I know there are typos in this report, and the formatting is rather shit, but I really don't want to re-read this again right now...
I am writing this in the hopes that my experience can help, if only just one person, to make a more educated decision than I did a few weeks ago. I have been involved with drugs for about eight years prior to this experience, and far and away this was the dumbest shit I have ever done. A few years back, I had quit using alcohol, stimulants, and recreational pharmaceutical usage. A few weeks prior to this experience, I had made the decision to end my daily usage of marijuana. I had (and still do not have) a desire to never use marijuana again, I had just decided that eight years of daily usuage was enough for me. There are more important things in life than being high all the time. I had basically turned my life around, for the first time in a long time my family was proud of me, and more importantly I was proud of myself. I was (and still am) doing extremely well in school, and am on track to advance and double my yearly salary in my job at the next six to twelve months. I came so close to throwing all that away it sickens me. As I have read before, "If you've got the message, it's time to hang up the phone". Well trust me, I've heard the message loud and clear, and consider the phone disconnected and thrown through out window.
Early in the day, around 9am, I took ~20mgs MXE sublingually and went to a football game. Nothing to speak of, as I have been using MXE at least weekly for the past month and a half or so. I plan on dosing 4-AcO-DMT for the first time later in the day, and at this point I am hoping there isn't any lessening of the AcO's affect due to the MXE.
I get home around 430PM, and take a small ~1mg allergy test of the 4-AcO-DMT. I spend the next hour and a half or so cleaning my house and whatnot. I feel no ill affects from the allergy test. I belive I weigh around 25mg-30mg of the AcO and dose it sublingually. I can't recall at this point. I am hard-headed it seems, both literally and figuratively, and do not want to have an underwhelming trip as I do not have too many opportunities to trip due to my schedule. I don't really want to overdo it either, but figure "fuck it", which WAS unfortunatly my mindset a lot of times. The affects of the AcO are not really the point of this report, suffice it to say it was underwhelming for me. I wait a little too long to redose, maybe a little over an hour, and snort ~11mg if I remember correctly. Possibly a slight improvement, but not really. Realize anything else would be a waste of the small amount I have, and decide no more.
At this point I am hit with the knowledge (it's strange, but sometimes it would feel like I KNEW how/that addition of chemicals would put me where I wanted), that if I were to take some 2c-e I would be where I wanted to be. Now I haven't ever taken 2c-e at this point, but as I mentioned earlier I am hard-headed (and a fucking idiot). I also knew my brother was possibly comming to stay with me later that night and didn't want to out of it when he got there, so I got it in my head to wait and dose 2c-e, 4-AcO-DMT, and MXE later.
My brother doesn't arrive at my house until after 12AM, and the 4-AcO-DMT affects are completely down at this point. Now, the intelligent part of me is saying, just smoke a fucking bowl and go to sleep you idiot. Unfortunatly, the part of me that is trying to "figure out some shit real quick before school starts again in a month" knows I won't have too many opportunities with my work schedule, and I have a few chemicals I just really wanted to try so. Before he arrives at my house, I have prepared a solution for rectal dosing of all three chemicals. I want to say maybe around 8-10mg 2c-E, 30mg MXE, and 17-20mg 4-AcO-DMT. This was a little less than two weeks ago, and my memory is fading on the exact dosage, but that is fairly close.
I stay up talking with him until maybe 2AM, then dose the solution rectally. This is not even the part where shit goes south, this was actually pretty fucking awesome. I was starting to get some strange visuals when looking at a picture on my phone. I was looking at a picture of a female, and it's like the picture scrambled and I saw/felt what could have been our whole life together just hyperscramble on my phone. Like image after image after image in superspeed. I couldn't really make out anything visually, but it was an impression that I felt.
