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Ah, this one hits close to home. Except for my insane mushroom trip, I didn't think I was dying. I had something in my head telling me to kill myself - over and over again. I'm not normally suicidal. I mean, I've certainly had thoughts during particularly dark moments of my life, but never to the point of seriously considering it, i.e. making plans. But shit, I cannot explain the pure, raw despair and hopelessness I felt for idk how long. I am 100% certain that if I had been tripping alone, I would have done it. Fortunately, I was with my 2 older brothers and my now-husband, and ultimately what kinda "brought me back" was one of my brothers having a meltdown of his own. Kinda put me in care taker mode, and helped me get out of the woods. I've taken mushrooms since, but I insist on microdosing and never being alone, and only with people i truly trust. I'm terrified of letting that part of my brain take over again.