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Every Action Has A Reaction
Various
by funk daddy
Citation:   funk daddy. "Every Action Has A Reaction: An Experience with Various (exp7884)". Erowid.org. Dec 18, 2003. erowid.org/exp/7884

 
DOSE:
  oral LSD  
    oral MDMA (pill / tablet)
    insufflated Cocaine (powder / crystals)
    insufflated Methamphetamine (powder / crystals)

BODY WEIGHT: 200 lb


I started smoking weed when I was 13 and that seemed to be good enough, it made me mellow and kind of uncaring about the depression (now that I look back at it)I seemed to be suffering from. But then I moved from the small Texas town I was living in to Houston when I was 14 and that is where the story really began. For another year I did alright, I barely even smoked weed, my grades improved and I passed my eighth grade year (the second time around). I started high school with all the hope of graduating, but that just wasn't to be.

About two months into it I took my first trip, and I loved it! It kind of cleaned all the remains of the Christian religious crap-ola out of my head and got me in touch with the true unfathomable mystic energy that all humans and animals feel (not to mention making a pretty cool light show go on inside my head!). I continued taking acid and smoking weed through the next few years, but unfortunately my education suffered. I thought it was more important to study the outer reaches of consciousness and have a hell of a time doing it, instead of studying what THE MAN wanted me to learn. Acid also seemed to have an effect on my creativity, I have always drawn and played musical instruments, but now I seemed to be doing it to produce a trance that helped me tap into my subconsciousness, which I believe to be a direct conduit to the chaotic creative energy of the universe.

I finally dropped out of school when I was 18 and still in ninth grade. At the time I would rather of had big drug parties all day with like-minded (but not really) people. I was finally kicked out of my mother's home a month after my eighteenth, you would think I would've straightened up and got busy surviving, but nooooope. I continued partying. It was around this time I started taking MDMA (or sometimes the stuff they passed around as). I was told it was a lot better than acid (and I found it to be!). I ate my first roll at a Marilyn Manson concert (I told you I was an unhappy child!) and I connected with the music (empathy) as I never have before! It also seemed to bring me closer to the people I went to the concert with, who were my best friends (and still are today).

The next day I was preaching to the heavens on high the virtues of ecstasy to all of my friends who hadn't tried it, but by nightfall I hit the emotional slump that all E-users feel. At the time I didn't know to terribly much of neurotransmitters and the affect serotonin has on your moods so I started craving more E. So I became a heavy user of ecstasy, I would eat 2-5 tabs every Saturday night and be broke the rest of the week. I started living off of ninety-nine cent hamburgers or any other cheap fast food I could eat. Luckily at the time I was living rent free in a tore up I was supposed to be repairing and the only bill I had was car insurance. Well anyway, I lived their for about six months, the last two with a couple I had never met before, when I got kicked out. The landlord wanted to move back in. At the time I was jobless and had no money worth speaking of, but the couple took me into there apartment when we moved so I never ended up homeless. The guy used to be a crack and heroin addict so he kind of understood. I didn't mention I moved from Houston with my mom because she got a job offer in another small town, I moved when I was seventeen and a half.

Well anyway here I am strung out on E, herb, cocaine and just about anything (besides crack and heroin) I could get my hands on, jobless, and living with a strange couple who's patience for me is getting shorter day after day. So I decide to move back to Houston and I start hanging with the remnants of my old crew, most of their pharmacological tastes had also increased. Also a few of them were frequently going to raves.

My first rave was BassStation'99, and prior to this I had heard of raves and knew some 'ravers' peripherally and had an idea of what they were about(PLUR, being happy and having a good time), but I had never been to one. I went and had a good time until the lights and the music started to be too much. I had taken a dose of clear gel acid and smoked some ketamine laced in a joint. After smoking the joint, I decided to get up and walk around, bad idea, the dose started kicking and the K hit me and all I could see were arms, legs and heads flying around and the blue uniformed cops staring at me (I think).

