Citation: Ben. "Respect the Medicine: An Experience with LSD, 2C-I & Pharmahuasca (Syrian Rue & DMT) (exp29187)". Erowid.org. Dec 13, 2003. erowid.org/exp/29187
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Dont get me wrong, I have the deepest respect and appreciation for DMT. But as enlightened as I once thought I was, I have realised that there is a limit to my tolerance.
I had spent the last two months taking LSD twice weekly, and was in generally good spirits. I had also been working hard to deliver the good medicine to as many open hearts and equally open lungs as I could find, and felt that I must surely have stored up as much good karma as possible, and that therefore I should feel free to binge on drugs to my hearts content. I was to learn a big lesson.
Friday night involved the snorting of 12mg 2CI (sweet), followed later in the evening by 1 tab of LSD (yum). Also conned into snorting a line of good speed in appreciation for introducing a new friend to the Divine Medicinal Truth. Great fuckin night man
Saturday day. Beautiful concert in the park, sunny weather - well why not eat some more cardboard I thought. Chomp chomp. Sweeeet. Spotless hacky sack and dancing for hours.
Fellow DMT voyager, and good friend in town for the weekend. Dude, lets eat some DMT he says. I don't know, I said. But then the arrogant I have no limits mind overcame me and I thought 'Sure why not?'. It would be my first time.
30 minutes in, and the magic began. I began to melt into the now familiar peace of DMT land, but unlike ever before, the harmony collapsed into a fractured, separate, 'Oh no. What is happening to me!' like state of complete delusion. I had been sentenced to hell for toying with the natural balance of things, and for helping others do the same. My friend didn't feel so friendly anymore, and I was nearly certain I would spent the rest of my days rocking back and forth in a padded room for failing to acknowledge nor listen to Gods warnings. I pissed myself. My friend offered me a shower and some clothes. I was together enough to hear him, but couldn't see the point when existence was doomed to be forever full of suffering and it was somehow my fault.
I was much better two hours later, but didn't sleep properly for 4 days. Waking up into a fear ridden state of hellish can't sleepness, and having to hug my Dalai Lama book for comfort. And yet even his beautiful face seemed to be saying to me 'no point crying about it now fuckhead, you deserve this nightmare'.
6 days later and I am now feeling much more sane. And infinitely more humble. In future I will treat all drugs, and particularly DMT with the respect they deserve.
It is like this kiddies. DMT is a teacher. And like any good teacher, if you pay no attention, you will miss the lesson. I had reduced my physical and emotional energy to such a low that I was ill equipped to receive my lesson. And I payed dearly for it in confusion. Treat DMT with respect, and be patient. Take the time to absorb your lessons before cranking up the doses. There are no medals for the guy who can abuse the most drugs in a short period of time.
May all beings be free from suffering and find lasting happiness.
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