My First Psychedelic Experience

What's that all about?

I’ve written a lot about my experiences utilizing psychedelics with great benefit to myself and others. All without really going into depth on my actual experiences— what happens in those few hours after we consume these mind altering substances?

People oftentimes have fear about taking psychedelics, I think that is normal and healthy, especially when you are talking about using them to work on yourself. With that said, much ground needs to be covered to destigmatize and demystify what an experience looks like.

Here are the facts: A controlled setting with facilitators, preparation, and integration is the best way to do this (Apply Here)— Does it always happen that way? No. Can it still be impactful? Absolutely. Below is a story about how impulsivity helped me let go of a lot of the guilt I was carrying, and truly grieve a friend. I wonder what my experience would have looked like, how much I would have learned from it, and how much deeper I could have gone if it had been in a controlled environment.

I am not at all regretful— it’s why I am alive, and it’s why I do what I do. To catch folks that might find themselves in the position I was in. I am hoping by sharing this story, others will feel more comfortable applying for programming like what we do at Truxtun— to help them take the reins in their own lives.

First Time

As I have written about in other articles— my first ever psychedelic experience came after losing a close friend in the Navy. That paired with being dropped from a program I had stored all unlockable self-worth within set me down a really dark path.

So what was my first ever psychedelic experience like?

It was myself, and two buddies, Greg and Robby (not their real names). Greg had some experience with psychedelics, Robby did not, nor was he planning too, that said context is critical, and he was part of this journey whether he liked it or not!

We were in the beautiful surf village that is Ocean Beach, CA— OB for short. Walking through the streets nearest the ocean when an opportunity presented itself, one to buy mushrooms. Despite having literally never taken a psychedelic in my life, I took the lead here, and bought enough for all parties to enjoy.

After purchase, the three of us began walking down the beach, waves were breaking, the sun was getting ready to set, magic was in the air.

Greg was in charge of distribution— this was before you could ask chat-GPT how to dose, and long before I would have cared about the accuracy of such a measure.

Greg then goes ahead and gives me a few of these magical portobellos to gnaw on, and we continue our walk. Robby abstained, he’s a hoot in any social situation though, so that was not a problem for Greg and I.

I have a relatively fast metabolism, or at least I do with psychedelics— they have always hit me rapidly, within 10-15 minutes and I am feeling it.

We continued our walk down the beach, the sun seemed infinitely further down that days ark than when we began. The sky was abundant with light and color. Yes— the typical oranges, yellows, and reds of a California sunset over the water, combined with the not so typical hexagonal patterns through the sky, flashes of purple and blue, and a rhythmic heartbeat flowing within it all.

It envelops me now, years later as I write it out. I remember turning around, where the end of the beach shifts into dog friendly territory, and the break remains prime for surfers. All I could think about was beauty, and all I could feel was happiness. Two things I was disproportionately missing at that time in life.

We walked back to a local bar, a spot called Wonderland— check it out if your nearby, the view from the deck gives you a window into the first time I entered the metaphysical plane.

We hung out there for a while, and things got… funky. My friend Robby turned into a catfish, I told him this, surprisingly he was offended? I had to explain to him that his head literally morphed into that of a wise old catfish— not a misrepresented dating profile as he assumed.

I also spoke very deeply with the trophy fish on the wall, our communication was non-verbal, and as deep as I have had with any living being.

Before we get to the part that saved my life… What do I make of all that?

At first I didn’t know. It was just fun. FUN. It was joyful, it was recreation— the old latin root of recreation is recreatio, which translates to restoration or recovery. Yes, recreation is apart of restoring one’s self. I needed that fun, that recreation, that JOY back in my life. Especially if I was going to get anything out of what was to come.

As all this was happening, something was calling me, call it an impulse or intuition, to head back to the beach. I stepped outside with Greg, when suddenly inklings of paranoia crept into my mind. I looked at Greg and he without a word from me, said “Don’t worry, it’s all part of it”, I smiled, let go of those anxious feelings, and decided it was time to head over by my lonesome to sit in the sand.

I walked over (made sure to ditch my flip flops, wouldn’t be needing those) and found a comfortable area. I observed and felt everything around me. It was a lot, but comfortable.

It didn’t happen immediately, and I didnt recognize it instantly, but slowly I realized I was being held my something— someone. Not physically, it was on a level beyond the cells, it was my soul being held.

It was my friend Kyle.

Anyone who knows me, or has read some select articles I have written, knows that Kyle was a very close friend of mine while I was in the Navy. His life ended after he successfully completed Hell-Week— the hardest part of the hardest military training on the planet.

There he was. Next to me in the sand overlooking the pacific.

I was alone and tears started running down my face. They were of joy. The first I had felt of that emotion in months. Kyle was dead, I had just been dropped from this special program I idealized— and I was crying tears of joy.

That’s what these medicines do— provide a new perspective, help you let go, help you move forward, help you live.

After Action:

Those are the biggest highlights of my first ever experience. While their was more, it was mostly a vibrant, yet tired afterglow, a call to a loved-one, and some more goofy moments with Greg and Robby.

I also had a negative experience with psychedelics after this! That experience happened entirely due to alcohol! I don’t regret it, and I also don’t drink anymore— maybe the medicine was trying to tell me something then as well…

I hope more folks share their stories, good and bad— writing about them is a gift to others, and will help all of us continue to demystify, and destigmatize psychedelic experiences. This holds true especially of a controlled and safe experience, guided by facilitators who are trained for any and all situations. Journey on.

Tommy Connelly is the Head of Community Engagement for the Truxtun Foundation— a 501©(3) Non-Profit dedicated to increasing and subsidizing access to plant-medicine based retreats for veterans and leaders everywhere— Follow him here on Substack, Instagram, or LinkedIn

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