		 DOSE:

		 10 ml
		 inhaled
		 Ether
		 (gas)

		 1 cig.
		 smoked
		 Cannabis
		 (plant material)

		 200 mg
		 oral
		 Pharms - Memantine
		 (pill / tablet)

		   repeated
		 smoked
		 Cannabis
		 (plant material)

		 25 mg
		 oral
		 2C-C
		 (capsule)

		 18 mg
		 oral
		 4-HO-MiPT
		 (capsule)

		 10 mg
		 oral
		 4-HO-MET
		 (capsule)

		 12 mg
		 oral
		 3-MEO-PCE
		 (capsule)

		 75 ug
		 oral
		 LSD
		 (blotter / tab)

		 5 mg
		 oral
		 Pharms - Aripiprazole
		 (pill / tablet)

		 1 mg
		 oral
		 Pharms - Clonazepam
		 (pill / tablet)

		   repeated
		 smoked
		 Cannabis
		 (plant material)

           BODY WEIGHT:
	   130 lb

[Erowid Note:
The dose described in this report is very high, potentially beyond Erowid's 'heavy' range, and could pose serious health risks or result in unwanted, extreme effects. Sometimes extremely high doses reported are errors rather than actual doses used.]

Day 1:

It was a hot day in the very middle of July. I had just arrived home with a whole weekend stretched out before me in the company of one of my dearest friends and a frequent partner in crimes against sanity. He will be referred to as J. My other recurring comrade in these ventures (who I also lived with) was away for the weekend, as were my other roommates, leaving us the entire house to ourselves to see how we could painfully contort our minds.

In the fridge I had been nursing a small vial of diethyl ether for the past several months. It was pure lab-grade, as I had swiped it from my organic chemistry lab. The summer was ending and I would soon reach a hiatus in my explorations. I was desperate to round the month out with some final experiments I never had the time to do before. The Ether I had postponed for a while after reading that the smell lingers on the user for quite some time after. I had nothing to do the next few days except for more drugs, so I figured it was now or never. Another drug to add to the list, another little point of prestige on the internet, another novel experience to brag about at parties. What was I to lose?

I emptied the vial into a plastic Ziploc bag and stationed myself in a bathroom with a fan. I was originally going to indulge outside, but declined due to the intense summer heat, which I feared would evaporate all the ether and allow it to slip by me before I could wrangle it into my respiratory tract. J came into the bathroom to witness the grim spectacle of me sitting on the floor, leaning against the toilet, and inhaling vigorously from a Ziploc bag. The smell was offputting to him however and he ducked out. So I was left alone, pummeled by Kode9 playing unceremoniously off my phone, the rigid edges of the open bag wrapped around my face. Each breath was vibrantly bitter. It was not the sort of sharp and sudden acridity that makes one instantly recoil and hack and cough, rather it was a smooth poisoning that slipped down my throat like a snake covered in gasoline.

It was not the sort of sharp and sudden acridity that makes one instantly recoil and hack and cough, rather it was a smooth poisoning that slipped down my throat like a snake covered in gasoline.

 It was at once sweet and repulsive, meek yet fiercely adverse to anything a person should expect to inhale without consequence. As I drew my face away for some fresh air I realized it was nowhere to be found. The ether had made a home in my face and did not seem intent on dislodging anytime soon. It squatted in my respiratory passages, tainting every breath I took with its illustrious odor. The cognitive effects were lost in the sensory cornucopia- slight head buzz, slight feeling of dissociation, slight numbness in my fingertips. All very slight. It was like being buzzed.

I left the bathroom to air out the fumes and smoked a prerolled joint in an attempt to stir the lingering dust of the experience. Not much arose from this, with the overwhelming acrid flavor of the ether camped stubbornly in my mouth. After about half an hour had passed, this was all that remained of the chemical. It seemed to have evacuated my nervous system and was content to be an irritating presence upon my senses. So much for that experience. It was still early in the afternoon and we had the entire house to ourselves until the next day. On to the next stage of debauchery.

We decided we were going to go heavy on dissociatives in full view of the voyeuristic sun for once. Dissociatives had historically for us only been taken in nighttime, when we could shelter from our experiences in the darkness- or rather let the experiences loose like a dog off of a leash, free to run their course in the fields of our minds. We figured it would be interesting in the daylight, the experience stunned from us in the shock of the sunlight, and us stunned from the experience. I decided to bestow upon him the combination of 3-MeO-PCE and 3-MeO-PCP, a path I had tread a few times before, a combination that lent itself to an intense, stormy, and unrelenting experience, suitable for the experienced dissociative traveler who wanted to swim deeper than they were used to. As for me, I chose mematine as my poison. 200 mg of it this time, a very hefty dose by most standards. My last foray with memantine was 150 mg, and this proved to be an intense experience that dragged on for 3 days.  This dose involved swallowing 20 pills at once- I highly doubt the inventor of memantine would suspect that some chump would be taking 10x the highest recommended dose of their drug.

These doses did not occur concurrently- Memantine has a notoriously long comeup, similar to any marathon hallucinogen like the DOx series, AMT, and 2C-P. J took his dose when I was a solid 2 hours into my experience. The comeup was sterile and nondescript, typical for memantine. Upon peaking, we turned the lights off, the room bathed in the grey sunlight as it filtered through our thin blinds. We both soon found ourselves up to our necks in the dissociative flood, with movement proving more difficult by the minute. We both managed to take a hit of weed from the gravity bong to really maximize our peak before indulging in our desired activity…. Sitting on the couches curled into balls with our eyes closed listening to music…. Honestly we could’ve just done this at night, it really made no difference. Nevertheless, the two of us were entirely incapacitated and content in the safety of knowing we would not be disturbed for the duration of this experience. Both of us were sinking into our respective holes, being consumed by the battering of soundwaves, the gentle teeth of the music chewing us up from all sides, that filtered grey light of the sun disintegrating and cascading onto our catatonic bodies.

Part of my experiment was to determine whether or not memantine made me feel and think of the cold just because I took it in the dead of winter. Though it was almost 90 degrees outside, I once again found myself at the mercy of winter’s spears, shards of ice piercing my bones and zapping my muscles into uncontrollable shivers. I felt raw, exposed, curled up on a dry winter night, severely underdressed, where the frost hangs in the air and the wind saps all semblance of heat. I found myself drifting amidst the same dark winter landscape as before, pillars of trees screeching into the auroral sky. Vast dark fields would interject my journey, grids and intersecting planes and the same looming spectral lo-fidelity beings that drifted this realm aimlessly. After a few hours of immobility and grey, grey stillness, of us both drowning in our respective dissociative maelstroms, our experiences let up a bit. I knew from my previous experiments with memantine that this was but a brief respite- that it would all come crashing back down with force in due time. The taste of ether still lingered on my breath, so sickeningly sweet… I was eventually stricken by an intense nausea- not the sorta twisting cramps and eager discomfort of psychedelics, but more of a soft swirling queasiness, like motion sickness. This was no doubt exacerbated by those stubborn ether fumes. I ran upstairs and purged for what would be the first of several occasions that night.

J had mostly come down. I was lucid but still cruising, still teetering on the edge. 2 friends came over- one of whom practiced music with my friend in the basement. I spent the time lounged on the couch upstairs, dreamily staring at the ceiling and the intricate suture patterns that were dancing across it, still awash in nausea and the same cold sterile dissociation. Lying down was the most comfortable position for me right now. Soon another friend came over. I managed to ignore my discomfort enough to interact with everyone. They were interested in exploring substances too so I cut them both 25 mg doses of 4-HO-DET, as it wasn’t my favorite chemical and I had plenty to dispense.

It was now about 6 hours since I had originally dosed. The rest of the night was fairly foggy and nondescript. I felt cold, I curled into a ball and fell back into the hole occasionally with liberal applications of cannabis. The trip’s intensity came in rolling waves. All of my interactions had a potent psychedelic edge combined with a dissociative fogginess that kept anything from adhering too hard to my memory, except as specters of what they once were. The taste of ether persisted in my mouth and I had to vomit several more times. My other friends seemed to have fun on their trips, save for one who didn’t feel his dose of 4-HO-DET at all. Odd. The night wound down with us playing videogames and enjoying one of the last weekends I would get to spend in the place that had been my home for 2 years, where I had had so many formative experiences and formed so many fond memories. I went to sleep as the sun was rising, my skin still numb and my equilibrium still jilted astray.

Day 2:

My first step out of bed set the mood for the whole day, the feeling like I was stepping into the deck of a rocking ship, that whatever surface my feet set upon was sitting atop undulating waves. I forget how I spent most of this day. Lazying around, cruising on my residual dissociation I suppose. It felt like the aftershowers of sparks from fireworks but drawn out for multiple days. Each crackle was a synapse going silent as the same dissociative chills crawled across my skin.

I had originally planned on stacking psychedelics onto my memantine trip. I figured it would make for an interesting combination, especially considering that my baseline state right now was just raw chemical dissociation. I decided to go with my habit of mixing up a party pill- some absurd, “carefully” chosen concoction of chemicals.  This cocktail was 25 mg 2C-C, 18 mg 4-HO-MiPT, 10 mg 4-HO-MET, 12 mg 3-MeO-PCE and 75 ug LSD combined into a single cellulose capsule. The different crystalline layers of different colors and consistencies made for a pleasing confectionary, the partial tab of LSD jammed unceremoniously into the pile. J decided to go for a trip too, something shorter- he opted for 4-HO-DET. I’m not sure what the plan was for the next few hours- the same lazing around? Who knows. I was just going to occupy the soft spaces downstairs with him.

Such was the plan.

