Brace yourself for quite a long comment here. The first half is regarding the actual physiological experience and my observations. The second half is actually regarding my reconstructed memory of what happened over those days of my MDPV speed trip into screaming bloody delirium.
Thanks for all the good tips and discussions. Yeah this is fuckin amazingly terrible but there actually has been some very slight improvement since the last post, i venture to say this comedown, if that's indeed what it is, is worse than heroin withdrawal for sure. I would take a 2-gram daily heroin W/D over this any day, at least during that w/d you still know who you are the whole time and are aware of your surroundings.
This withdrawal is causing a marked dissassociative effect where not only am I unable to fully understand my environment, but it also literally looks very differnt, I'm talking perpectives are WAAY off, amazingly so, sometimes to the point of warping, I am still hearing auditory hallucinations even though I am knocking myself out cold and getting good sleep with the seroquel. What has improved is the light and noise factor, they seem to have subsided in the degree of added percied loudness and irritability (or I am getting more used to it...) There is an INTENSE rumbling and rolling of nerves in the core of my chest. I think this rumbling is actually a highly rapid tremoring of nerves(or some other conduit responsive to electrical impules from the brain. It is so intense I can actually hear it in my ears like a low-level rumble of a harrier jet taking off, it's sick. Evidently it is powered by Adrenalin because the Inderal XR at VERY VERY high doses over whats prescribed is the only thing that shuts this very scary phenomenon down. Like, dudes, I really think I would die if it was allowed to continue unabated. i mean I don't know for sure but it feels like it would send my heart into a ridiculous adrenalin-fueled wave of lethal arrhythmia's or straight up cardiopulmonary collapse, or just good old fashioned cardiac arrest. Even in the very early stages of this rumble my heart starts skipping beats and "sizzling" palpitating like popcorn. Very scary to think of what might happen if I run out of Inderal. The adrenal output is really unregulated like I've never felt before, and I thought I had felt the worst of it. Damn why did sex have to feel so good on this shit.
Ok now below I'm going to elaborate on the actual cracked out sicko psycho speed trip that induced this shit on my mind.
Ok well it was probably those sweet black hookers that made me overdo it. Jeeze that kind of rough hard sex on PV was like I was dropped off in titty heavenland I must say, I mean ecstasy like nothing else I can think of and I think those poor hookers had never seen anything like PV or me before even with crack. I mean i've hit hookers on crack before and with rocks you get a better blast of pleasure/euphoria but always run out quick, and you're always runnin around like an idiot scratching at the floors for little chips, and even between hard crack hits you're comin down, but on the peev it's like a nonstop supercrack rollercoaster that keeps rising and rising and rising, I can feel tightness on my chest like the devil and all you can do is go WITH the rolling speed rush, if you dare for one second to try to go against it, holy shit thats when you will panic and have all sorts of bad bad reactions including the "terror tremors" which I will explain in greater detail below.
It's strange with speed when you're too wasted and speeding it seems like you should slow down when in reality you should actually speed up... well I mean at least that gets you though 10 minutes, and chains the link to become a binge... all you have to do is feed the fires once every 15 minutes and by the time you have been like this for around 6 to 8 hours straight, you get this intense primal urge awakened at the very basic instinctual levels in the hippo-campus to fuck anything that moves, or anything with heat and hole. I went out into public like this and it was literally dangerous, I was staring down every bitch that looked half decent to me with the full intention of taking the whore into the bathroom and tearing it up right there with no protection and no effective judgment whatsoever.
Oh yeah, judgment... gooood old judgment my friend. Well, after even a 8-hour binge your judgment has morphed into impulse, pure out-of-fuckin-control impulse. And it feels like these impulses are also coming from very primitive, raw, survivalist parts of the brain that lack any logic, and are comprised of different proportions of self-preservation, pleasure, lust, rage, and hate. Again, all the old primitive raw emotions. I think I was fucking for 48 hours straight or darn near it. The only reason I stopped was because the prick Indian who owned the crack motel came barging right in the front fuckin door, just unlocked all our shit and mozied right on in yelling at us for swindling him out of a half hour or something I could not believe it. I was very messed up from that interruption.
