Life_is_Grand
Greenlighter
- Joined
- Jun 23, 2016
- Messages
- 2
(Alprazolam) + (Lorazepam) + (hydrocodone) + (hydroxyzine) + (Dextromethorphan) + (Psilocybin) - Experienced - To sigma and beyond (or how I tried to kill myself)
Heck of a thread title eh? I apologize in advance for my grammar not begin up to my usual level. My brain still isn't working correctly after this wild ride I went on. I also want to say that I did some very irresonable things here that I'm not proud of and that I've been suicidal for most of my life. I try to hold it together and put on a good face and help everyone that I can in this world but sometimes I have a mental break. I tried to seek help a few times but I found nothing but contempt. I refuse to be locked away in a padded room somewhere stripped of my rights, I am sure if I were ever properly screened and were totally honest they'd throw me in a nut house somewhere, keep me doped up on Zyprexa, and throw away the key.
I'm just too damn smart for my own good I reckon. I've always been different, I've never been able to truly connect with anyone. Since I was a boy I've always felt like I was an alien. You people aren't like me and I can never be like you.
Sound nuts? It probably does. I don't mean to sound that way...that's just how I am. How about I stop rambling and get on with my story? The events below are 100% true, at least to the best of my ability to remember them. The happened over the course of two or three days. Sadly, I will be unable to tell you how much I took of what, hell I don't even know if I've listed all the substances I consumed. There will be back story, I will not be posting this under my usual username. I'm sure some of you will know who I am (Xor/Tricomb I'm looking at y'all).
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Some back story:
Up until a few months ago my life seemed to be going in a pretty direction that it had been for a long time. I had finally settled into my new home after moving for the second time in as many years. I was in my old stomping grounds and everything seemed like it was going my way. I had spent the year before doing way too much LSD at festivals and having the time of my life. I'd kicked my opioid habit and was working on quitting cannabis and getting a career.
Three months ago a switch flipped and it seemed like nothing was going my way. Bad things started happening one after another and it just kind of snow balled. I had to throw a long time friend out of my home because of his heroin addiction, when I refused to give him money for more heroin he assulted a mutual friend and left me with no choice. I grabbed the shotgun in the corner of the room before he could get to it, he charged me and tripped in the process, I froze like a deer in the headlights. He picked himself up and left. I was so close to killing him...and it messed my head up. I didn't want to kill him but he'd left me no choice and I still can't figure out why I didn't pull the trigger.
Perhaps I still care for that piece of shit. I've always been too soft.
A week later my Grandfather fell ill and my Grandmother was going to have major back surgery done. The doctor said she wouldn't be able to walk in a year or two if they didn't go in there and fuse some stuff together. Something about the nerves in her back begin compressed. I just knew it was serious and we were looking at a lot of recovery time.
The care of them both fell to me begin the eldest grandchild. This is something I had no issues with and considered it my duty. What I did take issue with was the fact that I got zero help from my brother with this. It was like he didn't even fucking care about them.
Anyway, eventually Grandma came home and Grandpap started doing a little better but he's dying and I know it. I've known it for three years, I can see it in his eyes, the way he talks...everything. What's worse is I am a total failure in his eyes. Why don't you have a good job, a sports car, a woman, and some youngin's? As if those are things I can just find around the damn corner.
Shortly after Grandma came home I got a call from my old job. My lead man had died of a heart attack at work. He was 40 years old and was pretty much my only friend down there. I didn't even find out he'd died until a month after it happened.
Grandma got sent home with all the usual suspects. Grandpap had a nice stash too. I had to manage their meds and refused to partake in any but eventually the addict came out and the stress got to be too much. That's where the story begins.
