Citation: undone. "Six Months of Daily Use: An Experience with Ketamine (exp81770)". Erowid.org. Feb 13, 2011. erowid.org/exp/81770
||(powder / crystals)
This was years ago, and it has since been over three years since I have touched ketamine.
During high school there was a period of my life where I was able to acquire large amounts of pure ketamine on a regularly basis for free. Take that as you will, every week I had a new 1000mg bottle of medicinal ketamine hidden under my bed. I had syringes that I occasionally used to inject it, but injecting was a pain in the ass, the dose was easiy to overestimate, and then Iíd just spend half an hour vomiting in whatever toilet was available without any sense of my location. Once I remembered where I was, the vomiting would stop, and Iíd be able to stumble out of the bathroom.
Usually I would use the syringes to remove the liquid from the little bottle, put it into some sort of dish, and then boil off the liquid. Every week while my parents were gone I would do this, or sometimes they wouldnít be gone long enough and I would sit in my room with a lighter and a metal bowl, burning my hand from the heat of the metal on the lighter as I waited for it to boil off. Then the process of trying to scrape as much as physically possible off the edge of the container, putting it into a small baggy, tying off the end, and being set for the week.
I did ketamine everyday. Usually during school or before bed. During school I would take my baggy and use a key to huff tiny mounds off the end. At best, the environment would get wavy and I would be entertained, and happy to such an extent that hours of boring class would pass by routinely. For me, the major effects lasted about 30 minutes. That was another plus side, if I accidentally did too much I would be okay in half an hour and ready to participate in my next class. At night, I would do lines, put on radiohead, and lie in bed as I watched my mind swirl. It wasnít like shrooms; I could do this everyday, multiple times, and with a varying amount be entertained every time. This was always about entertainment. I had at least one situation that felt spiritual, out of body, as I closed my eyes and road into the K-Hole on the majestic purple and blue swirls leading into and out of my mind, but that was not the norm. Usually I was just bored, and ketamine distracted me.
But eventually I needed it to be ďnormal.Ē It distracted me, toned down my anxiety, and made me happy with whatever I was doing, a necessity in high school. For most of the time I had access to unlimited amounts of ketamine I was snorting it five times a day and shooting it on occasion. Shooting it was interesting but I didnít like it as much, because of the muscle pain the next day and the absurd intensity of it. I always had my little baggy of K on me, and if I forgot it on any outing I would be on edge the entire time until I returned to it.
Then one day came my most intense experience with Ketamine at any point in my life, and the second time my parents were alerted to my abuse of it during this point, the first being when they found my cooking supplies. One day a close friend and I decided to do shrooms. I had done them before, 1/16, but this time I took 1/8. We put on Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas around when they were kicking in for me, which was very fast as my metabolism is absurdly quick and always has been. They hit me with a rush of love, joy, and a knowledge that not only would everything be okay, but everything would be FUN. My boredom was over and everything was great! Amazing! Stupendous! Nothing could be better than this life I was about to embark on and what could make it even better but ketamine?
I had been sitting in the living room with my friend watching the movie, and returned to his room. He wasnít there, and didnít know what I was doing, and I didnít really either. The shrooms were intense, the room was moving, I could barely balance already as the peak came on and I poured out my entire bag of ketamine on the table and snorted every last crystal. I canít tell you how much this was, all I know is that it was a lot. I remember the pile and it was definitely earlier in the week than later, although I was on shrooms. My estimate has always been 200mg Ė 800mg, but probably closer to 500mg-800mg with the way it affected me.
I returned to the living room happier than ever. I watched Johnny Depp enter the casino on ether and all of the psychedelic effects on the screen extended into the room and wrapped around my waving arms. The paintings on the wall jumped out to dance in the wave that surrounded me. I have since done lots of psychedelics, and other drugs as well, and nothing in the world has compared to that feeling and what I saw. Everything around me was beautiful and amazing. The smile on my face could not end, and my friend knew I was high. At some point I told him I had done ketamine, and he was of course not happy but had no idea how much I had done. And I did ketamine all the time, he knew this, why would that be a big deal?
After that one scene my memory died. My dad called from downstairs to pick me up and I was still tripping as hard as ever. 4 hours had probably gone by for the shrooms but with that much ketamine it didnít matter. I tried to find my way downstairs in the dark house and got lost on the stairs. My dad kept calling, I could barely speak and was lost in the darkness of my best friendís house. Eventually he came, put me in the elevator, and I went down to the first floor (it was a condo building). I came out, stumbled out in the street and into the car. I could barely speak and had a huge grin on my face. My dad looked at me worried, asking me what had happened, what was wrong with me, why I couldnít speak or answer his questions. All I could say was ďketamine.Ē I donít remember saying it, but that is what he told me. I remember his face among the light fading swirls staring at me, and how unfamiliar it was. I remember him speaking, but not what he said as we drove home.
The next thing I remember I woke up hours later in my bed screaming. Snot and tears dripped down my face, but I didnít know what that was. I screamed and cried, unaware of where I was, or who I was. My mother came in to comfort me and I had no idea who she was either. I asked all these questions as my ability to speak had come back. I cried and yelled asking who I was, where I was, what was happening, who she was, what was going on. She tried to comfort me and answer my questions but eventually saw the futility. She lay in bed with me and gave me tissues for the disgusting mess that was my face, I didnít know how to wipe it up because it was all gone. They had called my friend and asked him (while he was still tripping, they were unaware of this) if I would be okay and he reassured them I would be fine. They did not call an ambulance or take me to the hospital, this was their last desire.
It took me three days to physically and mentally recover enough from this to return to school. My parents had no idea where I got my ketamine, I told them I bought it and they believed me, thank god. After this I promised not to and they put me in an outpatient treatment program (that, by the way, didnít do shit). I continued my abuse of ketamine until my source was gone. And that was it. I had a baggy or two for the entire summer, which at one point got lost in my room. I found it in the fall, did the rest, and that was that. It was gone. That long roller coaster of vomiting in store bathrooms, not remembering who anyone was, stumbling through the halls, having powder on my nose when I went to class... was over. Done.
I have since been given the chance to try ketamine again, to acquire it and see what itís like. I have always been tempted but with that... no. It hasnít happened again. But now that Iím older and more experienced with my drug use I wonder if I could appreciate it more. It is a beautiful drug, and itís a shame I wasted it on my bored naÔve high school self.
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