Citation: Trip Narrator. "Detachment Went Unnoticed: An Experience with Diphenhydramine (ID 88575)". Erowid.org. Feb 11, 2011. erowid.org/exp/88575
11:10 PM, two handfuls, 750mg worth of benadryl down the hatch. I consider myself an 'experienced tripper', I've done lsd, lsa, shrooms, dmt, dxm, and dph. My highest dph dose was 1200 (a story much harder to put into words). My most recent trips were about a week before today, 3 days before that, and 4 days before that, all mixed with robo, so only 300mg dph each. My main concern with this trip is that tolerance will fuck me over and I won't trip at all, and it'll be a waste of an entire night. If I'm not seeing any 'cool' hallucinations on a benadryl trip, it's totally unenjoyable, the body high absolutely blows, and it limits me from doing anything but stumbling to bathrooms and bumbling about uncomfortably.
In about 30 minutes, my (slight case of) hppd begins to intensify. Within the hour, it has morphed into the fleeting, squiggly, swarming insectoid creatures along with the watery flowing currents on the walls and carpet that encompasses a low end dph trip. I stare at the walls, inspecting the fluid-like lines and specks that now drift from ceiling to floor. I try to judge how hard I'm going to trip, based on how quickly the visuals ramp up. So far, I'm disappointed. The complexity of the hallucinations has barely increased for a while now. Tolerance for sure has ruined this attempt.
Soon, the slight delirium effect of a low dose of the drug begin to settle. I feel as if my image-identification ability is slowing being destroyed; its beginning take to longer for my brain to attach a name to the things I'm seeing. I'm starting to get clumsy, taking caution not to knock into the glass of water as I pick it up. The keyboard feels like an alien object, the keys seem to be farther apart and more hostile to the touch. I am very aware of the bones in my ass pressing against the wooden chair. It is uncomfortable. The most dreaded of my dph come-ups settles in: the nausea. I'm on tinychat at this point, which I intend to stay on for a as long as possible, but the gurgling heated feeling in my chest and stomach becomes too much, at which point I have to lay down.
So most of my dph trips go. Laying on my bed, head propped up, hands on my lap, observing my room, I attempt to measure how deep into this pestilent cloud I'm going to sink. I begin thinking of responsibilities I had during the day; I keep imagining myself at work, preparing food, then stopping to sleep, then preparing it again, worried that the customers have been waiting a long time. Suddenly, I realize what day it is, and I'm worried about the date, appointments, people I was supposed to talk to, oh man, I'm late, I missed that, and its all because I did dph! I always come out of these situations as soon as I'm about to talk, finding myself in bed, the sound of my voice slapping me into reality. During this time, I am constantly filled with a rotation of worry and relief, worry and relief as I go in and out of these waking dreams.
Eventually, I have to get up. My prostate is beginning to swell, I can feel the pressure build up. I walk about my room. The visuals are absolutely average, and I'm pretty disappointed. I consider the trip a lost cause. It's been about an hour and a half now, and HOLY FUCK FUCK FUCK I HAVE TO PEE SO BAD. I take 4 trips to the bathroom within what was probably about 30 minutes. I swear my dick is only about an inch long, it feels absolutely tiny. I begin to think that maybe dph permanently reduces penis size.
In between bathroom trips, I'm pacing my room, holding in pee and worrying that my parents would notice that I was constantly in and out of the bathroom. This was one of the most uncomfortable phases, as my mouth is drying out, and it feels as if my innards will soon rupture. I wait for what I presume is a decent amount of time to avoid suspicion in between bathroom breaks, which was probably only about 3 minutes. I try to think of clever ways to pee. I consider peeing out the window, peeing in a cup, drinking my own pee. I eventually convince myself to just use the bathroom.
It's around 1 now, and I consider this trip a failure. The visuals, which is why I do this shit, are looking fairly dull, nothing I haven't seen before. Stickperson-like bugs, along with see-through insects and flies skitter about my window sill, but the hallucinations aren't strong enough to where I can actually observe exact movements. Vibrating fluids paint the walls, while clumpy jiggly bubbles of clear hair litter my bed. I playfully grab at them. In my mind, I'm sort of making fun of the drug, like its a child. 'You made these to confuse me, but I know they're real!'. I get up to pee one more time, and also go to the kitchen to get more water.
Suddenly a knock-knock on the front door. The bane of dph trips: people who don't know I'm tripping, and who I don't want to know I'm tripping. My first assumption is ALWAYS that its the police, so I'm worried, naturally. I'll play it safe and get the water, then flee to my room. Fortunately, its a family friend (I'll call him poog). My dad and poog walk past me and go sit in the living room. I'm filling up my glass, attempting to be as quiet and inconspicuous as possible. 'OH HEY [trip narrator] WHATS UP' I hear from the living room. As I walk by I wave and smile give him a dry, airy 'hello', trying to pass as sober. Hopefully they don't notice... Luckily, he responds simply, and they go about their business watching TV and talking.
