Soul137
Bluelighter
I had long been interested in injecting a psychedelic. All you fellow psychonauts out there were saying, “It's a whole different ballgame...” I was too intrigued to not go conquer the fear of the needle.
I was/am in a rather turbulent time in my life (as will necessarily be elucidated in the course of this TR), but positive set and setting be damned. I knew it was time I throw the doors wide open and see whatever the fuck was there.
So I purchased insulin syringes (50u, 12.7mm 30G), Isopropynol (70%), distilled water and a stainless steel spoon; trying desperately the whole time to act like I wasn't insane.
At first I felt the need to inject (into my Vastus Lateralis) some of the distilled water, just to get the feel for the needle. I laughed out loud when it proved to be relatively painless.
With the confidence of a practice run under my belt, I dropped 32-35mg (variance due to that $25 Gemini-20 piece of crap) of 4-AcO-DMT fumarate into the spoon, poured ~3ml of distilled water on top of that, and heated and stirred, in what I couldn't help but think of as a Trainspotting inspired manner, until i had a transparent brown liquid glaring at me from the bowl of my spoon.
I crunched an extra .5mg Clonazepam (I'm prescribed 1mg/day) to pacify my quivering hands, and pricked my skin, pausing for a second of final mental steeling, before pushing the plunger. I was surprised that it didn't hit immediately, but I did have 5 more shots to do. So I proceeded, one after the other, switching legs after the first 3. By the 4th shot I knew something was going to happen— Something big. But it wasn't until about 15 minutes after the final shot that I understood why people inject psychedelics.
All of the comparisons to full-body, psychedelic orgasms are apt to say the least. My body vibrated with electric pleasure. Waves of love, and beauty rippled through my muscles. My back arched reflexively; and I made a noise reminiscent of both a laugh and a moan. I lay pinned to my bed by euphoria.
My music (The Disco Biscuits) was timing it all. Every bass riff, drum fill, synth line, and all those guitar deedles were radiating through my skin, into my very soul, and back out into the world.
After the initial rush, the entire trip was spent having revelation after revelation, confronting fear after fear. So in order to properly illustrate my experience, I must now back up and explain the context within which this trip was taking place. My personal life is intimately intertwined with this trip, so stop reading now if you do not want to hear me gush. I’ll return to exclusively drug-related talk in the final paragraphs.
So in the three weeks preceding this trip I had been growing incredibly attached to a girl. A romance like I had never known. I have never had a serious long term relationship, but even within 2 weeks of meeting this girl I knew I wanted to be with her, for real. And she wanted to be with me. We went from talking every night on Facebook to texting all throughout the day. We started going out to dinner; real dates. And just like in the movies I waited until the third date to ask her over. I couldn’t believe how true and pure it felt. It was a feeling I had not yet known.
The day before this trip (which I had been planning for some time) we had the first real talk about my bisexuality. I had told her in the beginning when we were just getting to know each other (I’m open about it), but this was the first time I admitted to her that it meant I could never be monogamous. I would always be wanting something, something purely physical, that I couldn’t have. Having had many difficult relationships in the past, and having been cheated on and lied to, she couldn’t tolerate that idea. It’s not that she wasn’t accepting of my bisexuality, she was (although she admitted she was somewhat irked just due to the ever present fear of the unfamiliar). But the idea that I could not be monogamous, really hurt and scared her. So she said she said she needed time to think. Now I was hurt and scared
We had kept talking in the 18 or so hours leading up to this trip. We had discussed our feelings... to an extent. I had told her that I would try to be monogamous, because I wanted to do everything I could to give our relationship a shot. But had I really meant it? Regardless, we both needed time to think and we knew it.
So I decided I would go through with my trip despite being confused and hurt. As I stated earlier, I knew it was time. My psychedelic experiences had been predominantly recreational for the past 3 months. It was time to dive in once again. For real.
After the initial orgasmic come up, Love hit me like a train. Like a bolt of lightning to the most inner part of me, my essence. She had said that being bisexual didn’t make me exempt from the rules of commitment. That when I felt true love I would understand that one person really can be enough. And she was right. In that split second I realized that I loved this girl completely. From the moment she told me we needed time apart, all I had wanted was her. I could not care less about anyone else, male or female. When I was with her, I was always in the moment. Just there with her... And I had believed monogamy was impossible... HA!
I texted her this the moment I realized it (rather coherently too considering I was tripping an almost unprecedented number of balls). For so long I had been scared of commitment. My parents marriage was an endless parade of lies and resentment. Being bisexual was just my loophole. “I’ll Love only you. But sometimes I need to suck a dick. That’s just how my hormones are.” It was just fear. Well I’m not running anymore. I know that true Love exists. It may not last forever. But it exists.
As I was spilling my guts to her, I was also spilling them onto a kid who at first was just my dealer, then over a few months became my dealer/friend, and I had a sudden realization that he was not my dealer/friend either. He had officially become my Bro.
