delphium
Bluelighter
Howdy Blers! I suppose it’s a little risky to introduce myself this way. I’ve seen many a more experienced and reputable psychonaut castigated on this board for combining far more innocuous psychedelic research chemicals, and I have to imagine the fact that I’m both young and new to the community will dramatically increase the probability that I’ll be treated in kind. Regardless, I found this to be a pretty interesting trip, the details of which I feel compelled to share in the interest of both harm reduction and my own peace of mind. After all, each and every one of us needs SOMEONE to jabber at during the afterglow, right?
First, a little bit about me: I’m a 21-year-old male college student relatively well-versed in the use of psychedelic compounds. In the past I’ve consumed mushrooms, LSD, 2C-B, DXM, 2C-I, DOM, and MDMA in various quantities and combinations. Generally speaking I trip about twice a month, though often times real life impinges on that schedule. Prior to this particular experience I had been psychedelic-free for about a month and a half due to an overwhelming workload in school and an assortment of extracurricular-related obligations that had me running a non-stop seven to twelve inhospitable to psychotropics (outside of my daily dose of caffeine, and, under extenuating circumstances, adderall or modafinil). I’m not presently prescribed any medications nor do I follow a nootropic regimen.
So, why the combination? Well, largely thanks to the reading that I’ve done on this board and Erowid, I’m fairly circumspect about mixing psychedelic compounds, especially PEAs. When I do, I’m careful to have a specific goal in mind. In the past I’ve found DOM to be a beautiful and sinister substance, alternately capable of generating extremely peaceful and visually awe-inspiring mindstates as well as inescapable black holes of scathingly critical but ultimately productive self-examination. DOM’s is a razor’s edge, however, and many times I’ve found that the introspective trips it generates can be so unrelentingly blunt and unabashed that they’re next to impossible to integrate. It’s a drug whose barbs lodge deep in sinew and bone alike and then pull their victim along, willingly or not, to places out in the ether its sober mind could never have conceived of fully. Sometimes the relief at simply having survived a DOM trip with one’s sanity fully intact can blur or even erase any lessons learned therein. 2C-I, on the other hand, I’ve never found to be unfriendly or even remotely threatening. In my experience it has proven to be an exceptionally useful tool for developing creative solutions to social conundrums. It’s an ideal drug for facilitating dialogue, both internal and external, and my hope is that it will soften and pragmatize the DOM experience. My plan, then, is to administer 7 mg DOM orally followed by 10 mg of 2C-I nasally after the peak has begun to subside. On to the trip!
T+0:00: Thanks to a long-term friendship with an individual gainfully employed by my university’s biotechnology institute and utterly bereft of scruples, I have access to a scale accurate within 100 micrograms. Utilizing this blessed piece of equipment I could never have afforded out of my own pocket, I measure out 7 milligrams of DOM and deposit it in a 0 gelcap. I swallow the cap with a swig of Gatorade and proceed to plop down on the couch with my roommates to watch the NCAA tourney. It’s worth noting that prior to dropping I hadn’t consumed any food for around 8 hours. Though I’ve never experienced any nausea or GI distress as a result of dosing DOM, I find that consuming it on a full stomach can prolong the come-up and exacerbate the sympathetic side-effects that it entails.
T+0:20: Honestly, I’ve never been able to determine if the twinge that I always feel about 20 minutes after dosing DOM is placebo or not. I’m a little red in the face and my blood is running electric, much the way it does after a low (~5mg) dose of Adderall. One of my roommates commented that while arguing about calls in the Pitt/Xavier game we’ve all been watching I was unusually engaging and perhaps a little loud. I’m pretty sure it’s all in my mind, though, as previously I’ve never noticed any additional developments beyond this initial “alert” until another hour and fifteen minutes or so later.
