GolemGolem
Bluelighter
- Joined
- Sep 6, 2011
- Messages
- 829
I've had quite a few bad trips since the mid 90s, but I've never had a complete screaming shit flip until now. Never ended up in the hospital except for one benzo blackout many years ago.
I had the DPT for months, and I had taken it up to 100mgs with over 100mgs of MXE and never got more than a + plus M hole. So I figured 120mg DPT and the last ~50mg MXE (next to nothing with my tolerance) outta my bag would be a ++ or so, maybe if I'm lucky a lightish +++. That is not what happened so without further ado here it is as best I remember.
Mixed it all up and snorted, sat back, put on some tunes.
Think that laying in bed would be a good idea so that is what I do.
I lose a little time here, next thing I remember is being in Hell.
The flames cooked the flesh from my bones over and over again, and each time, as soon as I thought i was dead I was reset to burn again. Every nerve felt every flame and I screamed. A lot. Continuously.
I have few brief flashes of being in my room and my wife asking what is wrong and what should she do. She gets our old roommate who is an EMT and he asks what to do and all I can do is scream. Mostly I'm in hell being burnt, get my first glimpse of God who presented himself as an flaming black hole at a great distance.
Black out again.
(Apparently they couldn't get a gurney into our bedroom so they had to drag my screaming ass out to the front in my underwear, remember kids, wear the quality undergarments when you do risky things, I didn't)
I come to breifly in the ambulance and I have enough presence of mind to beg for death, cry, and suggest a hunting accident would be a good way to do it. It's 8 or 9pm but it is blindingly light outside the ambulances windows. God follows us and then takes me out and shows me what it is like to be him comprehending everything at once, but I cannot comprehend everyone's everything at once and the effect is the same as burning in the fires of hell but more confusing. I guess that qualifies as a unempowering ++++. God spits me out and it hurts as I'm crushed by his gravity leaving me in the ER.
Next time I come to I'm in a ER bed, I'm able to tell them what I took, and how much. They have no fucking clue what either one of those drugs are. I continue to ask to be killed, I suggest a hunting accident again, and remembering where I am, a od of barbiturates. I get an IV and I start to swing to another peak.
The doctors become aliens, like stereotypical greys except for their exposed pulsing rainbow veins, then suddenly I'm at Gitmo. The doctors are from the CIA, I'm being interrogated, the room is bright white and a huge light is shining on me, everything hurts, explosions are heard. The Chinese adulterated the MXE and now I was a bomb, the CIA knew something was wrong but they didn't believe me, and refused to have the bomb squad called in to detonate me safely.
I become more aware that I'm at the hospital again and they ask me to pee. I'm agitated, and dry as a stone so it came out wrong when I tried to tell them that it was a lost cause and they we're going to hafta cath me anyway if they wanted a sample, but I told them what I took. and so on. So I sugest maybe if I could stand up for a bit, hug my wife and start apologizing to her maybe I could but it's doubtful, they allow it. Wife's mom and the preacher's wife is there, I want to talk but now is not the time... pee ain't gonna happen and they make me get back on the bed.
Swing back up:
The doctors are now David Ickle brand reptillians, they know nothing good would ever come from the contaminated seed in my balls and castrate me with ruberbands and knives. it hurts at first, and I can't understand why they won't put me under if they are preforming surgery, there still doctor reptiles after all...but then just feels empty and cold. I agree with them that nothing good would ever spring from my loins and I spend far to much time thinking about sex if that's the case, sooner or later an accident would happen, I'm ok with it.
Come to again, quite surprised to figure out that I still have my genitals, that was the cath, I tested positive for PCP and speed, I tell them that that makes sense, but if they felt like testing further they could and it would show what I've been saying. Did they even have a test for ketamine? (no) They leave me with a nurse, she seems sweet and I tell her I was in nursing school once, but dropped out after realizing I'd have to deal with people like me and worse all day long, and apologize. Fuck those doctors though., she laughs and gives me a nice, sad, smile.
Swing back up one last time, God returns again as a black hole, and gets near and starts crushing me and I pray and He's a bit more gentle a bout things, I have flashes of a bunch of memories and he's off wherever He goes and I'm more or less down, the doctors stumble in grumpily give me 4mg Xanax in the IV and admit me to be observed overnight.
Xanax wears off and I'm up in a nice private room and start trying to explain myself to my wife, and why I didn't tell her I was going to trip that night, on a work night no less (really expecting a ++ isn't a good thing to say in that circumstance). She's quite right and I don't fight her when she says she's throwing out my stash and scales and never again, though I've been mentioning that I'd like to trip again in the future and now that she's not so rattled I think it'll be ok when it's time. She's awesome and I was a fucking dick for putting her through that.
