This trip report involves driving while intoxicated. A foolish, irresponsible, and reprehensible behavior. I have not repeated that behavior since. I just wanted to get that out of the way, and I deserve and accept any criticism directed my way for it.
This is a long read, and I apologize in advance.
This took place a few years ago. At the time that this trip happened, my life was a trainwreck (relatively).
My girlfriend at the time, Diane, had been a long-time friend. I had always thought I was going to marry her. From the start we’d had an amazing chemistry. She was the one girl who had always loved me regardless of how much I fucked up or how fat I became. I had slept with her on occasion, cheating on my girlfriends with her, but never started the relationship for a variety of selfish reasons. On some level, I treated her like my fallback plan. I used her physically. I know now how badly this hurt her and I regret it.
From the moment we had gotten together, things had gone wrong. We had less of a connection as a couple than as friends, and there was no trust, honesty, or love. We went through the motions, but behind everything we did there was a mutual and thinly veiled contempt. We cheated and lied to each other and then said “I love you”. I grew to hate her, and thought of her as nothing but a stupid and slutty party girl. Her life would always be drinking to blackouts and taking ecstasy and being used by men for sex. Thinking about this, and how I couldn't reach the girl I thought was inside, depressed me. We had nothing in common with each other but fucking and lying.
For some reason, probably our inability to admit after six years of wanting each other that it wasn't working, we never broke up. She was planning to move soon and I was dying for that day to come so I could be free. She felt the same way. I was cheating emotionally and physically. I hated myself and I hated her. Finally, I woke her up at 4 A.M. during one of my sleepless nights, told her I knew about the cheating, and we broke off the relationship. Like a coward, I never confessed my own sins.
We still had plans to attend a fundraiser a few days later. That is when the trip occurred and changed everything.
A friend had given me two caps of 2C-T-2. He told me it was similar to ecstasy with visuals. I had never done any psychedelic but an accidental mushroom trip (don’t ask) and a low-dose cacti experience at this point in time. We were both completely psych-naive.
I was attending a fundraiser at a bowling alley with Diane. We had told no one we had broken up yet. We weren’t ready to admit the failure of our relationship to our families and friends. I think on some level, we also weren’t ready to let go of each other.
I was full of self-loathing and hate. I had slipped into a comfortable and familiar place, a mindset of self-pity and selfish faux-nihilism. I was drinking beers and planning to meet some friends in the city when the event ended. I was going to drink myself into oblivion.
Diane’s plans for going out after the event fell through, and she wanted to come out with me. We set off for the city and I was on the verge of tears. I wanted to go home, just turn the car around and just talk to her, but she said if we didn’t go to the city, she was going to go to a bar alone. I knew what that would entail. She would drink until she could barely stand up, and then someone would take her home and fuck her. I was feeling overwhelmed with a variety of emotions.
I suddenly remembered that the 2C-T-2 was in my center console. I dug it out and asked if she wanted to take it. Of course she did. I didn't really care what effect it had on me, as long as it took my mind off the sad little girl riding in the car next to me.
+0.00 (11:00 P.M.)
We each ingested a cap and followed it down with the beer I had brought into the car. As soon as the drugs entered the picture, her demeanor had changed, and the rest of the ride to the downtown went pleasantly enough.
+2.00 (1:00 A.M.)
Neither of us had felt a single thing at this point. No alerts, no nausea, nothing. We were at the bar having an enjoyable night, talking to my friends. Suddenly Diane stood up and briskly walked to the bathroom. I thought nothing of it, until she didn’t emerge for over 30 minutes.
I went to check up on her. She was projectile vomiting all over the stall. She could barely stop puking in order to talk. In addition, she could barely stand up. The drug was starting to hit, and hit hard. When she did talk, it was mostly gibberish. We’d had no more than five beers over the course of the entire day and night. This was not alcohol. This was something else.
I got her out of the bathroom but she could not walk. I essentially carried her to the table where my friends were. We all agreed she needed to go home, but how could I drive her? While I had not yet felt a single effect, I was terrified that I too would suddenly go from 0-60 as she had, except while driving!