I just remember laying in bed thinking "ALMOST, this is ALMOST what I'm looking for tonight." I get it in my head that I need just a TAD (5-7mg 2c-e) and I will be good. I am on it pretty heavily at this point though, and I end up laying in bed for a few hours I belive. I'm not really sure, I don't recall much of that trip except for what I allready mentioned, as what I am about to tell you significantly overwhelms anything else that happened that day.
At some point, I get up and decide I am going to take another rectal dose, this time with 2c-e, 2c-c, MXE and 4-AcO-DMT. It takes forever because I keep losing track of what I am doing, and do not have the solution prepared until almost 6AM. I end up using ~15mg 2c-e, 30-35mg 2c-c, most likely ~20mg 4-AcO-DMT, and (this is where I fucked up, well actually the whole thing was a fucked up. The 2c-c potentiated the 2c-e to where I feel I may as well have taken 25-30mg 2c-e and felt none of the 2c-c) at least 60mg MXE. My thinking was the MXE would just lock me in straight bed mode, and I would be able to sleep (with the help of a little xanax) in less than two hours. In actuallity, the MXE just caused me to have PCP freakout style strength shortly.
I remember looking in the mirror and KNOWING this was a bad idea. I said "fuck it" like always though, and figured I would take a 2mg xanax bar if it got too bad. I had broken 1/4 off a bar and put it next to my bed (just to ease to sleep), and left more in a pillbottle in my dresser (mistake).
It didn't take maybe 15-20 minutes before I started to get way overwhelmed. I had so many crazy thoughts and experiences in the next 45ming-1hr I can't remember which started to come first. There is no way I will be able to remember everything, and honestly I really do not want too. At one point I am laying in bed, and can't move. I feel as though I'm stuck in this bad dream and will never be able to wake up, in effect I broke my brain. While I realize I took chemicals (sort of), I can't comprehend the fact that this experience will be over at any point. I keep telling myself that if I can make it to 7am (not sure why) when the light would come in my window I would be allright. I think I was flashing back to a mushroom trip where I thought I was dead, and during that trip I realized I was alive when the light started to come in.
At some point I realized I could move, but this was actually a bad thing. I remember thinking I fucked up my anus somehow, and kept trying to take a shit. I kept seeing myself covered in feces. I also having like quick 2 second flashes, where I thought I was running throughout my house spreading the shit everywhere or something similiar. I wondered how my brother hadn't woken up (he was sleeping in my living room. 1 bedroom apartment) and why he wasn't pissed. At this point I should have asked for help, but unfortunatly he has NO experience with drugs or anything of this nature. I had also told him that under no circumstance was he ever to call an ambulance for me, even if I begged. I also had no desire to call an ambulance for myself, the thought never crossed my mind I don't think.
Shortly, I began to have really fucked up realizations about 2012. The world was comming to an end shortly blahblah. Then I realized I was in fact some type of undercover angel awaiting lucifer's rise to lead the battle of good and evil. Also, when I was stuck and couldn't move, I thought I had frozen into a buddha statue and was doomed to be like this for a millenia. At some point these delusions all criss-crossed eachother, and I was really reallly starting to freak the fuck out.
I'm not sure how exactly, but I woke up my brother at some point. I had the impression of being stuck in some super secret spy adventure, and my programming was malfunctioning, and I was visualising flashing back and forth between my current state and my REAL state ala tom cruise in mission impossible when he is swinging from the huge building in China or whatever to get the claw thing. I literally thought I had to WAKE UP or I would be dead in my spy state. I start beating my head with my fist trying to snap out of it, so I could snap into my spy state and continue doing whatever I was doing. I then literally begin to band my head against the wall (there are huge dents in my wall, and I had to get 5 staples to stop the bleeding). I wish to God I had knocked myself out then. At some point my brother comes in and keeps telling me to go back to sleep. I then begin to think he is another undercover angel, and he keeps telling me to go back to sleep because I will blow our cover.
