I’ve never done acid, because I’m terrified of where my little rat brain might take me. As revelatory as it may be for some, one is forced to continue to attempt to be a human while on the substance. Managing to eat, drink and breathe is one thing, but our even more lowly requirements continue to make their demands throughout a hallucinogenic experience, as well. One of them, of course, is pooping.
Does pooping on acid send you into a state of bliss from your renewed sense of release, or does the abject filth of the human body force you to confront your inescapable sense of mortality? As these anecdotes from those who have pooped on acid themselves reveal, well, it varies!
‘It Was a Religious Experience’
A Pooper Who Wished to Remain Nameless: I was camping with friends on Santa Cruz island off the coast of California. Shortly after we dropped some acid early in the afternoon, my stomach rumbled and I realized I had to go. A few years earlier however, I had a bad trip on mushrooms after I got separated from friends and couldn’t find them out on a hike, and the anxiety of getting separated again led me to do my best to forget about my need to shit and go about tripping with the group. A good six or so hours later (absolutely incredible hours, I might add), we arrived back to camp still feeling plenty weird and I realized I still needed to take that shit.
I wanted to avoid the weird compost toilet as that seemed like an unsavory place to be, so I made my way into the woods until I found a clearing of trees. Making my way into the center, bathing in the moonlight of a nearly full moon on a crystal clear night, I dug a hole, got 100 percent, completely naked and squatted down. It was a religious experience. I don’t recall straining or even trying to do anything resembling what I remembered as “pooping.” It left my body on its own as I stared up at the moon, nearly wanting to cry in relief. It was incredible. Afterward, I found some bush, cleaned up and buried everything, got dressed and nearly danced my way back to camp feeling both a sense of relief and pride in the fact that I was able to navigate the entire complicated process while still cruising.
To this day, the sensory experience of the moonlight, the cool chill on my naked body and the experience of what I assumed at the time was a demon leaving my innards is something I don’t think I will ever forget.
Lost in the Festival Porta Potty
Sam, 28: We used to joke in college that once you go into the porta potty, you never come out. It’s very intimidating to go in a little room and just sit there without going stir crazy. Once you sit down in there, you can kinda just get distracted and forget what you’re doing and stare at the wall. But I’d say like most drugs, everything feels better when you’re on them. It’s a very euphoric experience.
Also Lost in the Festival Porta Potty
Chris, 27: I’ve pooped on acid a couple times — always in a dark porta potty at music festivals. Every time has been super disorienting because of the lack of light. I lose track of time trying to make sure I’ve “finished the job.” I’ve tried to go as fast as I can to not lose my friends or to not miss any sets I’m trying to see. But that always feels like a daunting task in the middle of a music festival.
Sensing a Theme Here
A Second Anonymous Pooper: At a small outdoor music festival, I drank some liquid, ate a chili dog (?!) and was in the dark porta potty for what was probably about 10 minutes, but felt like a lifetime of fear and regret.
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One Final Unnamed Acid Shitter: The last time I took acid, I spent the entire time pooping. So, so much poop. I felt as though I was being wrung out completely. I have more [acid], but I’m afraid to take it because if I poop any more my soul might leave my body forever. (I’m kidding; but seriously, the pooping on acid was most unpleasant, like a stomach virus.) I’d only do acid again to prep for a colonoscopy. I’m sure the acid is better than the crap they give you legally. I think I might enjoy a colonoscopy on acid. I’ve never had one before to compare it to, but if you’re going to have one, you might as well also take acid.
‘Exorcised Some Demons’
Nick, 28: I pooped then threw up 20 seconds later while on two tabs. Very unpleasant in the moment, but I felt a trillion times better after. I blamed cigarettes, leftovers and being too dang high. I exorcised some demons. It’s weird though, like you need to talk yourself into having faith in your bodily functions — “This is normal, let this happen. You poo every day, this is not different.” But it doesn’t feel normal, so you’re like, “WHAT IS HAPPENING?”
Challenging Your Limits of Disgust
Eddie, 30: The first time I did four tabs, the stimulant poop-trigger started to go about 90 minutes after I dropped. I knew this would be inconvenient because I was definitely coming up, and already was aware that bathrooms are the wrong place to be for the start of a trip. But I sat down on the john and, over the next 10 minutes, fell into what seemed like an eternity of shitting — minutes crawling like hours as I counted every hair on the tile floor. I have no idea whether I even actually took a dump. Eventually, I finished up and stood up… and immediately stumbled sideways into the bathtub, because my legs were asleep. I think I finally got out of the bathroom after another 30 minutes of just lying there. The bathroom is where I go to challenge how much disgust I can tolerate while on acid. I’d recommend everyone just close their eyes while pooping, otherwise.
Preparation Is Key
Chet, 41: In 2019, I drove alone on a Wednesday from Chicago to Pittsburgh to see Phish. I was bummed because my LSD package hadn’t arrived on time, all that I had was two doses from the last delivery. So, I went to the hotel bar to pre-drink for the show and see if I could make friends. I met a nice couple in the elevator and overheard their conversation about LSD. I introduced myself and explained my predicament and asked if they could help. Thirty minutes later, I was in their room and was given many drops of liquid LSD on an Altoid that also held my last two doses — way more than I actually intended to or typically take.
I love an adventure, so I took all of it on my walk to the venue, not realizing I’d forgotten to deploy “the system.” LSD is almost certain to give me diarrhea, and with seven doses in me, it was all but guaranteed. Again forgetting about “the system” on the walk over, I could feel myself starting to come up and my trip starting. Not uncommon at this stage is a little bit of gas. Feeling a bubble, I decided to take a gamble. I lost. Big time. Immediate, hot shart. Now walking very gingerly, I stumbled into a bar to find the restroom. Luckily there was a stall. I had to get ass-naked from the waist down in order to clean up and toss my dirty unders. Clean, and now fully tripping, I made my way into the show sans unders.
“The system” is what my friends jokingly call my method to avoid LSD-rhea. Forty-eight hours pre-show, I start taking Imodium prophylactically. Any show day, I double up and take the Imodium twice daily. Too many times at shows, I would be caught, deep in a heavy trip, in a sweaty arena filled with weirdos, having full blown diarrhea. Taking an arena dump is never pleasant, a Phish show being the worst. Too many times I found myself in a bathroom stall staring at the ceiling, or laughing at my balls while missing my favorite band. And thus, “the system” was born.
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After hearing these tales of acid-pooping, I’m still quite firm in my decision to avoid the substance, myself. Admittedly, the idea of pooping naked in the forest while bathed in the moonlight does sound quite beautiful. Knowing myself, though, I would simply end up in my own personal episode of Naked and Afraid: Constipated and Hallucinating Edition. I think I’ll pass.