Citation: Ali K. "Ketafiend: An Experience with Ketamine (exp15640)". Erowid.org. Jul 2, 2002. erowid.org/exp/15640
I had tried ketamine on numerous occasions over the course of a year, and whilst I often experienced things no less than incredible, the body load was normally too great for me - I found that if I swallowed the drip, I would indefinitely be reaching for the bathroom sink. My best friend who was living with me at the time, also joined me often. However, when he decided that he would do no more, I too stopped - I had no desire to take more. However, on a trip to an island for a psychadelic trance festival, I once again encountered it, having not taken any for several months. This time it was different - not unlikely due to the beautiful setting. Sitting on the ground in the middle of forest by a beach, I was gently lifted into a euphoric, dream-like state. It goes without saying that on my return to england, I quickly acquired a large amount with some of my closest friends; there in my friend's house, the five of us snorted our biggest ever lines (at that time my tolerance was still low, so not more than 1/5 of a gram!), and what ensued can only be described as a collective warp experience.
We went somewhere together, a strange and wonderful place, and we warped through time and space for 40 minutes before re-entering the solar system. A particularly excellent cd (psy-trance) had been working its way through a journey, and was reaching it's climax - and as it did, we all managed to stand and dance (though any ketafiends will know what kind of dance it was!). As the k wore off, we were left with a euphoria - heightened by the music playing - and we danced until the end of the cd. This was by far my best experience to date, and only served to deepen my hunger for k. I was due to start college in september of 2001 to retake an a-level that suffered due to other experimentation the previous year, and my friends were not joining. However, this was no problem as college was 10 minutes walk from home, in central london. I had the apartment to myself for some 16 days, and in that time, I consumed more k than I would have thought humanly possible. I had a bunch of friends over at my house most of the time, and I became obsessed; if I had college, I would count the minutes till it was over and I could return to my friends, and the bottle of k, and if I didn't, we would start work as soon as we awoke. Evaporate off the solvent (in a pan because it's quicker), cut it up finely, and throw it on my black, polished-slate kitchen table.
Over the course of the day, 4 or so of us would finish off at least 5 or 6 grams - by this time, my tolerance had rocketed, and I was taking no less than 1/2 a gram in a line. The peak was scraping foot long lines, 3-4 mm wide, and having a race to finish it - if you passed out, you could pick up where you left off. But this was just the weekdays; on weekends, I would cook up 10 grams or so, and, being short of time, fill a tube I had with it and off to a trance party. I always planned on selling at least 8 of the 10, but from 11pm to 8am I never really knew what was happening.
To start with, it was incredible - I would stand on the dance floor and watch as the room metamorphosised into different worlds (it was a truly psychadelic experience, of the most enjoyable kind I have encountered - better than acid, shrooms, mescaline, LSA, salvia...etc). But after a couple of months, it became ordinary. But in the ever-ongoing quest to reach the wondrous feelings that accompanied my earlier journeys, I would keep at it, hoping that if I took more, it might bring me back to that place. After a while, I couldn't remember any of what I was doing whilst under the influence; I would snort, and then 30 minutes later I would wonder why nothing had happened, and I would snort again - but people would say I had been doing all kinds of strange things. I would even emerge from blankness to find myself being led around the club to find someone who knew me so they could look after me. Look after me? Why do I need someone to look after me?
Disenchanted with the loss of effect, and the rare occurrence of serious nose bleeds, I followed the seeming-wise advice of something I'm sure I read somewhere - 'Ketamine is not a psychadelic unless injected' - I obtained some syringes and needles. I decided that I would just try at home, and at night, and only use one arm, so that if there was damage, it would be limited to the one. I started with 2ml IM - the effect was staggeringly different, and perfect for bed-time (I couldn't sleep without something). So for a few nights (a week maybe), I would say goodnight to my mother, and retire to bed with some ambient music and an IM dose of k. Fairly soon, my arm began to feel sore, and it hurt too much to put the needle in - so why not use the fresh arm? And so it continued, rising to 3ml, and occasionally 4; still, everyday I would wake up at 8am if I had college, get a large coffee on my way there, and just about appease the teacher.
Some friends expressed concern, especially after my own club night where I had snorted some k and then bought some acid without knowing it, eaten it, and then wondered why I couldn't mix, and was finding it hard to stand. I was awake on the acid until 10am, when I went to a friends house, with a bottle of k and some syringes. I understood the concern, but ignored it. So eventually, I realised that things were not quite as they should be - arm pain aside - but my will was not present. But, call it what you will, intervention from unseen forces...etc - one sunday night, I call my mother to ask when she is coming back, and she says 30 minutes. Brush the teeth, get shit togther for the morning's lesson, and have your daily dose; only, perhaps due to the 2 grams insufflated over the course of the evening, my usual 4ml obviously overdid it. Mother comes home, finds my door open, lights on, miles davis playing kind of blue, and her son frozen on the corner of his bed, with a blank look in his eyes, a box with ketamine powder and weed open on the table, a bottle of k beside it, and a needle on his lap. Nice one... When I emerge from my chrysalis state, I feel that something is not quite right - my things are all messed up, the bottle of k is gone (so is the box and the needles), the light is on, and there is a lot of movement in the corridor outside my room.
Next thing I know, my dad enters (my parents are divorced), says get changed. Then a paramedic comes in to escort me to the ambulance. Why do I need to get in a fucking ambulance? I already know the answer, and it is making my heart stop, but I don't argue, and follow the paramedic. On the way to the hospital, one of them asks: 'So, what have you been doing to yourself, eh?'
'Ketamine?! Isn't that a horse tranquilizer?' he says mockingly.
'Well, do you feel like a horse?' he says.
I glare at him and then blank him for the rest of the ride - what kind of fucking medical service is that? Anyway, I discharge myself promptly, convince everyone that the syringe was just for measuring amounts - have to let slip that I sell it - and that I only snorted. Parents don't know what to think, but do what any good parent would, and try to be helpful. T
To cut a long story short, I slyly continued snorting myself to sleep for a week until I exhausted my reserves, and then resolved to quit. Finished college, got an A in my chemistry retake, and am presently on my gap year. There a few days that pass without me giving a few seconds thought to a shot of k - the curse of indulging in such behaviour...
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