At one point I had this hot black hooker with amazing great fat natural tits with nice brown hotcake nips leading me around on a crack rock goose chase and as she was trying to scam my ass, dumb bitch. Man she had really worked on this scam too and refined the shit out of it like a Japanese samurai blade, like an amazing con from start to finish i coulda sword she believed every word of it, this chubby black little hooker should have been an actress, the way I finally caught her before she made off with like, every-damn-thing of mine including my fuckin car was she said she was in room 19, kept sayin it, and she was actually making room to room calls from one of her co-conspirators rooms within this crack motel, so I just totally believed she was in room 19, and she made up this long story about how her sister and her kids also lived in room 19, always talkin bout her room 19 room 19, and all this other shit she knew about in the motel, faked that she knew the people there, anyway right when she was in the middle of pulling the final heist on my speed-freaking messed up sorry lily-white ass, I had this intuition..duh yeah Soap, ya think?, so I dialed zero on the 1970's greasy bedbug covered plastic phone and asked the operator guy "what is the outside number to call room 19 please sir?" cuz I was gonna try hittin this bitch up on my cell cuz she was taking too long and my hard speed dick was goin to waste again for the 3rd time on this one, and he's like "there is no room 19!".
BLACK FUCKING TRASHGOBBLIN! came instantly to my speed-damaged impulse-mind. My sweat and skin now smelling like pure chemical peevee and it was Horrible, it seeped into everything and people could smell it from afar, even filled the tiny skank-ass hotel fuck room, made it smell even worse than the original fat ugly sex and torn hepatitis asshole smell. So I was instantly gonna go kick this bitch right in the ass into an oncoming train, I was ready to murda this bitch. Then I realized what would happen to a white man doing that in a jungle of black ghetto folk. Yeah, I would be torn to shreds and get Reginald Deny'd. Raincheck.
Man, I shoulda known something was up cuz evry time i pulled out my rock-hard speed penis she would find ways out of pleasuring me. Like she would try to change the subject or whatever and once I was like "yo get up on this bed nex to me and smoke those wack ass rocks" and she was like "ummm, nah I dunno...etc etc." garbage, I shoulda known it right there. You are a professional whore! Right! WTF is wrong with your sorry ass you're more worthless than a drug dealer with no drugs, but she was hot enough that i didn't wanna kick her loose yet and my hornbrain was on pure impulse control and god dayyyyyum those teets looked sweet. In the end, best I got outta that bitch was her takin her fat titties out and even then she was acting like she was ashamed when i grabbed on those heavy knockers and was like "wow, these are natural!(as I was squeezing these sweet melons) these are amazing!". I just can't believe I let that whore drag me along for the whole day. It was funny too cuz here I am lit like a lightning rod on The Peev and she's smoking the crack pipe, i took a good deep hit and it was nothing compared to the PV potency. I was like "here smoke some of this PV baby, it'll make you real horny", then she was like "nahhh I don't do nothin like dat" Excuuuuuuse me? a crack rock strawberyy like you has standards??? I shoulda known it was a dead drop right there and then. CLEARLY my mind was toast and this bitch was taking advantage of it. By the time I caught her sorry brown ass, she had my cell phone, wallet, bank cards, 4 bottles of pills(that i really really would have been hurting without), hard drugs, 3 tall 22-ounce cans of Molson Ice(The Molson Ice and Inderal is a precursor required to get really spun on The Peev, if you don't take those you will shit your pants and fall right off the rollercoaster and possibly end your binge and retain brain cognition, god forbid) booze in the form of 1 unopened pint of Canadian Whiskey, car keys(almost the whole car and everything else in it) including vehicle registration and plates. These downtown hookers man, i highky recommend battening everything of value down in your car trunk if you don't want these bitches stealing it, they are god damn MASTERS of the slight-of-hand. And another thing, holy lord, once you are on to their scam, these bitches turn on you like a pit-viper and then you got pimps pounding on your hotel door and believe me these downtown dirty pimps don't play around ever, they are always right at your throat and you never get a word in edgewise. These guys got a street rep to uphold after all, and best believe they will make an example of the white man any chance they get, the white man is easy pickins in those parts, who's going to protect you down there? These are the ghetto pimps of legend that