We got her into a booth and waited until the bar was about to close. I still felt nothing. I decided that my capsule must have been bunk, and we carried her into my car.
+3.00 (2:00 A.M.)
She was hanging out of my passenger window, dry heaving and dripping spittle all over the side of my truck. I stopped at a 24/7 Walgreens and got her some garbage bags to puke in. She started to calm down and quit puking as we got onto the highway and headed home.
Suddenly she bolted upright from her hunched over position and exclaimed that it was snowing outside and even inside my truck! This was impossible, as it was May. I know now it was fractals from the golden street lights lining the highway that she was seeing.
She started giggling uncontrollably while looking at me. She said I had a moustache and a full rat-tail. She pulled at my shirt. “What year was this made? It looks old. It’s from 1970! What year is it?” From that point on, she was convinced that everything felt and looked like it was from the 1970’s. She knew we weren’t time traveling, but she said it felt like it.
At some point, she proclaimed “I LOVE DRUGS” while pressing her face against the window. This upset me for a variety of reasons. I put on a mix CD I had in the car in order to get my mind off of her.
I was still feeling no effects.
+3.30 (2:30 A.M.)
I was driving along feeling completely baseline when the Thin White Duke remix of Friendly Fires’ “Jump in the Pool” came on. At the start of the song, a sound effect like a plane flying by in the distance, or some ocean waves, fades in and out. As soon as I heard this effect, I felt like someone had poured ice water on my head and it was dripping slowly over every inch of my skin, all the way down to my toes. It was heavenly. My hair stood up on end. As the song built, I began to feel an incredible energy building up inside.
I must have played that song a hundred times that night. To this day, I shiver when I hear it.
I knew I shouldn’t be driving, but there weren’t any cars on the road and the moon and stars were out. The music sounded amazing. I was connecting to every lyric. I didn’t want to change anything. I didn’t want to stop the car, stop the music, I didn’t want to change a single element. I wanted to exist in this moment for eternity. I kept driving. I felt like I was rolling slightly, but a little different - a little more alien.
I entered a weird headspace. I had a slight pressure in my head, but it wasn’t unpleasant. I felt like I was at once in-tune with my emotions, but simultaneously detached from them. I could analytically examine every part of my life and psyche without being overwhelmed by an emotional response. I had no visuals of any kind at this point, or for the rest of the experience.
We giggled and laughed with each other. We danced to the music. We talked and talked. We were honest and open in a way we had never been to this date. I felt that every lyric spoke how I felt about her. A remix of Daft Punk’s Face to Face came on, and I thought the line “It’s my pride that made me distant, all because I hoped that you’d be someone different” was the most profound thing I’d ever heard. I thought it was written exclusively for us.
I wanted to talk about us, about our relationship and lives, but she wasn’t in a state of mind for that. We pulled off the highway and went to a McDonald’s. The drive-through had a pre-recorded message asking if you wanted an apple pie or some shit. Then after it played, a grown man asked to take our order. This completely blew her mind. She thought that a small asian woman had morphed into a large black man. She took my coat and got onto the floor and tried to cover herself. She didn’t want to be seen by the morphing employee.
Around this time she also asked me if we were underwater by any chance. I didn't even have tracers or anything, and I was a little jealous. Instead of an outward and visual experience, I felt mentally enhanced and analytic. I was deeply introspective. I also was not outwardly altered in any way. I believe to this day I could have spoken to anyone - a cop, my parents, etc. and been just fine.
+4:30 (3:30 A.M.)
Diane had calmed down a bit and we were making our way towards my house. She was finally in a state where we could have a sensible conversation. I pushed towards talking about our relationship. We started to talk about the cheating and about secrets. I started talking about sex and I could see a great sadness in her eyes. I had always suspected she had suffered some kind of abuse and I brought it up.
