Citation: Abidan. "A Trifling Trip of the Devil's Own: An Experience with MDMA (exp56863)". Erowid.org. Oct 24, 2006. erowid.org/exp/56863
||(powder / crystals)
9:30- First pinky dip of Molly. I snorted half up my nose and licked the rest off my finger. This was just a taste test to see, if in fact, what I was about to buy was pure MDMA powder with absolutely NO CUT. Pure hard crystal rock.
10:30- Satisfied, I quickly attained a gram of the stuff. Take another pinky dip and lick it down.
11:00- Drop off my newly found dealer and begin the 45min drive home. I already feel the speedy effect and have dilated pupils.
11:20- Feeling nostalgic, I take another couple pinky dips just to make sure I get real high tonight. I havenít had a good MDMA experience in quite a while. I stop for gas and by a sobe to wash down the Mollyís nasty taste in my mouth.
Driving while intoxicated, tripping, or extremely sleep deprived is dangerous and irresponsible because it endangers other people. Don't do it!]
11:30- On the last stretch of freeway before I reach my house, a take a straw and use it as a scoop. I scooped up an unknown amount and shove it into my nose. I inhale hard. BAM! I feel a sharp burning sensation explode in my nostril. My eyes begin to flush and the road starts to blur. In sort of panic, I fumble around for the straw but I canít find it. By now Iím starting to swerve out of my lane a little, so I suck it up and watch the road, and give up looking for the straw for a second. Once I gain composure, I reach down and find the straw, dip it into the sobe and draw up some liquid and squirt it into my nose repeatedly. Ahhhh!!! Much much better. I start to feel the warmth now. It begins to rush over my body. I feel nice, but my nose and the back of my throat hurt like hell. Over the next half hour I feel really good coming up.
I finally get home, turn off the car, and walk up to my door. Before opening the lock on the door, I catch a glimpse of my mom still walking around in the house through a window. She doesnít see me so I get back in my car and head out to find some weed. I drive to the local chill spot and find some old high school buddies chillin, and thank God they had weed.
I was very happy to see them but the feeling was much less than mutual. The first words
out of my mouth were ďIím high on E right now.Ē I just wanted to get that out of the way or else it would have been real weird. Unfortunately the encounter was weird nonetheless. These guys donít do E and really didnít understand my high. I remember joking around with them a bit but I guess they werenít in the mood for messing around.
As I approach the back left passenger door, I blurt out ďscooch over u fat bastardĒ, quoting Jonny Depp in Fear and Loathing, but nobody caught it, and hoped they didnít take that as an insult. I proceeded to continue with the transaction. I finished up and departed with some less than impressive bud (those guys havenít gotten respectable weed since I stopped hooking them upÖgo figure) and headed home. At this point to was coming on real hard.
As I pulled out of the parking lot and onto the streets, it was becoming very difficult to see. The road was stretching and morphing so I decided to get home quickly. The good feelings were pretty much gone now. I more so felt extremely intoxicated and a little shaky. I was rolling real well as I came in the front door and zoomed around the house, grabbing miscellaneous things and preparing my room for the trip. Come to think of it now, I should have gotten a hotel because it sucked worrying about my parents being home.
Upon my arrival in my room, I smoked a bowl and chilled for a while before I took a shower and also scooped a couple more pen caps of Molly into my mouth and washed it down with some water. It tasted like pixy sticks without sugar, just really bitter and salty. I must have been insane because the last two hits I took just then is where I crossed the line from safe tripping into careless tripping. I was trying to get to that loving ecstasy rolling high, when really I had passed it up about an hour ago. Now I was catapulting unknowingly into a different high. I sat there for about a half hour in the shower with a banana to try and calm my stomach down because I was getting EXTREME nausea. I started to get flu like symptoms with hot and cold flashes, and really uncomfortable stomach pains.
If I let my self go, I began to convulse violently to the point were I was kicking like a jackrabbit. I was having pleasantly tranquil visuals, which was a perk, so I began to gaze at the tiles in the shower. I looked at four squares so that they made a plus sign, then the droplets on the tile would begin to warp and it felt like I was inside of at ship going warp speed with stars passing by me. It was very cool, but also hard to keep my concentration because my concern was that I was about to way too high. It had already been one hour since my last dose and I was still coming up hard. I thought that this would have been my peak, but it was only about 6.5 on a scale from 1-10, and I was yet to go all the way to 10 baby! I was at about a low ++ on the Shulgin scale, but still intense as hell.
I got out on the shower and fumbled my dripping naked body through the dark and down the hall to my room. I put on some real shitty porn that failed miserably to arouse me, so I had to revert to music visuals on my laptop to entertain me as I smoked a couple more bowls. About another half hour where I was comfortable. I listened to some really awesome trance/techno on itunes radio that proceeded to completely blow my mind. I sat there with the computer on my chest and watched the pretty colors display beautiful patterns before my eyes. My mind made wonderful cognitive connections with the swirling pictures that were pulsing with the bass drive. The only way to describe the visual eye candy I experienced was that it looked like a depiction of time if one could ever see it objectified in motion. If you sit down in the shower and look up at the water coming from the faucet head, thatís how time would look as well, just a streaming band of fluid breaking off into smaller little droplets as it falls to the floor. It was very strange, but mind expanding and beautiful as well.