Possibly, if he would have begun stressing to me at this point that i was tripping, and to calm the fuck down and take some benzos, I would have been okay. I belive I took the 1/4 xanax by my bed, but I couldn't manage to find the bottle with more in it, and I don't think they would have taken affect soon enough anyway. Unfortunatly, as mentioned, my brother has no drug experience, and had no fucking clue all the shit I was taking. He doesn't really approve, but he knows I do my thing. The fact that he did none of these things, and just kept telling me to calm down and go to sleep fed my delusion of being some kind of undercover spy/angel. I would try and lay down, but my thoughts/pictures were flashing through my mind at such a rapid pace i couldn't lay down for long.
Shortly after this I come to the conclusion that I have died/am God/become the buddha and I am free to do what I want in the world. This leads to me punching out the top two rows of panes in my second story window as I plan to climb out and commense doing whatever the fuck I want. My brother hears the glass breaking and comes in. I am overcome with the CERTAINTY that I have passed some kind of test/assended to some other level and I have to FIGHT past him to get what is mine. So I proceed to fight my brother off, climb over two rows of unbroken window panes and jump out of my second floor apartment window around 715-730AM.
I don't remember exactly, but I feel as if I'm in Inception as well. I had to die to wake up, or at least knock myself the fuck out. I belive that when I jumped, I turned myself sideways and tried to land flat on my side in an effort to knock myself out/kill myself. Just completely relaxed, because I KNEW this was what I needed to do. So in actuallity, anyone watching would have seen a guy jump out the window in an obvious effort to kill himself.
The next part really starts to become a blur. My brother tells me he thought I was dead, and I assume he sprinted out my door and downstairs to get me. I belive people must have seen me, because there are 3/4/5 men around me fairly quickly. I have landed in someones little fenced in patio area by our parking lot. They keep telling me to chill, lay down and chill. I think they are OTHER people who have assended and can do whatever the fuck they want as well. I think they are telling me to relax before I spoil it and "regular" people find out about us. I have no clue what kind of nonsense I am babbling at this point to them. As before, I lay still for a while, til my mind takes over and I fight them off and keep trying to break through the fence. Since I can do whatever I want, I am looking for a female, and I'm like "fuck you guys, nah I'm going to do whatever I want now."
Eventually an ambulance shows up and I'm taken to the closest hospital. For the next hour or two I am still convined I am a secret spy or some shit.
I keep telling all the people to fuck off and let me up, they don't have to hide the secret anymore. Once in the hospital I start to realize how bad I fucked up. I fight it though, because at this point I am realizing I ruined my life. I start to hope this is just a bad dream and I am going to wake up soon. I remember the last rectal solution I took, and my heart is literally sinking. At this point I want to die, as I have ruined everything I have worked so hard for over the past few years.
I remember them asking me which hurt more, my head or my hip, and I sullenly mumbled neither. They said "fine have it your way" and put five or six staples in my head. At this point I feel I deserve any pain I feel so fuck it. They keep telling me to piss in a bottle, and I tell them no, they aren't testing me for fucking drugs. As fucked as I still am, I refuse to admit I was on anything. I won't tell them shit about shit. I can't think clearly, but am terrified of them making me turn into a snitch. They tell me the pee is not for that, it's to make sure I didn't mess up my kidneys and I will have to have a catheter if I refuse. I figure I deserve the pain so bring it on. I never got a catheter, I think they realized I had no insurance and had me stabalized so they left me alone.
Laying there in a dark hospital room completely alone realizing fully what I had done was the worst feeling I've ever felt in my entire life. My father and brother came in and I wouldn't even look at them. I refused to talk to anyone or tell anyone anything for a good while.
Long story short, I was transfered to another hospital in the city. I am BLESSED to live in a large city, where a doctor at another hospital offered to perform the surgery needed to fix my fractured hip. Aside from a few cuts and bruises, a fractured hip was my only injury from leaping from my second story window. The docteres seemed confounded as to how I fractured my hip in such a serious way, without sustaining any other injuries. My brother insist (and I belive him, he says the image is burned in his mind until he dies... I feel terrible), that I landed on the opposite side as my fractured hip, which makes it even stranger.
