methoxetaman
Bluelighter
- Joined
- Apr 30, 2011
- Messages
- 310
Fuck it
So, fuck it I am embarrassed every time I think of this, and I was planning on keeping it to myself, but let me share a fuckin story about me tripping balls on 3-hydroxy-phencyclidine when I thought I was in hell.
So, I have a hell of a tolerance go NMDA-receptor antagonists (dissociatives), and this can sometimes cause delusions of sobriety.
So I guess I dosed at my apartment. I don’t really remember it. I felt pretty much sober and left for my mom & dad’s house.
I got there and felt fine, and the reason I was there was to let my dad look at my car (fucked up turn signals and shit). We went out to the car and my dad started it and was doing stuff, and this is when things started to get weird.
I kept turning it off because I was tripping balls and was confused. Idk how else to put it.
My dad was like, “go inside and sit down. You’re acting weird.”
When I turned off the car, my dad was like what the fuck and turned it back on and I said, “YOU’RE acting weird you should go sit down.”
I think I was convinced it was about to explode.
At some point, the across-the-street neighbors, who go to the same church as my parents, got home and walked inside their garage.
Anyway, I went inside and my parents had the news on—it was all about hurricanes and destruction and global climate change and how the world is ending.
I realized I was dead and in Hell, and I was stuck there for eternity, watching the world end on TV and also there was no water.
I had to figure out how to get to heaven. I wasn’t supposed to be stuck in Hell. Maybe God would let me into heaven if I figured out how to get out of hell.
So I ran across the street. And into the neighbors’ garage. And into their living room.
I screamed, “HELP ME GET TO HEAVEN!!!” and after the husband grabbed my arm to prevent me from going further into the house, I immediately left and ran back to my mom and dad’s living room.
There is no water in Hell—but there was water in the fountain pond in the backyard... so I ran outside and chugged a fuck ton straight out of the fountain. Put my mouth on it like a plastic cock and chugged
There were little plastic birds attached to the rim of a plant pot—I screamed, “BIRDS AREN’T REAL BIRDS AREN’T REAL” and cracked them all off and threw them.
I went back inside and had the best idea ever—take off all my clothes.
So I did. In front of my mom and dad. My dad kept yelling at me and didn’t let me take off my undies I guess idk.
So anyway, kept telling my mom, “I’m dead. I’M IN HELL! I’m dead and IN HELL!!!!!”
And she was just like, “I heard.”
Eventually, I started coming down a bit and started realizing I wasn’t dead and I was okay.
I remember the dread I felt; that I wasn’t going to see my nephew grow up, that the world is on its way to ending.
Eventually, I went into the bathroom and puked a fuck ton of pond water up. This happened twice.
My dad had put on Rick & Morty and told me to sit down and watch it.
Don’t do drugs.
Eventually, I have to go and apologize to the neighbors. I’m lucky they didn’t call the police or shoot me.
I’m thinking that maybe I took some orally and it took a while to kick in, or, more likely, the change of setting reduced my tolerance and it hit me like a train.
That’s a real thing. Like someone could be used to shooting up a $20 bag of heroin in his room, and barely getting high bc I’d tolerance, but then he goes to the mall and shoots a $20 in the bathroom and dies of overdose because the change in setting reduced his tolerance.
If anyone knows what the fuck is wrong with me, feel free to share
So, fuck it I am embarrassed every time I think of this, and I was planning on keeping it to myself, but let me share a fuckin story about me tripping balls on 3-hydroxy-phencyclidine when I thought I was in hell.
So, I have a hell of a tolerance go NMDA-receptor antagonists (dissociatives), and this can sometimes cause delusions of sobriety.
So I guess I dosed at my apartment. I don’t really remember it. I felt pretty much sober and left for my mom & dad’s house.
I got there and felt fine, and the reason I was there was to let my dad look at my car (fucked up turn signals and shit). We went out to the car and my dad started it and was doing stuff, and this is when things started to get weird.
I kept turning it off because I was tripping balls and was confused. Idk how else to put it.
My dad was like, “go inside and sit down. You’re acting weird.”
When I turned off the car, my dad was like what the fuck and turned it back on and I said, “YOU’RE acting weird you should go sit down.”
I think I was convinced it was about to explode.
At some point, the across-the-street neighbors, who go to the same church as my parents, got home and walked inside their garage.
Anyway, I went inside and my parents had the news on—it was all about hurricanes and destruction and global climate change and how the world is ending.
I realized I was dead and in Hell, and I was stuck there for eternity, watching the world end on TV and also there was no water.
I had to figure out how to get to heaven. I wasn’t supposed to be stuck in Hell. Maybe God would let me into heaven if I figured out how to get out of hell.
So I ran across the street. And into the neighbors’ garage. And into their living room.
I screamed, “HELP ME GET TO HEAVEN!!!” and after the husband grabbed my arm to prevent me from going further into the house, I immediately left and ran back to my mom and dad’s living room.
There is no water in Hell—but there was water in the fountain pond in the backyard... so I ran outside and chugged a fuck ton straight out of the fountain. Put my mouth on it like a plastic cock and chugged
There were little plastic birds attached to the rim of a plant pot—I screamed, “BIRDS AREN’T REAL BIRDS AREN’T REAL” and cracked them all off and threw them.
I went back inside and had the best idea ever—take off all my clothes.
So I did. In front of my mom and dad. My dad kept yelling at me and didn’t let me take off my undies I guess idk.
So anyway, kept telling my mom, “I’m dead. I’M IN HELL! I’m dead and IN HELL!!!!!”
And she was just like, “I heard.”
Eventually, I started coming down a bit and started realizing I wasn’t dead and I was okay.
I remember the dread I felt; that I wasn’t going to see my nephew grow up, that the world is on its way to ending.
Eventually, I went into the bathroom and puked a fuck ton of pond water up. This happened twice.
My dad had put on Rick & Morty and told me to sit down and watch it.
Don’t do drugs.
Eventually, I have to go and apologize to the neighbors. I’m lucky they didn’t call the police or shoot me.
I’m thinking that maybe I took some orally and it took a while to kick in, or, more likely, the change of setting reduced my tolerance and it hit me like a train.
That’s a real thing. Like someone could be used to shooting up a $20 bag of heroin in his room, and barely getting high bc I’d tolerance, but then he goes to the mall and shoots a $20 in the bathroom and dies of overdose because the change in setting reduced his tolerance.
If anyone knows what the fuck is wrong with me, feel free to share
I'm glad nothing worse happened, obviously it could have gone much worse in terms of consequences. 3-HO-PCP is a strong drug, last night at a one day/night festival my band threw, after our last set, I did a little bump of my friend's 3-HO-PCP, I was eyeballing it at 5mg, it must have been more, but it couldn't have been more than 10mg. Anyway I got SO high, to that place where I had no idea how to talk or communicate except through my eyes. All I could do was dance to the music that was playing, using my gloves as a prop. people were talking to me and telling me stuff and I just smiled and stared at them. After a couple of hours, I was able to start to talk again, and then all I could say was WOW, I was just high as fucking balls! It was a good time, but god, I can't imagine doing a dose even a fraction that huge. The rest of my night was awesome, I was so euphoric and talkative once I came down some.
