Jamshyd
Bluelight Crew
It dawned upon me to share my experience with a substance that I normally don’t talk about much. I suppose I had a sort of a flashback of the experience that I normally would not remember so vividly. This is not without good reason, though, for MDMA is on the whole more negative than it is positive for me.
I’ve had a total of 9 experiences with Ecstasy – all before the recent explosion of the “RC” market alternatives (after which I swore it off altogether), and although I think one or two dodgy pills I got probably had MDA in them, the majority of my pills were given to me by friends whom I trust and who have the whole shebang of testing reagents. Some were cut with meth - I was informed accordingly, and my experiences with such pills aren’t even worth discussing. The problem is that ALL of these, especially the ones with MDA and the ones with Meth, would produce a crash for me that would last at least a couple of weeks, during which I’d get debilitating depression and even suicidal ideation.
But this report is about my best experience with a single pill. I was told by the friend who gave it to me that it contained a medium dose of MDMA and nothing else. I remember that night clearly – not the night I took the pill, but rather the night I procured it! I had given said friend a dose of AMT in exchange, and he and a couple of his buddies indulged in both chemicals against my advice (nothing bad happened, fortunately). I on the other hand, for some retarded, otherworldly reason, decided not to participate in this party with two hot gay men and their hot straight friend all on powerful empathogens, and instead took some Valium and proceeded into dull, dumb, amnesic sleep! Don’t ask. Suffice to say I woke up the next morning to sucking and moaning sounds and discovered two of them going at it real hard in front of me, still buzzed on AMT no doubt... I also discovered the straight guy sleeping with a puddle of Nitrous Oxide canisters surrounding him. It was amusing.
But I digress. The pill remained in my pocket until the proceeding weekend. It was a small, well-pressed, peach-coloured, convex pill with a Louise Vuiton Logo indented on one side. It was the year ‘04 if memory serves, and I had just returned from a weekend of drugs and friends in Toronto, where I got said pill. I was looking forward to this all week and on Saturday or Sunday evening, I decided the timing was perfect and proceeded to chew the pill. It tasted like a serving of pure horror with a pinch of anise. So I forced it down. The plan was to go for a walk so I got ready and just as I was about to head out I felt a sudden bowel movement and decided it would be best to use the washroom before heading out.
As I stood up from the toilet seat, I experienced a head-rush and didn’t think much of it. But as I was washing my hands, my head started feeling lighter and lighter as though it was a balloon filling up with gas. This happened rapidly, and with it came a mild panic attack. I found it difficult to walk and experienced a loud ringing in my ears. I lay down on my bed, with beads of sweat forming on my eyebrow, and I decided that this was definitely not pleasant. Maybe the pills were cut with something that I have an adverse reaction to. Maybe I’m having a heart-attack. At this point I was feeling a lot of anxiety with hot and cold flushes and some vertigo (and a slight nausea with it).
This unpleasantness multiplied and intensified until it reached a certain point where my head felt like it will explode, and it was at that point when everything changed.
Sudddenly, it felt as if all that pressure that had been building in my head suddenly burst out of the crown, and showered down on me with a wave of resplendent, radiating joy. I opened my eyes (they were closed tightly because of the vertigo a moment ago) to find everything literally rose-coloured, and that anytime I set my eyes on something they’d start vibrating and rolling back into my head. It took me a few moments to comprehend such a sudden shift, and when I finally did, I moved one hand. Never has moving a hand felt so… profound. I moved the other hand almost instinctively and touched the tips of my index fingers together.
I took a long, deep breath. I had to. Waves of absolute joy radiated from my fingertips and spread throughout my body. At this point I do not remember much beside the fact that the world was pink and bouncing all over the place, a gigantic smile, tinnitus drowning any sound from without, and back arched upwards in such pleasure that I had never imagined possible before.
I felt as though the most obvious thing to do was to hug myself. So I did. Another deep breath. I ran my hands around my shoulders and down my arms, and found myself moaning in pleasure – mind you, it was not sexual pleasure at all (hence my avoidance of using “orgasmic” as an adjective). It was a pleasure of a completely different kind, and I’m afraid I can only do the honest thing and call it Chemical Pleasure.
