agnetha
Bluelighter
Yesterday, I started the evening by ingesting 70mg 2C-P on an empty stomach. Oh, and I chased it with plenty of fresh grapefruit juice.
This wasn't done intentionally, there was no super masochistical suicide scheme behind this. Just a stupid mix-up between two types of white powder.
At the time I realized the massive overdose I took (regrettably 45mins later), strong effects of the chemical already began to manifest.
It took a huge effort to stay coherent enough to call an ambulance, and convey what I had done. The hospital where they brought me had never seen a poisoning like this. I was the drug-overdose freak of the month, everybody came to take a look. They were unsure what do do, but at least had sense enough to call some toxicologists at the capitol.
They of course mistook 2C-P with 2C-B, but I was to far gone to correct them. It made no difference anyhow. Uncontrollable muscle tremors in my lower extremeties were the most pronounced side effect at this time.
They moved me to an ER where I was stuffed with more tubes and medical gear than I could count. The experience meanwhile had excelled a solid +++ on the shulgin scale. So the procedures the staff had to perfom on me weren't just painful and uncomfortable, no, they were terrorizing and unsufferable due to the influence of the chemical. It took a long while before I mercifully lost consciousness.
I awoke the next day, still attached to an impressive machine park at the ER. During the day they plugged me out, cleaned me up, and released me after a psychiatrist looked me over -against their specific advice- into the hands of a trusted friend.
I could have died, but I didn't. Doc says, my kindeys and liver made it, probably without too much damage, how my brain did is anybodies guess. Longterm damage of course has to be assessed but I doubt there will be much.
What did I learn from this? What can you learn from this little tale? I don't know, although some obvious conclusions come to mind...
This wasn't done intentionally, there was no super masochistical suicide scheme behind this. Just a stupid mix-up between two types of white powder.
At the time I realized the massive overdose I took (regrettably 45mins later), strong effects of the chemical already began to manifest.
It took a huge effort to stay coherent enough to call an ambulance, and convey what I had done. The hospital where they brought me had never seen a poisoning like this. I was the drug-overdose freak of the month, everybody came to take a look. They were unsure what do do, but at least had sense enough to call some toxicologists at the capitol.
They of course mistook 2C-P with 2C-B, but I was to far gone to correct them. It made no difference anyhow. Uncontrollable muscle tremors in my lower extremeties were the most pronounced side effect at this time.
They moved me to an ER where I was stuffed with more tubes and medical gear than I could count. The experience meanwhile had excelled a solid +++ on the shulgin scale. So the procedures the staff had to perfom on me weren't just painful and uncomfortable, no, they were terrorizing and unsufferable due to the influence of the chemical. It took a long while before I mercifully lost consciousness.
I awoke the next day, still attached to an impressive machine park at the ER. During the day they plugged me out, cleaned me up, and released me after a psychiatrist looked me over -against their specific advice- into the hands of a trusted friend.
I could have died, but I didn't. Doc says, my kindeys and liver made it, probably without too much damage, how my brain did is anybodies guess. Longterm damage of course has to be assessed but I doubt there will be much.
What did I learn from this? What can you learn from this little tale? I don't know, although some obvious conclusions come to mind...