I was in the hospital for a few days before I had the surgery. Eight days later, I am walking without crutches. I still use one if I plan on walking a longer distance than say, around the house. My poor family thought I had legitimatly tried to kill myself for a few hours. I felt so shitty and stupid as many of my relatives came to visit me in ICU. I finally admit to them what happened, although I never admit anything to any doctors. Actually, I have to tell one psychiatrist so I am not commited to a psych hospital, but make it very general and name no chemicals.
It is less than two weeks since this happened, and I feel at about 85% strength, and I belive I will be walking fine in a week or two. I feel so absolutely blessed to be alive, and to have the support of my family. It's strange, it's almost like it's not even that big of a deal. I guess I had turned my life around so much, it's almost like they just accept this for what it is. I told them I was just trying to figure out some stuff in my head, not to escape or because I was crazy and depressed like years ago, and pushed it too far and lost my shit.
All I know, is someone or something is looking out for me, and wants me to do something with my life. I've known this for a while, I've had a few experiences over the years that have let me know this. When I was a child, I had a total stranger (this is before google and instant info assess) come up to me in a city two states away from my home with intimate knowledge of my life. (I am paraphrashing but)They told me that God had a plan for me, and when everything was horrible and I couldn't see a way out, to have faith because I have something important to do before my life is over. They asked for permission to pray over me as well.
All I know is I'm hanging up the fucking phone. I've used up my three strikes, nine lives, what have you. I would be a fool to touch any psychedelic chemicals for a very very verrrrrrrrrrry long time. I feel at this time I have no more knowledge to gain through this route, and it's time to live my fucking life.
Also, if it were not for my brother, I would be dead, or at the very least have multiple felonies pending. If he wouldn't have been there, I feel there is a good chance I would have managed to kill myself somehow inside my apartment. Again, it's not like I wanted to be dead, the only way I can describe it is Inception-esque. I knew I needed to die to wake up... that will haunt me for a long time. I feel terrible for what I put him through, especially as he is a Marine who served a tour in Iraq. I mean, fuck it, what's one more shitty image burned in your mind :-( . I owe him for being there, and I will try and find a way to repay that before my life is over. This right here is the closest I have come to tearing up writing this. I don't really care what I did to myself, but what I did to my family is beyond fucked up.
I took one tylenol pm capsule to sleep a few nights after. I woke up in the middle of the night and almost freaked the fuck out. I felt the tiniest bit similiar to a trip, and almost lost my shit. Like PTSD style. I don't believe I will even attempt to smoke marijuana again for a good while.
I have typed this up, not to brag, or to tell a story to encourage people to do ANYTHING similiar to what I have done. I just feel a responsiblity to reiterate the dangers of taking mind-altering substances, much less mixing them in the types of dosages I did that night. If I can encourage just one person to put your shit down when you get the "I really shouldn't dose this right now" feeling, this will have been worth it. This website has helped me a lot over the years, and I believe it's message of HARM REDUCTION is extremely important. I am attempting to do my part. I feel if I don't share my experience, it would be extremely selfish of me.
PLEASE consider using an experienced trip-sitter as well. I was the type that always said "fuck it, I'd rather trip alone", plus I didn't know anyone who could sit for me. If, at any point in my life, I EVER touch anything like this again, you best belive I will have someone there with me. I feel at this point though, that even thinking about that is like spitting in the face of the 87th chance I've received to live a good, happy life. I'm taking this chance and running with it. I would encourage anyone out there "looking for answers", to be honest with yourself and realize when you are just looking to see how fucked up you can get. Take my example and realize, sometimes it's just not worth it.
