Citation: psycho. "You Took Too Much Man: An Experience with 25I-NBOMe (exp101923)". Erowid.org. Mar 16, 2014. erowid.org/exp/101923
This is a story of my psychedelic year 2012 and how it ended horrificly. I've been going through what exactly happened that day and processing the events that led to it. It has been my intention for a while to write an experience report about it, but it was not until today that I decided that I'm ready.
Before I begin, here's some background:
I'm a guy from northern-Europe. I weigh about 65 kilograms, or about 140 pounds, so needless to say I am and have always been quite slim. I enjoy coffee and weed, and I've been a cigarette smoker and addict for a couple of years now.
I'm a quiet guy, and some would even say introverted, but I don't know. I enjoy the company of friends, preferably with cigarettes and beer or weed. I've been slightly depressed ever since this incident, but haven't got around getting an antidepressant prescription; I don't really need it that much, anyway.
It didn't seem like it then, but now that I think about it, the year 2012 was filled with use and perhaps abuse of psychedelics. In February I and my friend, whom I will call T from now on, got some extra money and decided to buy 300mg of chemically pure 2C-E. We both took a dose of 3-5 milligrams nasally, although it's hard to tell as we didn't have any kind of tools to measure it. It didn't hurt nearly as bad as many people say, and after all, from our viewpoint it would've been a waste of drugs to take it orally. It was, apart from a couple of grams of homegrown mushrooms, my first touch to psychedelics.
I was amazed at the colors, most of which couldn't possibly exist had we been sober. We laughed more than either of us had laughed in years. We thought about very deep and philosophical things about the very fabric of our universe. It
was, to put it simply, fun. The comedown wasn't negative at all apart from a little tiredness and sore muscles. We sat on a bench, talked about life and so on.
In the next four months or so we took 2C-E one, two or sometimes three times a week. During that time I started noticing weird things. My nose was bleeding much more often than normally, and every time we took it, I had more and more nausea during the comeup and the snorting hurt more and more. The high it gave me was getting familiar, and not so much fun anymore, but we kept doing it, and at least I just decided not to think about the negative effects.
After that time, we had a break from drugs. I still had about five or so doses of it in my drawer, but the next time we decided to go do it, it was gone. I searched for it for at least half an hour, but it was nowhere to be seen. We were both disappointed, so we thought about buying more, but there was none left. There was, however, little eyedrop bottle-sized plastic 'cans' of 25i-NBOMe in a liquid form. We got directions to drop two or three of drops in our noses, and so we did. I can't remember when we did it for the first times, but I do remember us being happy because it was something new; something other than 2C-E.
We didn't do it quite as often as we had done 2C-E, maybe once every couple of weeks. I didn't realize it at the time, but I felt a little uncomfortable because there were somewhat similar negative effects to the 25i-NBOMe as there had been to 2C-E. I didn't have so much nosebleeds, but the nausea was almost as bad as with 2C-E, and moreso than ever I felt mentally exhausted. Being sober was boring, and while I didn't really want to do more NBOMe, I somehow felt almost as if I had to, simply to cure boredom. I had quite a few empty eyedrop bottles in my room, and a couple of full ones as well.
I think it was tuesday. School had just ended and I walked to a trainstation because I had a therapist meeting I was traveling to. About a minute after the meeting, my friend T called, saying that he's coming to the place I was in and that he had a bottle full of 25i-NBOMe. I had looked forward to getting home and sleeping for a while, but for some reason I said yes. I didn't have any cigarettes or money to buy a pack, and neither did T. He was ok, but I had a bit of a craving. I even asked people for a cigarette, but no one gave me. Me and T went to a McDonald's, sat in the backmost table and he got the bottle out of his pocket, and on the table. I said he should take it first, so he opened it and brought the mouth of the bottle to his nose, tilted his head back and squeeshed. He said nothing came out of the bottle and squeeshed more. When he put the bottle back to the table, it was half-empty.