Then, this girl, who never told me a personal thing about herself that she didn’t have to, opened the floodgates. She told me how in high school, as a virgin, she had been pinned down and raped. How she had screamed and fought back and no one had helped her. How she told one single person besides me in her entire life and they didn’t believe her. She told me how her rapist told everyone at school they’d had sex and his friends started trying to sleep with her. She told me how she hated herself and she slept with anyone because it had no meaning for her anymore.
She told me how a few years later, she had been gangraped and sodomized by two men she trusted who drugged her. She told me the things they said to her. She told me how she thought all the rapes were her fault. She told me how worthless and broken and self-destructive she felt. She told me how she never trusted anyone and never thought she could be loved. She opened up in a way I had never ever expected.
As soon as this began happening, the first thought that entered my mind was “Fuck, I am going to have a hard time dealing with this later.” I knew there would be a lot to deal with in the days to come. Some of the people who had hurt her, I had known.
However, I was not disturbed at the moment. Instead I felt a great empathy and understanding for this girl. I said all the things I thought she needed to hear. I told her she wasn’t alone and we talked about it for hours.
There was no better therapeutic medicine for something like this. We were able to talk without being overwhelmed emotionally, and occasionally she’d even giggle or laugh when a weird visual would catch her eye. This went a long way towards helping her feel okay with this vulnerability she was sharing with me - it kept the mood somewhat positive.
We went to my house and laid in bed, just holding each other and talking. We felt connected and bonded. I told her I wanted to give our relationship a second chance, that things could be different this time. She agreed to try.
It should be noted as well, that around this time we both felt as if a family of fifty rats was living in our intestines and trying to gnaw their way out. However, the rest of the pleasant body load and euphoria was so powerful, we didn’t mind.
+7.30 (6:30 A.M.)
We were both feeling amazing and she was still having visuals. The conversation, the music, and the feeling of being close after so long was incredible... but it was also Mother’s day and we needed to see our families. We weren’t sure how long this trip was going to go on, so we each took 3 melatonins and a lorazepam.
We woke up five hours later and we felt great. It was a beautiful Mother’s day and we felt no ill after-effects.
We are now married and have a child together. Since that day, we have not had any of the problems we had before. As soon as that emotional connection was established, we bonded. The cheating and lying stopped, and the relationship became the most caring, loving, and open one I have ever been in.
As I had predicted during the trip, I did have some problems integrating the experience. I spent the remainder of that year in a depression, planning a series of revenge executions on her rapists. Sometimes I think about how those guys will never know how lucky they are to be alive and how close I had come. It was a real low-point in my life.
I had intrusive and reoccurring thoughts about her rapes that disrupted my daily life. I hated the entire male gender, and I hated my own sex drive. I had a lot of weird self-loathing issues. I tried to give up masturbating because every time I did, I wound up thinking about her getting raped. Sometimes I would even orgasm during these thoughts and the self-hate I would feel afterwards was infinite.
On some days, it was the only thing I could think about. I was using speed extensively to get through the day - without it I couldn't break the stranglehold these thoughts had on my mind.
Eventually I realized if I murdered someone and got caught, I would lose her. I couldn't bear the thought of this and I shelved my plans. This made my depression worse, as I now felt helpless.
I felt almost nothing when I wasn't on speed, and I hated and distrusted everyone, even children. In my mind, they would all grow up to be rapists. Eventually, with the help of a therapist and mescaline extracts, which showed me the positivity was still there in life, I was able to move on.
Diane never went to therapy, but she did open up to me about it a few more times. As she got the evil of those experiences out of her system, her health improved, particularly a chronic constipation she had suffered. I believe it was psychosomatic, and related to the sodomy.
Neither of our lives have ever been better, and I think that if we had only drank that night instead of taking the 2C-T-2, I would have lost her forever.
I've never touched 2C-T-2 since. I won’t take it ever again, either. I don’t think it could ever do more for me than it did that night, and it will always be the best drug I've ever tried for that reason.
