Yesterday I dosed 30 drops psilocybin liquid in the morning and 10 in the afternoon just before I went to a music festival to see a friend perform in his band. It was something of a rollercoaster of emotions, but which ultimately led to several very key personal victories.
Despite waves of anxiety at the prospect of having to catch a public bus and taking a trip out of the city to an outdoor music festival, I made good conversation with people and maintained my sense of self-worth. I noticed neurotic tendencies in my friend, who displayed a heightened sense of arrogance and judgmentalness towards people and music alike. I had instinctive reactions against his meanness towards somebody (not me). I thought about how this behaviour was likely indicative of a feeling of inadequacy on his part, as if he was projecting such arrogant judgment on the world around him, it was likely that he was also subjecting himself to the same treatment.
I was very aware of my own reactions to what was going on around me, too. I anticipated feeling a sense of envy or hate towards my friend or towards other musicians who were enjoying exhibiting their work to an audience. Despite this anticipation I found myself genuinely enjoying my friend's performance, having seen him grow and mature since the last time I saw him many years ago, and taking pleasure in his pleasure of performing. It felt wonderful.
After his show he had some interviews to conduct and I found myself roaming the festival alone for a few hours. I began to feel a lull in myself and started resenting everybody around me, feeling depressed and alone, as though to be forever unlovable and unbelonging. I think this was due to the beer I was drinking, which definitely seemed to have a depressive effect.
I had a brief text conversation with an ex, the longest one in a while, which seemed to spark some hopes in me that she'd be more communicative. After some empty, light conversation, I tried to initiate something a little deeper by asking her how things were going with her, personally. She made it clear she didn't want to open up at all, which in my depressed state frustrated me and I began to think of her as aloof as though she were personally insulting me. A great victory came here when I truly considered her side in this conversation. She had great trouble opening up to people while I'd known her, and in noticing that she still had this problem I felt a wave of empathy and compassion for her. I realised that to take it personally is to miss the broader, richer picture completely. She is having intense personal problems, probably struggling through her daily life, and can't bring herself to do something simple as to let me know how her work is going (I never initiated any profound or intimate conversation). I felt for her. If opening up to people makes her feel so uncomfortable or so sick, that's a terrible state to live in. I removed myself from the equation, asserted the boundaries of my secure individuality, and took the hint by wishing her a great weekend. I'd successfully navigated that situation, learned a great lesson, and grew as a person.
The rest of the festival went well. I chatted almost non-stop to my friend and we had a great time bonding over similar music and interests. This is what it feels like to have a true friend, I think. It felt good!