This is already long and it's going to get longer so I'll try to skip a head a little. I'd been taking a bit of xanax here and there from one of the bottles they had laying around. Mostly because my nerves were shot but also to help me sleep. This snowballed and eventually I was eating a lot of the stuff a day and started getting back into the pain killers. I justified it because Grandma was trying not to take it. They had 100's of the damn things and all the refills in the world. She probably noticed but I never took enough where I felt like I was leaving her in pain. Yes I know I'm an ass hole and a shitty Grandson.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
The binge started innocently enough. I had my own stash of pills at this point to take as needed. I counted out about 10mg of xanax, some ativan, and 50mg or so of hydrocodone. I was stuck at the home all weekend without much to do but lay around. I sent my friend a message on facebook that afternoon:
I started with about 2mg and we talked for awhile longer. Eventually I after 3-4mg more and decided to go sun bathing at my grandmother's pool. I was already on the verge of begin blacked out but I still have a good memory of what was going on at that point.
I realized my stash wasn't going to be enough to keep the train rolling. I walked up to the house and to my surprise no one was home. I stole some more pills, not sure how many.
I kept eating ativan, xanax, and hydros for a few more hours. I ended up walking back to my Grandmother's for the keys to the farm truck. She called me out on begin fucked up right then and there. I said I'd drank a bunch of liquor and she allowed me to walk back to my house as long as I promised not to drive.
I was pretty sure she knew I was fucked up on pills because everyone in the family knows I'm an addict at this point. When I got home I decided it might be a good idea to lock up all the guns, so I did. I passed out for a few hours.
I woke up sometime around midnight and gobbled down some more pills. I also raided the community pot stash in the barn and smoked a joint. I decided I'd like to go for a drive so I got in the truck and off a went.
I drove around the back roads for some time. I don't remember much of the drive other than I was seeing double but seemed to be going a long just fine. It's both a blessing and a curse that driving is a natual ability for me. I know everyone over vaules themselves when it comes to this but trust me; I could run around Talledega speedway in a Winston Cup out of my mind on MXE and probably win the damn race. I don't advocate driving under the influence but I've done it before and will probably do it again. I hope to God I don't end up killing someone.
Anyway, my plan for suicide was always to wreck my car on one of the backroads. I think that might have been why I drove around for some long...this way it doesn't go down as a suicide since they can't prove intent. I probably pussied out like I've done countless times in the past.
At about 1am I found myself in the parking lot of the local Wal-Mart. I don't know why I went there in the first place but the thought of buying some DXM seemed like a good idea. I remember stumbling inside and spending a long time looking at the various DXM products searching for one with no additives. A woman asked if I was finding everything okay and I told her I was fine, just felt like shit and needed something for a cough. She left me a lone.
I'm honestly not sure if I bought the DXM or stole it. I remember taking a massive shit in the bathroom while I was there. Someone followed me in and there was another guy taking a dump in the stall next to me. I think I either stole some of them or all of them because I can't imagine anyone selling 6 bottles of robogels to someone that looked obviously fucked up.
After leaving the bathroom I did some shopping. I bought some soda and some food to eat. I was too confused to use the self check out and they had to send someone over to help me. No one stopped me when I walked out, hopped in my truck, and set off for home.
I didn't even wait to get home. I started eating robogels by the handful on the way home. I made it there without any issues, took some more xanax, and finished off another half bottle of the robogels. I estimate that first dose was around 500mg which is more than enough to put me up in the third platuea. I counted out 300mg to take when I felt I'd peaked from the first dose.
I planned on listening to some music while I tried to figure out how I was going to put my life back together. As crazy as it sounds I was attempting to do the best I could with what I had. It was either this or a bullet to the head.
My memory goes fuzzy again in the two or so hours it took for the first of the gels to start taking effect. Eventually they did and hit me like a frieght train. I sent a message to a friend on facebook at 4am or so and attempted to have a conversasion:
After that I left the computer for 2 hours or so and listened to some music. I had incredible visions/CEVs that I could have written an entire trip report about. I won't go into the full details but that's what I loved and missed about the drug when I was forced to stop using it years ago due to all the side effects. I was happy to have made it back to that magical place.