It took me a while to hear my mother calling me downstairs. I somehow managed to exhale “…euh??”. She was asking me why I didn’t go out for the walk I said I was heading out on. I somehow was able to convey coherently that I felt sleepy, or something, and she went back to do whatever she was doing.
Meanwhile, I continued the hugging and the wiggling and breathing for a very long time. There was really nothing else to do. It was a rare chance for me to completely and unconditionally love myself, and I took it.
At least two hours had passed before I stopped that. Now I had my eyes back in control. I just stopped and closed my eyes and felt what was going on. I felt a profound physical and mental relaxation that I had never felt before. I just lay there and breathed and basked in this glorious joy. It felt as though I had a four-month vacation in the space of four hours. I was laying in an imaginary hammock, with not a single worry in the world. Interestingly, the bulk of the experience was focused inward – I spent it loving myself. I have no problem loving others when sober, but myself? … That is a difficult one.
Around three hours later it was beginning to wear off. That was the first time I stood up since I had lay down when it started. I really did not want this to end so soon. I decided to take a small risk and measure out 15mg of 2C-D, and took it rectally. Of course, it did not burn at all (it usually does), and no more than fifteen minutes later I found myself back up to the same plateau! I was so happy it worked, and at this level it produced almost no effect of its own – merely prolonged the MDMA. Perhaps the only difference is that I started turning outward and wrote a bunch of sincere emails to several friends. Around four hours after that, the 2C-D started wearing off, but at this point I was satisfied and ready to go to bed.
It is worthy of note that while I did experience some depression the following week, it was not nearly as bad as all my other experiences. All of my subsequent trials with E and MDMA powder were attempts to recapture this one, and although I managed to get a couple of other interesting experiences, I never quite came back to this place, ever. By the 9th time (a bad trip), I had all but abandoned it. Little did I know that a few years later I would discover an even more visceral joy in Heroin, but that's another story for another day.
I’ve had a total of 9 experiences with Ecstasy – all before the recent explosion of the “RC” market alternatives (after which I swore it off altogether), and although I think one or two dodgy pills I got probably had MDA in them, the majority of my pills were given to me by friends whom I trust and who have the whole shebang of testing reagents. Some were cut with meth - I was informed accordingly, and my experiences with such pills aren’t even worth discussing. The problem is that ALL of these, especially the ones with MDA and the ones with Meth, would produce a crash for me that would last at least a couple of weeks, during which I’d get debilitating depression and even suicidal ideation.
But this report is about my best experience with a single pill. I was told by the friend who gave it to me that it contained a medium dose of MDMA and nothing else. I remember that night clearly – not the night I took the pill, but rather the night I procured it! I had given said friend a dose of AMT in exchange, and he and a couple of his buddies indulged in both chemicals against my advice (nothing bad happened, fortunately). I on the other hand, for some retarded, otherworldly reason, decided not to participate in this party with two hot gay men and their hot straight friend all on powerful empathogens, and instead took some Valium and proceeded into dull, dumb, amnesic sleep! Don’t ask. Suffice to say I woke up the next morning to sucking and moaning sounds and discovered two of them going at it real hard in front of me, still buzzed on AMT no doubt... I also discovered the straight guy sleeping with a puddle of Nitrous Oxide canisters surrounding him. It was amusing.
But I digress. The pill remained in my pocket until the proceeding weekend. It was a small, well-pressed, peach-coloured, convex pill with a Louise Vuiton Logo indented on one side. It was the year ‘04 if memory serves, and I had just returned from a weekend of drugs and friends in Toronto, where I got said pill. I was looking forward to this all week and on Saturday or Sunday evening, I decided the timing was perfect and proceeded to chew the pill. It tasted like a serving of pure horror with a pinch of anise. So I forced it down. The plan was to go for a walk so I got ready and just as I was about to head out I felt a sudden bowel movement and decided it would be best to use the washroom before heading out.