What really happened though-

On the couch I sat unsuspecting- I had just cast the die into a divine fire, entrusted my concoction of spells to the belly of the earth and turned my back to its cacophonous prismatic fire as it screamed into the darkening sky. From that womb of jagged dissociative stillness, of cold towering spires and the paleness of death was birthed a colossus, it’s thunderous gaze like black steel trusses cast across the grey sky. It crept from its birthplace, it lumbered towards its unsuspecting summoner, it heaved and dragged itself, ruining the earth behind it, ruining time before it, its essence drifting along like creek froth caught in a riffle.

From that womb of jagged dissociative stillness, of cold towering spires and the paleness of death was birthed a colossus, it’s thunderous gaze like black steel trusses cast across the grey sky. It crept from its birthplace, it lumbered towards its unsuspecting summoner, it heaved and dragged itself, ruining the earth behind it, ruining time before it, its essence drifting along like creek froth caught in a riffle.

 Breathing, heaving, it extended a single blocky discordant appendage towards me, tapped me on the shoulder, by now I realized I had been fully drenched by its shadow.

“I think I have to go upstairs”

The colossus, the colossi, the colossal, whatever they are, unclear in number, unclear in form, unclear in collectivity – they and it ushered me up the stairs, looming spectral sentinels with ritual smog a veil over their eyes. The colossus wailed at me for hours, scrubbing my memory mostly clean the way one would scrape the fat from bone. Their shouts were nothing to the kaleidoscopic zenith spiraling above them, looming, always one thing looming over another, all gray, all a lacework of intricate vessels and conduits cast in cold concrete relief. The great sky above, those upper waters of the firmament were a testament to an even greater screaming, something deafening, something bigger, golden mycelia from the twisted infected world above seized me and the colossus rose to meet me at eye level, its gaze vivisecting me and casting my neurons aside like bycatch, cleaning and gutting me before the even greater beyond could taste me.

Like crackles of electricity, like getting whipped by braided cables, the yawning above swallowed me whole, an infinite obsidian cathedral, its buttresses glaring over me, taking me into a place where my mind was naught but a jumble of dirty wires, scrapyard refuse cut from more effective machines, and the grey grey dappled light from above shone down on it like an altar, and in the corners of that light, forms, a single form manifest as many, or maybe all of them coming together as one, nevertheless their shadow is at first speculative, but then pervasive, and soon looming. Something is always looming. And me, tangled and flocculating, twitching with clonus and feeling sick and knowing that I am on the precipice of even greater and more terrifying things.

And I think about how much deeper this can go, about what unknown beyond lies beyond this beyond, about how notions of ‘knowing’ and ‘unknowing’ would not exist in the further beyond, as the concept of even existing would be a foreign theorem to the other beyonds. I felt ensnared in rusty shredded wires, writhing on cold concrete, muck and refuse about me as the glistening rains danced on prismatic puddles catching neon lights somewhere out of view. I do not know where these wires went or where they came from, but they were always tightening, always pulling me somewhere.

Eventually I reached the point where memory, along with existence, being, knowing, breathing and feeling were dismissed as foreign ideals

Eventually I reached the point where memory, along with existence, being, knowing, breathing and feeling were dismissed as foreign ideals

, outlanders to be locked out from the bunker of this, of pure thought, of a mind left to deplete itself of all those trivialities, grow deep in its chamber alone and untouched and unbothered, allowed to flourish in the pitch darkness- not the darkness of light obscured or denied from those who seek it, simply the darkness from the total absence of light, the denial of it as a concept. This young sprout, it truly had to grow as pure as it could desire. In this not-darkness, in this not-being, I was invited to have an audience with the growth, having been appropriately stripped of every fundamental of my being. A bare nervous system now before the growth, it asked me to peer into what I could see, here where light and dark did not even exist. I saw chaos, the Sisyphean cognition of fever dreams, of things going where they don’t and shouldn’t, of non-things going where the things go and should, but most horrifyingly, it kept going, beckoning deeper, a minute cavity with golden tendrils- but I could not.

This could not go further, but perhaps I would be truly lost. What would I come back to after this? I destroyed the familiar world, would I be able to adapt again? The consistent explosions of gridded color around me seemed to speak otherwise. And yet there was grounding in delusions, the clawing of tangled and incomprehensible conspiracies based in a very material reality at the edges of my being, ideas of mind control, of other entities intruding on my autonomy at its very core, of my mind being the plaything of powers beyond my comprehension.

When some functionality came about me I did some cursory reading into memantine and some dubious readings into its pharmalogical profile had me call in an abortion of the mission due to serious concerns of neurotoxicity and pervasive cognitive effects. This was likely a panic response to the unexpected intensity of the severe undoing I had just done. Something about it being an anticholinergic? Something about this being triggered by combining it with 5-HT2A agonists? I’m not sure what papers I cherrypicked to come to this conclusion. But the fear of having truly damaged my mind this time was tangible. I aborted with 5 mg Aripiprazole and 1 mg clonazepam.

As I crawled out of the craven cavity / non-cavity from where I was cast, from where that junk colossus had abandoned me, I thought to myself “why am I still doing this?”

“why am I still subjecting myself to being thrashed by non-entities? What have I learned from this? What have I learned from any of this in a while? What am I trying to achieve? Will I be able to live like this forever?”

Which led to thoughts of:

“Do I tell my parents how bad its been, under their noses, though they suspected the whole time, do I come clean about what my hobby for the past 4 years has been, but with a footnote, promise I’ll stop, risk getting disowned, break their hearts again but really come clean and start over?”

But then:

“Do I really want to stop? Where will I find the novelty and whimsy within the boundaries of my mind? This is something you’re good at, something you’re competent at that has lead to a great deal of creative and productive output- this is good for you”

It matters not what I settled on. I felt shaken, shaken by my own hubris, shaken by what lie ahead, shaken by so much uncertainty, from such a certainty of a world where certainty was not even a thing.

When I had come down a little bit I returned downstairs, now caught in the snowdrifts of a benzo fog, courtesy of the clonazepam. My mind was more gathered, I felt burnt though, raw and unstable. J was still down there, his trip mostly having passed at this point. He said it was just okay, nothing special. I was bummed that I was absent the whole time. As I came down more and more that traumatized fear was replaced by a sort of mania, I was giddy at having survived that trial, that my mind seemed to have come out mostly unscathed, that I was a person again.

As I came down more and more that traumatized fear was replaced by a sort of mania, I was giddy at having survived that trial, that my mind seemed to have come out mostly unscathed, that I was a person again.

 My roommate came home later to me babbling with a certain fear and fascination about my ‘experience’, which I had labeled as not even being an experience, but exposure to something… not even a thing but a state? Some word that doesn’t capture the non-existence of that existence. Perhaps language is not meant to address such absurd contradictions and betrayals of normal reality. J went for a snack run at some point, and being in no state to leave the house I had him get me some cranberry juice to try and wash the memantine out. J left later into the night while I pondered my future, shaken and fearful but hopeful. As the night progressed the chemicals in my cocktail fizzled out, leaving the great monolithic bedrock of memantine behind, that same cold dissociation I had woken up with, the first guest to come to the party and the last to leave. We smoked weed and hung out long into the night, each introduction of the cannabis flaring the dissociation up a bit. As the night wound down and the clonazepam demanded my attention I went to sleep.

Day 3: My job grants me 3-day weekends, a blessing. Today is recovery day. I wake up, take a step and have the same familiar feeling from yesterday. My equilibrium and balance are immediately off. I am spacy and dissociated all day, it feels the same as it did the day before, before I took all the other stuff. The clonazepam from yesterday only thickens the fog. I vaguely remember going to the corner store and buying a whole bunch more cranberry juice. Other than that, this day is lost to time. Probably smoked weed a bunch and lazed around with my roommate or alone in my room. Probably took a nap.

Day 4: I get out of bed and go to work. This is worrisome. My balance is still off kilter, I still feel like I could very easily stumble and fall if I’m not paying enough attention. I still feel spacy and distant, conversing with people proves difficult and confusing. I make it through the day without incident though and return home. I spent the rest of the night relaxing on my own, smoking, still trying to make sense of the past few days.

Day 5: I get out of bed and go to work again. This time I feel a little better, still feeling dissociated, still off balance, still spacey, still a bit numb. The feeling has passed by the time I go to bed. I awaken on the 6th day back to baseline.

This was probably the most intense trial I have subjected myself to, both for the number and intensity of the substances involved. I did not go into this thinking I was subjecting myself to a trial, it was more aimless hedonism. But I came out shocked and changed, my perspective on how I use drugs shaken to the core. I think it prepared me for taking a step back with my drug use for the following months where my living situation wasn’t conducive to it. But alas, nothing stays the same and the siren song would come calling again…

Exp Year: 2017	ExpID: 112152

Gender: Not Specified

Age at time of experience: 22

Published: Aug 4, 2018	Views: 21,506

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3-MEO-PCE (536), Pharms - Memantine (309), LSD (2), 4-AcO-MiPT (312), 4-HO-MET (436), 2C-C (262), Pharms - Clonazepam (125), Pharms - Aripiprazole (422), OBE (332) : General (1), Combinations (3), Difficult Experiences (5), Mystical Experiences (9), Entities / Beings (37), Hangover / Days After (46), Multi-Day Experience (13), Therapeutic Intent or Outcome (49), Various (28)


		 DOSE:

		 10-15 ug
		 oral
		 LSD
		 (blotter / tab)

           BODY WEIGHT:
	   180 lb

My Minidose Manifesto

I would like to preface this report with a note on the terminology of ingesting sub-perceptual doses of LSD. Technically speaking, a psychedelic microdose is a sub-threshold dose of the substance. This would lead one to believe that the effects of said amount would be unperceivable. There seems to be a contradiction here that I wish to resolve. Call me a drug nerd or a word nerd, but if a microdose is defined as sub-perceptual, then perceiving anything from a dose you took disqualifies it as a true microdose. Since my experiences with small amounts of LSD have somehow fallen between the sub-perceptual and threshold realms, I propose the term ‘minidose.’ It’s lower than a ‘museum dose,’ (One where effects are apparent beyond threshold levels to the user, but still appropriate for a public experience) but higher than a true microdose. Here’s a more appropriate word for those of us that felt something that wasn’t nothing, but nothing about it was really something, ya dig? Okay, report time!