Tagged by Xorkoth
substancecode_2ct2
substancecode_phenethylamines
explevel_firsttime
exptype_positive
exptype_glowing
exptype_lifechanging
roacode_oral
This is a long read, and I apologize in advance.
Prologue
This took place a few years ago. At the time that this trip happened, my life was a trainwreck (relatively).
My girlfriend at the time, Diane, had been a long-time friend. I had always thought I was going to marry her. From the start we’d had an amazing chemistry. She was the one girl who had always loved me regardless of how much I fucked up or how fat I became. I had slept with her on occasion, cheating on my girlfriends with her, but never started the relationship for a variety of selfish reasons. On some level, I treated her like my fallback plan. I used her physically. I know now how badly this hurt her and I regret it.
From the moment we had gotten together, things had gone wrong. We had less of a connection as a couple than as friends, and there was no trust, honesty, or love. We went through the motions, but behind everything we did there was a mutual and thinly veiled contempt. We cheated and lied to each other and then said “I love you”. I grew to hate her, and thought of her as nothing but a stupid and slutty party girl. Her life would always be drinking to blackouts and taking ecstasy and being used by men for sex. Thinking about this, and how I couldn't reach the girl I thought was inside, depressed me. We had nothing in common with each other but fucking and lying.
For some reason, probably our inability to admit after six years of wanting each other that it wasn't working, we never broke up. She was planning to move soon and I was dying for that day to come so I could be free. She felt the same way. I was cheating emotionally and physically. I hated myself and I hated her. Finally, I woke her up at 4 A.M. during one of my sleepless nights, told her I knew about the cheating, and we broke off the relationship. Like a coward, I never confessed my own sins.
We still had plans to attend a fundraiser a few days later. That is when the trip occurred and changed everything.
The Trip
A friend had given me two caps of 2C-T-2. He told me it was similar to ecstasy with visuals. I had never done any psychedelic but an accidental mushroom trip (don’t ask) and a low-dose cacti experience at this point in time. We were both completely psych-naive.
I was attending a fundraiser at a bowling alley with Diane. We had told no one we had broken up yet. We weren’t ready to admit the failure of our relationship to our families and friends. I think on some level, we also weren’t ready to let go of each other.
I was full of self-loathing and hate. I had slipped into a comfortable and familiar place, a mindset of self-pity and selfish faux-nihilism. I was drinking beers and planning to meet some friends in the city when the event ended. I was going to drink myself into oblivion.
Diane’s plans for going out after the event fell through, and she wanted to come out with me. We set off for the city and I was on the verge of tears. I wanted to go home, just turn the car around and just talk to her, but she said if we didn’t go to the city, she was going to go to a bar alone. I knew what that would entail. She would drink until she could barely stand up, and then someone would take her home and fuck her. I was feeling overwhelmed with a variety of emotions.
I suddenly remembered that the 2C-T-2 was in my center console. I dug it out and asked if she wanted to take it. Of course she did. I didn't really care what effect it had on me, as long as it took my mind off the sad little girl riding in the car next to me.
+0.00 (11:00 P.M.)
We each ingested a cap and followed it down with the beer I had brought into the car. As soon as the drugs entered the picture, her demeanor had changed, and the rest of the ride to the downtown went pleasantly enough.
+2.00 (1:00 A.M.)
Neither of us had felt a single thing at this point. No alerts, no nausea, nothing. We were at the bar having an enjoyable night, talking to my friends. Suddenly Diane stood up and briskly walked to the bathroom. I thought nothing of it, until she didn’t emerge for over 30 minutes.
I went to check up on her. She was projectile vomiting all over the stall. She could barely stop puking in order to talk. In addition, she could barely stand up. The drug was starting to hit, and hit hard. When she did talk, it was mostly gibberish. We’d had no more than five beers over the course of the entire day and night. This was not alcohol. This was something else.
I got her out of the bathroom but she could not walk. I essentially carried her to the table where my friends were. We all agreed she needed to go home, but how could I drive her? While I had not yet felt a single effect, I was terrified that I too would suddenly go from 0-60 as she had, except while driving!
