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Mescaline (t. pachanoi) - Mind serration

phoenixrain88

Bluelighter
Joined
Jun 7, 2008
Messages
81
I made tea out of a 9"x3" San Pedro cutting. I drank this in several different spurts, starting around 12 noon and ending around 3pm. My mind was quietly humming along in a pleasing and unusual way, but I wasn't hallucinating. I strolled down a woodland path with trees and animals popping out in such crisp and vigorous detail. The vigor, the life, of everything around me filled me with a quiet joy.

About an hour after that, I smoked some weed with a group of friends.

Immediately everything was wrong.

I began insisting that I needed to leave now. Another person who was smoking with me was having what appeared to be a panic attack, talking about how the weed might have been laced, how PCP can kill you, all of that. His panic infected me.

Lacking a cell phone, I borrowed a toking buddy's. I called a friend to come pick me up. I ran outside and suddenly was lost in the neighborhood. There was no context to anything, my surroundings boggled my mind, I didn't understand, I didn't understand!

I jogged down the street, afraid to run because my heart was pounding so fast and so hard that I thought it might explode, and then saw that the friend who had come to pick me up was already further down the street than I was, headed in the opposite direction.

"Wait," I said. And as full awareness of my impotence, of my inability to attract notice and to be picked up, swept through me, I began to scream. I was screaming at the top of my lungs in this residential neighborhood, and I was tripping. I knew that I was having a heart attack. It was like the panic attack I had the one time I mixed acid and weed except WORSE, exponentially worse!

I knew that I was about to die. My shrieking seemed to take on physical form, shards ripping out through my throat, and nobody cared to hear me, nobody cared to help me, surrounded by people but utterly, utterly isolated. The ragged edges of my scream being pulled out from inside of me materialized as black and red threads tracing the air in front of my mouth.

I ran up to a random car in which a woman was sitting. I actually pulled her door open. Pulled her car door open!! She could have maced me or called the police or anything! That I would do such a thing, rip open the door of a car to yell at someone I didn't even know that she needed to call 911 because I was dying of a drug overdose, conveys the absolute panic and the gnawing, screaming feeling of imminent death which had overtaken me. I was blacking out on my feet and falling into death and I couldn't breathe, I could feel every fiber of my lungs being starved.

The woman called 911 and an ambulance came. My blood pressure is usually 90/60 but was 150/100. My heart rate when I was lying down was 160.

I calmed down. It took about 20 minutes, but I calmed down.

And once in the hospital, I was TRIPPING MY FACE OFF.

The speckling of the hospital tile flooring was arranging itself into the most gorgeous and ornate constellations. Colors were strobing in the auras of objects.

I completely and perfectly noticed and understood the body language of every human being in the vicinity. I was at an intellectual peak. I realized that ordinarily I pay almost no attention to body language etc., that I have no self-confidence whatsoever but that I really ought to. Oh, yes, I had all sorts of illuminating revelations 'n shit.

I ended up coming home and lying on my bed in my dark room and seeing strange and beautiful flowings and etchings and colors and spirals.

substancecode_cactus
substancecode_trichocereuspachanoi
substancecode_mescaline
 
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You had a panic attack. But out of curiosity, what did the doctors tell you happened?
Hopefully they weren't bitchy to you there
So awful to feel scared and lonely in a hospital while hallucinating :\
 
Hallucinating in the hospital was the best part of the trip. It was that feeling of dying beforehand -- the bleakest, most inevitable, most sneeringly condescending quale -- which made my mind feel like it was being serrated.

I got an EKG and was then released. The doctor clearly believed I didn't need to be there, and was correct. The cop at the ER told me straight up that he was not interested in pursuing the matter. He was a cool dude.

I used to kind of roll my eyes at talk of "chronic anxiety" and "panic attacks," associating them with melodrama and hysterical hypochondria. My growing archive of "drugs gone awry" has corrected that belief. A panic attack is one of the more horrifying experiences in the repertoire of human feeling.
 
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Yea doctors are so bitchy towards druggies.
Sorry I'm not really dying, but last I checked it was your job so be polite :p

interesting.
do you normally smoke weed?

Should be more like do you roll?
Since x is what gives you anxiety not weed..
 
