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Walking Straight Into Psychosis
by Anthony J.
Citation:   Anthony J.. "Walking Straight Into Psychosis: An Experience with DXM (exp55667)". Apr 28, 2008.

  oral DXM (daily)


It was a normal night in March 2005 when some guy I've only met once in my life offered me a 'Trip' for $5. Being one who enjoys his hallucinogens, I decided to give it a go. I was stationed in my best friend's apartment and had no immediate expectations but kept an open mind to the situational outcomes a trip may lead to. I sat that night, on 240 mg of DXM, waiting for its effects while simply watching some tv. About an hour later I started to notice that I felt a bit light-headed. It was a sort of stoned feeling. I decide it would be best at this point to head home.

[Erowid Note: Driving while intoxicated, tripping, or extremely sleep deprived is dangerous and irresponsible because it endangers other people. Don't do it!]

I drove back to my house safely and walked into my basement bedroom. I noticed then that I was feeling 'up in the clouds.' Better described as a floating type feeling, as if I were dropping down the top of a hill in a roller coaster. My thoughts lingered on the incredible possibilities of such a drug. All I was thinking about was finding out what it was I had consumed and to immediately procure more of it. The next night I asked my best friend, who also happens to work at a pharmacy, what I was given. He said, 'It's just robitussin in pill form. You got ripped off. You can get way more if you just go to the store and buy them.' I was ecstatic. I couldn't believe that such a thing was sold in stores all over the world AND I didn't need to call ahead of time to pick it up. It seemed too good to be true. And thusly I ran headlong into the best AND worst year that I have EVER experienced.

As everything started I was taking a meager 300 mg every night after work. I then came online to check up on the dangers I may face. After reading through the entire DXM FAQ several times I thought I was going to be just fine. So I read about the plateaus that can be reached by using higher dosages. I took 600 mg one night at my friends apartment and started to experience an otherwordly feeling that left me staring at things as I mildly hallucinated. My thoughts were sporadic but I knew two things at that point, 1. My friends are getting sick of me tripping around them (I was the only one I knew of who took it), and, 2. I HAD to get back home before I started tripping too hard. So I took off driving back to my house, which was, by the way 4 minutes up the road, and pulled out of the apartment complex as it dawned on me that the road was either way too big or way too small. Being paranoid and unable to stay in one lane I unknowingly pulled out right in front of a cop. As it dawned on me, it also dawned on him, I had no reason to be driving in that condition. I got pulled over and was terrified so badly I just stopped driving and parked the car right in the middle of the two lane street. He got out and told me to pull off to the side off the road.

I didn't know before but I knew now, I could not speak at all. Nothing would come out. I was asked to step out of the car and almost fell over. I felt drunk, stoned, confused, and terrified all at once. He searched me, or more adaquately put, asked what I had in my pocket. I plopped my first and favorite bowl into his hand along with a small bud of marijuana. He said to me, 'We can't do anything about the robitussin in your car but as of now we're placing you under arrest for the possession of marijuana.' I nodded and got compliantly into the car. As I sat in the car I had no idea what was going on. It was like watching a movie with somebody else's eyes. Long story short, I got a one-year ACD [Editor's Note: presumably 'Adjourned in Contemplation of Dismissal'] and considered it a minor bump in the road. Looking back, it was like climbing 1 stair, in comparison to the mountain of trouble I had yet to ascend. This arrest occurred in April 18, 2005, 1 month after I discovered DXM.

Moving to May 20th, 2005. Things had been pretty constant. I continued dosing 600 mg a night since the arrest and had no problems. I just made sure to get home BEFORE I started tripping. On this day however, I decide it was time to up the ante. I wanted to experience these higher plateaus. The 3rd and more preferably, the 4th and final plateau before death or a coma. So I got out of work that day and took 900 mg at 2 in the afternoon. I planned on going home and simply watching tv or playing some games. Instead I went home and told my younger sister that I had never ingested such a high dose and that I felt extremely weird. She had tried it with me before and enjoyed it but she was quite concerned when I informed her of what was going on around me. I remember coming into my mom's room and laying on her bed on my back before I told my sister, who was on the computer, of my dosage. I suddenly noticed the bed curling around me in a giant U type curve. I told her this and stated that I was just going to sleep. I got up and walked down the hall into my sister's room and just passed out in her bed. I don't know why I didn't walk to my room but I assume it had something to do with not wanting to walk down 2 flights of stairs. Plus her bed had this foamy thing on it so it was more comfortable anyways.

