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Life-Ruining Disaster
Citation:   exempt. "Life-Ruining Disaster: An Experience with 3-MeO-PCP (exp114331)". Apr 30, 2020.

  repeated insufflated 3-MeO-PCP
[Erowid Note: Two samples of powder (even of the same chemical) with equivalent volumes won't necessarily weigh the same. For this reason, eyeballing is an inaccurate and potentially dangerous method of measuring, particularly for substances that are active in very small amounts. See this article on The Importance of Measured Doses.]
I never met a drug I couldn't handle, until the fateful night I made the horrible mistake of trying 3-meo-pcp.

I'd had a very extensive history of pushing every substance I could get my hands on to its absolute limit; I was thoroughly a severe and chronic drug abuser. "Fear and loathing" was what I aspired to and reveled in, and I was no stranger to the ever-evolving research chemical market. Dissociatives had always been my favorite, and they held a very dear place in my heart. Being the boundary-pusher that I was, hearing that 3-meo-pcp was profoundly potent excited me greatly; I had to try it!

I had a "friend" over that I didn't know very well - certainly not well enough to be trying PCP with for the first time. To further cement my foolishness, I had no scale, and merely made sure that our bumps were extremely tiny. Unfortunately they did not seem to be tiny enough.

It smelled and tasted like a mop bucket... like very potent floor cleaner or something similar. The chemical taste was probably the most intense I've ever come across.

To make a long story short, I basically blacked out, but was put into a very manic and energetic state, which was a very bad combo. It's difficult to recall and describe what all happened
It's difficult to recall and describe what all happened
next, but I must've come back to consciousness a few minutes later. I was living with my parents at the time, and somehow my mom was alerted to what was going on, and had come in trying to interact with my completely blasted and incoherent self. I just remember the world around me seeming to be in some sort of fast-forward mode, with reality happening at an unusually rapid pace. Apparently I repeatedly asked "What just happened?" For some reason, unlike most times I've been caught getting that fucked up, my mother didn't call 911 and have me put in the hospital. Sad, I know.

Oh, that guy I was with? During the chaos he stole my entire stash. But anyway, somehow, I did not learn my lesson. I thought "Well, I just took too much... I'll be more careful this time." So I immediately ordered more. Bad move.

It's really hard to say what all exactly happened next... I may have initially been much more careful with my dose, but I suspect I had delusions of sobriety and kept re-dosing my way into another manic blackout. This time, however, I would not avoid being involuntarily committed to the local ER.

While there, apparently I was extremely agitated and combative. I don't remember much, just flashes here and there, fleeting moments of lucidity and consciousness before slipping back into the void of the memory hole. I distinctly remember coming to to find myself completely strapped down to the hospital bed in total restraints. I felt the most intense and all pervasive fear and existential dread that I have ever felt in my entire life. The panic was absolutely all-encompassing, and I was horrified by the fact that it was impossible to escape the completely terrifying actuality of reality and my consciousness of it. That might not sound too terrible, but it's difficult to put into words partially because the fear was so irrational - there was no real reason for it, yet there it was. And being tied down, completely unable to move certainly didn't help matters whatsoever. I was trapped physically and mentally, and it was beyond horrific. Thankfully I don't remember a whole lot else from that night, but that level of terror will stay with me forever, I think - I can't "un-see" that now that it's been experienced. I've wondered if I may have developed some form of PTSD from the intensity of the experience... I'm certain I at least had such symptoms for a few weeks/months afterwards.

But wait, there's more!

During the hospital ordeal, apparently at some point while I was blacked out, a police officer was called in to deal with me, even though I was strapped to the bed. I don't know what happened or what he said to me, but apparently I spit right in his face. I was rewarded with one felony charge of malicious conduct by a prisoner... by the grace of God, I managed to get it dropped to a misdemeanor after like 2 years of going to court, but still, now I have a violent offense on my record I'm going to have to explain to employers for years. I'm still dumb-founded by my absolute stupidity, but hopefully this story can serve as a lesson or warning to others to be especially careful with this powerful substance.

Despite ALL this, months later while attempting to purchase another chemical, I was instead sent another gram of 3-meo. I should've flushed it, but what can I say? I was a horrible addict, and couldn't bear to waste perfectly good drugs like that. I was much more successful that time around with my usage, but still managed to get myself hospitalized quite a few more times. For a while, I became quite the regular there, and all the doctors and nurses really ended up hating me. During one of my stays, I became particularly upset and enraged, and in my anger and frustration, with stereotypical PCP intensity, I literally attempted to tear through one of the walls of the hospital room I was in. I used my fists and knees to tear a human-sized hole in the wall, and looking back, I still can't believe I was able to do such a thing so seemingly effortlessly.

Even when I was able to ingest it without having a black or freak out, it turned me into an absolute weirdo and pervert. My behavior would become incredibly bizarre, and I was always incredibly embarrassed to look back on how I acted. Total cringe fest.

Thankfully after still more trainwreck experiences, it finally sunk in to my thick skull that 3-meo-pcp is a downright "evil" drug, and it and I simply are not compatible whatsoever. These days, there's not anything that would ever make me consume any more of it.

For a good year or two after my experiences with it, I suffered from some pretty severe mental health difficulties, such as intense, frequent, un-relenting anxiety and some pretty paranoid thoughts/mild delusions that I consciously knew were false, but couldn't help but perceive as "real." I knew they were untrue and illogical, but still somehow made perfect sense to me in my head. It was quite unnerving. I had to go on quite a few psychiatric medications to get things somewhat under control, but now years later I'm finally starting to feel somewhat like myself again
now years later I'm finally starting to feel somewhat like myself again
. My cognition does seem to be quite impaired, however, and I don't feel nearly as sharp or quick-witted as I once was.

I'll probably never be completely normal again, to be honest, so please be careful with this one, however psychedelically experienced you think you are.

Exp Year: 2017ExpID: 114331
Gender: Not Specified 
Age at time of experience: 32
Published: Apr 30, 2020Views: 2,942
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3-MeO-PCP (558) : Not Applicable (38), Post Trip Problems (8), Overdose (29), Addiction & Habituation (10), Train Wrecks & Trip Disasters (7), Retrospective / Summary (11)

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