After a while I could no longer concentrate well enough to be entranced by these intricate thought patterns. I began to fade in and out of a roll, going from feeling quite content, to an intense intoxicated feeling. I swerved back and fourth between these two states of mind until little by little, I became locked into the intoxicated feeling, and I had managed to get even higher, and was still coming up. I now had terrible even worse nausea than before, and convulsed constantly and violently. I no longer felt the wondrous warm loving feeling that had previously been intended, and slipped into a very dark and mysterious dysphoria .
In the next two hours, I sat on my floor like a steaming pile of worthless crap, staring at the walls because I could no longer focus on the laptop screen. My stomach felt like it was going to reject its contents at the drop of a hat and without heed. If I smoked a bowl, this would stop the madness of convulsions and nausea for about 15-20 min. tops, and then I would descend back into this miserable dysphoric state of mind. One hour into this period, I felt the vile in my stomach press up against the top of my esophagus, and it became too much for me to handle. I then realized I was doomed, and I could hold it no longer.
It was in my best interest not to wake my parents for sake of their sanity and mine, so I made my way out into the garage as quietly and as nimble as I could in the pitch-black darkness. I turned the door knob to the garage and fumbled over boxes, hand over mouth, vomit already spewing its way out from behind my fingers as I made my way out the sink to further release some stomach tension. Thank my lucky stars that I made it. After a good vomit I went discretely back inside and washed up, got some water and cereal, and went back to my bedroom and sat down in the exact same position. Vomiting didnít settle my stomach at all, which indicated that I this trip wasnít going to mellow out any time soon.
Later I discovered that I was still coming up even though my fist dosing was about FIVE hours ago. Realizing I was screwed, I tried eating a bit of cereal with water to fuel my body a bit. Food was key. I hadnít any dinner that night and my body was running on practically nothing, and even though the food didnít settle my stomach much, it make me feel a tad better for about five minutes per bite of dry cereal with a sip of water. The remaining 45 min. of this two-hour period was spent in the exact same spot on the floor in my room, battling the drug. My cardio condition was a mess, but thankfully Iíve felt worse. My heart wasnít exactly racing, but it was sped up, accompanied by really high blood pressure. Every pulse of blood felt like it was going to make my veins explode, but it wasnít anything I couldnít handle.
I couldnít move from that spot on the floor for fear that my stomach might project its contents without warning, so I huddle over my trash can covered by my down comforter to proof the sound as to try and not wake my parents. An E overdose nausea is so troubling, and by overdose I mean a dose that gets me past to warmth and good feelings to the dark and dysphoric state.
Finally, around five in the morning, I am at least able to stand up and move around. This came as a comfort to me, even though physically I felt like shit. It was nice to know that somewhere on this E ride I was beginning to taper. Weather it was a tapering peak, or tapering come-up, I had no clue, but it nice at last for the trip meet a plateau so I could begin to judge how long the rest of the damn thing would last. Just as I was standing there contemplating, spacing-out, damning myself for putting myself in this situation and such, stillness came about. A momentary break in the storm, a deep breath before the plunge, an eternity of time before the impactÖand then *ZaNg!* A dark hand suddenly forced me back into my shuttle seat as the ship began to shake violently as it blasted off the launch pad. I was being shot into space. It was all dťjŗ vu, fear similar to that of an LSD trip.
I shoved my face in my hands in fear and fell into a fetal position on my bed. Suddenly, with no warning, the peak slammed into me, ton-of-bricks wise. It was absolutely blindsiding. It was like walking in a dark alley at night. I lay there on my bed, drawing deep stuttering breathes of panic.
I get up from my cowering state on the bed because the room is starting to spin on the y-axis. Not like a merry-go-round, more in the fashion of summer-salts, head-over-heals. The room looks like itís five feet high around the edges of the room towards the walls, and the center of the room looks of normal height. Everything is half the size it should be, and nothing looked familiar. Nothing in my room looked like it belonged to me. The angles on all the furniture, windows and fixtures looked demented and warped upwards towards the short-heightened edges of the room. The room stretched from mid-wall down, and I seemed to bump head-to-celing when I stood near a wall. There was a chafing sense of self-displacement, but there was nowhere else to hide. This was my space, my room. I could not leave because the rest of the house was communal.
My room took on the feeling of a detention center for my existence and my insanity. Desparity anchored into my chest, and I paced my room back and fourth, searching for a corner of it that offered asylum. I groped for meaning with vanity as I paced. There was no place for me in this state of mind, no purpose. I was entering a realm of the undead. It felt as if I was pushing the chemical definition of human existence, if one can truly do such a thing. I was human, but there was no evidence of humanity in my conscience. I was no longer thinking in patterns that reflected my self or human personality. All my brain can realize is that there is a body attached to it in this place of space and time. Existing no longer makes any logical sense. I am just there, and my neurons are pumping out record high, massive amounts of chemicals that otherwise I donít need at the moment for any particular reason.