When I get back in the room, I take another moment to observe the visuals. The flowing water on the walls has turned into a stormy gale, blowing white and blue smoke left to right, then reversing, blowing it the other way. I look up at the ceiling, which has taken a orange-pink glow, and the wall perpendicular to it, which is purplish-red with a blue outline (this is due to my ceiling fan, which has red, white and blue bulbs in it, but the dph had alienated and also intensified the colors, making them hard to discern, and confusing looking). The popcorn (I believe thats what its called) design on the ceiling is flowing towards me, while the details on the wall perpendicular to it are flowing down, both at about the rate of an airport baggage conveyer belt. It's a very interesting effect which I hadn't noticed on any previous trips, and I am happy that I get to see at least one spectacle. I observe it for a while.
I'm walking to the kitchen. Poog calls, 'oh hey [trip narrator]' and waves. I return a raspy 'hello', and wave back. I notice that his wife, his son, and his daughter are all in my living room, sitting on the chairs and couches. They've been here for what has to be at least an hour now. My mom comes out of the garage and tells me they're going to church. Sweet! I'll be alone. I fill up my glass and return to my room.
I'm sitting at my computer, eating chicken wings, but this is the worst goddamn chicken I've ever had. It's extremely dry, and feels like snakeskin cardboard. When I look at it, my brain says 'yum, chicken'. Every time I bite it, I'm so very disappointed by the texture that meets my teeth and lips. I must have been given the bad part of the chicken. As I stare at it, it looks very strange; I'm taking big bites out of it, but its all skin, I'm assuming. I rip it into pieces, trying to find the meat. I consider going to tell my parents that the chicken I got was total ass, but I decide to avoid interaction with anyone until tomorrow.
I'm in the living room playing halo. My dads on the couch; I look back at him, and say hi. He says hi back. I'm getting some gnarly kills, awesome splatters, all kinds of cool stuff. Throwing blind grenades across the map, getting doubles. Surely this is the best I've ever played, to my surprise. I look back and see my dad, and say hi. Maybe he didn't hear me, because he didn't respond. Eventually, I get bored of Halo, clearly I'm far too good for this game, and get up to go get more water.
I go to the light-switch in the living room to turn the light off. Like a punch in the gut, I hear my dad say '[trip narrator], are you ok man?'. Instant chills fill me. 'Yeah I'm good, hehe' I respond, attempting to act as casual as possible. I wonder what it was I had done that caused him to question me. Did I stumble, or was I playing really badly? Oh man, it'd be so funny if I was playing badly and I thought I was good lololol, etc. I question if my dad and his voice were merely hallucinations and figure they were, and this calms me. I'm amazed, I didn't think I'd have such realistic audio hallucinations from such a mild trip.
Stomach down, head and arms off the side of the bed, staring at the floor. Wow, there are insects E'ERYWHERE. I was amazed to see the 'insect blanket' effect, so this trip wasn't a waste! Every brown coloration on the carpet turns into roaches, pill bugs, ants, and spiders, beetles. I observe their confused movements, as they walk around and back and forth, always moving, but never going anywhere. I'm satisfied with this, glad that this trip wasn't fruitless. I got visuals without the delirium somehow, a grand success.
I'm walking to the kitchen. I can see my mom and one of her friends in the garage folding clothes. My dads friends are still here. I get more water, and look at the time on the oven: Holy shit, it's 7 AM! They've been here for hours! Are they ever going to leave? I go back to my room to check the time on my computer; the time keeps changing, and I eventually decide its a certain time, only to check the time again and see that I was hours off. After staring at it for several minutes I determine that it's probably somewhere between 11 PM and 4 AM; a safe assumption
In the kitchen, dropping off a cup full of pens that I found in my room. The cups probably dirty, because its been full of pens, so its best to leave it in the sink. My mom is sitting on the counter in the corner, holding her knees, staring into space behind a bowl of fruit. 'Why are you back there, mom? That's a weird place to sit.' I say out loud, laughing at how silly my mom looks.
In the folds of my blanket are what must be billions of red ants, an enormous swarm of them, all moving about. They fill the crevices of the patches on the blanket; shadowy, red festering globules, the size of those tiny ghost ants. I observe them for a bit, as I've seen this exact hallucination on a previous trip, but in much larger quantity. These piles were about the size of two nickels. I grin and poke at them, anywhere I touch they dissapear, and the gap is soon filled with more that spontaneously emerge from the blanket. I swipe the whole glowing lot of them away. I've seen this already.