I should note that each of the bottles contained 5000 micrograms of 25i, which is about five large-ish doses. [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.]
I startled a bit and asked if he should try and wash it out, but he said no and laughed. I felt like I had no other option but to take the rest myself, and so I did. We got out of McDonald's, and he told that he should go see his father before it started coming up. The fastest route to his father would take about 45 minutes and parts of it were always crowded by people.
We got on the train, and noticed that it already (five minutes after taking it) started kicking in. A couple of stops and no more than four minutes later we decided there was no way we could go to his father and got out of the train. We both had quite a severe nausea and our pupils were already very dilated. We started walking around, waiting for the nausea to stop. It seemed like an hour, but 20 minutes later the nausea had mostly dissipated and we were both higher than ever. We kept talking about everything, of which I can't remember anything. I felt like I had to pee, so I walked to a bush. For some reason I just couldn't pee, so I decided to keep walking. We kept talking, and I remember about a five second long time where neither of us talked, and we concentrated on the sound of the cars on a nearby road, the sound of the wind and things like that. The complex mix of those sounds, all very distorted and loud, and the visuals which took up our entire eyesights was something undescribable. To this day I remember each and every detail from those couple of seconds, but can't even begin to describe it, despite being a moment of pure amazement, bliss and awe. It
was the most beautiful thing anyone could ever experience. No matter how beautiful sights you have seen, how good food you've eaten or how good music you've listened, this very brief moment would put all that into shadow.
At exactly the same time both of us looked at another and just burst into laughter. There was tears dropping from my eyes because of the pure beauty that moment. We kept on walking and talking, describing to each other how amazing that was. We didn't talk long about it, because when you're that high, you can't concentrate on anything for very long. Every once in a while my friend just started turning right, walking on other people's yards, and I had to yell for him to come back because, pardon my French, we were completely fucked up, and I thought it still hadn't quite reached the plateau, but it was very close. For some reason the urge to pee suddenly started irritating me, and I left a little behind from my friend. It wasn't so nice of a trip anymore, because I couldn't concentrate on anything but the urge to pee. I started walking slower, and thoughts like 'what if I've pissed my pants?' started filling my head. My friend was telling a funny story and started laughing very hard, but as I didn't answer, he looked back, and as soon as he looked at me, he stopped smiling and looked all serious, maybe a bit scared, and quickly turned his head back. This took
me even deeper into the negative mindspace, as I was trying to think why he did that. Did I look somehow different? Had I really pissed my pants? What on Earth was happening to me?!
We walked for a while, he walking about five meters or fifteen feet in front of me, not talking at all. I must've not payed attention, because I was thinking about these negative thoughts for a while and when I looked at my friend, he was gone. I stopped and looked around, but he was nowhere to be seen. 'Didn't we cross a road just now? What if he was too high to realize that there are cars driving? What if he got hit by a car?', I thought. As soon as these thoughts crossed my head, I felt like my mental self exploded. In a heartbeat, everything was different. I started walking forward, but I couldn't really walk. My legs were like spaghetti, each drooping behind me as the other was supporting my weight. Everything about me and my behavior was utterly bizarre and just.. wrong. I was very worried about my friend, and it seemed like out of the mush that was once my brain, a thought started to form, like my brain was deep in a quicksand, and with the last effort to get out of it it tried to tell me something. 'Jeans.. pocket.... phone... phone!' That's it! I have to call my friend! And so I took the phone out of my pocket and tried to remember, or being this high, more like guess how it worked and what I had to do to call T. Before I could put the screen on, I saw my reflection. My face looked like that of the monster of the scariest horror movie. My eyes had gigantic eye bags, nose was twisted, mouth was mutilated and I had a look of some kind of mix of unspeakable fear and panic and anger. I almost screamed but quickly realized there were a couple of people walking past me, looking at me in disgust and fright. I had to walk to a quieter area, and so I began walking. No matter how hard I tried to look normal, I couldn't control my legs at all. At the same time I was searching for my friend's number, and when I found it I called. No answer. I kept calling but nothing happened. I wasn't sure if I'd done something wrong or why wasn't the phone working. It was calling, sure, but my friend just didn't answer for a reason or another. I pressed 'end call' and called again. Nothing.
