Making “bad trips” good: How users of psychedelics narratively transform challenging trips into valuable experiences

Psychedelic substances have a long history of ritual and therapeutic use, and recent clinical research has renewed interest in their potential to treat psychiatric disorders and to induce lasting positive changes in mood and outlook. At the same time, such substances can produce intensely frightening or challenging experiences—commonly labelled “bad trips”—which may include anxiety, panic, paranoia and profound alterations of the sense of self (often described as ego dissolution). Previous work suggests that context, dose and individual factors (“set and setting”) influence these reactions, but how users make sense of and integrate frightening experiences in everyday, non‑clinical settings remains underexplored. Gashi and colleagues set out to examine the narrative work that stories about bad trips perform among psychedelic users. Using in‑depth qualitative interviews with Norwegian users, the study aims to (1) characterise how bad trips are recounted, (2) show how those narratives convey tacit subcultural knowledge and symbolic boundaries between insiders and outsiders, and (3) analyse how narrators transform frightening episodes into experiences they evaluate as meaningful or valuable. The authors propose that storytelling may be a potent coping mechanism that helps users integrate and continue their psychedelic practice despite unpleasant episodes.

The study is based on qualitative, in‑person interviews with 50 Norwegian psychedelic users (42 men, 8 women), most aged in their late twenties or early thirties and living in the Greater Oslo area. Participants were relatively experienced users: most reported 10–50 lifetime uses and common substances included LSD (n=37), psilocybin (n=36), 2C‑B (n=20), DMT or ayahuasca (n=20) and MDMA (n=34). All were students or employed full‑time with higher‑than‑average educational attainment; cannabis use in the prior year was nearly universal and 30–40% reported use of other illegal drugs. Many participants reported histories of depressive periods, anxiety or substance misuse. Recruitment was self‑selected via a closed Facebook group for psychedelic users (about 7,000 members). Approximately 80 people contacted the project after a study post; screening criteria required participants to be 18+, experienced users (preferably with recent use) and able to attend face‑to‑face interviews. The investigators then sampled purposively to provide more gender and age balance; 50 people were invited and all accepted. Interviews, conducted mainly by the first and third authors at the University of Oslo, lasted two to three hours and covered background, mental health, cultural interests and detailed accounts of psychedelic use, with emphasis on “challenging trips.” Interviews were audio‑recorded, transcribed and coded in NVivo. Initial coding categorised substances and contexts of use; subsequent coding focused on detailed narratives of challenging trips (perceptual changes, emotional responses, aftermath and long‑term effects). Although the dataset comprises 50 interviews, the published analysis uses excerpts from 10 participants to illustrate themes. The study received ethical approval from the Norwegian Social Science Data Services; participants gave informed consent and identifying details were anonymised. The authors note limitations arising from self‑selection, the pro‑psychedelic online recruitment source, a sample skewed toward articulate, educated users, and possible interviewer effects due to the academic setting and sociological interviewer backgrounds.

Nearly all participants (N = 48 of 50) reported having experienced frightening or challenging psychedelic episodes, often labelled as bad trips. These episodes were most frequently associated with high doses of psilocybin, LSD or DMT, and typically began as positive or fascinating experiences before turning distressing. Common features included panic attacks, confusion, disturbing visions, paranoia and somatic distress; however, what participants emphasised most was experiences of losing oneself—variously described as ego dissolution, ego death or fears of “going crazy.” Illustrative first‑person accounts highlighted the phenomenology: one participant (Helen) recalled an episode on magic mushrooms in which ordinary actions felt incomprehensible and she feared she had died; another (Mark) described an LSD trip in which intrusive looping thoughts produced an endless sense of insanity; and a third (Thomas) recounted intensified depressive thoughts culminating in plans to disappear. Time and space were frequently reported as distorted, with seconds feeling like eternity. Participants also described cases in which pre‑existing mental health problems were temporarily exacerbated during a trip. Beyond phenomenology, the narratives performed symbolic boundary work within the psychedelic subculture. Participants commonly invoked a set of informal rules—attention to set and setting, dose control, supportive companions and preparation—as ways to avoid bad trips. Stories blamed many bad trips on users’ lack of competence or failure to follow these rules, thereby positioning narrators as responsible, knowledgeable insiders. Some respondents explicitly rejected the term “bad trip,” arguing that such experiences reflected inexperience or resistance to the substance’s direction (an insider stance exemplified by Frank). Others took personal responsibility for their own adverse episodes (Arthur), a narrative move that the authors interpret as another form of boundary work and loyalty to the drug. A central finding is that most participants retrospectively construed bad trips as valuable or transformative. Many described the unpleasant episode as a turning point that produced deep existential insights, confrontation with repressed material, or behavioural change. For some, particularly those who had attended ayahuasca ceremonies, difficult experiences were framed as cleansing or necessary “ego‑death” rather than mere suffering. Participants commonly used metaphors of going where one needed to go rather than where one wanted to go, and emphasised the therapeutic importance of surrendering rather than resisting. Reports included increased appreciation for life, improved mood and a sense that the distress had enabled subsequent growth. The authors link this narrative transformation to a classic story arc—separation, immersion, return—whereby the bad experience is integrated into a coherent life story and reframed as doing good.

Gashi and colleagues conclude that bad trip stories perform important narrative work for psychedelic users. Such stories allow narrators to claim insider competence, draw symbolic boundaries between responsible and irresponsible users, and sustain a community of users who share meanings and practices. Most importantly, the narratives help users make sense of confusing and frightening episodes by providing them with purpose and integrating them into broader life narratives. The authors relate this process to therapeutic mechanisms from trauma literature, arguing that coherent, meaning‑laden stories can assist emotional processing and positive self‑evaluation. They suggest that narrative sense‑making may partly explain why some users report long‑term benefits after challenging trips and note that these narrative processes are especially salient outside clinical settings. Finally, the study raises the implication that when even negative experiences are routinely reframed as beneficial, one barrier to continued psychedelic use is reduced, because bad experiences no longer function as decisive deterrents.