Citation: Dubmunky. "Cement Swim Fins: An Experience with Diphenhydramine (Benadryl) & Eszopiclone (Lunesta) (exp58955)". Erowid.org. Oct 1, 2009. erowid.org/exp/58955
I donít know how informative this report will be, but I figured I would offer it up for whatever value that can be gleaned from it. I do have a history of experimentation with hallucinogens/entheogens (LSD, THC, Salvia, LSA) along with a history of mental illness (I was diagnosed with borderline personality disorder which has a higher than average suicide and mortality rate among other mental disorders).
For at least a month prior I felt myself psychologically crashing. Normally, I ignored this since with BPD, suicidal thoughts are so common in my day-to-day life that I donít bother acknowledging them, unless theyíre serious. Then about a week before my attempt, I began hoarding pills. I collected up as much Benadryl as I could find, and ten of my motherís Lunesta sleeping pills. At around 4am on December 14th, following a short but intense fight with my mom, I shut myself into my room and began my normal form of stress relief, self-mutilation. Noticing that wasnít working and sensing my self sinking further into despair, I began making preparations for my attempt.
At approx 5am, I began calling my workplace to tell them I wouldnít make it in and then began ingesting the pills. This took me approximately 20 minutes, after which I lay down and stared at the picture of my daughter hanging on the wall. I just wanted to go to sleep. What comes next is where time and the experience itself gets fuzzyÖ
I woke up and noticed I needed to go pee. I sat up in bed, noticing that I felt like I was made of plastic mixed with cement. I donít have any other way of explaining it better than that. Sitting on the edge of my bed, I began to look around and noticed that colors seemed brighter and fractal-like. The carpet was three feet thick and fluid. All of this was not unlike LSD, but this had a definite unpleasant, chemical feel to it. It wasnít smooth in any way. I do know that I believe I realized I was tripping at this point. I got up from the bed, or rather I more or less just slid off into the standing position and tried to walk to my window. Walk, hah! Thatís a relative term at this point. It more or less seemed as if something was pulling me forcefully to the right and that I was wearing concrete swim fins. People describe this as drunk? I want to know what they're drinking then. I was continually over compensating in my legs to move.
Anyway, I somehow made it across the hall to the bathroom. Though I couldnít even begin to tell you what time it was, I do know that it was now daylight and my parents were awake in the living room. In the bathroom, I proceeded to check my pupils for dilation. Oddly, I didnít notice any. I donít know if this was due to my perceptions of if there really was no mydriasis. After an undetermined amount of time, I returned to my bedroom and hoped to sleep this off as I no longer cared about dying and I just wanted normalcy to return.
In the following hours, I woke up at least two more times. I recall thinking about needing to go to the ER, but when I attempted to vocalize this, mind you I was alone in my room the whole time, what came out was slurred like when I developed heat stroke and the words, in no way, matched up to what I was intending to say. It was as if my vocal chords and my thoughts were having an argument and couldnít agree on what I really meant. I walked around my room a few more times, I guess attempting to walk off the Ďconcrete swim finí feeling in my legs. I know due to talking to my step dad later that, no one entered my room for almost an entire twenty-four hours, yet I swore that my mom had come in and crouched beside my bed and I began telling her that I was attempting suicide before falling asleep again.
By late Friday night, early Saturday morning, I was still somewhat hallucinating and generally out of touch with perceptual reality (ie...I just felt like things didn't seem right), but I know I was starting to come back down. I sat up in my bed and looked around my room. The entire contents of my wallet were strewn all over. Books lay everywhere and the phone was sitting next to my bed on the table. Had I tried to call someone? I do know that at some point that morning, my friend J. had called to say she was bringing by one of my DVDís before she went to work and would be by in just a few minutes. This was my first instance of during this trip of knowing what time it was since she has to be at work by 7:30am. I walked outside and met her at her truck and if I had had a real hold on reality at that time and wasn't still slurring my speech a bit, I would have asked her to take me to the hospital. I didn't though and attempted to act normally.
The whole of Saturday, I continued to be in a haze. I never really knew what to make of things and generally felt odd, though I couldn't even begin to explain in what way. It took until very early Sunday morning for that feeling to completely go away. The following Monday, I put myself back into therapy.
I found after reading on this site, that I took a larger than normal recreational dose of diphenhydramine, not including the Lunesta. Honestly, Iím surprised that Iím still alive. Being a former and very dedicated psychonaut, I have to ask myself, for experimental purposes, would I do it again? I really donít know. I put my body through hell physiologically. Iím still concerned about liver, GI and possible cardiac damage. Psychologically, though it was incredibly messed up, I felt no fear from the hallucinations or the experience in general. I do know, that I donít in any way, condone diphenhydramine as a Ďfuní experience for anyone not already used to other chemicals.
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