This report is a hallmark example of an LSD minidose gone right. I have ingested LSD and numerous other substances in quantities that yielded experiences ranging from mild amusement to intense visual &amp; mental effects. However, it has been only in the past 12 months that I have begun to experiment with the practice of LSD minidosing. Each month, I pick a couple days to ingest a minidose. These experiences were chosen arbitrarily, but were always at least a week away from experiences with any other psychedelic so as to avoid tolerance influences. Since each batch of blotter I have obtained tends to contain a different dosage, it takes a little dialing in to determine the ‘sweet spot’ size to slice. If I’m being completely honest here, I did not use a ruler. I eyeballed it. There’s definitely a way to be more scientific about measuring your minidose, but I like to live a bit on the wild side when the stakes are this low. Furthermore, I prefer to cut each according to what my effects were from the previous minidose ‘session.’ This way, I can make a larger/smaller cut adjustment as opposed to having pre-cut pieces that weren’t quite the size I preferred. The blotter I cut it from is a square centimeter, and the sliver my blade yielded is just shy of a milligram. For a reference of dose, I am forced to speculate. These tabs are about 125 micrograms each, so my portion was about 10.42 micrograms. It is cut from the same piece of blotter paper, and I attempt to achieve a 1/12th cut for each. It should be noted here that everyone reacts differently to drugs. I have personally found that about a 1/12th slice of these particular blotters provides the desired effects for me as a minidose.

Most of my minidose days were work days (I work from home), but there were a couple weekend days in there as well. I found that the effects didn’t tend to vary significantly between these settings. For the purposes of narrative consistency and readability, I have selected a day where I felt my notes best represented the most common effects felt across the span of my minidosing experiences. Here’s the scoop:

7 August 2018

10:00 AM – I pop the estimated sliver of LSD into my mouth (1/12th of a blotter). Besides a glass of water, this has been my only intake of the day thus far.

Another comment I feel is worth mentioning: I invariably feel a bit anxious prior to taking any psychedelic substance. I do not experience fear; it’s more of an apprehensive hesitation that is present despite my knowledge of the safety and the success of my past experience. Yet, I do not view this as a negative thing. Rather, I prefer to view it as a symptom of my healthy level of respect for the power of the substance.

10:55 AM (T 0:55) I enjoy a breakfast smoothie of fruit &amp; veggies, a cup of darjeeling tea, and bacon. This is a standard breakfast for me. Aha! I notice effects setting in. There appears a very mild confusion from change of mental state: slight difficulty tracking tasks, I am more easily distracted, and my attention tilts inward towards my thoughts and physical senses during this period of transition.

I am more easily distracted, and my attention tilts inward towards my thoughts and physical senses during this period of transition.

 This passes within 10 minutes, and I break through to ‘The Flow.’

The Flow is an ease of passing from one task to the other without the presence of the ordinary hesitations/stuckness I must overcome to start the next task. For example, I’ve set a goal to do a set of 10 pushups every 2 hours during work. Yesterday I didn’t even try. I thought about it, but other things seemed more important to me and I got distracted. Even though I knew it would take maybe 3 minutes of my time, the mental activation energy required to initiate such a task was not reached. Today the pushups are not only achieved but also done so with enjoyment and almost excitement to have completed the task. Being in The Flow means increased decisiveness, stamina, and focus, though it is not forceful. It is like floating a river in a kayak instead of a raft.

11:13 AM (T 1:13) I notice the classic ‘electricity’ feeling of the substance in the crown region of my skull. This is a familiar sensation I get from LSD that feels like a mildly metallic energy. It’s not a shock per se, but similar to the sensation you get when a very weak 9-Volt battery touches your tongue. It’s not distracting or intrusive; more like a tickle.

11:38 AM (T 1:38) I have fluid conversations with my boss and clients without perceivable drawbacks. My assessment of my body’s energy level is equivalent to a full cup of dark coffee, but without the side effects of jitters and sweaty armpits. This kind of energy is different than any stimulant I’ve tried. To me, stimulants feel like I’m pushing a ‘go’ button in my brain &amp; body and force my heart rate up. They rev my internal engine. In contrast, minidosing is more of a carrot than a stick. I look forward to the experiences and inherent rewards that task completion brings with fresh perspective and confidence in my natural stamina.

12:13 PM (T 2:13) I find that I’m able to make more conscious decisions as to how I react to stressful work scenarios. In moments where I would usually get worked up, I’m noticing a more moderated, slightly detached approach to finding solutions. Upon reflection, my detachment seemed to be of my critical thinking part of my consciousness from my more limbic, emotional side. This recognition of the influence my visceral urges have on my thoughts and actions empowers me to maintain an elevated, more consistent level of overall mindfulness.

1:10 PM (T 3:10) I notice an increased propensity towards making my actions more efficient and swift. This is seemingly driven by sheer novelty, as opposed to a ‘speedy’ or caffeinated urgency. Repetitive tasks typically bore me and cause ‘pop-out’ moments where I lose focus or make stupid mistakes due to a lack of engagement. When minidosing, I find the little things that I normally overlook to be objects of manipulation. For example, rather than going about my normal keystrokes and clicks, I treat the task like a race or production line and attempt to modify my process to increase efficiency. Cool stuff!

1:40 PM (T 3:40) I make time to eat lunch. It’s a busy day, but I don’t feel overwhelmed. I eat a fried rice bowl and turkey sandwich. Food tastes good, as is normal. I do not experience a reduction in appetite as I often do on higher doses of LSD.

2:39 PM (T 4:39) I just noticed something that has been going on for a few hours now: a mild increase in my vision’s color saturation. This is nothing super hallucinatory by any means, but was enough for me to take that second appreciative glance at the way my lamp illuminated the sundries on my desk. Their hues seemed to have an extra degree of purity. In the past, on larger doses, I have had the pleasure of perceiving a much larger spectrum of colors than I ordinarily do while sober (I’m red/green colorblind). It’s difficult to discern whether this was due to a legitimate change in my perceptual abilities or a shift in my psychological appreciation for colors in general. If I had to venture a guess, I would say the latter is more likely. During this minidose, the value of colors was not influenced in any remarkable way, which makes sense physiologically because my pupils did not dilate. I did not have closed eye visuals at any point during this experience.

4:30 PM (T 6:30) It’s safe to say I’ve plateaued in effects.

4:30 PM (T 6:30) It’s safe to say I’ve plateaued in effects.

 Things have been about the same since my last notes.

5:43 PM (T 7:43) The day’s tasks are completed without the typical post-lunch lull in productivity. I find myself working past the optional quitting time out of the desire to make tomorrow less strenuous. This is atypical of me. I still feel a solid energy boost, namely in my head and hands. The nature of this energy is curious… it feels visceral but does not seem to be originating from the places I’m feeling it. The point of origin is my mind, not my body. I feel a nonspecific inspiration, and it is then manifested as a sort of mild electric buzzing in my cranium and fingers (direction of energy from the mind to the body). In contrast, stimulants feel to me like my body parts themselves are requesting tasks from my mind so they can occupy themselves with actions, such as dancing (direction of energy from the body to the mind).

6:45 PM (T 8:45) I begin a workout consisting of weight training with brief cardio warmup/cooldown.

7:50 PM (T 9:50) Today’s workout is completed with an ordinary level of endurance and strength. By this time, noticeable energetic effects of the substance have dwindled and I feel closer to baseline.

8:45 PM (T 10:45) Conversation with a new friend is fruitful and engaging. I have a calm and mindful demeanor during this interaction, and favor listening and brevity over my more discursive tendencies. I would call this change the chief symptom of the minidose’s afterglow effects.

11:55 PM (T 13:55) Time has passed quickly, as it tends to in good company. My partner Lace has returned home, and we retire. Sleep comes easily, and is sound.

Reflections: I awoke the next morning feeling well-rested, back to baseline sobriety, and ready to take on the day. I did not detect any aftereffects (positive or negative) of my experience from the day before. The weekend after this experience (4 days later), I indulged in a larger dose of LSD with recreational intentions and did not recognize any semblance of tolerance.

It’s worth noting that in the process of ‘dialing in’ my sliver size there were days when The Flow was less prevalent and days when I inadvertently pushed the envelope past minidose and into mild psychedelia. Comes with the territory, I suppose.

Overall, I have found this application of LSD to yield consistently positive results. The increased agency of my critical thinking (empowered, I think, by its slight separation from/recognition of my more visceral urges) proved to be helpful in many areas such as my perceptions of mood, energy, creativity, motivation, and overall mindfulness.

