one can explain what you see during a spice trip unless you’ve experienced it.
To me, it looked like infinite nothingness. It’s a great pain that encompasses all the senses, and nothing else exists. I did not know of the existence, and all I could do was beg God to give me a second chance.
It felt infinite. I honestly thought I was in Hell. What felt like years and years later, I remember my coworker pulling me up, and sitting me on the sidewalk and driving off. Apparently, he did not want to be responsible for the 16-year-old girl tripping balls in the back of his spice-filled car.
Anyways, as soon as I hit the pavement, I began to come to. It’s hard to explain, but I felt like my soul was coming back into my body. I was shaking and crying and breathing uncontrollably, and everything looked pixelated.
I felt like I had been gone for a lifetime and that I could go back at any moment. I have never been able to find out what physically happened to me during that hour period, but I know my soul or consciences or whatever the fuck you want to call it, was not in my body.
For several days after everything looked pixelated, and I had horrible anxiety that my life wasn’t real and that I was going to go back into a trip at any given moment. After that, I pretty much cleaned up except for weed or a drink on special occasions.
But still to this day, three years later, I have anxiety and fear about reality. I barely ever smoke weed, but when I do, I easily trip out if I get too high.
I have never met anyone who experienced this, but I’m desperate to have someone to share stories and the experience with because it still scares me so much.
I know it sounds ridiculous, but sometimes I get this crazy fear that the trip never ended and that my reality ended that day, all because of one stupid hit. Spice is not nice.