Luckily I wasn't arrested. Cops arrived along with the EMTs and the cops helped restrain me. During the experience I was hallucinating that I was at a homeless shelter. I couldn't move and all of these people were hovering over me. I just see them slowly creep and then they all suddenly jump on me and pin me down. I'm screaming and fighting for my life because I think these homeless people are literally trying to smother me to death. At the time I was completely unaware that they were EMTs or cops. They must have administered the anti-psychotic there. I woke up once during the ambulance ride, then once or twice more in the hospital. Once the drug was out of my system I was free to go. Unfortunately it was during a massive snow storm and I wasnt sent to the hospital in any sort of warm clothes. So I had to walk on a broken foot in my slippers and a hospital gown in the freezing cold, wait for the bus and then walk another 30 minutes home in inches of now. It was painful and very, very humiliating.
That sounds like a traumatic experience, my condolences that you went through such a thing. I'm glad the police were just there to help and not exerting excess force. Walking home on a broken foot is wild, a much milder version of something similar happened to me. I had a skin-level phallic surgery (nothing absurd, a scar from circumcision was causing issues and just needed to be fixed), so I had something like 8 stitches surrounding the shaft in a circle. This was while I was cultivating far more mushrooms than I could give to my friends, so I was often eating them in unmeasured fistfuls, whether dry or plucked straight from the bin, with little to no care for tolerance given, my stance at the time was "well if I have a tolerance, I just need to eat even more". The homies at the apartment (we had 6-7 of us in a weird hippie commune type of deal) would eat about an ounce of mushrooms weekly, but I was probably 3-4 times that at my highest rate of consumption. That's just the context for this.
I had driven myself to the hospital, about half an hour away, maybe 1.5 miles (the whole city I lived in was 65k people in 2 square miles), and after the surgery, I got a ride home. The next day, in a mushroom laden stupor, I decided I was going to do three things:
- Eat so many mushrooms I cannot see straight for the goddamn life of me.
- Only listen to a new podcast that day as I was getting sick of my usuals (Last Podcast On The Left, Behind The Bastards, Nine Club, Some Place Under Neith, etc.) so I put on this thing called Trash Talk that I'm pretty sure dealt unironic psychic damage to me.
- Walk all the way back to the hospital, sleep in my car until I'm sobered up, and then drive my car home.
The walk was
miserable. I didn't realize that the stitches would rub inside of my pants, so to alleviate the agony I was tenting my pants up with my hands in my pockets, thankfully I had loose sweatpants on. It also began raining, and in Maine the rain is ice cold year round, so I was both drenched and quite cold, in pain with every step, because of nothing more than my foolishness. I could've just gotten a ride from a friend, or called an Uber, but for some reason I had decided to walk. This walk took me
eight entire hours. I could normally do it in half an hour at most, and typically I was navigating the city on a skateboard, longboard, or BMX bike, but that would've been even more painful than walking I bet. Maine arguably doesn't have four seasons, but instead six (the natives there got it right), and this was right in the midst of "melting season", where the winter snows are melting into slushy, muddy nonsense that makes navigating the city an absolute nightmare, even in a car.
I finally reached my car, slept off the mushrooms, and drove home by roughly sunset, and I left my apartment around the time that the sun rose.
That is an insane amount of acid. I'm surprised that you were able to fix it yourself in that state. I'm not at all surprised that that trip changed you as a person. It's good that it was for the better as it could have gone either way, but it sounds like you typically respond to psychedelics in a pretty positive manner.
