Xorkoth
Bluelight Crew
Sitting in a dark room in 2016, I reached into a tin, picked out a bag of dichloro-methylphenidate, dropped an estimated bump on my tongue and went about what I was doing.
At some point, not long after this, a candelabra in the corner of my bedroom began disintegrating into golden pollen, then there were bees, and butterflies and too many other startlements to tell.
I looked down at the camphor table and the bold black text on the bag remained seared across my vision even after I looked away.
DOC
I had picked out the wrong bag, taken an unknown dose of the strongest psychedelic in my arsenal. I'd heard stories of others who had been hospitalized or died by a few milligrams.
I ate benzos, quietly accepted a fate beyond my control and ended up having an incredible experience (after a great deal of panic had run it's course).
I was always so careful when dealing with DOC. Gloves, disposable spoons, washing down every surface within 10 metres.. I never accounted for something as simple as mispicking a bag though.
Ouch.

One time when I was tripping balls on 4 strong hits of LSD on top of 75mg of AMT, at a music festival, and was freaking out and having an existential panic attack already, I dosed 2mg of DOC from my bottle, meaning to dose 2mg of etizolam. Which obviously greatly increased my panic. I dosed the 2mg of etizolam (had my friend verify it was actually etizolam this time since it was dark and my field of vision was whatever I was imagining, it was impossible to really see details). 20 minutes later and the panic disappeared, and I proceeded to have 2 days and nights straight of one of the best trips of my life (no sleep of course). Words cannot even describe how wonderful of a time it was.