Is it possible that DXM and 4 meo pcp would poteniate each other. Until reading it's thread I thought aMT had caused this experience I had but now it sounds much more like DXM, only I just took over 200mg of powder. I only weigh about 60kg but still...
I also had plugged (my first successful plugging - previous attempts years ago caused it to explode right out again) just over 400mg 4 meo pcp. Either before or after that I think after I orally took 50mg aMT. I'm 90% sure on this I was not in a good headstate and having a fuckup binge, I had been on the same drugs and a couple others over a few days.
I was mentally transported into a different world, it lastest only sat evening/night but felt like months or years. I didn't recognise my own flat anymore but only a few times wondered about where I actually was and how long I'd been there. It had a narrative, like a film. There were other people around (that I invented) that wanted me for something, I was either a detective or someone in the movie business with ties to REM (that was the DVD I had on loop)
I kept trying to use my mobile but got stuck on it, found myself with my eyes closed having experienced another part of the plot only to open them and be sucked out to more familar surroundings. But it would keep going on a loop. I didn't move much, just sat on my sofa, at one point I was in a family house and the Dad climbed over the back of the sofa to join us, which is impossible as my sofa is against the wall.
I don't know who any of the imaginary people were but my real mum was living in either Japan or California with my son? I sort of knew I didn't have a son so assumed I was in the future.
One of my ferrets helped me snap out of it quite a bit by escaping, I saw him on the floor and caught him and said "you don't belong in this world" then it very gradually returned to normal. Though I'd accidently turned the xbox on iwhich created a new plot where the imaginary people wanted me to do something important with my account but I couldn't sign in.
Even when that "world" wasn't going on I was fucked for days since I'd been doing at least something every day. It was a reaction to the weekend before when I ended up in hospital with multiple head injuries without any heavy drink or drugs being involved. Head injuries and fallling down for no reason seem to be "my thing" for the last 6 or so months with no explanation. I convinced myself I was doing the drugs to try and remember what happened but in all honesty it was a big "fuck off binge" and I told the doctors that as well.
Tuesday I was still a but fucked but didn't realise because I live alone. I knew I had trouble speaking, kind of a mix between a stutter and a slur, and walking but I'd attributed these to my previous accident, I had a swollen lip and since all the head injuries I'm not too steady on my feet, I fall a lot. Anyway, I had a doctors appointment with a new doctor that morning and things still fell so unreal that my normal anxiety didn't stop me getting there. This is a new doctor for me, a step up the mental health chain I've been refered to. I felt completely and utterly mad talking to her but apparently I hear she found me quite interesting and respects my interest and research into legal highs but can't do much for me if I'm taking them so much.
Nobody else would have been any the wiser had I just gone home and my brain wasn't screaming HELP. So I made my way to the Dean of Students office, they're always nice there. Everyone's nice at uni, something I feel I don't deserve and am not used to. I asked them if I could sit down for a few minutes and I must have looked awful cos they jumped up, gave me water and buiscuits and the mental health guy put me in his office and talked to me a lot and a lot on the phone. Then he wheelchaired me back over to the medical centre to see a duty doctor who was worried about me not being able to look after myself (I really can't right now) and she decided to send me to A&E to make sure I wasn't damaged. A&E would have let me go but I live alone and am not close to anyone here so I stayed the night. I quite like hospital, I feel more relaxed there than at home even if old naked men do wake me up at 6am by shaking my bed. I was still tripping a bit that night when I closed my eyes and my brain tasted of lime. On psychs it always tastes metallic.
The next day I felt like my brain was a jigsaw that had been put back together, I saw another mental health worker who also said that she can't do much while I'm hiding my real brain behind drugs. And she'd rather I did illegal ones cos at least they've been tested more, I said well someone had to take the first tab of acid. She didn't like me favouring ketamine though because its bad for the bladder but she wasn't against weed through a vaporizer (not a big pot smoker, don't like smoke).
So here I am today, flats a mess, haven't had the energy to clean it for ages so have asked for help with that because I actually HATE mess and filth. I want to kill myself but that's nothing new, the new thing is I could actually succeed now but I don't know if it'll happen or not. I know I can't live alone anymore, it makes me isolated and crazy, I spend most of my life living in my own head that I need more real world practice. I rang the medical centre today and asked what'd happen if I said I was going to kill myself, I said I couldn't right now but want to and they had a doctor ring me and talk to me for a bit. He told me to do things for me and not for others as that's where a lot of my bitterness comes from.
If I have to live I want people to actually care for me and me for them, I want to be a difference in peoples lives. I'm sick of feeling like a burden, looked after, worried about, a waste of space and people wanting me to live like that are the selfish ones. Not me wanting to end it.
Sorry this should have been a trip report or something, please move if its in the way it just came flooding out.