X? What? I didn't take any ecstasy, I took mescaline.

I've had plenty of anxious episodes on weed -- thinking people were going to kill me, crazy power line paranoia, everyone is laughing at me and hates me and I'm vile, that sort of thing -- but never, ever like what happened when I combined mescaline and weed.

However, looking back at how damned cool the trip became after my panic had left me -- well, there's nothing else I can even compare it to. Mescaline is the coolest fucking thing ever.

My two years of smoking pot have injected into my sober life an edge of hideous anxiety, in addition to a general cognitive fog and difficulty remembering (while sober, mind you), neither of which existed prior to my smoking weed. A net loss.

To answer the questions in brief: yes, I've smoked a great deal; yes, I've experienced significant anxiety from weed; and I'm thinking the person posting about X is confusing mescaline and MDMA.
 
This thread should be titled "Weed on Mescaline." The weed is what triggered the bad trip. Don't give medicine a bad name...
 
Exactly one week after my trip, I had a sober episode that exactly mimicked the panic portion of my mescaline trip. I was walking home from work and suddenly everything was sinister and stretched out and wrong. Then things began blurring and the bubbles were in my chest and I couldn't breathe. I ran into the middle of the road and then across to a sidewalk and tried to flag down a bus but it sped past. I ran up to someone's door and rang the bell frantically but nobody came.

I want to describe exactly the physical sensation: walking along, feeling -- strange. Dissociated from my own body. Not really present. Five minutes of this sort of walking, and then -- my hand flew to my chest of its own accord, and I felt my own heartbeat double and then triple in speed. Everything blurred, I did the things I described in that last paragraph. I realized I had a cell phone and I called my mom to come pick me up. (I'm 18 and living at home.) I sat down on the curb waiting, still half-panicking, called my boyfriend just to hear his voice.

Another episode Monday, again walking to work, though taking a different route. However, I must describe how I felt prior to that episode, on that same Monday. I woke up feeling like shit, but within an hour I was filled with a blistering, sparking energy, and the feeling of being dissociated from my own body filled me. I lost feeling in my extremities, along with totally dissociating in and out of thought, in a way I haven't done since early childhood. I went to an art museum.

Tuesday -- dissociated feeling, lack of sensation in extremities, along with a pinching feeling and a pressure in my chest, "heart pain" as I thought of it. And then, at the very end of my shift at work ... suddenly I was tripping. I was tripping on acid again, something I have not done in many many months. It was horrifying in how complete and overwhelming and surprising the sudden transition from sober-full-of-strange-energy to tripping-tripping-tripping. I don't think that sentence made sense but I'm going to leave it. I looked at my boss, my coworker, and their gestures and facial expressions stood out in sharp relief, as though etched against granite. I could see fully what they were feeling, though their thoughts were of course opaque. I was paying attention effortlessly and accurately which, as a creature of my own head, I generally do not do.

My shift ended. I shuffled very slowly, afraid that if I walked quickly I was going to faint or have a heart attack or have a stroke, somehow I was on the cusp of death.

Wednesday -- I don't even remember Wednesday. As I'm typing this my chest is bubbling again all of a sudden though I at least am breathing normally. Anyway, don't remember Wednesday. Wednesday is when I stopped sleeping. Didn't sleep Wednesday night. And -- shit, I just realized! I only slept two or three hours Tuesday night as well!! So two hours Tuesday night and another two Wednesday night. Thursday, perhaps an hour. And last night, none at all!!!! The bubbling feeling and the chest pain are almost omnipresent. I am full of this crackling and mad energy, it ebbs and flows completely irrespective of the external, operating on some clock of its own. I am not hungry or sleepy. I eat only to control anxiety and I try to sleep only because I can't stand to be awake any longer, I feel like my mind is cracking open. I can't take this and I wish I had never smoked weed while tripping on mescaline because that sense of sheer PANIC had never gripped me before the way it did during that hell of a trip and now it's happening all. the fucking. TIME!!!!
 
In short: I've done no drugs for six days and I am constantly feeling like I took too many Ritalin and Adderall. And the feeling of imminent death has become a constant companion.
 