Exp Year: 2018	ExpID: 112505

Gender: Male

Age at time of experience: 24

Published: Oct 26, 2018	Views: 15,943

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LSD (2) : Retrospective / Summary (11), Glowing Experiences (4), Performance Enhancement (50), General (1), Alone (16)


		 DOSE:

		 oral
		 LSD

		 oral
		 Alcohol - Beer/Wine

		 smoked
		 Cannabis

           BODY WEIGHT:
	   160 lb

At the time of my trip, I had recently partaken in a ceremonial gathering wherein I vaporized ~20mg of 5MeO-DMT. It was unlike anything that I had ever experienced before. The event was so profound that I no longer consider myself an atheist; and this is coming from a guy who went into the experience a staunch, almost militant, atheist. The experience has permanently altered the course of my life. It was nothing short of a mystical experience… but that’s for another trip report. This trip report is about my first experience with LSD. I mention the 5MeO-DMT only because I believe that the experience somehow blazed a trail through my inner landscape, into the deepest regions of my mind. Ever since that experience, these deep regions are much more accessible through meditation, and psychedelics. It’s like I’ve unlocked a shortcut to a place I never would have believed existed. The temple built not with the hands. I found that same temple with the help of LSD, only this time when I entered the temple, the place had gone all… weird

this time when I entered the temple, the place had gone all… weird

.

The setting is a house in a suburb about 30 minutes north of Seattle. It was the birthday of a newish friend and coworker. The plan was to wait for her parents to leave, then take Acid and watch The Room. If you haven’t seen The Room yet—it’s practically an acid trip in its own right. It is the brainchild of Tommy Wiseau, who might just be the most peculiar man on Earth. The movie feels like it was written by an actual alien who though he was making a normal Earth movie. I was pretty excited.

Not long after taking the acid [Reported Dose: "200 micrograms"], we all settled into the movie experience. It was an absolutely blast. The onset of the LSD was very long and gentle. Halfway through the movie I noticed only that I was laughing a lot (not necessarily unusual when watching this movie), and that my phone had a great tracer effect when I moved it in front of my face. Everything looked softer and more vibrant, especially the colored speech bubbles that I typed into existence on my iPhone.

About 2 hours in, I start noticing that the world had gone somewhat more bizarre, and there was a buzz of energy in me; the character of which was rather difficult to pin down. I’d become uncertain about my depth perception, and I wondered if I still commanded enough control over my body to walk around. So I excused myself from the movie and made my way into the bathroom. To my delight, my body seemed to manage walking just fine. Standing over the toilet to pee was easily managed as well, but as I stood there preparing to pee, I became aware of a slight “wobble” to the world as if perspectives were constantly switching and swimming. The party, the noise coming through the door, people laughing and heckling the movie; it all felt like it was happening in side of me. Not inside of my head, but actually inside of me somehow. I was inside of me. Reality was too immediate, too ‘present’ for this to be a dream, but it had a distinct dreamlike quality to it. Anyway, it made me a little weary about using the restroom while I was inside my body, but I fired away, and nothing went wrong. I zipped up an congratulated myself in the mirror. After a moment I went back out and joined the party.

I felt that I was managing the situation pretty well, so after the movie ended, I made my way to the kitchen and mingled with some co-workers. A few executives from my work showed up somewhat unexpectedly, and I did my best to confine the strange, buzzing energy I was emitting to a level that I could control autonomously from the back of my mind. For the most part I think I was managing pretty well; but before too long I grew weary of wearing the sober mask. I excused myself from the conversation and joined another group in a quieter, more private room, where I could sit and observe the strange effects of the LSD.

This phase of the trip lasted for what seemed like a very long time. There is a chance I was experiencing time dilation, but it seemed like it plateaued at this stage for ~2 hours. Long enough that I began to expect that I had peaked. I started to slide into a state of wonder at how preposterous it was that these chemicals existed, and at the fortune of having found such amazing friends to share the experience with. Looking back on it, I think this might stand out as the most social I’d ever felt at a party to date. Despite the fact that I barely knew any of these people, something gave me the strongest desire to just chat with them, and to engage with them— and look them in the eye.

You have to understand, I’m terrible at small talk. Most people are afraid of public speaking—my fear is talking to strangers 1 on 1. Hell, even pretty good acquaintances give me social anxiety sometimes. It’s not a cold-sweat-provoking anxiety, it’s more of a ears-back, tail-between-the-legs, kind of anxiety. It’s a bit embarrassing, so I have a natural tendency to block it out. Usually my modus operandi at parties is to look busy or try to find a distraction that will give me a plausible excuse to have my attention diverted. Fiddling with the label of a beer bottle, or something like that.

But in this moment I was noticing a reaction from people that I’d never picked up on before— When I approached them, they lit up, they looked me in my eyes and they smiled. If felt really good. I felt welcome.

ººº

My trip officially started on the arm of that couch several hours after ingesting the tab. I sat there smiling, nursing a bottle of beer and smoking a joint when I began to survey the room. It seemed to me that there were people in this room that were “with me”. Sure I was aware that I was sitting on the arm of my friend’s couch, but I was also “somewhere else”. Somewhere much older—somewhere I had only just recently discovered. It felt so familiar that I began to feel uncomfortable. It was like a deja vu that didn’t seem to be going away. As I interacted with them, I began to get an eery feeling that they were ‘insiders’ of a strange and powerful world.

As I interacted with them, I began to get an eery feeling that they were ‘insiders’ of a strange and powerful world.

 A moment of frightening astonishment came over me as this phenomenon intensified. Every movement in the body language of those around me was in some strange way influenced by my thoughts—and not just the people I was engaging with either! Everyone the the whole room, every circle of conversation was a strange play being performed for me. I was not controlling them, it was more like they were attempting to wrangle or hypnotize me. If I moved to interact with one group of people, the conversations of the entire crowd seemed to shift and adjust.

At first the adjustments were so striking that I thought it must be some kind of practical joke; a game of “Let’s make Ben think he’s crazy”, but no matter how many times I tested the phenomenon, it didn’t go away. The fear that it was some practical joke was dwarfed by the fear that it was actually real— that I was in some sort of strange simulation world— A Truman-show-style drama designed to tempt me toward some unknown attractor. As I stopped engaging with the room, it would react by trying to grab my attention. People would get louder, a balloon in the next room popped. If I tried to tune it all out long enough, the tone of everyone’s conversation would turn impatient and scalding. I tried to guess what I was supposed to do, but the more I tried to reason it out, the more frustrated and annoyed the crowd seemed to become. Soon it didn’t even seem like they cared if I knew it was an act. The absurd play morphed into something that closer resembling a sophmorish meta-Kabuki, as each one of them overact the part of a frustrated extra at a party. If you’ve seen The Room, you may remember the scene at a birthday party, where all the party-extras all decide to go outside, or come back inside for no purpose at all, other than because the script requires that two characters be alone— That’s exactly what this felt like— bad acting and all!

I decided to go with it. Obviously whatever power was involved had intelligence far beyond anything I could understand. If it was leading me to some sort of hell, I clearly didn’t possess the power to stop it. I took a deep breath in and looked around the room, letting it be exactly what it was— letting my ears and eyes soak up as much of this insane world as I could. Suddenly things seemed to glow and resonate with an incredibly spiritual energy, and the strange feeling of being guided grew to an unbearable crescendo. I closed my eyes and the unmistakable feeling of falling rushed over me, as I feel deep within my self. I saw the dull read light that was leaking through my eyelids disappear in the distance as I fell farther and farther down. After a moment, I was somewhere far away from my body. I opened my eyes again, but the world was still buzzing intensely.  These people, the ones who were “with me”— They all seemed to be working in perfect unison towards a common goal, which inexplicably revolved around my achieving some kind of hypnogogic breakthrough. The thought came to me, ºMaybe they are me!º— Only they seemed to be leading me toward something that I didn’t know about. But somehow that was it! ºThey need me to do something! But what?º

As if it were the set of an improvisational drama class, the people around me never broke character, despite being clearly aware of the act. And it didn’t seem like they cared one way or another if I knew they were acting. This fact in particular gave the whole experience an incredibly creepy vibe. A room full of memes and tropes— The same tropes that have repeated themselves over and over through time. But why? What are we supposed to see?

ºMaybe I need to let go of this bizarre projection-of-a-world around me and turn my attention inwardº, I though— clearly they were are all me trying to tell myself something, and I was ready to listen. If the answer was inside of all of them, then surely it was within me as well. I closed my eyes once more and took a deep breath in. Again I left my body. I heard the bottle I’d been holding fall to the ground. ºAn illusion programmed to contain youº, I thought. ºThe sound of the bottle crashing against the hardwood floor was just some pitiful attempt to snap me back into the mirror world.º I chuckled at how cliche an attempt it was. A huge smile spread across my face as I sank through a giant transcendental blob of flowing energy. I had laid on this blob before— during my 5MeO-DMT trip, the blob had been a boundary surrounding the “Temple”, or what I now call the Godhead. It had taken all of my courage to fall through the blob on my first encounter with it; this time, I just sailed right through. VIP style.

It’s the most peaceful thing I’ve ever experienced. Pure oneness. A union with the divine. Samadhi.

ºBut wait… what is that sound? Why is that sound here?… It’s a voice!º

“Ben”… “Ben can you open your eyes”?

The sound was a million years away, and so small. It didn’t belong to this world. Far above me, I sensed the body of a man laying alone in the darkness—ºMaybe I can use his eyesº, I though.

What I saw through the man’s eyes was extremely frightening. I saw a circle of concerned faces looking down upon a vanishing soul; and all of this happening at the end of a long dark tunnel. ºSomeone was dyingº, I realized. ºWas it me? Who was I?º A moment ago I’d thought that I was a guy at a party, but that reality had spun apart under the pressure of direct inspection. A peek behind the curtain had been enough to end the whole charade. ºBut how convincing a charade it had been!— and how elaborate!º. And now I was a soul departing its body; already forgetting it’s way back to the physical world. Maybe all those ghost tropes had been messages so that when I got to this place, I’d have to courage to move on. I accepted my fate and once more I let go completely. As I felt my energy approach the blob, I expected to pass through and emerge in some kind of afterlife—instead, I felt as if I was rapidly transposing and inverting through myself. Like a sock being turned inside out over and over. I couldn’t die. I couldn’t reach the Spiritual dimensions that I’d reached only moments before. I was stuck.