We got her into a booth and waited until the bar was about to close. I still felt nothing. I decided that my capsule must have been bunk, and we carried her into my car.
+3.00 (2:00 A.M.)
She was hanging out of my passenger window, dry heaving and dripping spittle all over the side of my truck. I stopped at a 24/7 Walgreens and got her some garbage bags to puke in. She started to calm down and quit puking as we got onto the highway and headed home.
Suddenly she bolted upright from her hunched over position and exclaimed that it was snowing outside and even inside my truck! This was impossible, as it was May. I know now it was fractals from the golden street lights lining the highway that she was seeing.
She started giggling uncontrollably while looking at me. She said I had a moustache and a full rat-tail. She pulled at my shirt. “What year was this made? It looks old. It’s from 1970! What year is it?” From that point on, she was convinced that everything felt and looked like it was from the 1970’s. She knew we weren’t time traveling, but she said it felt like it.
At some point, she proclaimed “I LOVE DRUGS” while pressing her face against the window. This upset me for a variety of reasons. I put on a mix CD I had in the car in order to get my mind off of her.
I was still feeling no effects.
+3.30 (2:30 A.M.)
I was driving along feeling completely baseline when the Thin White Duke remix of Friendly Fires’ “Jump in the Pool” came on. At the start of the song, a sound effect like a plane flying by in the distance, or some ocean waves, fades in and out. As soon as I heard this effect, I felt like someone had poured ice water on my head and it was dripping slowly over every inch of my skin, all the way down to my toes. It was heavenly. My hair stood up on end. As the song built, I began to feel an incredible energy building up inside.
I must have played that song a hundred times that night. To this day, I shiver when I hear it.
I knew I shouldn’t be driving, but there weren’t any cars on the road and the moon and stars were out. The music sounded amazing. I was connecting to every lyric. I didn’t want to change anything. I didn’t want to stop the car, stop the music, I didn’t want to change a single element. I wanted to exist in this moment for eternity. I kept driving. I felt like I was rolling slightly, but a little different - a little more alien.
I entered a weird headspace. I had a slight pressure in my head, but it wasn’t unpleasant. I felt like I was at once in-tune with my emotions, but simultaneously detached from them. I could analytically examine every part of my life and psyche without being overwhelmed by an emotional response. I had no visuals of any kind at this point, or for the rest of the experience.
We giggled and laughed with each other. We danced to the music. We talked and talked. We were honest and open in a way we had never been to this date. I felt that every lyric spoke how I felt about her. A remix of Daft Punk’s Face to Face came on, and I thought the line “It’s my pride that made me distant, all because I hoped that you’d be someone different” was the most profound thing I’d ever heard. I thought it was written exclusively for us.
I wanted to talk about us, about our relationship and lives, but she wasn’t in a state of mind for that. We pulled off the highway and went to a McDonald’s. The drive-through had a pre-recorded message asking if you wanted an apple pie or some shit. Then after it played, a grown man asked to take our order. This completely blew her mind. She thought that a small asian woman had morphed into a large black man. She took my coat and got onto the floor and tried to cover herself. She didn’t want to be seen by the morphing employee.
Around this time she also asked me if we were underwater by any chance. I didn't even have tracers or anything, and I was a little jealous. Instead of an outward and visual experience, I felt mentally enhanced and analytic. I was deeply introspective. I also was not outwardly altered in any way. I believe to this day I could have spoken to anyone - a cop, my parents, etc. and been just fine.
+4:30 (3:30 A.M.)
Diane had calmed down a bit and we were making our way towards my house. She was finally in a state where we could have a sensible conversation. I pushed towards talking about our relationship. We started to talk about the cheating and about secrets. I started talking about sex and I could see a great sadness in her eyes. I had always suspected she had suffered some kind of abuse and I brought it up.