T+1:30: Sure enough, nothing new up until just a few minutes ago (aside from much screaming at the television. Every year I find myself seduced into sticking Xavier into the Elite Eight because they’re so consistently on the cusp, yet every year they inevitably let me down. Bah. Such is life.). Anyhow, things are happening now, and as expected, they’re not altogether pleasant. The come-up on DOM for me resembles food poisoning minus any of the digestive distress–I’m feverish and sweating like a stuck pig, my muscles are tense and growing sore, and I’m supremely light-headed, leading to some balance and motor coordination problems. My one consolation is the maelstrom brewing outside. I live in Phoenix and consequently am all too rarely exposed to, you know, weather. Tonight, however, strong winds are gusting and it appears a thunderstorm is brewing out in the desert to the west of the city. Yippee!
T+2:45: I’ve been reading Cormac McCarthy’s Suttree for the past hour or so, waiting for the visuals to reach a crescendo and preclude me from doing so any longer. I find that outside of the two hour period surrounding the peak of a DOM trip I can focus my mind enough to prevent words from somersaulting and barrel-rolling off of the pages upon which they’re printed, so long as whatever I’m reading contains a) evocative imagery and b) subject matter to which I can personally relate. McCarthy’s dreamy and elaborate Gothic prose, and his uniquely Southern focus fulfill both of my criteria in spades (I grew up in Virginia and spent most of my summers with family in Tennessee and North Carolina). There’s something about the way his male characters endure indescribable penury and physical degradation with such unbending pride. I suppose I’m pretty old-fashioned in my construction of masculinity; subscribing to all this crap about real men being able to bear the burden of Atlas whilst never breaking a sweat or uttering a complaint. I know it’s unrealistic–the Gary-Cooper-in-High-Noon archetype is so unreasonable it’s hardly worth aspiring to–yet watching McCarthy’s characters flirt with such perfection in the face of pervasive misery makes me feel small and pathetic. Christ almighty, I’m almost on the verge of tears.
T+3:15: Peaking now. Peripheral side-effects are a thing of the past and the visual component of this trip has reached a level both profound and slightly overwhelming. Outside the storm leaves me in awe and genuflecting. While the thunderheads appear to be lingering out over the desert, the wind is so strong that I feel as though I’ve been caught in a squall on the open seas. And I can see it! The wind is a liquid medium, washing over trees and houses and lawns like a roiling wall of spring water, clean as the driven snow. Everything in its wake glistens, polished anew for my and my eyes alone to admire. And the colors! My fucking God the colors! The night sky, while I know it to be almost pitch black in actuality, appears as a velvet and undulating blanket dyed a bleeding mixture of oversaturated blues and greens and purples; a sort of synthetic Aurora Borealis. In the distance I can see bolt lighting illuminating distant clouds and ripping effervescent tears in the space-time continuum, each flash promising an infinity of promise and fascination. I feel weak and I need to lie down. More later.
T+ 4:30: Things are calming down now, portending the beginning of a long and harrowing plateau. For me this (the period between hours 4 and 10) is where DOM’s lens turns from convex to concave, directing its attention on my person rather than my surroundings. But this time I have a plan. Haha! Instead of girding my psychological loins and battening down my mental hatches as I’ve done before, I’m going to take steps–chemical steps–to ensure that this trip remains positive, productive, and utile. My mindset positive and my resolve strong, I divide a premeasured 10 mg pile of 2C-I crystals into six small piles and insufflate the lot of them over the course of about 15 minutes. Lots of people on this board have complained about the pain concomitant with sniffing 2C-I, and with good reason. Putting any more than 2-3 mg up a single nostril at once feels much like I imagine snorting Pop Rocks would. The combination of burning and tingling sensations it induces feels like it should be accompanied by cracklings and fizzlings and all sorts of other noises that simply should never be emitted by anyone’s nasal cavity in any situation. I’ve discovered, however, that dividing the snorted quantity into many small bumps to be inhaled over a protracted period of time can reduce the pain substantially. Case in point: having just finished my last line, I’m experiencing only a nagging tickling in my left nostril. As for the strength of the experience…waghahahahagyyyyyak.