As I stood up from the toilet seat, I experienced a head-rush and didn’t think much of it. But as I was washing my hands, my head started feeling lighter and lighter as though it was a balloon filling up with gas. This happened rapidly, and with it came a mild panic attack. I found it difficult to walk and experienced a loud ringing in my ears. I lay down on my bed, with beads of sweat forming on my eyebrow, and I decided that this was definitely not pleasant. Maybe the pills were cut with something that I have an adverse reaction to. Maybe I’m having a heart-attack. At this point I was feeling a lot of anxiety with hot and cold flushes and some vertigo (and a slight nausea with it).
This unpleasantness multiplied and intensified until it reached a certain point where my head felt like it will explode, and it was at that point when everything changed.
Sudddenly, it felt as if all that pressure that had been building in my head suddenly burst out of the crown, and showered down on me with a wave of resplendent, radiating joy. I opened my eyes (they were closed tightly because of the vertigo a moment ago) to find everything literally rose-coloured, and that anytime I set my eyes on something they’d start vibrating and rolling back into my head. It took me a few moments to comprehend such a sudden shift, and when I finally did, I moved one hand. Never has moving a hand felt so… profound. I moved the other hand almost instinctively and touched the tips of my index fingers together.
I took a long, deep breath. I had to. Waves of absolute joy radiated from my fingertips and spread throughout my body. At this point I do not remember much beside the fact that the world was pink and bouncing all over the place, a gigantic smile, tinnitus drowning any sound from without, and back arched upwards in such pleasure that I had never imagined possible before.
I felt as though the most obvious thing to do was to hug myself. So I did. Another deep breath. I ran my hands around my shoulders and down my arms, and found myself moaning in pleasure – mind you, it was not sexual pleasure at all (hence my avoidance of using “orgasmic” as an adjective). It was a pleasure of a completely different kind, and I’m afraid I can only do the honest thing and call it Chemical Pleasure.
It took me a while to hear my mother calling me downstairs. I somehow managed to exhale “…euh??”. She was asking me why I didn’t go out for the walk I said I was heading out on. I somehow was able to convey coherently that I felt sleepy, or something, and she went back to do whatever she was doing.
Meanwhile, I continued the hugging and the wiggling and breathing for a very long time. There was really nothing else to do. It was a rare chance for me to completely and unconditionally love myself, and I took it.
At least two hours had passed before I stopped that. Now I had my eyes back in control. I just stopped and closed my eyes and felt what was going on. I felt a profound physical and mental relaxation that I had never felt before. I just lay there and breathed and basked in this glorious joy. It felt as though I had a four-month vacation in the space of four hours. I was laying in an imaginary hammock, with not a single worry in the world. Interestingly, the bulk of the experience was focused inward – I spent it loving myself. I have no problem loving others when sober, but myself? … That is a difficult one.
Around three hours later it was beginning to wear off. That was the first time I stood up since I had lay down when it started. I really did not want this to end so soon. I decided to take a small risk and measure out 15mg of 2C-D, and took it rectally. Of course, it did not burn at all (it usually does), and no more than fifteen minutes later I found myself back up to the same plateau! I was so happy it worked, and at this level it produced almost no effect of its own – merely prolonged the MDMA. Perhaps the only difference is that I started turning outward and wrote a bunch of sincere emails to several friends. Around four hours after that, the 2C-D started wearing off, but at this point I was satisfied and ready to go to bed.
It is worthy of note that while I did experience some depression the following week, it was not nearly as bad as all my other experiences. All of my subsequent trials with E and MDMA powder were attempts to recapture this one, and although I managed to get a couple of other interesting experiences, I never quite came back to this place, ever. By the 9th time (a bad trip), I had all but abandoned it. Little did I know that a few years later I would discover an even more visceral joy in Heroin, but that's another story for another day.
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![:\](https://bluelight.org/xf/BL_Images/Orig_Emoji/wrygrin.gif "wry grin :\")