I called again and again but he simply didn't answer. I was starting to lose all hope, but I kept calling. All of a sudden it said 'The number you have called cannot be reached'. What the hell was happening?
At that point, my ego had died completely, I was working purely on instinct. Now that I think about it, I don't think I really knew where I was, or what was happening.
The road I was walking on turned from asphalt to sand, and there was a forest to which the road went to.I knew this neighborhood well; after all my home was about a five minute walk away from there. I realized my phone was still in my hand, and I started calling again. Now his cell phone was on again, but still no answer. At this point I
must've called him at least twenty times. Suddenly, the beeping sound stopped. He answered! It took me a while to realize this and think about what I was going to say, but before I could open my mouth, there was a voice. It wasn't my friend, to me it seemed like it was a witch that was laughing at my despair. It startled me and I quickly ended the call. To this day I don't know whether it was my friend that was laughing because he thought the two of us getting separated was funny, or if it really was just my imagination.
'What the fuck is happening? Am I alive? Is this a horrific nightmare? Is this some alternate universe where every tiny bit of reality is distorted?', I was thinking. I cannot describe how scary it felt. Every aspect of reality and the universe was horribly out of place, wrong and turned into negative things. When I thought about it, everything had a kind of green tint to it. You know the dirty, green color that is used in Disney movies as the color of deadly poisons?
That kind of green. It seemed like I was very small compared to everything. Not really physically small, but mentally. It seemed like I was no more than an object for people to look down on and to scoff at. I was the village's crazy guy or criminal, the one that people threw rotten tomatoes and laughed at. The one that everyone wanted to torture for just a little while longer until being put to death in as painful way as possible.
I walked for a little while longer, until I came to a stump covered in moss. I decided to sit on it and try just once more to reach my friend. I called at least a dozen times, but still no answer. Then, someone answered. I yelled 'Hello!' but before I could say anything, there was the voice of a guy that said, not to me, but to someone else, 'yeah, the same guy still keeps calling', and then stopped the call. I checked if I had the right number. It did say T's name, but I couldn't know for sure if I was hallucinating the whole thing... Wait!, I thought. What if this is all just a hallucination? What if I'm not really sitting here, but I'm with my friend somewhere in the middle of everyone, and he's trying to yell at me so I would 'wake up' from it? I tried to examine my surroundings for anything 'unreal' that would confirm this. I tried to listen very carefully, if I could hear my friend talking. Perhaps just hearing it would snap me out of that psychosis-like state? But no luck.
It was about at this moment that I, for the first time in at least an hour, realized that I was tripping. It was only a brief moment, maybe a second or two long, after which I 'fell back' again. After a period of time I don't know, it happened again. A couple of moments like that later I realized that I have to pee, and so I started walking the about ten meters long trip to a good place for that. During the walk, I forgot what I was doing for at least two or three times and walked back to the stump. It was like every once in a while I had a brief moment of understanding that I'm alive and at the same time realizing the needs I had like going to take a leak, but after I fell back into it, I'd forgotten all about it. Anyway, I finally could keep my thoughts together long enough to convince the 'other side of me' to keep walking even though I wouldn't know why. After I peed, I was somewhat relieved, but somewhat disappointed because it didn't snap me back into the normal world, or universe. I started thinking whether I would leave in this evil, alternate universe forever.