T+5:30(+1:00): This isn’t exactly what I was aiming for. It’s not bad, but it’s certainly more recreational than I was hoping. The minute I polished off the 2C-I I began laughing for the first time during the trip. And I’ve pretty much been laughing ever since. The 2C-I definitely brought child-like euphoria and excitement to the table, as well as adding a bit more symmetry and design to the DOM visuals (I find that many of the patterns I observe on DOM alone aren’t really patterns at all, but rather writhing masses of tentacles/vessels/appendages that lack any real mathematical order or fractal basis). Now the room is a pulsing mess of Mandelbrotian flowers and Arabesque mosaics all lit up in DOM’s symphony of colors. It’s beautiful to the point of being hypnogogic. I can’t think.
T+11:00(+6:30): I just woke up with a start to my alarm sounding at a pitch and volume I can only imagine was devised centuries ago to awaken bloodlust in the minds and muscles of Viking warriors before battle. Uggghhhh. I fell asleep. I don’t know how, but I did. I can’t even describe the dream that I had. I was walking down a narrow road in what looked like the Appalachian Mountains, hooded and carrying a battered knapsack. In it there was no water, no food. The sun stood motionless and high in the sky and it was unbearably hot. Every few minutes a car would pass me on the road and then pull onto the shoulder. Upon catching up, the driver would roll down the passenger side window to offer me a ride. Getting into the cars proved strangely difficult, however. Soon after opening the door, I’d immediately recognize the driver as some significant figure in my life–my mother, my father, my godfather, a friend from back home, a teacher, a lover, etc.–and that recognition would trigger crippling, acute feelings of anxiety. Instead of climbing in and riding to salvation, I’d simply walk away down the road. All of the drivers would ride alongside me for a time and entreat me to join them, but I could scarcely respond. My throat would seal itself shut with a combination of nervous energy and dust kicked up off of the road and I could choke out little more than guttural grunts of deference. I don’t know what any of it means, and at the moment I’ve no time to contemplate as much. As always, real life beckons, and I’m held hostage to the dulcet tones of its crooning. So that’s all for now. Hopefully I’ll be back to amend this later.
substancecode_dom
substancecode_2ci
substancecode_phenethylamines
explevel_experienced
roacode_oral
exptype_positive
_combo_
First, a little bit about me: I’m a 21-year-old male college student relatively well-versed in the use of psychedelic compounds. In the past I’ve consumed mushrooms, LSD, 2C-B, DXM, 2C-I, DOM, and MDMA in various quantities and combinations. Generally speaking I trip about twice a month, though often times real life impinges on that schedule. Prior to this particular experience I had been psychedelic-free for about a month and a half due to an overwhelming workload in school and an assortment of extracurricular-related obligations that had me running a non-stop seven to twelve inhospitable to psychotropics (outside of my daily dose of caffeine, and, under extenuating circumstances, adderall or modafinil). I’m not presently prescribed any medications nor do I follow a nootropic regimen.
So, why the combination? Well, largely thanks to the reading that I’ve done on this board and Erowid, I’m fairly circumspect about mixing psychedelic compounds, especially PEAs. When I do, I’m careful to have a specific goal in mind. In the past I’ve found DOM to be a beautiful and sinister substance, alternately capable of generating extremely peaceful and visually awe-inspiring mindstates as well as inescapable black holes of scathingly critical but ultimately productive self-examination. DOM’s is a razor’s edge, however, and many times I’ve found that the introspective trips it generates can be so unrelentingly blunt and unabashed that they’re next to impossible to integrate. It’s a drug whose barbs lodge deep in sinew and bone alike and then pull their victim along, willingly or not, to places out in the ether its sober mind could never have conceived of fully. Sometimes the relief at simply having survived a DOM trip with one’s sanity fully intact can blur or even erase any lessons learned therein. 2C-I, on the other hand, I’ve never found to be unfriendly or even remotely threatening. In my experience it has proven to be an exceptionally useful tool for developing creative solutions to social conundrums. It’s an ideal drug for facilitating dialogue, both internal and external, and my hope is that it will soften and pragmatize the DOM experience. My plan, then, is to administer 7 mg DOM orally followed by 10 mg of 2C-I nasally after the peak has begun to subside. On to the trip!
