Citation: Squirel. "'This Isn't Right': An Experience with DXM & DiPT (exp12472)". Erowid.org. Nov 3, 2004. erowid.org/exp/12472
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My friend had just gotten a house sitting job, and we got our hands on some DXM and DIPT. Both me and my friend had never taken DXM or DIPT before. I've had a lot of experience tripping, but I'd never taken any dissociatives before. My friend lets call her Chigz, had never tripped nor had taken dissociatives. So we called a friend who knows a lot about DXM to 'babysit' us. Because we didn't know too much about it. I'd robo-tripped before, but never this dose.
We took the DIPT first, having no plans on taking the DXM tonight. It was around 11pm. We waited for about 45 minutes, but all we got was a slight body buzz. Chigz thought nothing was going to happen, so she took the DXM. I just said what the hell and took it too. Our 'babysitter,' Hickface showed up, and we told him we took both DXM and DIPT together. He said it was an interesting combination. Chigz went and layed down on the couch, and I just stared at the fire. Things started to happen. It felt like I was starting to trip a little. So I went and sat with Chigz and Hickface on the couch. Everything was good, we were okay. And then, the DXM hit me. It felt like my cells were shutting down. 'Hickface, there is something really wrong.' I said. They looked at me like I was crazy. I got up and started running around the house frantically. But running felt like I was constantly on an angle, walking sideways. Then my blood started to boil. I came out into the living room, screaming, and crying as they tell me. I told him that I was dying, and that I needed medical attention. He asked what was wrong, but all I could say was that I was dying.
Now I'm sure that by now, Chigz was freaked out because of me, and she went into the master bedroom to lay down. I thought it would be a good idea if I layed down too. I asked Hickface to come and watch me sleep so I didn't die. This was about the time that I started to see film reels on the sides of my vision. I climbed up to my bunkbed, and layed down. Then I think my body was going into convulsions, or something. It was like when people are strapped down to beds and they go crazy trying to get free. But I was trying to get free of my body. Hickface just looked at me. I don't remember him talking to me much, but I remember me thinking that he was against me, and he planned us taking these drugs and that we were going to die. The heat was at its peak right then. It felt like I was going to internally combust. I was screaming like I were in the loony bin. I asked for a wet washcloth and lay there for a while, still wiggling around.
Then all of a sudden, I leaped off the bunk bed, on to the floor, and started to try to swim through the carpet. Hickface watched me for a while, got me up, and tried to get me to do some breathing exercises. Just breathing in and out, moving in a peculiar way. I don't really remember. It helped a lot at the time. Then after that I think I just went and layed down on the couch, and stayed there for the rest of the night. During this period of time I just stared at the ceiling, but my body was not in order. I would always yell to Hickface (and he was always sitting right next to me) asking him if I was okay, and that I wasn't dead. And every time he would just repeat 'yes, you're okay.' All the lights were off, there was no music, and it was me and two other people. But, in my condition, there was blaring music, disco lights, and we were having a rager. Physically, my body felt like a picasso painting. All jumbled, spread around the room. And still boiling. Mentally I was thinking about how I'd never come out of this, I'd be like this for the rest of my life, and how my parents would be so sad and dissapointed in me, I almost cried sometimes.
The whole time my body was enflamed, but I was cuddled up under a blanket. Hickface sat next to me the whole time because I just didn't want to be alone. If I was alone, I could've died without anyone there, and no one would know I was dead to take me to the hospital. He tried to turn the television on at one time, but it felt like I was being hit by shrapnel by its loud sounds and light. It was insane. Honestly it felt like I was dead, but my mind was alive, torturing me for taking me these drugs I've mixed. From time to time I would sit up, and look over at the christmas tree, and the colors of the bulbs had 6 inch orbs around them. It scared me a lot. I have no idea why. It felt like I'd been laying there for days on end. Throughout the night, I kind of dozed in and out, always looking up at that damn christmas tree. I got some sleep I think from 5am to 9:30am. When I woke up, I was still the same, but much better mentally. I couldn't believe that I was alive. I finally got up and went into the master bedroom to see Chigz. And walking was something that took practice a couple times to get it right.
Chigz was awake, and had been all night. She had another crazy time. We both had similiar experiences. We both saw the film reels, we both asked for wet washcloths at the same time, and we both felt like we were dead. It was definitely an experience that both of us lost our minds, and that part of our minds will never come back.
For a couple of days after, we had problems with being around a lot of people and avoided going into town. It took me a couple of days to stop running into walls.
I'm suggesting that you don't mix dissociatives with tryptamines, because it just feels like you're dying. Or it did to me and Chigz. Just be careful. And always be careful when mixing weird ass drugs like these.
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