I sat there yet for about twenty minutes, after which I decided to keep walking, and walk to a park and sit on the bench. It was a brighter place, because the trees didn't block the light, and so everytime I snapped into reality for a while, I just wanted to bathe in the sun and enjoy the warmth. I started remembering thoughts that I had while on the other side, and so realized that I couldn't do anything to stop myself from falling there, but that it was only a trip, and these moments of clarity, which were getting longer and longer, were a sign of it starting to come down. I pictured it so that I was a ball in the universe, and whenever I would fall into the psychotic state, it was because there was another ball, a dark and infinitely malevolent being, which, everytime it came in contact with me, somehow injected me full of its darkness. This picture was what I thought, partly because I had intense closed-eye visuals which showed and described it to me, and partly because to this day I am convinced that something which creates so much evil and despair could not possibly be just the drug, but the drug would actually be more like a magnet, attracting or calling the dark being to come closer to me.
At some point a father and his son walked past me, and the son, being approximately 5-7 years old, told his father in a rather loud voice 'look, dad, that guy is so pale' and the dad answering that 'yeah, we should leave him alone' but at the same time for under a second, the father looked at me with a facial expression that looked as he had wanted to say 'I'm sorry I can't stay and help you, but I hope you're ok'. All these positive things and the beautiful sunlight and warmth were very welcome to me, with the contrast being something so horrific. It felt as every time I had a moment of clarity, it was a bit longer and the moment of darkness being a bit shorter. I was happy I wouldn't have to stay in that horrible place forever, as I had thought at some point in time.
Again I started walking, and walked to a place with a few people, no wind and benches. The sun had already started coming down. At this point I didn't really have any moments of darkness anymore. I thought that I would sit here for a couple of hours, and then go home to sleep. I was thinking about what had happened, when suddenly my phone started ringing. I looked, and it said T's name. I felt sudden happiness because I would finally know where he was, and we could meet up and talk. I answered, and there was a male voice, different from T's. He said 'have you been calling this number?' 'yes, what's going on?' 'were you hanging out with T today?' 'yeah, is everything ok?' 'T has had a potentially lethal seizure and is in the hospital. Has he done any drugs today?' I stuttered in disbelief, not knowing what to say. I don't know why, but I answered 'no, not that I know of.' '..okay.' and then he ended the call.
I couldn't believe it. What the hell? Wha.. this doesn't make any sense! How could something like this happen, I thought. I became very sad, almost falling into the darkness again. I had the phone still to my ear, I was just looking in distance, shocked. It's impossible to explain what's going through your head when something like this happens. First, ego shattered in thousands of pieces, and replaced by darkness for hours, and just when you're happy because you made it back alive, you get to know that you friend might not be as lucky. I wanted to shut my mind out of it, so I started listening to music. I listened to one song for dozens of times, while looking in the distance and not even knowing where I should start processing the events that took place.
After a couple of hours, I walked home, tried to distract myself by browsing the web, but I just couldn't. I must've stared at the screen for twenty minutes, after which I decided to try and get some sleep.
I didn't go to school for a couple of days, because I simply didn't have the energy to get out of bed, not to talk about sitting in class for hours, listening to the other people laughing at their jokes, wondering if I would think they're funny if it hadn't been for that day.
A couple of days later T called, explaining how he had been in the hospital, pumped full of meds and now going to involuntary drug rehabilitation program. The moment I heard his voice, an enormous weight was lifted from my shoulders. He said he had just barely survived, and had he been noticed ten minutes later, he would've probably died.
The first thing after this was realizing that I was hungry. I ate something, after which I realized I was very tired, so I slept for at least a good fifteen hours.
T got out of rehab eight months later, and now likes to smoke a little weed and take a little bit of shrooms every once in a while. After this incident, I had a couple of months of smoking weed whenever I had any, as to somewhat overcome or forget about the depression and stress this had caused me, although now I hardly have any mental trouble compared to that time.
Albeit sometimes wanting to do shrooms or LSD, I'm still too traumatized when it comes to psychedelics to use them, and I have a feeling that I will be forever. And I think in the end, it's for the best.
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