Tagged by Xorkoth
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substancecode_phenethylamines
substancecode_mxe
substancecode_achs
substancecode_dissociatives
substancecode_4acodmt
substancecode_tryptamines
_combo_
explevel_firsttime
exptype_negative
exptype_healthissues
exptype_disaster
roacode_oral
roacode_nasal
roacode_rectal
I am writing this in the hopes that my experience can help, if only just one person, to make a more educated decision than I did a few weeks ago. I have been involved with drugs for about eight years prior to this experience, and far and away this was the dumbest shit I have ever done. A few years back, I had quit using alcohol, stimulants, and recreational pharmaceutical usage. A few weeks prior to this experience, I had made the decision to end my daily usage of marijuana. I had (and still do not have) a desire to never use marijuana again, I had just decided that eight years of daily usuage was enough for me. There are more important things in life than being high all the time. I had basically turned my life around, for the first time in a long time my family was proud of me, and more importantly I was proud of myself. I was (and still am) doing extremely well in school, and am on track to advance and double my yearly salary in my job at the next six to twelve months. I came so close to throwing all that away it sickens me. As I have read before, "If you've got the message, it's time to hang up the phone". Well trust me, I've heard the message loud and clear, and consider the phone disconnected and thrown through out window.
Early in the day, around 9am, I took ~20mgs MXE sublingually and went to a football game. Nothing to speak of, as I have been using MXE at least weekly for the past month and a half or so. I plan on dosing 4-AcO-DMT for the first time later in the day, and at this point I am hoping there isn't any lessening of the AcO's affect due to the MXE.
I get home around 430PM, and take a small ~1mg allergy test of the 4-AcO-DMT. I spend the next hour and a half or so cleaning my house and whatnot. I feel no ill affects from the allergy test. I belive I weigh around 25mg-30mg of the AcO and dose it sublingually. I can't recall at this point. I am hard-headed it seems, both literally and figuratively, and do not want to have an underwhelming trip as I do not have too many opportunities to trip due to my schedule. I don't really want to overdo it either, but figure "fuck it", which WAS unfortunatly my mindset a lot of times. The affects of the AcO are not really the point of this report, suffice it to say it was underwhelming for me. I wait a little too long to redose, maybe a little over an hour, and snort ~11mg if I remember correctly. Possibly a slight improvement, but not really. Realize anything else would be a waste of the small amount I have, and decide no more.
At this point I am hit with the knowledge (it's strange, but sometimes it would feel like I KNEW how/that addition of chemicals would put me where I wanted), that if I were to take some 2c-e I would be where I wanted to be. Now I haven't ever taken 2c-e at this point, but as I mentioned earlier I am hard-headed (and a fucking idiot). I also knew my brother was possibly comming to stay with me later that night and didn't want to out of it when he got there, so I got it in my head to wait and dose 2c-e, 4-AcO-DMT, and MXE later.
My brother doesn't arrive at my house until after 12AM, and the 4-AcO-DMT affects are completely down at this point. Now, the intelligent part of me is saying, just smoke a fucking bowl and go to sleep you idiot. Unfortunatly, the part of me that is trying to "figure out some shit real quick before school starts again in a month" knows I won't have too many opportunities with my work schedule, and I have a few chemicals I just really wanted to try so. Before he arrives at my house, I have prepared a solution for rectal dosing of all three chemicals. I want to say maybe around 8-10mg 2c-E, 30mg MXE, and 17-20mg 4-AcO-DMT. This was a little less than two weeks ago, and my memory is fading on the exact dosage, but that is fairly close.
I stay up talking with him until maybe 2AM, then dose the solution rectally. This is not even the part where shit goes south, this was actually pretty fucking awesome. I was starting to get some strange visuals when looking at a picture on my phone. I was looking at a picture of a female, and it's like the picture scrambled and I saw/felt what could have been our whole life together just hyperscramble on my phone. Like image after image after image in superspeed. I couldn't really make out anything visually, but it was an impression that I felt.
