Citation: Monokleitos. "How I Learned to Stop Hating: An Experience with 4-HO-MET (exp108844)". Erowid.org. Jul 31, 2016. erowid.org/exp/108844
May 15-16, 2015:
It wasn’t during the most pleasant period of my life but I was grateful enough for what I had. I was still racked with far too much anxiety, self-doubt, guilt, and sadness, but things were much better than they had been in my teens. All-in-all, 2014 and the beginning of 2015 were comparatively great years in so many ways. I won’t get into specifics regarding that, but let me just say that you shouldn’t compare yourself to anyone else, and that you should strive to know oneself. As I entered my twenties I found that I felt a stronger sense of who I was. I felt like a human.
Allow me to backtrack just a bit. I was working at fast-food at the time and attending a community college, and despite my distaste of both places I was content enough. I had the respect and friendship of my workmates, and I was enjoying school in ways I never had. I had just taken my finals for all of my classes too, so the relief of the summer was doing much to improve my mood.
It was a good semester, but admittedly I had still fallen into my old, bad habits. Though I knew I passed all my classes I didn’t think I did very well overall. Procrastination, not always paying attention, lack of studying... Should I have been surprised if I got mostly (meaning two) C’s? To be fair, I was working 40 plus hours a week, but still, I wasn’t working as hard as I could/should have. I won’t make any more excuses though, and I ultimately rescind my half-hearted explanation.
I had talked to a co-worker (Mike) about my interest in psychedelics in the past, and that was a good idea. Mike came up to me one day and told me that the new guy, a twitchy, frail, and curly headed fuck no older than 16, turned out to have access to shrooms. I had introduced myself to Chris previously, the new guy, but somehow I never got around to talking about drugs. Basically, it was a surprise. I then had a conversation with him and found out his friend is growing shrooms, but unfortunately they still needed to grow a bit. He then offered me an alternative, something called 4-HO-MET. Never heard of it. Chris described it as having “the body high of shrooms, coupled with the literal insanity of LSD.” Sounded good to me, especially since I had never experimented with psychedelics before and was eager to try anything. Very foolish in hindsight, not that any bad came of it.
We exchanged numbers and he told me to meet him in front of his place after work. I did. When he handed me the capsule in the passenger side of my car he told me the duration of the drug’s effects and the dosage. I don’t recall the dosage unfortunately but I do know that it lasts up to 6 hours. Also, he said the first one is free. The Spartans might’ve tossed you into a pit at the foot of Mount Taygetus at birth, but I for one am glad nothing like that ever happened.
I had planned to take it around 8 or 9 pm on what was a pleasant Sunday off. I had just watched Avengers: Age of Ultron at the theater with my oldest friend (we’ll call him C) that evening (s’alright) before getting something to eat. It was at the restaurant that I told him about my interest in psychedelics, and that I was probably going to take some that night. When I got home I went to my room and prepared things. My Mum was out and I told my Da that I would be turning in for the night. I didn’t know what to expect from the drug (other than what little I read about it online) so I figured it’d be best if I locked myself in my room, giving off the impression that I was asleep. I then took it around nine and waited.
About 45 minutes later I started to feel a slight body high, and was hoping there’d be a lot more to the experience. About thirty minutes later I was moving around like crazy. My hands were shaking and I couldn’t stop smiling. I barged into my younger brother’s room and started rambling at him, but he couldn’t have been lest interested and I soon left. I then laid down in my bed as I was having trouble standing. My mind was then flooded with images. Pardonnez le cliché, but suffice to say, my life flashed before my eyes that day. I saw bits of my life sped-up and in chronological order, slowing briefly for me so that I could ponder the peaks and valleys. I often used to think that it would be nice to have the entirety of your life recorded so that you can review it anytime, for whatever reasons. What did I think memory was? I reflect. Anyway, the point is that my take on my life was that it was pretty good, and that life is good. I consider that an understatement. Life and quality of life are two distinct subjects though, but I won’t get into that right now. I will impart this however, that one only needs to properly justify bringing a life into this world, and that one can never truly justify the removing of a life. I feel like I’m getting off track here.
I judged myself that night and I was not found wanting. Not only was I happy with my life so far, but I could see that I was on a clear and steady upward trajectory into better things, and that strengthened my resolve to such a degree that I still find inspiration from it. That assuredness, though admittedly from a questionable source, was all I really needed to… Move on, I suppose. Almost a year later I see how far I’ve come and realize that my determination was well formed. I had seldom experienced such peace (of mind) at that point in time and I am forever grateful for the circumstances that brought me there.
Regarding my reaction to music on the drug, I had listened to Pet Sounds and The Smile Sessions and was reduced to jelly in my bed. I couldn’t quite comprehend what I was hearing but at the same time it never made more sense to me. I had listened to Kind of Blue by Miles Davis and I concluded that it is perfect, and it is. My eyes misted when I listened to Joanna Newsom’s cover of “Three Little Babes”; I don’t even think I cared about that song before then. I listened to Prokofiev based on the recommendation of a Stranger who I had chatted with that night (a sheltered and humble New Zealander interested in the Military.) I thanked him.
I had received a text from my oldest friend (C) later on during the trip. He said he felt the need to warn me about psychedelics and sent me links regarding the dangers. It hit me like a bolt of lightning and I stared at his text for a while before I could respond. I almost felt betrayed as he made no indication of his real thoughts when we were talking at the restaurant. I’m not proud of what I did (because I don’t like to lie to friends), but I told him that I wasn’t serious, only curious. I told him I appreciated the concern and that after having read through the articles he sent me I was no longer even considering doing any psychedelics. After I diminished his fears we had a long and very good conversation.
I received a text from my brother that night asking me if I had heard of a band. I told him I had, and then asked if he had heard of a group called I’m Tripping Balls Holy Fucking Shit. He was worried for a bit, but we too had a very good and hilarious conversation after I placated him.
Near the end of my trip I remembered that my grades would probably be posted, and so I checked online. I had, by the skin of my teeth, made two Bs and an A. I remember pumping my fists in the air and laughing because I didn’t end up making any C’s. Thank the gods for minor victories. It capped off a pretty good night, although it quite didn’t end there. Even after the drug wore off I felt way too wired to sleep, and it ended up being a 36 hour day for me. It was a miserable Monday but I did not regret anything. This was the first trip I ever took, but far from the last.
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