Citation: nervewing. "Eaten by the Weird: An Experience with DXM & LSD (exp107745)". Erowid.org. Nov 19, 2016. erowid.org/exp/107745
T0:00-After smoking a bowl, down the DXM caplets along with 100 mg of Benadryl to reduce the itchiness/nausea that usually accompanies DXM. Already feeling nauseous, the feeling of having so many pills in me is nauseating. I pop the 4 tabs into my mouth directly after. Iím hanging around my room at this point waiting for any effects.
T0:15-I go to play videogames while coming up. As Iím playing I can feel the DXM start to kick in-I feel wobbly, the room feels wobbly and I begin to feel like Iím rocking around. The walls begin to pulse with concentric patterns, at first in just darker and lighter hues but they begin to pick up colors. The game is becoming pretty difficult now, and also pretty confusing- why am I playing this? What objectives am I trying to accomplish? I decide to go back to my room- things are definitely kicking up now. The patterns are on the walls of my long hallway, though they seem to be flowing like a river. I go to my room and lie down on my bed. Standing is becoming increasingly difficult.
T1:00-Once in my room I pack a bowl and smoke it. I am listening to music on my laptop. The music begins to sound more and more surreal- I can hear voices, I can recognize them as human voices but I canít distinguish what they are saying. I can feel the emotion coming off the music and I can understand that, but the language is completely alien. The voices sever themselves and creep through the air like specters, breathing and pulsing. They settle in my mind in the way that leaves fall from trees, each set of words as alien sounds that dance around my thoughts. They expand and pulse and breathe in and out, I visualize them like a patterned bubble growing and shrinking before me, bleeding with emotions. I close my eyes, the scene that comes to me (not literally or visually, the essence of this scene) is a blank grey room, the walls metal. There is a slab of concrete on the floor, with a big block of meat forcefully slammed on it, cables extending from the meat to the walls. The sound waves pulse through the room like ripples on the surface of a pond. My consciousness and sense of anything begins to fade as the walls stripe and shutter. I open my eyes and turn off the music-itís too stimulating.
T1:15-The next 2 (?) hours are beyond any understanding of time and reason. I am sitting in my room in silence. But it doesnít sound silent. The sound of everything is deafening-Every little sound explodes into a larger one, one that resonates and bends and twists to my will. If I think of a song, the ambient sounds of my space will bend and mold to match it. This creates an incredible confusion as to whether or not I have music on or not. I curl up into a ball on my bed and close my eyes. My entire existence is reduced to a radiating geometric pattern overlaid with a pulsing flowing black and whitw chevron pattern. Iíve done this on acid before- let myself fade to nothing, I can jerk myself back as of my own will. But I canít- I feel trapped in this mysterious space without space or time. My auditory and visual space fuse into one sense- a sputtering sound, a sputtering image, like lines on and old TV and the sound it makes. The image begins to twist and turn in conceivably impossible ways, tendrils and projections spiraling and drilling off-what does it mean? I canít even ask myself that, any sense of language is destroyed.
The only pieces of language I can comprehend are snippets of the music I was listening too, dancing around, popping out of the patterns and screaming at me, bending and warping around me. I suddenly open my eyes and jerk myself back-where the hell am I? I look around, nothing looks familiar, I have no idea where I am, what direction Iím facing, which way is up or down or left or right. I have no memory of my state before closing my eyes, I donít remember where I was. It all begins to come back to me though- Iím in my room, Iím okay. My short term memory begins to falter, like it does while Iím on mushrooms. This is always fucking terrifying. This leads to looping- I am just lying on my bed, being altered beyond belief. I want to get up and do things. I stand up, I realize how altered I am, that it isnít safe for me to do things. I go back to the bed. This cycle continues for a while, I keep wanting to do things, and remembering why I donít want to, and forgetting the whole thing. I thrash around on my bed, every time I open and close my eyes I am disoriented, with no sense of the space Iím in. This feels a lot like a mushroom trip, but with more of a body high, compliments of DXM. Then things start to get weird.
I look out of my window and see a bus driving down the street, a person on the sidewalk in front of it. Cool. I continue looping, pacing my room, I feel physically ill and nauseous. I keep thinking I have thrown up/ I am about to throw up. I begin to get the feeling the first time I did mushrooms- I feel like Iíve done something bad but forgotten it. I feel like I left the room at some point, did something fucked up. I feel like I wandered outside, scared someone, that I was just hallucinating the room around me. This is like all of my mushroom nightmares. I am haunted by the thought that there will be serious consequences from this trip. It takes all of my mental effort to avoid having a total freak out, I am skirting the edge of a complete and utter meltdown. I feel awful, I feel like I have doomed my whole life, that I am suffering right now and I am condemned to a future of suffering. I feel myself being exposed to a million multiverses, all variations on this universe, all with substantially less suffering- I am being taunted, it is being rubbed into my face that this life is not ideal and there are lives where I have it better but I am locked out of all of them. I have made about 10 pacing laps of my room at this point, and look out of the window again to see: The exact same scene-literally the same image of the same bus with the same person. Aw fuck, I broke time.
