That last post and link to wikipedia, hearing voices movement has been most helpful
Its thursday today, and im still trying to get a grip on whats going on. The voice, has been mostly neutral, still is making small comments as I go about the day.
I should go back to the beginning of this story. As I kinda started things off midway.
It really all started after last weekends electronic dance festival. I consumed aprox 400-600mgs of MDMA+MDA thru-out the night (I know the typical dosage of MDMA is 125mgs, and what I did was borderline reckless.) Along with several really good hits of blotter.
I had the most amazing time at the festival, I remember seeing huge flashes of lights, and halos around everything. Complex, geometric fractal-faced todom pole like deites sprouting from the dancefloor. Felt like I could bend lazer beams like spagetti noodles, as I danced the night away, feeling, like I was some kind of messiah, standing at the controls of the universe, channeling overwhelming amounts of occultic/psionic power through every neural synapse in my mind. The music shook every atom in my being and things just flowed.
I coulding say anything else but, OMG im rolling so hard, OMGOMG. and as the night went, self control was being lost everytime the dirty dirty bass dropped, Id just say fuck it, I dont want this to stop and would pop another.
Towards the end of the night things started turning really ugly. I went to the bathroom and looked at myself in the mirror, and to my horror, My lips looked like they were turning blue/purple. My eyes looked dreay and tired, with bags under them. The voice then started laughing and kept telling me that I was a drug addict,, crackhead and dirty raver, and a really manic and evil tone, I said this was the last night I have on earth, that I was going to die tonight, that I was not supposed or ready to reach or touch that level of consciousness, that I had overstepped my bounds as a human being, that I had somehow interfered with the plans of the "archtect of the universe" Like the man who, stole fire from the greek gods.
I started to panic and asking other ppl in the mens bathroom, "OMG AM I TURNING PURPLE?? Please help am I turning purple??? AM I MOTHAFUCKIN changing colors??"
Most smiled, others laughed, some re-assured me that I was the correct color. I know this sounds funny to somebody sober, But I was dead-panicing that night.
After the whole bathroom incident, the party was towards the end, and it the time where, everybody is still tweeked/rolling/tripping, and frantically looking for after parties.
This one man, and his friends who for the past week has been texting me, and asking things like, do you think my facebook pic is cute, are you gay, if your not, wouuld you go gay for me...ect just really perverted things. He was at the party, and now as everybody is leaving, im stitting by a large industrial fan cooling down and waiting for my friends, who are nowhere to be found. This dude comes up with his friends and asked if I want to go to an afterparty with them, telling me they have more drugs, they are gonna hire strippers, how big and nice their place is ect.... (Im a salesman, I can smell a pitch, or ulterior motive from a mile away)
I told em yeah, Ill be right back I just have to find a few people. Now im really paniced, because, if i run into them, I wont have an excuse, to leave.
Now im crashing hard really hard, but Im still tripping and The voice really starts tearing at me, just attacking every insecurity I have. Telling me how I'm going to go broke, it said it was watching me dance the whole time, that I was really good at it. And that if I go broke atleast I can be a gogo-boy strip for money. (Im really insure about money, because in sales it comes in chunks and then there are really dry peroids)
I love to dance, just for my own pleasure, I like being in my own zone and the thought of stripping for money just felt crippling inside. The voice said I deserved it and how I was ruining other ppls lives with my recklessness (My friend got 5 tickets the night before the rave, for some really really reckless driving, that i happend to encourage. I was sticking my head out the passenger window with her kissing a girl passionatly in the blistering wind, at 100+mph, weaving in and out of traffic.)
The worst part was when it felt everybody was in on it. Frantically pacing back and forwards through the venue, it felt like I could hear everybody's thoughts and they all had terrible things to say, just really dirty perverted things about me. It wasnt just the one voice, IT WAS EVERYBODY.
Part of me knew that this was to to drugs. and that it wasnt real, I just kept my mouth shut, and finally found my friends and went home.
But this week, I cant stop going over the events, and even as I type this now, the voice would point little things out about the room, or my laptop, or the way the keyboard felt ect...
I suppose I must try to live with it, as its not going away anytime soon.