I dreamt of indescribable shaman-esque things. I was awoken to my mom asking me if I was ok. I told her I was just trying to sleep but she claims 'my eyes were rolling into my head.' I claim that she was a dumbass for not remembering that waking any person, even one not using drugs, results in a droopy eyed stupor. So she left and I went back to sleep. I then realized I had to pee. I went to the bathroom and stood there for a few minutes trying to force out my stubborn urine. For some reason DXM makes urinating an incredibly challenging endeavor as it often involves standing up and stumbling to the bathroom. Once I get there it just doesn't want to come out. I almost need to go into a relaxed meditated state to accomplish this otherwise simple task. As I stand there someone knocks on the door. I state aloud that I'm peeing yet the door opens anyway. Before I can say, 'What the fuck, are you deaf?,' I realize it's a paramedic. I look out the window and see 2 cop cars and an ambulance. I'm no longer in a state of enlightened delirium. I'm now on a mission to maintain a precisely focused rage at anyone who dares come near me. The paramedic says, 'You're coming with us.' I blurt out with cocky attitude, 'No. I'm NOT. You're going to get the hell out of my house right now and I'm going to take a piss and go back to sleep.'

I'm then informed that I WILL be taken out of the house whether they have to pull me out or not. They had some fun getting me out I'll tell you that much. Turns out my know nothing about the drug I researched for hours mom thought I overdosed. I knew I took 1/3 of that but it made no difference. I spent 4 days in the psyche ward being treated like an animal. No big deal to me though. I knew now that 900 mg was all I'd EVER need to take to go on a mind blowing journey of epic proportions.

Fast forward to November 28th, 2005. I had moved up into the country with my dad after my mom threw me out because apparently I was bothering her tremendously as I sat quietly in my room with a black light on while I listened to Pink Floyd in my headphones at 2 in the morning while everyone else slept. Living in the country now I felt more at peace and closer to nature than ever before. I no longer used DXM 'just to get high.' I now used it as a doorway for self exploration and creative thought processing. I wrote poetry and had deep discussions with my friend from the apartment about universal theories. I felt very whole and confident with my mind and body. However, all was not as good as it seemed to me. I continued to use 900 mg daily up to this point and I had not yet realized that my mindset makeover was starting to completely alienate me from every single person I held dear to me. Even my best friend was getting increasingly annoyed with my theories. I then got to this point where I was at all times in plateau sigma. Otherwise known as being completely insane to any and all people that hear you speak what's on your mind. At this point I was very likely to get into trouble.

On November 28th, 2005, I had previously spent a night tripping with a friend who was very reluctant to try DXM in the first place. Instead of having a pleasant trip with him, I scared the shit out of him. I spent the night throwing all of the stuff at him that I wouldn't dare say to a sober person, EVER. When he left that day he ran to his truck as I was held back from going after him by my dad who was also scared and confused as to what the hell was going on. At that VERY moment I totally lost my mind. I snapped. I ran around the yard screaming at the sky, 'Souls come unto me!' At the exact second that last word came out a siren went off far in the distance as if to signal a bomb strike or something of that sort. I could only think that I had finally figured out the secrets of the universe and the CIA was sending agents to silence me forever. I ran into the house and poured water all over my shirt and immediately ran back outside through the other door. I told my idle father to call the cops, there was some crazy shit that was about to happen. I then ripped off my shoes and socks and fell in the mud. I pulled my shirt off and started putting mud down my pants. I had fell completely into the grip of psychosis. I WAS the definition of insanity.

I ran towards the first cop car that had responded to the call and swung a punch at him. I missed and got cuffed after I pushed him away. I was up against the cop car and my mind was racing so fast that not a single word could get through. I no longer had the ability to think, I could only act. I had no idea what was going on and screamed as loud as I could into the sky. Just a long, shrieking, piercing, terrified, psychotic scream. As my father spoke to the cop I knew what they were going to say before they could say it. I even started making up what I wanted them to say and they did. I then, without speaking, told the cop with my mind to uncuff me and I'm pretty sure he did. I told him I was the second coming of christ in my head and he had to obey me. I then got cuffed again and more emergency crew members arrived. I then warped the space-time continuum and simply dropped the cuffs from my wrists. I knew that I was to be taken away and had them put back on. The emergency response crews kept changing on my whim. Their entire bodies, faces, and personalities were created as I decided them to be. If I didn't like what I made I would change them. They literally morphed in front of my eyes as if they were all agents from the Matrix or T-1000 from Terminator 2.