Then, this girl, who never told me a personal thing about herself that she didn’t have to, opened the floodgates. She told me how in high school, as a virgin, she had been pinned down and raped. How she had screamed and fought back and no one had helped her. How she told one single person besides me in her entire life and they didn’t believe her. She told me how her rapist told everyone at school they’d had sex and his friends started trying to sleep with her. She told me how she hated herself and she slept with anyone because it had no meaning for her anymore.
She told me how a few years later, she had been gangraped and sodomized by two men she trusted who drugged her. She told me the things they said to her. She told me how she thought all the rapes were her fault. She told me how worthless and broken and self-destructive she felt. She told me how she never trusted anyone and never thought she could be loved. She opened up in a way I had never ever expected.
As soon as this began happening, the first thought that entered my mind was “Fuck, I am going to have a hard time dealing with this later.” I knew there would be a lot to deal with in the days to come. Some of the people who had hurt her, I had known.
However, I was not disturbed at the moment. Instead I felt a great empathy and understanding for this girl. I said all the things I thought she needed to hear. I told her she wasn’t alone and we talked about it for hours.
There was no better therapeutic medicine for something like this. We were able to talk without being overwhelmed emotionally, and occasionally she’d even giggle or laugh when a weird visual would catch her eye. This went a long way towards helping her feel okay with this vulnerability she was sharing with me - it kept the mood somewhat positive.
We went to my house and laid in bed, just holding each other and talking. We felt connected and bonded. I told her I wanted to give our relationship a second chance, that things could be different this time. She agreed to try.
It should be noted as well, that around this time we both felt as if a family of fifty rats was living in our intestines and trying to gnaw their way out. However, the rest of the pleasant body load and euphoria was so powerful, we didn’t mind.
+7.30 (6:30 A.M.)
We were both feeling amazing and she was still having visuals. The conversation, the music, and the feeling of being close after so long was incredible... but it was also Mother’s day and we needed to see our families. We weren’t sure how long this trip was going to go on, so we each took 3 melatonins and a lorazepam.
We woke up five hours later and we felt great. It was a beautiful Mother’s day and we felt no ill after-effects.
Epilogue
We are now married and have a child together. Since that day, we have not had any of the problems we had before. As soon as that emotional connection was established, we bonded. The cheating and lying stopped, and the relationship became the most caring, loving, and open one I have ever been in.
As I had predicted during the trip, I did have some problems integrating the experience. I spent the remainder of that year in a depression, planning a series of revenge executions on her rapists. Sometimes I think about how those guys will never know how lucky they are to be alive and how close I had come. It was a real low-point in my life.
I had intrusive and reoccurring thoughts about her rapes that disrupted my daily life. I hated the entire male gender, and I hated my own sex drive. I had a lot of weird self-loathing issues. I tried to give up masturbating because every time I did, I wound up thinking about her getting raped. Sometimes I would even orgasm during these thoughts and the self-hate I would feel afterwards was infinite.
On some days, it was the only thing I could think about. I was using speed extensively to get through the day - without it I couldn't break the stranglehold these thoughts had on my mind.
Eventually I realized if I murdered someone and got caught, I would lose her. I couldn't bear the thought of this and I shelved my plans. This made my depression worse, as I now felt helpless.
I felt almost nothing when I wasn't on speed, and I hated and distrusted everyone, even children. In my mind, they would all grow up to be rapists. Eventually, with the help of a therapist and mescaline extracts, which showed me the positivity was still there in life, I was able to move on.
Diane never went to therapy, but she did open up to me about it a few more times. As she got the evil of those experiences out of her system, her health improved, particularly a chronic constipation she had suffered. I believe it was psychosomatic, and related to the sodomy.
Neither of our lives have ever been better, and I think that if we had only drank that night instead of taking the 2C-T-2, I would have lost her forever.
I've never touched 2C-T-2 since. I won’t take it ever again, either. I don’t think it could ever do more for me than it did that night, and it will always be the best drug I've ever tried for that reason.
Tagged by Xorkoth
substancecode_2ct2
substancecode_phenethylamines
explevel_firsttime
exptype_positive
exptype_glowing
exptype_lifechanging
roacode_oral
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