Bro is a term I take very seriously. I’m was an only child and my parents ceased to raise me, give me any sort of guidance really, when they separated. I was 12. Since then my friends and I had more or less raised ourselves. Sure my parents provided food and a bed. But we lived on the streets as much as we could. So true Friendship to me is like being a sibling. It involves Love of its own kind.
For so long I thought all my real Friends were at the college where I spent freshman year. Now I’m going to college in New York City, where I grew up. I felt that I was without true Friendship.
So when I realized this kid was my capital F Friend. I was overjoyed. I understood not just the love I felt for this girl. I also remembered my love for everything else, all the people I care about in my life. I remember that deep down I’m a lover not a fighter, in a profound way. All my childhood I had been so passionate and curious. But when my parents separated, slowly all that passion dwindled. Love was replaced with Resentment. Passion was replaced by fear and anxiety. Life had lost color.
Well all the color came flooding back. I’m a person who loves things. I am a smart and passionate person. I’m an also an emotionally damaged drug fanatic. But that is all just great. I finally can Love myself again.
With these realizations, came a newfound clarity. A personal philosophy. I know what will make me happy in life.
1) I need to be honest. With myself and everyone else. About everything.
2) I need to make an effort to give as much love as I can.
Love and Honesty are kitted into the fibres of my being. Coded in my DNA. And I had been denying them for the past 7 years. But I remember who I am now. I know me.
After all these realizations, after opening the floodgates and letting contents of my psyche pour forth, I feel cleansed. I feel like myself again; after 7 years of confusion. I go into the future not with certainty. I have not rid myself of anxiety. Nor the sorrow of perhaps never being able to be with this girl that I love (saying it still sounds crazy. I smile just looking at the word, and how I now know what it means). But I go into the future with faith— of some kind or another— in myself— and in Love. Two things I had not believed in since I was a child.
The peak of the experience probably lasted about two and a half hours but I was still very much at work on my mind until about four hours in. Visuals, especially closed eye, were very present throughout the experience but I was so entrenched in my emotional exploration that I hardly even noticed. What I did notice was the sensual euphoria provided by the music and how it lead me through my emotional journey. Each song was perfectly timed to, or regulated time for, my trip.
I really began coming down at around the four hour mark, as stated previously, and began settling back into my comfortable new skin. I ate some frozen pizza (my body has learned to eat on any drug), and popped 1mg Alprazolam at the five hour mark to start wending my weary way towards sleep. My mind was still reeling to some extent, but my body was exhausted. I drifted off to sleep at around T+6:00, content with the knowledge that I had done something meaningful for the first time in a while. I had shifted my life forward, by one, very significant step.
I was/am in a rather turbulent time in my life (as will necessarily be elucidated in the course of this TR), but positive set and setting be damned. I knew it was time I throw the doors wide open and see whatever the fuck was there.
So I purchased insulin syringes (50u, 12.7mm 30G), Isopropynol (70%), distilled water and a stainless steel spoon; trying desperately the whole time to act like I wasn't insane.
At first I felt the need to inject (into my Vastus Lateralis) some of the distilled water, just to get the feel for the needle. I laughed out loud when it proved to be relatively painless.
With the confidence of a practice run under my belt, I dropped 32-35mg (variance due to that $25 Gemini-20 piece of crap) of 4-AcO-DMT fumarate into the spoon, poured ~3ml of distilled water on top of that, and heated and stirred, in what I couldn't help but think of as a Trainspotting inspired manner, until i had a transparent brown liquid glaring at me from the bowl of my spoon.
I crunched an extra .5mg Clonazepam (I'm prescribed 1mg/day) to pacify my quivering hands, and pricked my skin, pausing for a second of final mental steeling, before pushing the plunger. I was surprised that it didn't hit immediately, but I did have 5 more shots to do. So I proceeded, one after the other, switching legs after the first 3. By the 4th shot I knew something was going to happen— Something big. But it wasn't until about 15 minutes after the final shot that I understood why people inject psychedelics.
All of the comparisons to full-body, psychedelic orgasms are apt to say the least. My body vibrated with electric pleasure. Waves of love, and beauty rippled through my muscles. My back arched reflexively; and I made a noise reminiscent of both a laugh and a moan. I lay pinned to my bed by euphoria.
My music (The Disco Biscuits) was timing it all. Every bass riff, drum fill, synth line, and all those guitar deedles were radiating through my skin, into my very soul, and back out into the world.
After the initial rush, the entire trip was spent having revelation after revelation, confronting fear after fear. So in order to properly illustrate my experience, I must now back up and explain the context within which this trip was taking place. My personal life is intimately intertwined with this trip, so stop reading now if you do not want to hear me gush. I’ll return to exclusively drug-related talk in the final paragraphs.
So in the three weeks preceding this trip I had been growing incredibly attached to a girl. A romance like I had never known. I have never had a serious long term relationship, but even within 2 weeks of meeting this girl I knew I wanted to be with her, for real. And she wanted to be with me. We went from talking every night on Facebook to texting all throughout the day. We started going out to dinner; real dates. And just like in the movies I waited until the third date to ask her over. I couldn’t believe how true and pure it felt. It was a feeling I had not yet known.
