Once my highschool psych teacher told our class a story about a guy who dropped acid at his bachelor party. Well, this trip was all his body needed to push him over the edge of schizophrenia, which was genetically there, but not yet triggered. He never ended up getting married. I don't think she was lying to us.
I never want to lose my grasp on reality. Sometimes when I look at my room I don't recognize it. Not often, but sometimes, I feel like I'm floating in my life, and it's only vaguely familiar. Sometimes I feel real disconnected, and it scares me. But then I go to sleep, or relocate until it passes, and I'm ok again. I really fucking hope that's not a precursor to crazy.