This was quite possibly the most frightening place I’d ever been. Surely this was the crossroads between life and death, but I was stuck floating in some sort of dark purgatory. It wasn’t dark exactly, it was—nothing. It was a darkness where not even thoughts of form could exist. An endless expanse which was paradoxically closing in around me; erasing the possibility of shape, or light.

Just then, the voices came back. I heard someone say, “do you want me to call an ambulance?”

ºMaybe I’d gotten the game all wrong… maybe the angels were encouraging me back to this strange body. Maybe it wasn’t my time to die after all!º

I rushed to peel the nothing back and re-enter the universe of forms. First I forced my mouth and lungs back through, but it was much harder to get the rest of my body through. ºThe blob!º, I thought. I was pushing myself back through the blob!

Next I thrust my arms back into existence, starting at the hands. I reached out and I felt fingers clasp around my arms. I didn’t know who’s hands they were, but the touch carried me the rest of the way through the membrane. I opened my eyes expecting to see the answer to this great mystery—but I was back in the bizarre-o-world of the party simulation. ºWhy hadn’t I arrived somewhere real. Who were these angels, and what were they trying to show me?º

I asked them “What’s going on?”, to which one of them responded “Come upstairs and lay down”.  I followed unquestioning; somewhat excited to see where they were taking me, but It was just a bedroom—nothing special at all. ºPerhaps they led me here so that I could journey more comfortably through the blob.º I reasoned. As soon as I laid down on the bed, I began to sink away again.

“Here Ben, Drink this.” one of the angels said, handing me an enormous glass of water. I felt certain that if I attempted to drink the water, I would drown. ºMaybe that’s the key… maybe I’m drowning somewhere, and I need to drown here too so that my soul can move on. But I don’t want to drown!º

“Do I have to?” I asked, realizing I wasn’t sure.

“Yes, water is very good for you when you’ve done drugs.” responded the angel.

I knew I had done drugs, but that fact seemed wildly irrelevant in this context. I had just seen God; I had just died over and over and been repeatedly spit back into purgatory; I had just raised from the dead and was now apparently permanently trapped in a swimming nightmare world made all the more horrifying by the self-evident fact that it extended no further than my direct experience; And yet here was someone talking about drugs!

Water ran down my chin as I drank and drank and drank. ºI didn’t drown!º I though. The angel turned to leave, so I laid back down on the bed and prepared to disappear back into the spirit world.

“Ben!” the angel yelled.

“Yes?” I asked. “What’s wrong?”

“I need to go back downstairs, but I’m afraid to leave you alone because you keep passing out.”

“I’m not passing out—I’m going back to the Godhead” I announced… ºWait…º It was at this moment that I realized that the bizarre-o-world must be real! The party illusion hadn’t been an illusion after all.

It was at this moment that I realized that the bizarre-o-world must be real! The party illusion hadn’t been an illusion after all.

 I realized it was true, but I couldn’t understand it at all. ºHow were the angels able to go with me into the godhead if they weren’t angels after all?º

“But… you were ‘with me’.” I said.

“With you where?”

“In the Godhead.” I said, expecting that it should have been self-evident to her.

“No, I wasn’t. I’ve been at a party this whole time.” She said with a kind smile on her face.

“Will you try to come with me?” I asked.

“Of course— how do I get there?” she asked. I think at this point she was feeling incredibly relieved to know that I had control over my vanishing acts, and that I wasn’t passing out uncontrollably. I had already told her all about my 5MeO-DMT trip, and she’d seemed very interested in what I was calling the Godhead. She probably didn’t expect anything to happen, but partially to humor me, and partially out of a genuine curiosity she laid down next to me and listened.

“Breathe like I breathe” I said, “And, just let go—just follow me.”

We laid together for a few moments as I journeyed through the spirit world in search of the blob—the parameter of the Godhead. I couldn’t quite find it, despite being thoroughly out-of-body and totally immersed in some kind of multi-verse. I felt a presence, so I asked out loud “Are you here?”

The response was only a loving laugh. It wasn’t my friend’s laugh— not the friend laying next to me. It was a laugh I knew quite well; the laugh belonged to a wonderful woman who was not at the party. A woman I was beginning to like quite well.

Before too long I was sucked back out of the spirit world, and back into reality. My friend was there next to me. She seemed genuinely disappointed to report that she hadn’t made it.

For some time we laid and talked. We had one of the most intimate and natural conversations I’ve ever had with anyone. A truly strange and wonderful connection; but one we would eventually find just didn’t survive between us in our sober minds.

After some time, we rejoined the party. The rest of the night played out like a movie. I felt absolutely incredible. Normally I’m haunted by social anxiety, but for the remainder of that night (which lived on well past sunrise), I felt absolutely free—and I mean *absolutely* free. There wasn’t a shadow of self-doubt in my mind. I haven’t felt that comfortable about being myself around anyone— ever. Not with my mom and dad when I was a child, not with my family, not with my oldest friends or any of my previous girlfriends. It wasn’t a drunken kind of freedom either, I was totally aware of an inner transformation. Some things will only last as long as you don’t acknowledge them too overtly, but this I could, and did, observe directly— that I just felt… comfortable.

Exp Year: 2015	ExpID: 108127

Gender: Male

Age at time of experience: 33

Published: Sep 26, 2019	Views: 9,296

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LSD (2) : Large Group (10+) (19), General (1)


		 DOSE:
 T+ 0:00
		 1 hit
		 oral
		 LSD
		 (blotter / tab)

		   T+ 1:00
		 1 hit
		 oral
		 LSD
		 (blotter / tab)

           BODY WEIGHT:
	   126 lb

I got my tabs from a really good guy. They were pure and white; 100ug each. I had been wanting to try psychedelics for a few weeks before this trip, and my dad was okay with me doing them as long as I was a safe environment the first time. The event happened late in the afternoon on a Saturday and early in the morning on a Sunday (October 18th-19th, 2014).

I took the first tab at 6PM at my parents house, then the waiting game followed. My dad and I talked about his past experiences with psychedelics in the meantime for some extra mental preparation. About an hour went by and the chemicals weren’t having an effect on me. Then at around 7PM my body started feeling warmer, with a slight euphoric sensation hitting me. I just felt happy to be around my family and thought everything was great. The only problem was that the acid wasn’t hitting me. I was under the impression that after an hour I would start seeing the walls melt, and my dad was thinking the same thing.

So, foolishly, my dad told me to take the second tab because he thought the acid wasn't strong enough

foolishly, my dad told me to take the second tab because he thought the acid wasn't strong enough

, which was one of a few mistakes that happened during the course of my trip. Immediately after I took it, I started seeing the ceiling in the dining room move around. The texture on it resembled sand, and the way it was moving looked like sand shifting on the beach. It was cool, so I started wandering around the house looking for more things to observe. Strangely enough, the oriental pattern-filled rugs around our house were doing nothing for me, and I never ended up paying attention to them in the long run.

At 8PM the visual effects really started kick in. I could see the patterns on the walls and ceilings around my house slowly moving and I loved it. The plants were also slightly breathing up and down. I also went outside to the backyard where my dad was building a bonfire. We live right next to a park, and since it was getting dark the lamp posts were illuminating the branches and leaves on the trees. Many people report seeing the trees “breathing” on while tripping, but I just saw them constantly melting, which was interesting enough for me. All these things I was seeing were what I was hoping for when experiencing LSD and, honestly, that’s all I really wanted out of it. Of course, I found out the hard way that visuals are not entirely the point of psychedelics, but I’ll get to that later.

I went back inside the house, and things started turning really difficult. One thing I should point out here was that even though I was eager to try acid and research as much about it as I could, I still had a few misconceptions. As profound and eye-opening the experiences you think about as a result of the drug are, these experiences may simply be manifestations of these misconceptions of what the drug is about, and they can sneak up on you and make your trip take a turn for the worst.

It began when I looked at my cat and picked her up. Sitting down on the couch with her gave me my first “enlightened” experience. As I was petting my cat I basically thought: “my cat is meat. I eat meat. I wouldn't eat my cat.” I’ve had these thoughts plenty of times before but this time I got a pit on my stomach while thinking about it. “Why should I eat other animals if I wouldn't at my cat?” It didn’t make much sense either because my parents have tripped literally thousands of times while touring with the Grateful Dead and they still eat meat. I didn’t like these thoughts at all because I didn’t want to give up eating meat either. I had a Burger King a few days after this trip though so I guess it wasn't a problem for me, haha. But yeah, not saying being vegetarian/vegan is wrong at all, it’s just a diet I choose not to partake in. These thoughts basically went away within a few minutes too, but the negativity that came with them stayed with me.

I went back outside to my dad and I could see the quantum strings that make up the fabric of the universe in the air. Then I looked up at the clear night sky and I could see small red dots orbiting around the stars, which I perceived to be planets. This was my favorite visual effect of the drug and I actually asked my dad if those planets physically existed, and he said “it’s your third eye seeing celestial bodies orbiting around the stars” which may or may not be true, but I digress.