will put a cigar out on your face to add to the horrid insanity and psychosis you are already embroiled in. Life is a constant battle in the ghetto, constant fight for survival down there. If you are off your guard for one second the lions are already on you. Like, I don't even remember what happened with one of the hooks but it was somethng I did or said, probably both and who knows I mighta kinda sorta kept her prisoner in my depraved speed-fueled lust-den too long. Whatever it was, she musta told her pimp cuz when I dropped her off I saw this guy coming out of my left perif and I knew the vibe was wrong. Then I just barely caught that this guy was hiding some sort of razor box cutter thing in his hand, like in the palm of his hand but hiding it, he was coming up to the window but he saw that I was staring directly at the cutter and his grip loosened because he knew he wasn't gonna get the drop on me with it, whatever the drop was. Probably gonna take my car or whatever. Or maybe give me a prison smile, I was screeching backwards with the windows now up as he was slinging obscenities about white boy this and that and don't ever come back or bla bla gonna kill ya. Funny thing is they mean it down there.
Might have been the most insane weekend of my life.
One of the strangest hallucinations I kept having when I was shackled in the dark hotel room was that there were people totally watching me and talking (with accompanying clearly audible sentences) about me through the air conditioning unit, like I thought they could somehow see in through it and I'll be damned if I didn't wholeheartedly believe they were watching and commenting on my every move. I studied and studied that thing like a true American skitzo until I felt ill because I could STILL HEAR THEM BACK THERE. At many points I decided to turn the tables on the sickos and I pulled out my cock and balls and started jacking it in their direction while saying "here, how ya like it? uh huh, not so loud now aye bitch-ass niggas! It's gettin kinda quiet now, what's seems to be the matter".
The bathroom was strage beyond belief, I could hear all sorts of noises like people breaking in and then the sound of like rats or something scurrying through the walls and ceiling and every single time as soon as I got near to the bathroom all the sounds would disappear, so in my paranoid skitzo delusional mind I believed it was all connected somehow; the people looking in through the air conditioner, the rats, the voices coming from behind what I thought was a 2-way glass mirror, they were all connected by some truly truly dark and twisted minds to break me. I'd been through worse psychosis than this so it really didn't bother me, in that state of speed-sick mind, the truly twisted and bizarre becomes the norm. For example a strange "shadow-man" totally horrifying under normal circumstances becomes just another freak in the most freaked out world you can imagine. Another example is hallucinations of people turning up in the room that should not be there were totally believable in every respect, their movement, shading, and auditory accompanyments, yet after a while I just said to myself, ya know what, if some freak is going to just show up in my hotel room unanounced, he just better be prepared for what he might see. I had to rationalize these "extra people" and "shadow people" so I could move on to more important things, name The Peev and the hookers.
On top of that I became fully convinced that the bathroom had a 2-way mirror and I could literally hear quite clear conversations they were having back there about how to defraud me. So I decided to turn the tables on those bastards and I turned off all the lights and put the sheets up on the window so it was near pitch black, at that point I could finally see them back there in silhouettes. They got really freaked out that I discovered their little devil's playpen of sadism and they clearly reacted when I pumped my fist at them back there, they moved around and they acted scared, and these fucking weirdos from beyond had been watching me for hours and hours on end, I mean, what kind of real true psychos could these freaks be? I became convinced that it was speed that twisted their minds and made them enjoy this kind of thing. I got so enraged that the rage spiked in my mind and I hit the left half of the mirror real hard with a closed outer fist, which broke it, then i peeled it up to see these sick sick demeted souls and i was ready to rip their sick heads off too, I didn't care I was so hyped out of my mind(I mean the thought of exactly what kind of brain damaged sicko would just watch somebody play with themself for hours on end was such a god-awful evil vibe that it colored the rest of the trip with a sick blackness) amazingly, there were no freaks back there at all, there was just a wall and it was yet another delusion of great power, had me firmly in it's grip.