T+0:00: Thanks to a long-term friendship with an individual gainfully employed by my university’s biotechnology institute and utterly bereft of scruples, I have access to a scale accurate within 100 micrograms. Utilizing this blessed piece of equipment I could never have afforded out of my own pocket, I measure out 7 milligrams of DOM and deposit it in a 0 gelcap. I swallow the cap with a swig of Gatorade and proceed to plop down on the couch with my roommates to watch the NCAA tourney. It’s worth noting that prior to dropping I hadn’t consumed any food for around 8 hours. Though I’ve never experienced any nausea or GI distress as a result of dosing DOM, I find that consuming it on a full stomach can prolong the come-up and exacerbate the sympathetic side-effects that it entails.
T+0:20: Honestly, I’ve never been able to determine if the twinge that I always feel about 20 minutes after dosing DOM is placebo or not. I’m a little red in the face and my blood is running electric, much the way it does after a low (~5mg) dose of Adderall. One of my roommates commented that while arguing about calls in the Pitt/Xavier game we’ve all been watching I was unusually engaging and perhaps a little loud. I’m pretty sure it’s all in my mind, though, as previously I’ve never noticed any additional developments beyond this initial “alert” until another hour and fifteen minutes or so later.
T+1:30: Sure enough, nothing new up until just a few minutes ago (aside from much screaming at the television. Every year I find myself seduced into sticking Xavier into the Elite Eight because they’re so consistently on the cusp, yet every year they inevitably let me down. Bah. Such is life.). Anyhow, things are happening now, and as expected, they’re not altogether pleasant. The come-up on DOM for me resembles food poisoning minus any of the digestive distress–I’m feverish and sweating like a stuck pig, my muscles are tense and growing sore, and I’m supremely light-headed, leading to some balance and motor coordination problems. My one consolation is the maelstrom brewing outside. I live in Phoenix and consequently am all too rarely exposed to, you know, weather. Tonight, however, strong winds are gusting and it appears a thunderstorm is brewing out in the desert to the west of the city. Yippee!
T+2:45: I’ve been reading Cormac McCarthy’s Suttree for the past hour or so, waiting for the visuals to reach a crescendo and preclude me from doing so any longer. I find that outside of the two hour period surrounding the peak of a DOM trip I can focus my mind enough to prevent words from somersaulting and barrel-rolling off of the pages upon which they’re printed, so long as whatever I’m reading contains a) evocative imagery and b) subject matter to which I can personally relate. McCarthy’s dreamy and elaborate Gothic prose, and his uniquely Southern focus fulfill both of my criteria in spades (I grew up in Virginia and spent most of my summers with family in Tennessee and North Carolina). There’s something about the way his male characters endure indescribable penury and physical degradation with such unbending pride. I suppose I’m pretty old-fashioned in my construction of masculinity; subscribing to all this crap about real men being able to bear the burden of Atlas whilst never breaking a sweat or uttering a complaint. I know it’s unrealistic–the Gary-Cooper-in-High-Noon archetype is so unreasonable it’s hardly worth aspiring to–yet watching McCarthy’s characters flirt with such perfection in the face of pervasive misery makes me feel small and pathetic. Christ almighty, I’m almost on the verge of tears.
T+3:15: Peaking now. Peripheral side-effects are a thing of the past and the visual component of this trip has reached a level both profound and slightly overwhelming. Outside the storm leaves me in awe and genuflecting. While the thunderheads appear to be lingering out over the desert, the wind is so strong that I feel as though I’ve been caught in a squall on the open seas. And I can see it! The wind is a liquid medium, washing over trees and houses and lawns like a roiling wall of spring water, clean as the driven snow. Everything in its wake glistens, polished anew for my and my eyes alone to admire. And the colors! My fucking God the colors! The night sky, while I know it to be almost pitch black in actuality, appears as a velvet and undulating blanket dyed a bleeding mixture of oversaturated blues and greens and purples; a sort of synthetic Aurora Borealis. In the distance I can see bolt lighting illuminating distant clouds and ripping effervescent tears in the space-time continuum, each flash promising an infinity of promise and fascination. I feel weak and I need to lie down. More later.