At this point all the visual aspects of the LSD became completely meaningless to me and I started diving into the really metaphysical shit. The concept of free will and predestination came into my train of thought. In my head, I saw a web. This web was the web of existence; the web of all living things on Earth, and in this web were an infinite number of paths that I could take in my life. The way I was seeing it was the path I was currently taking was brightly lit up, highlighted you could say, while every other path was dim and sort of faded out. Each and every path was heading toward something. I guess this would be God, but my father calls this “The One.” I call it “The Great Attractor” because it wasn’t a single entity. It was just… a force. A force that I wanted to be a part of. I thought back to the many times sceptics have said that psychedelic effects are all in your head, and how mathematics were the only true way of mapping out the universe, but what I was experiencing was indescribable even by the most complex of mathematics. I asked my mom and dad how long they knew about the Great Attractor, and honestly I forgot what they said because I was too engrossed in my own thoughts. The funny thing is that my dad reminded me of a shaman while he was standing in front of the bonfire he made, which made me have another epiphany: “that’s why shamans exist, the want to be a part of the Great Attractor while still alive on Earth.” In a nutshell, I concluded that the whole point of living was to discover the Great Attractor, and that once you knew the Great Attractor’s existence, you die.

I started to get scared here; extreme panic and anxiety started engulfing my body, and this was near the peak of the trip at around midnight. In my mind I was saying “yeah, I discovered the meaning of life, but that doesn’t mean that I want to DIE right then and there so close before my 19th birthday. I wanted to experience the world we live in before I pass on to the next plane of existence.” A trillion and one more thoughts started entering my head: “Oh God. OH GOD! I’M BECOMING TOO ENLIGHTENED! THE GREAT ATTRACTOR WANTS ME TO HAVE A HEART ATTACK AND DIE SO I CAN BE A PART OF IT! I CAN SEE MY PATH IN THE WEB OF EXISTENCE BECOME MORE AND MORE ALONE BECAUSE NO ONE HAS EXPERIENCED THIS LEVEL OF ENLIGHTENMENT BEFORE! NOT EVEN IN THE 60s! PLEASE STOP PLEASE STOP PLEASE STOP!” Keep in mind that these were all internal thoughts. Externally, I was trying to keep as calm as I possibly could so that I wouldn’t freak out my parents, even though there was a battle in my mind between calling 911 or not. I was CONVINCED that I was going to die. Thinking now, this was probably the ego death everyone refers to.

I was CONVINCED that I was going to die. Thinking now, this was probably the ego death everyone refers to.

Nothing was calming these feelings down. I took a walk around the park, I listened to music, I tried eating and drinking, my mom gave me a massage, nothing worked. According to my thoughts, every thing I found pleasurable on Earth became meaningless, and they were merely distractions from dying and becoming a part of the Great Attractor. My thoughts made me think that my parents (mostly my mom) were lesser beings for not achieving as high a level of consciousness as I was. To tell you the truth, they weren’t being very good babysitters in the first place, focusing more attention on the Notre Dame game than their son who is tripping his balls off, lol. Anyway, this negative thought loop just kept going on and on, and time seemed to be slowing down rapidly. It felt like I would never get out of this trip.

Thankfully, this was the point where I started entering my coming down stage, which probably around 2AM. I told my dad that I wanted to walk along my town’s main street (I live in a big 10 college town and attend said college, too) because I was still having a plethora of paranoid thoughts like “oh shit maybe this type of trip is something only people my age have experienced so if I engage with other college kids they would understand what I’m feeling,” so we did. It was a Saturday night/Sunday morning, so the street was in fact packed with college kids. Along with my panicked thoughts of some imminent force killing me (seeing a near collision while crossing the street didn’t help that at all), I began experiencing auditory hallucinations for the first time. As I was walking, I could hear and decipher EVERYONE’S conversations. I can’t remember anything specific, but I could literally hear what everyone in a bar across the street from me was saying. It was interesting, and one of the few other silver linings that happened on my otherwise terrifying trip. We bought some treats at a convenience store and went back home.

Not much else happened that night. I remember my dad driving me back to my dorm and then to the lake and talking to him about how scary my trip was, but at that point my anxiety really started coming down. It wasn’t until 4:30 or 5AM when I went back home and slept in my parents’ bed. I actually did fall asleep too, but only for 5 hours. When I woke up I grabbed my belongings and went back to my dorm room.

Well, there you go. The trip was a mindfuck and life changing experience, but I really don’t know if I want it to be life changing. Maybe they can be therapeutic for some people, but all it made me do was question the nature of time and reality way too much. I also had panic attacks from smoking weed because it takes me back into that fear-driven tripping mindset. I have experimented with stuff like mushrooms and MDA as well, with most of those experiences being pretty good, but I just think I’m done with psychedelics forever.

Exp Year: 2014	ExpID: 106386

Gender: Male

Age at time of experience: 19

Published: Oct 17, 2019	Views: 11,557

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LSD (2) : Small Group (2-9) (17), Guides / Sitters (39), Families (41), Difficult Experiences (5), First Times (2)


		 DOSE:
 T+ 0:00
		 350 mg
		 oral
		 MDMA
		 (capsule)

		   T+ 13:00
		 4 hits
		 oral
		 LSD

		   T+ 13:00
		 200 mg
		 oral
		 MDMA
		 (capsule)

		   T+ 13:30
		 75 mg
		 smoked
		 DMT
		 (extract)

		   T+ 0:00

		 smoked
		 DMT
		 (extract)

           BODY WEIGHT:
	   120 lb

This report documents two back-to-back experiences I had smoking DMT while also under the influence of LSD and MDMA. The first experience was one of my most beautiful, and the second experience was definitely the most terrifying trip I have ever had. I went to both extremes, experiencing the light side and the dark side of DMT in a matter of hours.

Background: I am a 24 year old male weighing 120 pounds, in good mental and physical health. I take no medications although I do use marijuana and yerba mate on a daily basis. I have extensive experience with psychedelic drugs, and consider myself very familiar with tryptamines (mushrooms, LSD, DMT and 5-MeO-DMT alone or in combination with harmala alkaloids), phenethylamines (MDMA, Trichocereus cacti, 2C-I, 2C-E and 2C-B) and have some experience with dissociatives (Salvia, ketamine and DXM).

Set and Setting: I was feeling uncomfortable in my crowded and chaotic home, and had a burning desire to get out of the house for a night. I had been worrying a lot about my financial security and the safety of my home, and just wanted to escape for a while. Conveniently, I was minding a beautiful home which I would have all to myself. Peace and quiet! Plus, the MDMA monkey was on my back again, urging me to scratch that itch. I have used MDMA a lot in the past, and have trouble controlling my usage. I tend to do too much, too often and have often used MDMA in a recreational and abusive manner. MDMA is my “problem drug” you could say.

I had picked up a gram of MDMA recently, doing so sneakily so that my partner wouldn’t know. Not that she judges me, but I feel my use is not really healthy and not something I’m proud of, so often I am scared to tell her. Sneaking around the bush never helps though, in fact I always end up breaking down and telling her after the fact how much I had taken. It is simpler and less emotional for me to just tell the truth from the beginning.

The Experience: So out I went, a pleasant warm spring night’s walk on my way, winding through parks and along the edges of a golf course. I stopped to climb into a golden willow’s branches and smoke a bowl. I had only intended on taking one or maybe two of the MDMA capsules (each containing 100 mg) tonight. Instead, by the time I got to my destination I had already taken three, and then proceeded to bump a little more when I got there. In total I ingested roughly 350 milligrams.

I quickly became aware that I had taken too much. It was pretty shitty MDMA, I think there was some speed in there for sure because I felt a lot of jittery nervous sensations rather than the mellow relaxation of good, clean stuff. And the nystagmus! Man, my eyes were twitching like butterflies, I could barely see straight and my jaw was clenching pretty badly. What about my short term memory? I used to have one of those, now where did I put the damn thing?

So, what do you do to fill the hours from 1:30 AM to 8:30 AM while high on speedy MDMA? Creating a giant mandala of plants, rocks and other random household goodies, of course! It started off pretty simply, but by the time morning rolled around… well, you couldn’t call it structured, simple, or even harmonious. Crammed, overcrowded and chaotic would all apply. I kept obsessively going out into the garden to pick handfuls of leaves, vines, fern fronds and spring flowers to decorate my mandala. I had nearly all the plants in the house piling up around the edges too!

So in the morning, feeling rough around the edges and having trouble regulating my electrolyte balance (drinking lots of liquids, but not having my thirst quenched) I called my partner, asking her to come over and meditate with me around my mandala. Haha. I was way too ADD to focus for more than a second, and instead of meditating just kept fiddling with bits of leaves and flowers, making small, obsessive changes to my decorations. My partner looked pretty sad, especially when I said I was going to stay here today and do some “introspective, looking within myself” (also known as, getting real fuckin’ high on drugs!). She went home still sad. Secretly, she knew I was high on MDMA. And secretly, I knew that she knew I was high on MDMA. But neither of us had said anything about it yet.

It was about 1 PM now, 13 hours after taking the MDMA. I hadn’t slept in over 24 hours and hadn’t eaten for about 17 hours. So you might say I was permeable to the spirit realms, having drawn a little closer to death myself over the last day. I feel MDMA particularly makes it easier for me to see shadow people, spirits and other spooky stuff. It takes me nearer to death and thus I can see behind the veil more clearly.

I was pretty sure I was setting myself up for an introspective nightmare. Nevertheless, I went ahead with my plan, dropping four hits of good acid and a capsule of about 200 mg of MDMA for good measure (or because the monkey was on my back again, already! Stuff’s got a sinister compelling edge to it!).

And so, stage three of my plan of epic and debaucherous mind-dissolution: rolling a DMT doobie. I had a half gram of high purity Mimosa hostilis root bark extract, and decided to go heavy. Super heavy, actually, I used about half the vial (roughly 250 milligrams!). I had just a pinch of marijuana shake left, so I had to bulk out my plant material with some finely shredded labrador tea, bearberry leaf and a little bit of yarrow. These three herbs were still somewhat fresh, retaining a little moisture, which is a good thing for DMT doobies. Slow burning, warm enough to vaporize the DMT but not so hot as to scorch it. I added the finishing touch, a generous sprinkling of Coca tea, figuring it would numb the throat in a pleasant way.