Part of me to this day believes that not all of what I just wrote was a delusion. The research done on DXM is pathetic as we currently have no explanation for why the above events may have been possible. Hell, the whole premise of the Matrix films doesn't sound that unreasonable. So hopefully we figure out the rest of our brain's capabilities before we go extinct. Anyway after that dilemma I spent 14 days in the psyche ward. I was again given no human rights and treated like a animal.

New Years Eve 2005. Put in the psyche ward for 12 days after informing my friend not to slit her wrists. My stupid step-mom was blatantly eavesdropping and told crisis services I was trying to kill myself. Again treated animalisticly. I had been tripping every day after I got out of the Psyche Ward prior to this visit so I was still acting strange but not suicidal.

February 18th-20th, 2006. My father had become sick of the never ending tripping and theorizing. I was put into a motel room paid for by him just to get me out of his house. Fine I thought. I went out and got huge amounts of DXM from every store in the area. I was hanging out with an old friend and letting him use my car because I knew that was the only way he'd tolerate me. So I got him to trip with me and he ended up getting scared and paranoid. He got sick and had an overall bad time. I just kept tripping. On the last day I was there I lost count of my dosage and ended up taking about 1,400 mg after I had been tripping for 2 months. In other words, I was again in a state of psychosis, only this time it got bloody. I was blabbing on and on to a couple friends at the motel room about moving to L.A. tomorrow and being an actor. At this time I had been listening to Pink Floyd constantly and watching Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas every night. I idolized Johnny Depp for his role in the film and wanted to be like Hunter S Thompson, the actual person Depp represented.

Suddenly I decided it was time to rip out my uvula, that thing hanging in the back of your throat. I went into the bathroom and had no feeling at all in my entire body so tugging at my uvula didn't gag me or bother me at all. I thought it had to be done. I started bleeding profusely from the back of my throat and when my friends saw this, they took my keys and left. When I realized they were gone I called my friend and told him to get back with my car immediately. He told me it broke down. I said that was bullshit and I want him back now. I then went to bed and awoke at 10 the next morning. My car was still gone and I wanted it back. I thought I was done tripping and I went to talk to the manager. Bad idea. Turns out I was so fucked up I told him I was a demon. He called the cops on me. When they got there the female officer said to me, 'Where is your ID.' I said, 'It's in my room. I have some marijuana in my room. I am the Devil, I am also God, come do drugs with me but don't tell the cops, they'll arrest you.' Just take a moment to think about that statement. I actually said that with a straight face. I was dead serious and I believed it.

Let's just say I got maced, punched in the face 6 times, and ended up with charges involving possession of marijuana, resisting arrest, harassment in the 2nd degree, obstruction of governmental administration and a bonus treat. Someone in the room before me left a crack stem that I got charged with. I've never touched that shit in my life. Oh well they didn't believe me. In jail that night I managed to get maced again after flooding my cell with water by clogging the sink, punched in the lip twice for throwing a juice box at a cops face and punched in the head by some guy who was talking shit to me. He punched me after I smiled at him and told him he better warn his mother to lock her door because I know where she lives, which I didn't.

I then spent 2 months in jail waiting to be told that I was going to spend 3 months in rehab. I completed the rehab and I now hope to be out of drug court as soon as possible. So the moral of the story is: Don't be a goddamn dumbass. Trip on OCCASION, not every single day. Moderation is the key to avoid habitual use and consequences that include all of the above and more.

Keep tripping every day and I will soon realize that everyone I loved now thinks I'm weird and I WILL go crazy at one point or another and I will have no control over myself during these periods.

Exp Year: 2006ExpID: 55667
Gender: Male 
Age at time of experience: Not Given 
Published: Apr 28, 2008Views: 31,853
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DXM (22) : Retrospective / Summary (11), Train Wrecks & Trip Disasters (7), Addiction & Habituation (10), Various (28)

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Experience Reports are the writings and opinions of the individual authors who submit them.
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