And then my purpose was realized and thus reinstated: it was to explore. I am my own pioneer, and I have been from day one. My meaning is to search, understand, embrace, and search once more. This was my rebirth, my reminder that I am still alive and what it means to live. This head space was another nook and cranny of existence that I had yet to experience, and when my purpose was realized, I accepted my time away from sanity, and was yet damn afraid of this place, a bittersweet intersection of time and life. This was survival mode. If I could just survive, I would be ok. If I could just live to tell this story, God, I will die a happy person. I would rather die in a car accident tomorrow rather than to die now during this trip. Just one more day, I beg of you. What a curiously desperate state of mind.
After pacing for a few moments, my surroundings made me sick because they looked so alien to me. I felt that I had passed in to a distorted version of the real world. It felt like an acid trip in the way that everything I lay eyes on was warped although it was not moving fluidly like it does on acid. If things moved, they would ripple or stretch. It was like I had fallen into the rabbit hole, or like I had awoken inside of one. This was the first time I had felt like I had been pushed past the brink. LSD and Molly combined was more intense than this because I couldnít even walk, but being fully aware and coherent on a bad trip was absolutely awesome.
Itís safe to say my trip was a +3, slipping in and out of a +4.
A bit, shook-up, and still very afraid, I lay down on my bed again to gain some handle on my situation. I still had very bad nausea, but I knew it wouldnít get worse, so knowing that made it easy to cope, but feeling like I was about to loose my marbles made me want to scream for my mommy. I guess the best way to describe my fear was like looking down a ten thousand foot cliff as I dangle off the end of it, and realize there would be a lot of time to think about life if I slipped off the edge and fell.
Once I got in bed, I pulled the covers over myself and tried to get comfy. Iíd toss and turn until I found a comfortable spot. I tried not to look at things because the shapes in the room were all wrong. The angles on everything were not what they should be. Then, as I got really comfy and began to settle down, the drug began to push my mind into overdrive. When I would look at the strange angle of things, my head felt like it began to fill with air like a balloon, but thatís not what scared me at all. In that moment, I would gaze at the things in my room, the couch, table and things looked like it was on or part of the wall. Everything on the floor, the table, couch, bedside table, would slowly slide up the wall as I begun to loose sense of center gravity again, and I felt like I was spinning in the summer-salt fashion, head over heals-like. This didnít make me feel like I would vomit again, but it made me really want to. Feeling completely out of place, I would begin to sink into the center floor while everything slipped up the wall and I felt something that I had never felt in my whole entire life. I felt like my physical body was slipping into another dimension through a tiny little hole in the bottom of the room, and thatís what it really looked like from where I was laying.
I felt no center of gravity at all, but there was a curious feeling that was I was spinning downward, not falling. It was not a downward spiraling feeling like it might sound like. I felt like I was dwindling into a different time-space. I looked down at my knees, and they had stretched down so far that there was just a faded black hole were my feet should be. The second I saw this I vowed that for the remainder of the trip, I would not look down anymore because I might really slip into the black hole. Instead I was burdened with the visuals that were continuously sliding up the wall, making me feel like I was being sucked down anyway. This feeling would come in waves. When I relaxed, then it would gradually kick in until I would feel it at full force. For about an hour and a half of this, I was convinced that I could actually loose existence here on earth.
My fear was that if I was not careful, I could spontaneously combust into flames once I fell down into the hole. Spontaneous human combustion is debatable as to whether or not it is real, and it has happened to a number of people for reasons that are unknown at this time. I didnít feel like I would just black out or anything. It felt like I was about to burst into flames from to stomach outward. I felt sick mentally and physically, and I was scared of breaking into another dimension of existence where I would never be able to get back. It was also unsettling that I couldnít just lie down and try to fall asleep, because as soon as I began to relax and take deep sleepy breathes, the feeling that I would spontaneously combust would creep back up, startling me and I would sit straight up, eyes wide open, try to relax and get a grip, then lie down again. This cycle continued for another couple of hours until I came down just a little bit. After that it was just a long come down.
The entire day was spent ducking out in my room, nourishing myself back to baseline, and trying to hide from my parents. Lucky for me they left for a few hours so I could get up, move around, and most importantly make some food because I was completely exhausted and strung out. I also went into the garage to clean up the vomit in the sink where I previously had puked, but to my surprise somebody had cleaned it before I could get to it. This put me on my parentís shit list for the day, and I figured that my mom would try and probe me for info as to why there was puke in the sink. My mom only came into my room only once at the end of the day and woke me up from a nodding sleep, but I was able to hide my still dilated pupils from her by putting a shirt over my eyes and saying that I had a bad migraine and my eyes were light sensitive in consequence.
She wondered why I hiding out in my room and I told her about my migraine and that it hurt to look at the sunlight. Then I proceeded to apologize for the mess in the sink and told her that I had gotten drunk last night. Shocked, my mom told me that nobody cleaned the sink and what happened was that the washing machine had emptied soapy water into the sink. Embarrassed, I apologized about ďgetting drunkĒ, and she got over it a while after.
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