Citation: crake. "Paranoid Schizophrenia: An Experience with 2C-E (exp46907)". Erowid.org. Dec 8, 2005. erowid.org/exp/46907
I orally ingest a liquid vial of what I believe to be 20mg of 2C-E dissolved in water. The solution tastes of water that has been left in a plastic cup too long; I suspect this may be due to the inside lid of the vial. The 'chemical' taste is not overwhelming, nor particularily foul. I hold the solution in my mouth for approx. four minutes before swallowing.
I begin to feel that something is different in my periferal consciousness. No overt visual efects are noticed, nor are any CEV's apparent at this moment in time. I feel strange, not unlike the first signs of coming up on 2C-I. That I notice anything at all so early into the trip is a source of some anxiety; I'd been told effects should not come until approx. 90 minutes into the trip. This is a fault of my poor research; I'd somehow mistaken this information with another chemical.
If anything I am at this point slightly dioriented and worried about how quickly I am coming up. I try to relax, telling myself that there is no going back now, and if things get ugly I'll just have to ride it out. This is a source of limited comfort. Minor visual hallucinations are occuring in my peripheral vision. Again, this is not unlike my previous trips on 2C-I. Shadows and quick moving objects scurrying around the corners of my eyes. Its important to note I am sitting in class, listening to me teacher rattle on exceitedly about quantum mechanics and electron orbitals. His behaviour seems to me overly excited and ridiculous. I begin to suspect he knows I am coming up on something, but this idea itself seems even more absurd. Paranoia begins to set in.
I leave the class, claiming to be ill. In some respect this must be true. Outside I run into a friend and enjoy a cigarette. People and objects are beginning to trail; my eyes are hypersensitive to the sunlight, though my pupils are not overly dilated. I've little to no jaw tension, nor eye shakes. I begin to have difficulty entertaining conversations, and likewise regret social situations I find myself in. I fear that this trip is coming too strong; it's a feeling similar to having too much 2C-I (for me, the cut off dose is around 40mg). I am extremely focused and preoccupied with the idea that I am moving up ethereal levels on some psychedelic gradient. It is difficult to judge how intoxicated I actually am. When this occurs, the fact that I am tripping sneaks up on me and suddenly I am siezed. This is at once both frightening and exhilarating.
I catch a city bus with intent to go home. I feel sort of tired despite what is running through my brain right now. On the bus visual hallucinations become more vivid. Colours and patterns start to merge and blend together. People give off trails and passing cars are somewhat a source of alarm in a vaguely dissociative way. It is difficult to become comfortable, and I have trouble shifting in my seat to readjust my postion. I am somewhat paranoid as to the other passengers, and I've little desire to appear as a creepy substance abuser. Though I do not often consider myself as such, it seems to be a fairly real and explicit truth in my microcosm.
Now off the bus I try to relax and sit in a park. I watch the cars in the street and the shapes the clouds make. My eyes are irritated by the brightness, and I am unsure of whether I feel too hot, or too cold. The park becomes a source of anxiety as I believe I must appear severly out of place. These insecurities and anxious impulses are not uncommon for me on psychedelics, but in this case they are probably unwarranted and definitly too extreme. As I am close to my home, I venture towards bed and dim lighting. I wonder if I will have trouble crossing the road as its often fairly busy, and I am aware of my complete lack of depther perception. I find this effect tolerable, but unerving as I am used to have better than average vision.
I spend some ten minutes pretending to wait for a bus as I wait for the traffic to subside. Eventually the luck of two red lights allow me a few seconds to jump across the street. I am in a minute home, and after letting my father know I am ill, retire to me my room. I climb into bed still fully clothed, and it is only when he comes to check on me, and suggests I undress if I serisouly wish to sleep, that I change into pyjammas. My room is disorienting and alien. I've trouble staying still and trouble navigating the hidious mess of blankets and sheets on top of me. I lay on my back, trying to cool down, watching the ceiling unfold into sinister shapes and indistinguishable patterns. I feel very hot, very over-heated.
I am decisivly peaking because Ive come to the highest level of delusion and paranoid anxiety I've ever met. I think to myself over and over again that I am irreperably insane; this drug induced psychosis will not subside. My thoughts are fevered and vague...I believe that I am narcing myself...a reference from A scanner darkly..I believe that I am in a very violent, very drawn out struggle to to establish my ego at this point. The anti-twin personas are both vague and immaculate...I have very little understanding of which is which, and of what qualities each possesses..I am never at any one point in time sure of which I am. I have, at this point, little to know conception of reality. My universe is a four walled prison housing a tempest of delusion, short-term memory loss and despair.
What bothers me most is a noise that seems to randomly repeat itself in my head, and causes a great deal of mental and physical pain. It first starts as the empty static of a television and quickly crescendos to a tearing, grinding screech that gives my the impression of my mind being torn inside out through a very jagged hourglass. Pain creeps in my ears and meets somewhere in the centre of my brain. It causes convulsions. I am physically too incapacitated to go to the ER. On a mental and emotional level this is no less true, but I somehow decide they could little but sedate me. Probably, the average doctor knows relatively little, that is to say nothing, about 2C compounds. I wouldnt want to answer the questions afterwards anyways.
The painful noise of dead channels being filtered trhough my conscious mind has not yet subsided. I've both a very tired, sore body and a very sore head. I wonder if I am dehydrated and decide I am, and then decide to do nothing about it, because I dont think I can really make it out of my bed alive. I would have to figure out who I am, and where I am, and what's going on first. It takes me a great deal of concentration (and in the process increased static ugliness) to recall these details about myself.
'Just wait it out,' I think.
'What kind of person would willingly ingest this?' a voice in head calls out...over and fucking over agiain.
I am terribly, terribly lonely. I wish my girlfriend were here to hold me, and I wish my best friend were here to be my sober-buddy. I am not sure they could do anything. I lapse in and out of very vivid dreams. Some sort of bar and nightclub that houses scorpion fights, and strange drinks with stranger art. The setting itself might be some sort of gallery. The dreams themselves are tense with tense social dynamics; I worry about my relationships with various characters, and I carry a feeling of fearful anxiety. Still. Scorpions are bubbling red on their shiny black backs...I hold my head above their tails...I've the impression, if poisoned, that I will die.
I wake the paralyzing noise around and inside me. I am able to focus my eyes but unable to tell if I am still hallucinating. I try to concentrate on my hands, but I foget what skin looks like. My eyes shift to books piled in the conrners of my room. The texts bubble and merge into each other. The effect is a visual amalgam of colour, lights and lines organically interwoven into a sickening beautiful mess.
Im very shaken by whats just happens to me, but I am conscious again of who I am and what everything is. It's dark outside now, but my eyes feel as though the light is brighter, so I imagine they must be very, very sore. They are.
About this time I fall asleep. I wake several times during the night, drink several glass of water. Good old water. I am relieved to find that I am not clinically insane.
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