The panic gives way to confusion. I begin to come to the conclusion that I have been trapped in a trick room via loops. The looping thoughts serve as my chains, and I am stuck in a room that defies the laws of physics, space and time as I once knew them have become completely irrelevant. Time speeds up and slows down and stops and starts up again randomly here. The room is at times so tiny I feel as though I wonít fit, at other times it is immense, and stretches infinitely in every direction. A wall looks like receding space, open space looks like a flat surface with an image of my room printed on it. I donít know which direction anything is in, or what directions even are. On top of my panic from before, I am now submerged in a raging river of confusion. I feel like nothing I knew before matters now, that my entire existence has been redefined, that the physics that governed earth and existence have broken. I am trapped, confused, on the verge of breaking down, I still canít tell if music is playing or if Iím imagining it. I just donít know anything. I lie on my bed, I feel so sick, so tired, I want this all to end. I am not sure if I am going to die or not, I feel a distinct malevolence trapping me here, like all the times I did mushrooms. But more on that later. At times I feel better, I feel like its going to end soon, or become a more positive experience, but this only lasts a short time before I am dunked back into it. It feels like my head is encased in wobbling jelly that jumbles up every input. I look out of my window and see a different scene, and this fills me with relief- I feel like I have been released from an awful psychological prison.
T3:00-After some hours of being mentally tortured, of looping and time weirdness and near panic and fear and complete confusion, I am finally and slowly drifting down. It feels like I am underwater, slowly floating to the surface, currents tossing me around beneath the surface. Towards the tail end of the trip I am just feeling burnt, the DXM still makes my limbs feel like wet noodles, the acid makes concentric patterns dance on every surface, I feel a bit sick but ok, I am out of the darkness, I am okay.
Later that night, about T12:00 I begin to analyze the trip, my feelings, the forces involved. In all of my most recent psychedelic experiences I have come in contact with malevolent forces, I have felt definite harmful presences and I begin to contemplate what they may be. I identified two harmful forces:
Mushroom Death- Mushroom death is formless, infinitely malevolent and destructive, a swirling ravaging being who cannot even control itself. It tries to hide itself, it tries to strike when I wonít notice it. Mushroom death is black mycelium burrowing into my brain, blanking out my thoughts and scrubbing holes in my mind. Mushroom death breathes stagnant blood, mushroom death is the blood thickening in my veins into paste. Mushroom death is panic and doubt, mushroom death tells me that I have fucked up, that the room around me is fake, that I have committed some grave error and forgotten it. Mushroom death only comes to me when I am on psychedelics. I first felt mushroom death when I did mushrooms+25c+MDMA and I thought I was having a stroke. Mushroom death was not too malevolent at that point, merely evil, but has grown more and more evil. Mushroom death glares down on me, traps me with loops and drives me to madness. Mushroom death wants me to kill myself.
ďMental IllnessĒ- ďMental IllnessĒ is deformed, tangled pallid flesh, the orifices strikingly blood red. ďMental illnessĒ is a heavy breather, has many teeth, it is perpetually afraid yet violent. ďMental illnessĒ is not malevolent, ďMental illnessĒ has no mind or consciousness, it is a creature. It is a parasite that feeds off of my internal conflict, its awful sinewy body unravelling from the battle between narcissism and self-loathing, feasting on thoughts of suicide and paranoia. It drives these thoughts and feeds off of them, using my mind like a farm. ďMental illnessĒ merely wants to exist, like any creature. ďMental illnessĒ exists at all times, a pulsing mass of stinking corpse flesh, though it becomes most apparent while I am on psychedelics. ďMental illnessĒ will feed on me for the rest of my life. It cannot be killed.
As I was coming down I played videogames with a friend for like 5 hours. When I opened my laptop again I found an opened word doc I donít even remember writing titled ďhow do I feel todayĒ. It said:
'Todays trip felt like having my head dunked under water and someone held it down
I saw the same scene outside my window across a large span of time--- trapped in an illusion/trick room?? Room exhibited strange propertiesÖ.. stil visuals as helck wobbly too
It felt more like a mushroom trip
How associations bounced off of one another, I grew confidence in my ability to predict my own actions
Every thought would generate a tangible copy, and I was the arbiter of whether to play on the tangibiligy of each thought-
A constant struggle, having to tackle thoughts one at a time to decide their obejective truth and whether to discard them or account them based on that
I saw the same septa bus outside my window after a seemingly long span
Time was looping there was a lot of looping
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