I can't tell you how many times people were trying to break in and I could hear them talking about me. It was dozens. Also, every time I would get up to go to the bathroom, I would stare at the door knob and get frozen with a dimly lit panic, I was sure that this door was going to come bursting open with wood shards spraying all over the room. A couple times I actually was covering my eyes in case the wood shards would hit me in the face I didn't want ot get it in the eyes and go blind and be uinable to defend myself against whatever horror was closing in. Feds, SWAT, Cops, Drug Dealers, Pimps, Killers, you name it. I also can't tell you how many times I peered out of the tiny tears or holes in the cheap plastic and vinyl curtains, totally sure I was going to catch the guys trying to steal my car. There were cameras and bugs everywhere. I got bad at one point where I was literally flinching and freaking every single time I heard a thud or a door slam or whatever it was, I was sure it was an intruder of some kind with evil intentions.
There was a time when I started tasting blood pouring into my mouth from one direction, and I kept tasting this blood flow all day. Well it was totally imagined, and I was totally convinced that a bed bug had embedded itself in my upper nasal palate...uh yeah Soap, that's it.... Then later I wiped my face with a towel and there was blood all over the towel which was horrifying enough so I looked up at the room, and shit, the walls were covered in splattered blood and for a split second my mind collapsed into a black hole of sorrow because I thought I was murdered by asshole scarface-type thugs with chainsaws to make a point about the PV in their hood and I could not believe those chumps got the jump on me, and I was humiliated to die like that. Boom. snap. back to reality all in 2 seconds. That was the final wave of paranoid schizophrenic psychosis that i remember before that asshole motel owner unlocked the door again all on his own without even knocking and although he was a fucking nasty little prick with a big mouth that needed to get kicked in, he unwittingly let the sunshine into that room that was a pit of derangement and sickness. I hadn't emerged from the room for like 24 hours and I didn't even know it was daytime, the world inside that room was slowly slipping into true bloody fucking madness I'm sitting there with my pants off and my dong hanging out like a mental patient on too much haldol.
At least 3 or 4 occasions I heard a strange robotic "rainbow" sound coming from different locations withing the walls, which had to be some sort of bugging devices, I mean what the hell else could it be??? But I mean that didn't bother me too much since I was already under constant observation and videotaping to be laughed at by sicko's who buy these underground tapes of sad lost souls in ghetto motels, again, evil, just so evil, and why was I even still here anyway? The draw of the Peev was actually overriding all these fears and paranoia's and delusions. In fact the draw of the Peev was overiding my need for food and water and security as well. It overwrote just about all of my normal human requirements and severely perverted rational thought and judgment. I honestly could have been sitting in sludge in the bottom of a dark sewer covered in roaches and bacteria and if I had the peev, a hooker, and a TV with a constant flow of porn, I would be totally cool with that.
Evil was an omnipresent foe in that tiny room of perpetual mania. My God. Glad I made it out, although not entirely in one piece. I feel like I left a good piece of my sanity back there. The hookers and the pimps took some, the tweakers and geekers real or imagined took some, The rain that never was took some, The strange and frightening sounds of leaves blowing against the cheap thin door that I thought were secret pimp messages took some, the delusions that the hookers had put up signs on my door about my peevee habits took some, The paper messages passed under my door that I thought were death threats and became mortally terrified of took a chunk, and the ghosts that knocked on the walls took some. Every one of those phantoms took a chunk of it, may it rest in peace. I'll never be the same again.
MDPV - Where the fun lives...
You're definately one of my favourite posters on BL. :D