T+ 4:30: Things are calming down now, portending the beginning of a long and harrowing plateau. For me this (the period between hours 4 and 10) is where DOM’s lens turns from convex to concave, directing its attention on my person rather than my surroundings. But this time I have a plan. Haha! Instead of girding my psychological loins and battening down my mental hatches as I’ve done before, I’m going to take steps–chemical steps–to ensure that this trip remains positive, productive, and utile. My mindset positive and my resolve strong, I divide a premeasured 10 mg pile of 2C-I crystals into six small piles and insufflate the lot of them over the course of about 15 minutes. Lots of people on this board have complained about the pain concomitant with sniffing 2C-I, and with good reason. Putting any more than 2-3 mg up a single nostril at once feels much like I imagine snorting Pop Rocks would. The combination of burning and tingling sensations it induces feels like it should be accompanied by cracklings and fizzlings and all sorts of other noises that simply should never be emitted by anyone’s nasal cavity in any situation. I’ve discovered, however, that dividing the snorted quantity into many small bumps to be inhaled over a protracted period of time can reduce the pain substantially. Case in point: having just finished my last line, I’m experiencing only a nagging tickling in my left nostril. As for the strength of the experience…waghahahahagyyyyyak.
T+5:30(+1:00): This isn’t exactly what I was aiming for. It’s not bad, but it’s certainly more recreational than I was hoping. The minute I polished off the 2C-I I began laughing for the first time during the trip. And I’ve pretty much been laughing ever since. The 2C-I definitely brought child-like euphoria and excitement to the table, as well as adding a bit more symmetry and design to the DOM visuals (I find that many of the patterns I observe on DOM alone aren’t really patterns at all, but rather writhing masses of tentacles/vessels/appendages that lack any real mathematical order or fractal basis). Now the room is a pulsing mess of Mandelbrotian flowers and Arabesque mosaics all lit up in DOM’s symphony of colors. It’s beautiful to the point of being hypnogogic. I can’t think.
T+11:00(+6:30): I just woke up with a start to my alarm sounding at a pitch and volume I can only imagine was devised centuries ago to awaken bloodlust in the minds and muscles of Viking warriors before battle. Uggghhhh. I fell asleep. I don’t know how, but I did. I can’t even describe the dream that I had. I was walking down a narrow road in what looked like the Appalachian Mountains, hooded and carrying a battered knapsack. In it there was no water, no food. The sun stood motionless and high in the sky and it was unbearably hot. Every few minutes a car would pass me on the road and then pull onto the shoulder. Upon catching up, the driver would roll down the passenger side window to offer me a ride. Getting into the cars proved strangely difficult, however. Soon after opening the door, I’d immediately recognize the driver as some significant figure in my life–my mother, my father, my godfather, a friend from back home, a teacher, a lover, etc.–and that recognition would trigger crippling, acute feelings of anxiety. Instead of climbing in and riding to salvation, I’d simply walk away down the road. All of the drivers would ride alongside me for a time and entreat me to join them, but I could scarcely respond. My throat would seal itself shut with a combination of nervous energy and dust kicked up off of the road and I could choke out little more than guttural grunts of deference. I don’t know what any of it means, and at the moment I’ve no time to contemplate as much. As always, real life beckons, and I’m held hostage to the dulcet tones of its crooning. So that’s all for now. Hopefully I’ll be back to amend this later.
substancecode_dom
substancecode_2ci
substancecode_phenethylamines
explevel_experienced
roacode_oral
exptype_positive
_combo_
Last edited by a moderator:
I completely agree with your perceptions of the effects of both DOM and 2C-I... well-put.
