The first few times I did DMT the group I did it with didn't have a method of smoking efficiently perfected, so I didn't really break through with 65 mg smoked on top of weed in a bowl. It was quite nice though. We've now started pouring the DMT into the bowl through the shotgun and vaporized the DMT by holding the lighter onto the bottom of the bowl. We've broken through every time with 70-80mg a pop and had wonderful experiences.
I swear their technique is still a bit off though, and I still want to make a Machine. They've recently been doing about 100mg at a time, but there's always quite a bit of unsmoked DMT in the piece.
Last night I tried 100mg for the first time. The vapor kept coming and coming, I kept going up and up, so I kept on taking lungful after lungful until I was just totally incapable of hitting it any more. Probably 5-6 really solid hits. Bad idea. Really bad. It was way too much. I was totally unprepared for it. That was probably the worst experience of my life. I'm fairly experienced and I've never had a bad trip on anything else. If it had to happen, I'm glad that it happened on DMT and ended quickly before any permanent psychological damage had been done.
The trip is really hard to describe and I cannot do it justice. Once I stopped hitting the bowl, I put on one of those "mindfold" things but I cannot recall whether my eyes were closed or open inside of it. Once I put it on, I totally lost my body and my mind and was just awareness. The visuals were classic DMT, but at the same time, they were just totally irrelevant to what I was experiencing, so they're difficult to recall as well. As I became more able to experience what was going on, all I could think was various permutations of: "what the fuck?!?", "oh my god", "I just want this to stop", "I never wanted to see or know any of this", "I will
never do this again". I knew it was just a drug experience and that I would come down, but there was still this tremendous fear. When I was able to, I took off the blindfold and told the other people in the room, "talk, please." I just wanted to be able to experience what normalcy I could so I didn't completely lose it. How could I experience what I was experiencing, and be able to live with it? I was pretty convinced that killing myself once I came down was the only obvious solution, and I really didn't want to have to do that because it would hurt everyone I love so much.
I still know exactly why I was thinking that (it's hard to explain), I think it still applies, and that scares the shit out of me. I seriously considered not speaking ever again, but as I came down I knew that that wouldn't be good for me.
I can't help but feel that the behavior of everyone I've ever known (including my own) is radically out of line with what we'd be doing if we had any clue what's going on. At the same time, if I ever do meet someone who knows what's up, I doubt I will be able to tell that that is the case.
My best friend's girlfriend came over afterward (he was one of the other folks present) and we made chocolate covered fruit chunks. I like her a lot. She's fun, really touchy/physical, and although she doesn't mind talking about drug use, she stays totally uninvolved and it was nice being able to just do and talk about totally different stuff for a few hours. We're both good foils for each other's sense of humor. I felt a lot more normal, and it was just a good balm to soothe that hellhole of a trip.
I'm still really lost, but now that I've had a chance to think about it, I recognize the place that I am. I've been lost here for quite a while. My plan now is the same as it was before. I meditate, eat very healthy, and I stay in great shape. I'll keep up with the hobbies and be as social as I can be (it's difficult). I'll finish college and get a mortgage. I love kids, and I'll have the 2.5 kids if I feel up to the job of being their dad. I just don't know what else to do.
I just want a really really really good hug, and I haven't had one of those in a while.