Half an hour later, the MDMA and LSD I had taken were coming on, so I ventured out into the backyard for my special doobie. It was a beautiful sunny day, blue sky and green grass. I lay down with a shirt over my head to shade me from the sun, and sparked the joint. I smoked a couple hits, finding the taste extremely mild and mostly unnoticeable after the first toke. Very smooth, thanks to Mama Coca. It wasn’t really hitting me hard the way a marijuana plus DMT joint usually does, but I shugged it off and puffed some more. Just keep smoking…

The transition to DMT space was startling in its rapidity. One moment I was puffing, and perhaps the trees had begun to fractalize just a little. The next moment, BAM!!! Fully in. I vaguely remember sitting up and pushing the towel off my head as I went into the trance.

The trees were doing the most amazing dance ever! Thick, grey bark wrinkled up and down their trunks, the branches defining the planes of a complex three-dimensional space around the tree. There was this incredible sound, humming and hawing going up and down, warbling through different tones. A whirling, clanking mechanical sound like an amusement park ride, and these electric zing-ziiing noises. The trees were bouncing, dancing up and down as the sounds grew in intensity and pitch.

When the vibrations reached a critical threshold, the trees would do a quarter-turn clockwise twist. Turning a corner, with a flash of green leaves, and then EXPLODING out the top with a hundred squiggly, purple-red octopus tentacles, as well as amazingly intricate diamond-block patterns in pale blues and black. It was the happy dancing tree carnival!

I had this neat omni-vision thing going on, being able to see in every direction simultaneously. I would see the dances trees, oh yes, and the fractalizing sky, and even the grass I was lying on. The grass looked so crazy, it got all tall and spiky, looking like astroturf from a far distant planet. Everything in my vision was hyper-saturated in colour, a palette of blues, greens and the grey of the tree trunks.

The feeling went on for a long time, in repeating waves. Slowly, the waves became a little gentler, a little farther spaced apart. I began to piece my mind back together, realizing that this green stuff was grass, and that I was still lying in the yard. As I dropped totally out of the trance, I flipped myself over in a jarring way, which was an abrupt end to the trip. But WOW! What a trip! Possibly the most beautiful and amazing DMT experience I have ever had. The setting was what made it really magical. With the acid and MDMA on board, I stayed in the trance state longer than usually, probably 10 minutes or so. In other experiences I have noticed that LSD extends the duration of the DMT, and MDMA reduces my threshold to breakthrough.

What I had just experienced was so magical, that I contemplated diving again, having enough material for one more doobie identical to the one I had just smoked. I thought of a better idea, however. I rang home again to my partner, after struggling for several minutes trying to remember our home number. Ahem… yes, there’s that short term memory loss at its finest. Thanks MDMA, it will probably be a few more days before I can remember my own phone number again. When I finally got the number right, I convinced my partner to drop what she was doing and come back, right away. No, don’t walk, take the car!

I was super excited to share this experience with her. I figured having the exact same ratios of DMT and plant material as in my doobie, plus the exact same sunny backyard setting, and she should have a similarly amazing experience. She has smoked DMT before, but never gone all the way through, often feeling fearful as the intensity ramps up. I wanted to give her the experience I had just had, so that she would gain a comfort level with the breakthrough dose. I knew it would make her happy.

It was more difficult to roll this doobie, since by now I was really high. I couldn’t actually see straight to put in the filter, so I got her to do that when she arrived. I rushed her into the yard almost as soon as she had walked in the door. Getting her to lay down the same way I had, with a view of the trees and sky,and I lit her joint. She puffed, once, twice, a couple more times. Her body started shaking all over, her hand still holding the doobie was trembling. After a few minutes she opened her eyes, saying she had gotten scared as the experience became overwhelming, and so she didn’t want to smoke anymore. She enjoyed the level she went to though which was nice. She had smoked about the same as me, probably stopping just one toke short of the breakthrough point.

By now I was over-excited and twitchy feeling. The eye wiggles had started up again, and I was pretty sure this, or my enthusiastic speech patterns would give me away soon enough. I wanted to dive again, so I tried relighting my doobie. Oh yeah, I hadn’t smoked the whole thing! After rolling the doobie for my partner, I said to myself, “wait a minute, I couldn’t possibly have smoked that whole thing!” There was a cardboard filter at the bottom, for one, so I must have flailed it somewhere as I came out of the trip. Sure enough, a quick search and there it was. I had only managed to smoke about a third of it, apparently having fallen into the trance as I was smoking. Factoring in a little loss due to smouldering plant material, and that the DMT runs down the joint away from the heat, I figure I still got around 75 milligrams. A hefty dose. With shaky hands, I tried lighting the joint again, but three times it went out right away. Perhaps I should have taken that as a sign…

My partner said she would like to try the DMT again, if I would go first. I guess she wanted to see someone else in the deep trance, for reassurance. Well, reassurance was definitely not on the plate this afternoon.

A reminder, that I was under conditions of sleep deprivation, fasting, drug abuse and still coming up on 4 hits of acid plus 200 mg of MDMA going into this experience. Yikes, sometimes I really disgust myself. I lay down in the sun again, with the rest of my doobie. In retrospect, it was a bad idea to be lying down while smoking a DMT doobie. I should have stayed sitting up until going under, you will see why soon…

I puffed once, twice, good deep hauls. I could see the trees begin to shimmer and twist just a little, thinking “here we go!” This is where my experience of events and her experience of events diverge rapidly. I will tell my side of the tale first, and then follow it up with what she observed. In my experience, I started taking a third haul on the joint. All of a sudden I sucked a big chunk of hot ash and leaf material into my mouth, I felt it hit the back of my throat. An acrid bitter taste and smell permeated my mouth. At the same time, in my visual field the delicate lace-patterned trees were no more. This contamination, a black spot at the centre of my vision, grew outward rapidly like a mold or rust fungus. Everything it touched turned black, and then crumbled into ash. I felt the tone and feeling of the trip change, from light to dark.

“Are you okay?” she asked.

“Yes,” I replied. Feeling not too deep in the trance state, despite everything being a fractal blur, I leaned over to spit out the ash from my mouth. My partner’s voice drifted over to me, and my head followed the sound very rapidly indeed.

“Papy, I’m dead!” She said.

“WHAT???” I cried.

Her bottom lip was quivering as she asked, “How can I be dead? I wasn’t dead two seconds ago!”

Our eyes met, and we both simultaneously said, “Fuck!” I dropped my eyes in anguish. “Fuck!” Everything in this DMT space was the polar opposite to my last trip. Instead of vibrant blues, greens and greys, the landscape had a lot of neon green with a malevolent washover of magenta. This was supposed to be my trip, my experience, and now instead she was dead!

“Papy, look at me!” She demanded. That brought my gaze up fast. I looked into her left eye, seeing the iris open up. I knew that I was taking an exact imprint of her, in that moment. I realized something then. You know what they say about love, when you find The One, you know. I knew in this moment, that she was The One. I had found her. Only through a cruel twist of circumstances, my going into DMT space had prematurely snuffed out her life. Something had gone terribly wrong. We were perfect for each other, but it has her fate to die and mine to live. I knew I would be lonely after she died. She was The One, and now she was dead…

Her demanding me to look at her had made me aware of the essence of her womanhood, and it aroused in me an irresistable compulsion. I had to take my pants off, and do her right here! “No!” She said, “You can’t do that here!”

All I could think to say was “I DON’T CARE!” I needed her, but she wouldn’t let me take my pants off. “FUCK!” I said again.

“Why do you keep saying fuck? It’s okay, Papy!”

“How can it be okay that you are dead???” I asked.

“That’s the way it is now,” she replied.

“Fuck!” Then, after a moment, I said “You’re right. This is the way it is now. I guess I can accept that you are dead.” It was brutal but also okay that she was dead. “This is the way it is now.”

Slowly, slowly my mind began to scrabble at a return. I wasn’t yet aware of it, but as she now asked me, “Why do you keep saying fuck? Who are you talking to?” it was the real girl I was hearing, and not a hallucination.

“Why do you keep saying that I am dead?” and I could see tears in her eyes.

“Well, look at you! You’re dead.” Indeed, as the veils had lifted a grey pallor had come over her face. It was obvious to me that she was dead. The burning need to get naked and do her, right there in the yard, was still strong in me, but again she stopped me from taking off my pants.

“Why do you keep touching your penis?” She asked.

“Because I need you!” I reply. I was getting closer, the fractal blur seemed to thin just a little… As usual, dropping out of the trance state happens just as abruptly as going into it. A bump, bump, bump and back into my body. I realized that what I was experiencing had been just a trip, and not reality. It was like waking up from a terribly twisted, sadistic dreams. Coming out of my trip, and realizing it didn’t actually happen, gave me the hugest rush of relief and happiness.

The first sane words out of my mouth were, “You’re not actually dead!!” and I bearhugged her.

She sounded really scared when she said, “Are you okay?”

“Yes!” came my emphatic reply.

“What happened?” she questioned.

“It was just a different experience. The first one was all light, and this one was all dark.”

“Are you sure you’re okay?” she asked again.

“I am 100% okay, other than having sucked a bearberry leaf into the back of my mouth. I guess I can accept one bearberry leaf in return for having had a different experience.”

“What are you talking about?” she asks, sounding lost.

“I sucked some ash into my mouth. Probably a bearberry leaf, you have to shred them pretty fine. I can feel it back there,” and I hawked some phlegm.