The day before this trip (which I had been planning for some time) we had the first real talk about my bisexuality. I had told her in the beginning when we were just getting to know each other (I’m open about it), but this was the first time I admitted to her that it meant I could never be monogamous. I would always be wanting something, something purely physical, that I couldn’t have. Having had many difficult relationships in the past, and having been cheated on and lied to, she couldn’t tolerate that idea. It’s not that she wasn’t accepting of my bisexuality, she was (although she admitted she was somewhat irked just due to the ever present fear of the unfamiliar). But the idea that I could not be monogamous, really hurt and scared her. So she said she said she needed time to think. Now I was hurt and scared
We had kept talking in the 18 or so hours leading up to this trip. We had discussed our feelings... to an extent. I had told her that I would try to be monogamous, because I wanted to do everything I could to give our relationship a shot. But had I really meant it? Regardless, we both needed time to think and we knew it.
So I decided I would go through with my trip despite being confused and hurt. As I stated earlier, I knew it was time. My psychedelic experiences had been predominantly recreational for the past 3 months. It was time to dive in once again. For real.
After the initial orgasmic come up, Love hit me like a train. Like a bolt of lightning to the most inner part of me, my essence. She had said that being bisexual didn’t make me exempt from the rules of commitment. That when I felt true love I would understand that one person really can be enough. And she was right. In that split second I realized that I loved this girl completely. From the moment she told me we needed time apart, all I had wanted was her. I could not care less about anyone else, male or female. When I was with her, I was always in the moment. Just there with her... And I had believed monogamy was impossible... HA!
I texted her this the moment I realized it (rather coherently too considering I was tripping an almost unprecedented number of balls). For so long I had been scared of commitment. My parents marriage was an endless parade of lies and resentment. Being bisexual was just my loophole. “I’ll Love only you. But sometimes I need to suck a dick. That’s just how my hormones are.” It was just fear. Well I’m not running anymore. I know that true Love exists. It may not last forever. But it exists.
As I was spilling my guts to her, I was also spilling them onto a kid who at first was just my dealer, then over a few months became my dealer/friend, and I had a sudden realization that he was not my dealer/friend either. He had officially become my Bro.
Bro is a term I take very seriously. I’m was an only child and my parents ceased to raise me, give me any sort of guidance really, when they separated. I was 12. Since then my friends and I had more or less raised ourselves. Sure my parents provided food and a bed. But we lived on the streets as much as we could. So true Friendship to me is like being a sibling. It involves Love of its own kind.
For so long I thought all my real Friends were at the college where I spent freshman year. Now I’m going to college in New York City, where I grew up. I felt that I was without true Friendship.
So when I realized this kid was my capital F Friend. I was overjoyed. I understood not just the love I felt for this girl. I also remembered my love for everything else, all the people I care about in my life. I remember that deep down I’m a lover not a fighter, in a profound way. All my childhood I had been so passionate and curious. But when my parents separated, slowly all that passion dwindled. Love was replaced with Resentment. Passion was replaced by fear and anxiety. Life had lost color.
Well all the color came flooding back. I’m a person who loves things. I am a smart and passionate person. I’m an also an emotionally damaged drug fanatic. But that is all just great. I finally can Love myself again.
With these realizations, came a newfound clarity. A personal philosophy. I know what will make me happy in life.
1) I need to be honest. With myself and everyone else. About everything.
2) I need to make an effort to give as much love as I can.
Love and Honesty are kitted into the fibres of my being. Coded in my DNA. And I had been denying them for the past 7 years. But I remember who I am now. I know me.
After all these realizations, after opening the floodgates and letting contents of my psyche pour forth, I feel cleansed. I feel like myself again; after 7 years of confusion. I go into the future not with certainty. I have not rid myself of anxiety. Nor the sorrow of perhaps never being able to be with this girl that I love (saying it still sounds crazy. I smile just looking at the word, and how I now know what it means). But I go into the future with faith— of some kind or another— in myself— and in Love. Two things I had not believed in since I was a child.
The peak of the experience probably lasted about two and a half hours but I was still very much at work on my mind until about four hours in. Visuals, especially closed eye, were very present throughout the experience but I was so entrenched in my emotional exploration that I hardly even noticed. What I did notice was the sensual euphoria provided by the music and how it lead me through my emotional journey. Each song was perfectly timed to, or regulated time for, my trip.
I really began coming down at around the four hour mark, as stated previously, and began settling back into my comfortable new skin. I ate some frozen pizza (my body has learned to eat on any drug), and popped 1mg Alprazolam at the five hour mark to start wending my weary way towards sleep. My mind was still reeling to some extent, but my body was exhausted. I drifted off to sleep at around T+6:00, content with the knowledge that I had done something meaningful for the first time in a while. I had shifted my life forward, by one, very significant step.