Also surprised for as horrible as that all was I'm not feeling to terribly effected. Nothing major to intergrate, no ptsd/psycosis symptoms. Little more God fearing, but I'm not feeling any desire to go to church or anything. So yeah, here I am.
I had the DPT for months, and I had taken it up to 100mgs with over 100mgs of MXE and never got more than a + plus M hole. So I figured 120mg DPT and the last ~50mg MXE (next to nothing with my tolerance) outta my bag would be a ++ or so, maybe if I'm lucky a lightish +++. That is not what happened so without further ado here it is as best I remember.
Mixed it all up and snorted, sat back, put on some tunes.
Think that laying in bed would be a good idea so that is what I do.
I lose a little time here, next thing I remember is being in Hell.
The flames cooked the flesh from my bones over and over again, and each time, as soon as I thought i was dead I was reset to burn again. Every nerve felt every flame and I screamed. A lot. Continuously.
I have few brief flashes of being in my room and my wife asking what is wrong and what should she do. She gets our old roommate who is an EMT and he asks what to do and all I can do is scream. Mostly I'm in hell being burnt, get my first glimpse of God who presented himself as an flaming black hole at a great distance.
Black out again.
(Apparently they couldn't get a gurney into our bedroom so they had to drag my screaming ass out to the front in my underwear, remember kids, wear the quality undergarments when you do risky things, I didn't)
I come to breifly in the ambulance and I have enough presence of mind to beg for death, cry, and suggest a hunting accident would be a good way to do it. It's 8 or 9pm but it is blindingly light outside the ambulances windows. God follows us and then takes me out and shows me what it is like to be him comprehending everything at once, but I cannot comprehend everyone's everything at once and the effect is the same as burning in the fires of hell but more confusing. I guess that qualifies as a unempowering ++++. God spits me out and it hurts as I'm crushed by his gravity leaving me in the ER.
Next time I come to I'm in a ER bed, I'm able to tell them what I took, and how much. They have no fucking clue what either one of those drugs are. I continue to ask to be killed, I suggest a hunting accident again, and remembering where I am, a od of barbiturates. I get an IV and I start to swing to another peak.
The doctors become aliens, like stereotypical greys except for their exposed pulsing rainbow veins, then suddenly I'm at Gitmo. The doctors are from the CIA, I'm being interrogated, the room is bright white and a huge light is shining on me, everything hurts, explosions are heard. The Chinese adulterated the MXE and now I was a bomb, the CIA knew something was wrong but they didn't believe me, and refused to have the bomb squad called in to detonate me safely.
I become more aware that I'm at the hospital again and they ask me to pee. I'm agitated, and dry as a stone so it came out wrong when I tried to tell them that it was a lost cause and they we're going to hafta cath me anyway if they wanted a sample, but I told them what I took. and so on. So I sugest maybe if I could stand up for a bit, hug my wife and start apologizing to her maybe I could but it's doubtful, they allow it. Wife's mom and the preacher's wife is there, I want to talk but now is not the time... pee ain't gonna happen and they make me get back on the bed.
Swing back up:
The doctors are now David Ickle brand reptillians, they know nothing good would ever come from the contaminated seed in my balls and castrate me with ruberbands and knives. it hurts at first, and I can't understand why they won't put me under if they are preforming surgery, there still doctor reptiles after all...but then just feels empty and cold. I agree with them that nothing good would ever spring from my loins and I spend far to much time thinking about sex if that's the case, sooner or later an accident would happen, I'm ok with it.
Come to again, quite surprised to figure out that I still have my genitals, that was the cath, I tested positive for PCP and speed, I tell them that that makes sense, but if they felt like testing further they could and it would show what I've been saying. Did they even have a test for ketamine? (no) They leave me with a nurse, she seems sweet and I tell her I was in nursing school once, but dropped out after realizing I'd have to deal with people like me and worse all day long, and apologize. Fuck those doctors though., she laughs and gives me a nice, sad, smile.
Swing back up one last time, God returns again as a black hole, and gets near and starts crushing me and I pray and He's a bit more gentle a bout things, I have flashes of a bunch of memories and he's off wherever He goes and I'm more or less down, the doctors stumble in grumpily give me 4mg Xanax in the IV and admit me to be observed overnight.
Xanax wears off and I'm up in a nice private room and start trying to explain myself to my wife, and why I didn't tell her I was going to trip that night, on a work night no less (really expecting a ++ isn't a good thing to say in that circumstance). She's quite right and I don't fight her when she says she's throwing out my stash and scales and never again, though I've been mentioning that I'd like to trip again in the future and now that she's not so rattled I think it'll be ok when it's time. She's awesome and I was a fucking dick for putting her through that.
Also surprised for as horrible as that all was I'm not feeling to terribly effected. Nothing major to intergrate, no ptsd/psycosis symptoms. Little more God fearing, but I'm not feeling any desire to go to church or anything. So yeah, here I am.