I've had a bag since I was 4, and my earliest memory is at 13, so I've never known life without a bag. I'm not super shocked I could change it, if somebody without a bag could wipe their ass on a full vial that was meant to be spit up into numerous sheets, I bet I could change an ostomy appliance, you know? I think if I'd gotten it recently as a grown adult (like most people do) I would've had significantly more trouble with changing it. I definitely respond to psychedelics in a positive manner, only super potent opioids and certain anticholinergics lead to bad times, but I can't find a dissociative, cannabinoid, or psychedelic that does me dirty. 180x Salvia extracts are wonderful, eating 3.5g of THCa I decarbed was a great time, I'm a big enthusiast of ripping spice out of a box mod and I used to smoke it off the street, no amount of PCP ever did me dirty, that vial of acid or half an ounce of mushrooms or 75-100mg of 2C-B intranasally have all been nothing but profoundly positively impactful, all of these experiences have been honestly.
After that brain damage at 13 years old, I was exhibiting tons of signs of schizphrenia until I was 19-20, when I realized that smoking weed made me normal for 3-4 days. I found it really peculiar, and antipsychotics did jack shit for me for some reason. My psychiatrist eventually had me to go a neurologist, so I had a "medical team" working on the case by that point, and the conclusion that they came to was that I likely have a demyelination disorder caused by the fact that from the ages of 4 to 17, I did not absorb a single bit of B12, which is necessary for your body to create and maintain neurons, and it caused some pretty serious damage (on top of the surgically induced brain damage) which I've used psychedelics to recover. After years of frequent and high dose psychedelic use, my brain scans were finally able to be interpreted. My docs said that people with a lot of brain damage have sort of incomprehensible scans, but mine went back to normal after I'd cleared maybe 5-6 sheets of acid, about a pound and a half of mushrooms, a variety of RC psychedelics, a few grams of PCP, and maybe a quarter ounce to half ounce of vaporized DMT on top of daily ayahuasca for 8-10 months, all within the course of something like 2-2.5 years from 22-24 years old.
That is great to know, I appreciate the info. I'll be sure to experience the Foxy on its own and maybe save a dissociative for the comedown if I still feel like it. Feral Acid sounds amazing to me. I love it when psychedelics make me feel animalistic. "Return to monkey" my friend and I call these trips. 4-HO-MIPT has a characteristic where it brings me in touch with my animal roots. Makes me feel like a somewhat intelligent ape, dissolves my human complex.
Foxy is definitely a "return to monkey" type of drug. It honestly has a lot in common with miprocin (4-HO-MiPT). and they mix together fantastically.
I think there may be a typo here?
Yeah, sorry I was sipping a heady dose of etizolam when I wrote that message, on top of the MDMB-4en-PINACA box mod which isn't the best for not making typos haha. I was asking about how you'd compare pregabalin to gabapentin, carisoprodol, or any benzodiazepines, as I've yet to encounter pregabalin but I've spent a lot of time with the latter three groups.
How in the hell were you at work on 24mg of Foxy? You never cease to amaze me
Well I thought I had a bunk batch, but it turns out it was just residual tolerance from 25I-NBOMe/25C-NBOMe/LSD. I viewed it as a mild stimulant at most, so I insufflated 24mg before going to work one day as as "mild energy boost". I proceeded to trip fucking balls at the office, my entire day was just doing inventory three times over, since we did two runs (one for the old inventory system, one for the new one), then a final one making sure that they both were aligned with one another. I was shaking pretty uncontrollably, my handwriting resembled that of somebody with early stage Parkinson's disease, it was pretty illegible. I had an absolutely fantastic time, my field of view was narrowed as if somebody had played with the FOV setting in Minecraft almost, and the visuals appeared at that dose as oddly phenethylamine-like but with a DMT sort of touch. I find DiPT to resemble foxy in a way, but foxy does not seem to resemble DiPT, it's this peculiar one sided reflection that reminds me more of inheritance than mimicry, if that makes sense. I appreciate the compliment too, the "You never cease to amaze me" thing, I have received a few comments from people in my life along the lines of "Man, I could never go to work as a software engineer on ayahuasca/LSD/vaping DMT all day/3g of oral THC/8g of mushrooms", but honestly I kind of thrive in that environment, and as long as I don't have to drive to get to work, I'm all set tripping in the workplace.
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