I just remember laying in bed thinking "ALMOST, this is ALMOST what I'm looking for tonight." I get it in my head that I need just a TAD (5-7mg 2c-e) and I will be good. I am on it pretty heavily at this point though, and I end up laying in bed for a few hours I belive. I'm not really sure, I don't recall much of that trip except for what I allready mentioned, as what I am about to tell you significantly overwhelms anything else that happened that day.
At some point, I get up and decide I am going to take another rectal dose, this time with 2c-e, 2c-c, MXE and 4-AcO-DMT. It takes forever because I keep losing track of what I am doing, and do not have the solution prepared until almost 6AM. I end up using ~15mg 2c-e, 30-35mg 2c-c, most likely ~20mg 4-AcO-DMT, and (this is where I fucked up, well actually the whole thing was a fucked up. The 2c-c potentiated the 2c-e to where I feel I may as well have taken 25-30mg 2c-e and felt none of the 2c-c) at least 60mg MXE. My thinking was the MXE would just lock me in straight bed mode, and I would be able to sleep (with the help of a little xanax) in less than two hours. In actuallity, the MXE just caused me to have PCP freakout style strength shortly.
I remember looking in the mirror and KNOWING this was a bad idea. I said "fuck it" like always though, and figured I would take a 2mg xanax bar if it got too bad. I had broken 1/4 off a bar and put it next to my bed (just to ease to sleep), and left more in a pillbottle in my dresser (mistake).
It didn't take maybe 15-20 minutes before I started to get way overwhelmed. I had so many crazy thoughts and experiences in the next 45ming-1hr I can't remember which started to come first. There is no way I will be able to remember everything, and honestly I really do not want too. At one point I am laying in bed, and can't move. I feel as though I'm stuck in this bad dream and will never be able to wake up, in effect I broke my brain. While I realize I took chemicals (sort of), I can't comprehend the fact that this experience will be over at any point. I keep telling myself that if I can make it to 7am (not sure why) when the light would come in my window I would be allright. I think I was flashing back to a mushroom trip where I thought I was dead, and during that trip I realized I was alive when the light started to come in.
At some point I realized I could move, but this was actually a bad thing. I remember thinking I fucked up my anus somehow, and kept trying to take a shit. I kept seeing myself covered in feces. I also having like quick 2 second flashes, where I thought I was running throughout my house spreading the shit everywhere or something similiar. I wondered how my brother hadn't woken up (he was sleeping in my living room. 1 bedroom apartment) and why he wasn't pissed. At this point I should have asked for help, but unfortunatly he has NO experience with drugs or anything of this nature. I had also told him that under no circumstance was he ever to call an ambulance for me, even if I begged. I also had no desire to call an ambulance for myself, the thought never crossed my mind I don't think.
Shortly, I began to have really fucked up realizations about 2012. The world was comming to an end shortly blahblah. Then I realized I was in fact some type of undercover angel awaiting lucifer's rise to lead the battle of good and evil. Also, when I was stuck and couldn't move, I thought I had frozen into a buddha statue and was doomed to be like this for a millenia. At some point these delusions all criss-crossed eachother, and I was really reallly starting to freak the fuck out.
I'm not sure how exactly, but I woke up my brother at some point. I had the impression of being stuck in some super secret spy adventure, and my programming was malfunctioning, and I was visualising flashing back and forth between my current state and my REAL state ala tom cruise in mission impossible when he is swinging from the huge building in China or whatever to get the claw thing. I literally thought I had to WAKE UP or I would be dead in my spy state. I start beating my head with my fist trying to snap out of it, so I could snap into my spy state and continue doing whatever I was doing. I then literally begin to band my head against the wall (there are huge dents in my wall, and I had to get 5 staples to stop the bleeding). I wish to God I had knocked myself out then. At some point my brother comes in and keeps telling me to go back to sleep. I then begin to think he is another undercover angel, and he keeps telling me to go back to sleep because I will blow our cover.