I started tripping out on the fractalizing trees behind her head, but she said “Papy, look at me! Stay with me!” and so I did.

She looked at me as if I were crazy, and I told her not to worry, that everything was okay. “You’re The One, love! I am never going to leave you.”

Then, she dropped the first bombshell: “Papy,” she said, “you dropped the whole joint in your mouth.”

“WHAT???”

“… and I didn’t know if you had done it deliberately or not. I was going to take it out, but then you chewed it up a bit and spat some out.”

“Seriously? No wonder my throat feels so raw!”

”Why did you keep saying fuck? Who were you talking to?”

“I was talking to you, except that you had died. Somehow, when I went into the trip you died. It was just apparent to me that you were dead.”

“How much do you remember of your experience?” she asked.

“All of it, perfectly.” I said, which is kind of true. I remember my side of it perfectly.

“What was all that rolling around on the ground about?” She asked.

“Was I rolling around on the ground?” I asked, baffled. After that initial surge of relief, I now experienced an acute wave of paranoia. I was SO GLAD she wasn’t dead, but realized I had probably been shouting my side of the conversation outside, for the whole world to hear. That’s the kind of behaviour that gets you committed to the insane asylum, for sure. “Can we please go inside right now?” I ask, not waiting for a reply and just running inside, all freaked out. Hoping the cops wouldn’t come knocking at my door, which I closed and locked.

We sat down and began to piece together our different versions of what happened. I was quite surprised at how different our two accounts were. My partner was super shaken, she had thought that my mind had broken, and that I wasn’t going to come out of this trip. That she would be dead to me hereafter. It took a while of reassurances and me talking sanely to convince her I wasn’t permanently loco. I also came clean about my using MDMA the last couple days, which was nice. I had that sense of clarity, to realize that lying, stealthiness or sneakiness get me nowhere. They are entirely counterproductive. I asked her how loud I had been, had I been shouting? She said it wasn’t that loud. Also, of the stuff I said to her in my trip, only some of it did I actually say out loud. I also apparently said some stuff that I don’t remember at all.

This seems a good place to start my partner’s side of the story, how things actually happened: The first two tokes, are the same in both versions of the story. It is on the third toke that they diverge from one another. In my version, I take a third drag, not feeling much yet… In actuality, I was already inside of the experience without knowing it. Extremely fast transition.

My partner said it looked like I was going to take a third toke, I brought the doobie close to my mouth… paused a bit… and then dropped the whole fucking thing into my mouth! This is why I said, not smart to smoke a DMT joint while lying down. Apparently I chewed it up and spat out a little, but I ate the filter for sure and probably a good chunk of the joint as well. Gross. No wonder it tasted so bad.

Then apparently I crawled around on the ground for awhile, kneeding the earth spastically. She asked me what I was doing, and apparently I replied “Rolling around on the ground and having fun!” I have no recollection of this, and I certainly wasn’t having any fun!

“Do you remember me restraining you?” She asked.

“WHAT???” I said again. “No!”

She said I kept grabbing the ground, and her flesh as well, pulling with a strong force. I got pretty forceful when I was trying to take of my pants and do her. She apparently told me “I don’t want to have sex right now! You don’t even know who I am!”

“Yes I do!” I said (again, I have no recollection of this conversation).

“Who am I then? What’s my name?” All I could do was stare blankly. She tried again,

“Do you know who Star (our very close friend) is?” I continued to stare blankly. Getting forceful again apparently, and she pushed me to the ground. She must have been absolutely terrified, thinking I had just gone mad forever. She said sometimes I would look into her eyes, almost lucid, but then would just zone out again.

Integration:  I was in the trance state a long time, probably 10-12 minutes. Acid tends to lengthen the effects of DMT, and MDMA definitely reduces the threshold to breakthrough. My partner suggested that my body might have been possessed by spirits while I was in the trance state. Certainly this is possible, having sudden intense finger strength, and saying stuff I don’t remember while experiencing something totally different from the world around me. Having uncontrollable sexual compulsions. Could also just be my mind working on a sub-conscious level, my conscious mind being totally involved in a terrifying experience activating some primative survival pathways in the mind.

The way everything turned to black in my vision, when the joint hit the back of my mouth, makes me wonder if a nasty entity snuck its way into the joint between sessions. It’s pretty odd to drop a joint in your mouth, I remember doing it only once before in all my years of pot smoking. The way the blackness in my vision spread was like a mold or a disease contaminant of some kind. I also pondered whether the woman I had been interacting with was my real partner. Possibly another entity could take on her form and appearance, in order to trick me and try to gain control over me. Reminder to self: specifically state, only entities who are friendly, benevolent and helpful are invited!

By the time we were finished discussing, my partner was pretty calm. I, however, was trying to come to terms with what I had experienced. I began to worry, fearing that some aspect of my vision might actually be true. That she would die, maybe not soon but a whole lot sooner than me, and that I would have to live my life without her. Afraid that maybe, somehow, I had actually killed her through my actions. Talk about unforseen consequences of drug use! I was freaked out, and then some.

It took a long, hot bath, a lot of crying and a cup of jasmine tea before I calmed down a little. Coming out of the craziest, scariest and most harrowing DMT trip I have ever had, peaking on four hits of acid and 200 mg of MDMA seemed pretty tame, in comparison. The emotional shock was just that, shocking. I was overwhelmed by my experience, trying to wrap my mind around it and failing.

Time went on, and we went home and ate some nice grounding food (I hadn’t eaten in a long time), I slowly came back to being okay. I decided that it is not within my power, by smoking DMT, to kill another individual. Certainly it is within my power to believe I have killed another person, while under the influence. What can be really frightening about these sorts of trips in DMT space is that it feels absolutely, vividly real while you are there. More real than real, almost.

I realized though, that it does not matter whether what I saw is “real” or not. We live our lives the same, regardless. Whether we die today or in sixty years, there is nothing we can do about it and no way to know the outcome before it happens. All we can do is live our lives fully, in each moment of every day. I wondered why I had been shown this vision. If DMT is a teacher medicine, then I should be learning lessons from this experience. I guess too, if she were to die, this gives me a reference point for that experience. DMT teaches us a lot about the death process, leraning to let go smoothly. I don’t believe that what I saw is real, however. Not everything you see and hear in DMT space is real or reliable. A lot is trickery, illusion, or something shown so that you can grow from it. I question everything that I see in DMT space. I feel I was shown my biggest fear through this experience, the fear of being alone.

In retrospect, I don’t regret this experience. It was hard for a while, seeing what I had and knowing there is no way to go back in time to before you went through the experience. If I wasn’t ready for the experience, then it wouldn’t have come to me. That said, I do not ever want to go back to that particular place. Some trips you have once, so you know that type of trip is possible… and then you don’t need to have it again. I couldn’t sleep that night, still feeling freaked out, and I wrote the bulk of this report to let it out of my mind and gain some peace. Pushing 45 hours awake, and the sleep deprivation hallucinations were kicking in.

Addendum: It has been two months since this experience. It has been a challenging experience to integrate, I would say I am about three quarters of the way through the integration process. The experience was so real that just thinking about it is enough to get my heart pounding. I was left with a lot of fear, a lot of lingering dread that what I experienced was real. I am learning an important lesson, how to live my life in love and not in fear. I have to choose, day by day, to let go of the fear. I have to choose to live in love and be happy.

I have had one “flashback” to this experience. I had been at an intentional dance that day, a guided dance where we would bring up and express different emotions such as fear, ecstasy, anger and so on. This guided dance had brought my fears to the surface. Later that night, we ate some mushrooms with a capsule of harmala alkaloids. When these substances came on, I experienced a moment of pure fear. I worried again that what I had seen might somehow be true. My body actually went into shock, and I got really chilled and shaky. Though challenging, this was a good process to go through. I feel that by bringing up the fear I was able to start letting go of it, realizing how irrational fear is. I was able to face my fear, and allow it to pass over and through me.

I have not felt called to work with DMT since the trip, I don’t feel I can have a new experience until I finish integrating this one. I did roll a small joint with just a little bit of DMT the other day, with the intention of understanding my relation to the substance, and to let go of my fears. I choose a calming natural setting, and took a couple puffs. Just enough to be aware of the energy flow, nowhere near a breakthrough dose. I could see the trees around me dancing again, but was lucid enough to know the reality behind the dancing trees. The trees themselves are real, but my perception of them is very malleable. This is what DMT does, it plays with my perceptions. What I experience in DMT space is a construct of my own mind. It does not have its own reality, all DMT can do is show me things. It shows me aspects of my mind, but does not create reality. That is comforting.

One thing I keep coming back to is respect. Respect for the medicine is crucial. Set, setting and intent are crucial. I was in a pretty dark place when I had that scary trip, pushing myself too hard and abusing MDMA again. Had my preparation and intent been more solid, perhaps I wouldn’t have needed such a harrowing trip. DMT is an extremely powerful substance, and I had been using it recklessly and in combination with other drugs. I respect its power a lot more now.

This was a very powerful learning experience for me. I feel one aspect of the experience does ring true: my partner is The One. This experience showed me clearly our connection, and what I would feel if I lost her. Doing MDMA sneakily behind her back, generally disrespecting myself and her as well, is not a healthy place to be in. It makes me truly grateful for my ordinary everday life. Truly grateful to live in love with this wonderful woman. DMT is a teacher, and this harsh lesson was there to nudge me back on my path.

Thanks for reading, may you live each moment of every day to its fullest, choosing to live in love and not in fear.

Exp Year: 2008	ExpID: 80226

Gender: Male

Age at time of experience: 24

Published: Oct 6, 2010	Views: 74,672

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