You need to see a doctor. I think you have some sort of underlying problem that isn't related to mescaline. Seriously, see a doctor.
 
Yea doctors are so bitchy towards druggies.
Sorry I'm not really dying, but last I checked it was your job so be polite :p



Should be more like do you roll?
Since x is what gives you anxiety not weed..

i can NOT smoke weed. i gives me anxiety, and i'll lay it all out in a TR someday... next time one of my low life friends gets me to take a puff.
 
I need to see a doctor so badly. I haven't slept in more than five days and I have this hideous energy that is pulsing through me and whenever I am about to fall asleep suddenly my throat locks up and my heart starts pounding and there are voices in my head. There is this roiling current of filth polluting the whole world. I'm pretty sure it's all true.

I'm pretty sure there is some filthy unspeakable purpose animating the over-consciousness of the world and that after death only the most untold horror can await. I'm pretty sure because the intuitive feeling, oh my GOD it's like the blood is boiling in the back of my brain and all the hairs on my body stand straight up, and that is how I know when something learned in a panic is true.

I'm tired of feeling like an entity in my own mind is trying to kill me. I think I am developing schizophrenia and I cannot stand any more of the voices and the paranoia and the loathing, it used to be only while I was on drugs and now it's all. the. time.

I don't know how to adequately explain this to anyone. I don't want to go over the top in describing what I'm really feeling and be put onto some seriously body-destroying pharms. But I don't want to minimize and have it all dismissed as "just anxiety." Jesus fucking CHRIST this is so much more than just anxiety! At the risk of wallowing in cliche, nobody in my real-world life UNDERSTANDS, nor is capable of understanding. Nobody! Any more than I could have understood prior to starting to experience this sick metamorphosis myself.
 
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Yes, please see a doctor. Maybe you don't want to be on pharms, and maybe it's not necessary... But it is necessary to know and understand what you are going through and to know what options are available and what they mean and why.

Maybe this will go away on its own if you stay sober (sounds like you should stay away from pot/psychedelics for good), but don't take the chance to find out without professional help.
 
This is probably irrelevant but a few days ago i ate around 50g of dried and ground up san pedro over a 9 hour period and around the 12th hour I smoked a few bowls. all it did was make my heart rate jumpy and seem to make my trip peak, like colors were more vivid but it was dark out haha. not sure what triggered buddy's panic attack. my sentencing sucks

I just actually read the last few posts, ftw? troll? maybe you got a brain bubble (haha)
 
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Weed could have easily induced a panic attack. Its been known to cause anxiety and panic attacks in people. I've seen it cause experienced smokers to freak out when they were on psychs, some people just cant handle a mix.

I have been a pot smoker for about 15years, and in all those years I have had one major panic attack, which was actually within the last few months.

I never thought it was possible since I had smnoked so long daily, but it is.

A close friend of mine loaded up me a personal bong bowl, that was almost full to the brim with kief, along with just a small amount of pot in the bottom to keep it from sucking through. We had already smoked a few bowls before this, but I took the hit like a champ. It looked almost like sugar, lol was waaaay too much keif, but tasted amazing.

Instantly I began getting all weirded out and began to wonder if it was laced with something like 5-meo-amt, at the same time thinking to myself, "nah he doesn't know where to get that shit, he barely knows what rc means". WOW I was having a bad episode, I have GAD as it is, but weed has NEVER done that, not sure what set it off but I had the same feelings you were describing.

-Noddy
 
Weed has brought back paranoid and anxious states I thought I had left with previous trips, so often so now I can only smoke my own weak outdoor plants, skunk and more potent strains are too much of a risk for me now
 
It's been almost a year. I've recovered. Psilocybin mushrooms and ayahuasca have played a major role in my recovery, as has cutting out pot.

For months after the mescaline experience I was dependent on downers -- benzodiazepines, opioids, alcohol -- just to not feel panicked. The return to normalcy has been slow and arduous. But thank God I wasn't stuck in schizophrenia.

I've mostly cut out downers, and don't sleep too well, but my thinking is getting to be as clear as it was before I'd ever tried drugs; clearer, even, because for all the attendant fear and loathing, psychedelics have overall helped me to understand the world in a calmer and more rational way.
 
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