Possibly, if he would have begun stressing to me at this point that i was tripping, and to calm the fuck down and take some benzos, I would have been okay. I belive I took the 1/4 xanax by my bed, but I couldn't manage to find the bottle with more in it, and I don't think they would have taken affect soon enough anyway. Unfortunatly, as mentioned, my brother has no drug experience, and had no fucking clue all the shit I was taking. He doesn't really approve, but he knows I do my thing. The fact that he did none of these things, and just kept telling me to calm down and go to sleep fed my delusion of being some kind of undercover spy/angel. I would try and lay down, but my thoughts/pictures were flashing through my mind at such a rapid pace i couldn't lay down for long.
Shortly after this I come to the conclusion that I have died/am God/become the buddha and I am free to do what I want in the world. This leads to me punching out the top two rows of panes in my second story window as I plan to climb out and commense doing whatever the fuck I want. My brother hears the glass breaking and comes in. I am overcome with the CERTAINTY that I have passed some kind of test/assended to some other level and I have to FIGHT past him to get what is mine. So I proceed to fight my brother off, climb over two rows of unbroken window panes and jump out of my second floor apartment window around 715-730AM.
I don't remember exactly, but I feel as if I'm in Inception as well. I had to die to wake up, or at least knock myself the fuck out. I belive that when I jumped, I turned myself sideways and tried to land flat on my side in an effort to knock myself out/kill myself. Just completely relaxed, because I KNEW this was what I needed to do. So in actuallity, anyone watching would have seen a guy jump out the window in an obvious effort to kill himself.
The next part really starts to become a blur. My brother tells me he thought I was dead, and I assume he sprinted out my door and downstairs to get me. I belive people must have seen me, because there are 3/4/5 men around me fairly quickly. I have landed in someones little fenced in patio area by our parking lot. They keep telling me to chill, lay down and chill. I think they are OTHER people who have assended and can do whatever the fuck they want as well. I think they are telling me to relax before I spoil it and "regular" people find out about us. I have no clue what kind of nonsense I am babbling at this point to them. As before, I lay still for a while, til my mind takes over and I fight them off and keep trying to break through the fence. Since I can do whatever I want, I am looking for a female, and I'm like "fuck you guys, nah I'm going to do whatever I want now."
Eventually an ambulance shows up and I'm taken to the closest hospital. For the next hour or two I am still convined I am a secret spy or some shit.
I keep telling all the people to fuck off and let me up, they don't have to hide the secret anymore. Once in the hospital I start to realize how bad I fucked up. I fight it though, because at this point I am realizing I ruined my life. I start to hope this is just a bad dream and I am going to wake up soon. I remember the last rectal solution I took, and my heart is literally sinking. At this point I want to die, as I have ruined everything I have worked so hard for over the past few years.
I remember them asking me which hurt more, my head or my hip, and I sullenly mumbled neither. They said "fine have it your way" and put five or six staples in my head. At this point I feel I deserve any pain I feel so fuck it. They keep telling me to piss in a bottle, and I tell them no, they aren't testing me for fucking drugs. As fucked as I still am, I refuse to admit I was on anything. I won't tell them shit about shit. I can't think clearly, but am terrified of them making me turn into a snitch. They tell me the pee is not for that, it's to make sure I didn't mess up my kidneys and I will have to have a catheter if I refuse. I figure I deserve the pain so bring it on. I never got a catheter, I think they realized I had no insurance and had me stabalized so they left me alone.
Laying there in a dark hospital room completely alone realizing fully what I had done was the worst feeling I've ever felt in my entire life. My father and brother came in and I wouldn't even look at them. I refused to talk to anyone or tell anyone anything for a good while.