I find myself in a hallway, with a large chair at one end, past that, darkness. The only light is a far off blue glow, presumably moonlight. I'm not entirely sure what is going on or where I am. I look around, and see a very tall man wearing a hat next to the chair. I suddenly think, HOLY SHIT ITS THE HATMAN! Finally, at long last, I get to see the fabled trip rare spawn. I move a bit to get a better look, and he moves too. He seems to turn around and then I can no longer see him. I quickly realize that it's just that silly old dph, making me think there's a hatman in my house. I pat myself on the back, as I have the leg up on dph, easily discerning hallucinations from reality.
In the bathroom, about to let loose the longest pee ever known to man. As my stream hits the toilet, I hear poog yelling something outside the door, and I stop peeing immediately and listen. Nothing. Slightly confused, I continue peeing, and again, the moment the piss hits the water, incoherent babbling can be heard just outside. It takes several rotations of this for me to finally realize that I'm probably hallucinating. I finish my business, which I swear was longer than 30 seconds, attempting to make sense of the crazy man outside the bathroom. In my clumsy state, I had covered the toilet seat and floor in urine. Cleaning on dph is always fun.
I pour myself a glass of milk and put it on my computer table. Being overly cautious with liquids around electronics, I reconsider, placing the milk on the floor. I think about this and decide it's safer to leave it on the table, I'll bump into it if its on the floor. I figure its a better idea to put it on the floor, to avoid potentially getting my computer wet. Hopefully I won't knock it over if its down there.
I find an unidentifiable fetus growing inside of my wall. I warn him not to get any bigger, or the wall will break and the whole side of the house could come down. He begins to expand, and I get nervous, though luckily he stops expanding before the wall gives way. I'm imperative in telling him he must go. He leaves my wall through the exit outside, I am relieved.
I attempt to turn my computer and lava lamp on, and not being able to find out where the power button is, or where I am supposed to put the power cord, I am convinced that both are broken.
Eventually, I lay in bed. I figure the night wasn't a total waste, the ceiling visuals were cool, and I did see bugs all over, which satisfies my curiosity enough to where I can go to sleep. As I'm laying in the bed, I see my moms head peaking out from behind my door. I close my eyes, hoping she won't notice me.
I trip over the iron that my mom must have put in my doorway. Poog walks by my door. 'Worst thing to possibly trip over' I say jokingly, attempting to prevent him from asking questions. He walks away, and I put the iron in the bathroom, think about it a bit, then correctly return it to the ironing board. 'Now you're thinking, [trip narrator]! Responsibly putting things back in place' I tell myself. I'm proud.
I swear I was just in bed. I move the covers, bugs falling everywhere; I brush them away. I sort of fall/crawl into bed, ignoring the patches of red ants, deciding that I was too tired to deal with them now. My entire night of dreams is filled with random, imagined realistic moments of driving, interacting with people, walking around places, working. It's often very hard to tell which events actually occurred, as it feels that my brain files real memories in one file, dream memories in another file, and dph memories in both files. When I awoke the next day, I was immediately worried that I had performed actions such as getting a hose stuck in the pool pump, starting up a bunch of starcraft games then quitting out cause I was bad, driving absurdly wildly with a cop car right behind me, killing my pet rats with neglect, and leaving milk out overnight, among other things. Using my sober, clearheaded logic, I assured myself that none of these events occurred.
As you may have guessed, it was just me, my mom and my dad in the house during the trip.
I listed most of what I remember, and in what order I interpret them as happening chronologically. What exactly happened, I'll never know. I'd love to record myself one of these days.
Damage report for morning after:
A green trashcan, which I have never seen, is on my computer table. A cloth bag I'd never seen before is in it, along with my wallet, and some random pieces of paper. I remember taking something out of the garage, telling my mom that I was going to put trash in it. I lost my keys, and after searching every imaginable crevice in the house, found them in the trash can covered in coffee grinds. Yum. My Link (yeah, zelda game link) papercraft is ripped into pieces, in the kitchen, my room, the trashcan, all over. It's what I attempted to eat, and considering it bad chicken skin, threw parts of it away, and left the rest scattered about the residence. Random food items in the kitchen (fruit, cookies, cereal) were now misplaced about the house, namely the fridge, in the sink and in the trash. I had left on most of the lights in the house, and left the garage door open.
The cup of milk never existed.
I knocked over a glass of water, and it soaked into my floor all night long.
In conclusion, I underestimated the dph severely, and it slapped me around a bit. I'd never actually done a 700 dose; my first trip was 1200, and the rest were mixed with dxm. I assumed that a 700 dose would be nothing like a 1200, and I was mistaken. The only difference with 1200 is the delirious effects were slightly stronger, the blackout periods were much much longer, and comedown was full of full-blown hallucinations, like earthworms, dying rodents, and level 6 house flies that have reincarnation. I definitely would not do another 700club+ dose without a trip sitter, and possibly will not do one again, as I would like to keep incidents of eating non-edible items from ever happening.
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