Well, this was a little too much so I started looking for my friends to help calm me down. I found them but they were too wrapped up in everything to really help, so I ended up walking around in a room full of people I don't know scared to death with a headful of strong acid for five hours. But that didn't stop me from going to more raves though I continued to go for about the next year eating every kind of roll that went around from mid-'99 to mid-'00.

I guess from the constant drug abuse my psyche started to crumble.

When I first moved back to Houston I had purchased two vials of liquid acid to sell, but ended up eating most of it with the help of friends in a matter of two months. I would constantly take a few drops and go out on the town, like I was doing stimulants or something. I believe the lack of supporting people and of set and setting helped lead to the six months of having lost touch with reality. I started believing their were hidden messages in music and that some great conspiracy was controlling every thing (like the rich trying to control the poor by numbing their minds with drugs...but it might be true Hmmmmmmm...). Well that was just one of them. Also at the same time I was having a hard time dealing with the level of sensitivity toward people (male and female) I cared about, that E seemed to give me. Growing up in a home with a father that made you feel like you weren't a man unless you were rough and tough and fucked any girl that walked by, didn't help either. I had difficulty trying to give the love I felt for all of my friends to them without feeling sexual. Well anyway, that kind of set up a loop in my head made me have conflicting feelings about my sexuality. Coupled with that the slightly schizo-paranoia the two month acid bath gave me.

Then I ran into an old high school bud, and I thought he had the answer to my problem, crystal methamphetamine. I started using crank(speed, tweak, bullshit, whatever) to make me a 'man' again. I thought it would toughen me up. Well any way this takes us to the end of 2000 and on to the final chapter.

So I started using tweak and selling it, because I was getting it cheap (old high school friend don'tcha know). It was great I found a new group of friends, I was high 24/7, and I had a little ching-ching in my pocket. So I was doing hard physical labor all day and had the energy to play all night, my lost self confidence (it has always been kinda low)was replaced with a new bravado and I started feeling like a tough guy (said in you best Italian American Bronx accent). Then I was asked to move in with my homeboy's family, I said sure. It was all gravy for three months, when every body started staying up waaaaaayyyyy too long. I started thinking the subliminal messages I thought I was hearing on the radio were real and that there was an impending race war. Also, I thought that my homeboy was trying to turn me into a homo (not that there is anything wrong with that) and that he was trying to set me up. It finally came to a head in the January of '01, when I came home from work and found a pictograph on my bed saying that I lied.

There were some people over, so I started talking to them about what I found on my bed. I was asking them what this was all about and they just kind of shrugged their shoulders, then came homeboy down the stairs, anorexically skinny and looking friggin' nuts with two knives on his belt. He started screaming at me that I was an undercover DEA agent, and I was a part of the Aryan Brotherhood, and that I was gay! The thing that was scary about all that was that we knew each other in high school and in between the few years we didn't see each other there was no way I could have become John Law, the AB thing was understandable because I told him my conspiracy theory(but Iím not a racist at all), the gay thing is understandable to but I never tried to experiment with him or anything. My only conclusion was not enough sleep and tweak. He also pulled a sword on me and tried to stab me.

I've finally started to pull my head back together in the past few months, I still suffer from slight visual disruptions and I still feel more empathic than I used too, which is a good thing. I'm also more understanding of people and their situations. It also seems I'm more at peace with myself and the universe, and less attached to materialistic things. My HPPD really doesn't bother me it just adds more color to this life. I also had a slight stutter I had as I child come back but it's not to bad it only happens when I'm under stress. I've also have come to terms with my heterosexuality.

The point is if you want to do drugs do them for the right reasons (consciousness expansion), and don't let the drugs do you.

Much love and respect to all.

Exp Year: 2001ExpID: 7884
Gender: Male 
Age at time of experience: 21 
Published: Dec 18, 2003Views: 41,503
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Methamphetamine (37), Cocaine (13), MDMA (3), Mushrooms (39), LSD (2), Cannabis (1) : Various (28), Depression (15), Addiction & Habituation (10), Retrospective / Summary (11)

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