Long story short, I was transfered to another hospital in the city. I am BLESSED to live in a large city, where a doctor at another hospital offered to perform the surgery needed to fix my fractured hip. Aside from a few cuts and bruises, a fractured hip was my only injury from leaping from my second story window. The docteres seemed confounded as to how I fractured my hip in such a serious way, without sustaining any other injuries. My brother insist (and I belive him, he says the image is burned in his mind until he dies... I feel terrible), that I landed on the opposite side as my fractured hip, which makes it even stranger.
I was in the hospital for a few days before I had the surgery. Eight days later, I am walking without crutches. I still use one if I plan on walking a longer distance than say, around the house. My poor family thought I had legitimatly tried to kill myself for a few hours. I felt so shitty and stupid as many of my relatives came to visit me in ICU. I finally admit to them what happened, although I never admit anything to any doctors. Actually, I have to tell one psychiatrist so I am not commited to a psych hospital, but make it very general and name no chemicals.
It is less than two weeks since this happened, and I feel at about 85% strength, and I belive I will be walking fine in a week or two. I feel so absolutely blessed to be alive, and to have the support of my family. It's strange, it's almost like it's not even that big of a deal. I guess I had turned my life around so much, it's almost like they just accept this for what it is. I told them I was just trying to figure out some stuff in my head, not to escape or because I was crazy and depressed like years ago, and pushed it too far and lost my shit.
All I know, is someone or something is looking out for me, and wants me to do something with my life. I've known this for a while, I've had a few experiences over the years that have let me know this. When I was a child, I had a total stranger (this is before google and instant info assess) come up to me in a city two states away from my home with intimate knowledge of my life. (I am paraphrashing but)They told me that God had a plan for me, and when everything was horrible and I couldn't see a way out, to have faith because I have something important to do before my life is over. They asked for permission to pray over me as well.
All I know is I'm hanging up the fucking phone. I've used up my three strikes, nine lives, what have you. I would be a fool to touch any psychedelic chemicals for a very very verrrrrrrrrrry long time. I feel at this time I have no more knowledge to gain through this route, and it's time to live my fucking life.
Also, if it were not for my brother, I would be dead, or at the very least have multiple felonies pending. If he wouldn't have been there, I feel there is a good chance I would have managed to kill myself somehow inside my apartment. Again, it's not like I wanted to be dead, the only way I can describe it is Inception-esque. I knew I needed to die to wake up... that will haunt me for a long time. I feel terrible for what I put him through, especially as he is a Marine who served a tour in Iraq. I mean, fuck it, what's one more shitty image burned in your mind :-( . I owe him for being there, and I will try and find a way to repay that before my life is over. This right here is the closest I have come to tearing up writing this. I don't really care what I did to myself, but what I did to my family is beyond fucked up.
I took one tylenol pm capsule to sleep a few nights after. I woke up in the middle of the night and almost freaked the fuck out. I felt the tiniest bit similiar to a trip, and almost lost my shit. Like PTSD style. I don't believe I will even attempt to smoke marijuana again for a good while.
I have typed this up, not to brag, or to tell a story to encourage people to do ANYTHING similiar to what I have done. I just feel a responsiblity to reiterate the dangers of taking mind-altering substances, much less mixing them in the types of dosages I did that night. If I can encourage just one person to put your shit down when you get the "I really shouldn't dose this right now" feeling, this will have been worth it. This website has helped me a lot over the years, and I believe it's message of HARM REDUCTION is extremely important. I am attempting to do my part. I feel if I don't share my experience, it would be extremely selfish of me.
PLEASE consider using an experienced trip-sitter as well. I was the type that always said "fuck it, I'd rather trip alone", plus I didn't know anyone who could sit for me. If, at any point in my life, I EVER touch anything like this again, you best belive I will have someone there with me. I feel at this point though, that even thinking about that is like spitting in the face of the 87th chance I've received to live a good, happy life. I'm taking this chance and running with it. I would encourage anyone out there "looking for answers", to be honest with yourself and realize when you are just looking to see how fucked up you can get. Take my example and realize, sometimes it's just not worth it.
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