Citation: Varan. "The First Seed: An Experience with DXM (with CPM) (exp6809)". Erowid.org. Apr 25, 2002. erowid.org/exp/6809
Most Coricidin contains CPM (Chlorpheniramine Maleate) which can be dangerous in high doses. See DXM Brand Warnings for more info.]
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When I first heard of DXM and its true potential, my source assured me it was the strongest trip one could get at such a reasonable price. Starved as I was for an interesting experience, two friends and I went to a 24-hour department store and purchased some Coricidin. I was soon to learn that my source was not exaggerating in the least. I took thirteen pills at around midnight that night and waited for the drug to kick in. I hadn't eaten in a long while, and my chaser was a soft drink. This done, the three of us, one staying sober while the other joined me in the trip, drove to my house. Once there, we crashed in the basement and tried to kill time; secretly, I hoped to find some distraction from what I considered to be a lame and overblown rip-off. Like it would many times afterward, the Seed crept up on me.
I insighted the sober member of our party, a heavyset fellow, to carry me fireman style around the room and throw me down onto one of the many couches thereabout. The first of a handful of distinct memories of what happened next was a feeling of 'roller coaster drop.' The sensation was just like any I could expect to feel going over a large hill in a speeding car (or being slung from a shoulder over the arm of a couch), but I discovered with a mixture of fear and excitement that the feeling did not fade as my body came to a rest from the bouncing. It only grew as I stood. I walked drunkenly over to a nearby alcove, beginning to curl around and around, grinning like a Cheshire cat.
'I think this actually works. I feel it kicking in.' Truer words . . . My dizziness was the first symptom in a wave of paradoxes that filled the next twelve hours. I moved about constantly, but remained dizzy. I would fall and flop about, saying things as soon as they came to my mind. I constantly asked my friends for reassurance in whatever my concerns happened to be in that instant and then examined their answers like a paranoid schizophrenic. After about three hours of jumping from every room in the house to the next, and experiencing a VERY strange change in the feeling of urination and the flow of water and soap over my hands, I began to feel like Inque (Batman Beyond villain) I confessed this in many details to the sober one, who had been nice (paranoid) enough to follow me around and scrutinize whatever the hell I was doing. I could tell he had already become annoyed with my constant questions, and had asked me many times not to move so quickly ('like a hummingbird'), so after the Inque speech, I read on his face a message of hidden treachery. I then began to fear for my safety. The trip was all downhill from there.
Up until the thought occurred to me that I may be in some kind of danger, I had examined the changes in my body as mere curiosities. However, now that my instincts of survival had replaced my scientific mind, I viewed my loss of coordination as a very serious thing. Perhaps my speed would make up for that? Could I HURT him enough? COULD I? My eyes couldn't focus, and I would swear to this day they were moving in opposite directions. I could not keep still. I couldn't escape; I was in my own house.
As I sat and pondered these revelations, the fear of death came to me. A feeling of severe deja vu, the strongest I have ever felt, crept to me, warning me that the sensation I was feeling was how it felt to die. I began to shiver more rapidly. Clinically, I tried to convince myself that these sensations were merely random misfires in my brain's chemicals due to the drug. This did not help at all.
I could not sleep, so I laid as motionless as I could for about five hours. Eventually my friends left, and the drug relented enough to allow me to fall asleep. When I awoke, I was still jittery, dizzy, overly talkative, and viewing the world through the same mismatched eyes. This worried me greatly. I looked at my watch, able to focus on the liquid crystal images by swiping it vertically before my face, and saw that the time was noon. I had been tripping for what was going on nine hours.
Thankfully, there were no permanent damages, and I have never spoken openly of the introspective experiences that 'Seed' (the drug's street name) left in me. I consider a few of the details of my experience to be unbelievable, but I chose to print them here in all honesty. I want anyone who is looking into this drug experience to know the rewards and risks. Plan carefully is my best advice. Think of Seed as a combination of LSD and alcohol, able to warp judgment and perception of reality in horrific or wondrous ways. Under the proper conditions, the internal thoughts caused by this chemical can be memorable to say the least, and, if positive, something well worth the effort. But, be warned.
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