The mix I loaded up only lasted for 2 hours (Happy Hardcore) and when the music stopped I suddenly snapped back to reality. At this point I got up and took the other 300mg I'd laid aside. I also laid aside 200mg more in case I wanted to go deeper. I wasn't thinking straight at the time and didn't realize I was putting myself on a train ride to Sigma.
I messaged my friend again, this was the last time I talked to anyone during the expereince that I can recall, by this point it was already dawn local time:
After that spectacular failure I decided it best to close facebook (Thank God). I put on another mix of happy hardcore and relocated to the bed. That lasted for maybe an hour before I grew bored with the music, it was becoming too much. I got up and ate more DXM, I think about 400mg since I remember breaking into another bottle. I also remember smoking a joint and having a cigarette.
The cigarette grounded me for a bit and for the first time all morning I looked around at the room. It was already a damn mess, and there was shit out of place everywhere. I had unlocked the gun safe and retrived a pistol, which was laying in bed next to me. I have no memory of doing this.
The room was melting...it reminded me of the visuals I once got from a high dose of LSD I had taken in Asheville. When a kind hippy handed me a strip and I just ate it because I guess I'm a self destructive ass hole like that. I felt like things were going very very very wrong at this point. DXM had never really given me OEVs before aside from double vision and this was on an entirely different level. I wasn't afraid but I knew perhaps I wouldn't be coming back with all my IQ points this time around.
I take more ativan and xanax to try to calm things down. This only served to cause me to black out for a few hours. When I came back to I'd consumed more of the robogels and I now had a rifle on the bed with me in addition to the pistol. I also had my drug box on there with me which was short a bag of mushrooms, I don't know if I ate those too or if they're simply lost in the mess that is my bedroom. I haven't wanted to go back in there to look for them.
I had a moment of clairty at this point. I accepted that I did want to die. My rifle spoke to me and asked that I didn't kill myself with it because it was my Grandfather's and he'd given it to me because he knew I was take good care of him. The rifle said my Grandfather was going to die soon but he'd die of a broken heart sooner if I shot myself. The rifle said that I should use the pistol but only if the pistol agreed.
The pistol refused to speak with me, I became angry at it. I tried to pull the trigger but it refused to fire (no bullet in the chamber), when I tried to chamber a round it didn't feed properly. I tried and tried to clear the jam but it was useless. I laid it back next to me on the bed and cried out that I just wanted the suffering to end.
Next I reach for the shotgun by the bed. I knew that it was loaded and since it was a single shot there would be no issues with it going off. This is my first gun and I have a history with it. A gift from my Step father when I was a boy. As a teenager I almost blew my brains out with it.
The Shotgun spoke to me too and told me that it wouldn't allow me to kill myself. I asked it why and it showed me the same thing it showed me the first time I attempted suicide with it: my mother's blue eyes.
All three guns then spoke to me again and told me that they were my friends and they apperciated the great care and respect that I have for them. The pistol said if I tried again that the jam would clear but it would only clear if I promised not to kill myself on this day. I cleared the jam and like I promised locked them all away.
I have no idea what time it is at this point but I do know I'm stark raving mad. I smoke another cigarette and try to ground myself. While I sat there on my bed for what felt like a life time things came and visited me. I guess you could call them aliens. We didn't really speak with each other...it was more like a mental link. They were begins of pure white light in a humanoid shape. They felt like pure energy and illuminated the dark room.
I don't remember most of what they told me. The gist of it was that I was put here to suffer for all the bad things that I had done before I was born but after I'd done my time on Earth I'd be allowed to go away with them where there was no more suffering. I had to atone for something I had done eons ago but they wouldn't tell me what it was I'd done. They said I'd made a lot of progress but I was not yet ready to go back to where I'd come from. They said I had a purpose on Earth that I had yet to discovered. I was told that despite all my efforts to die before the age of 30 that I would live a long time here before moving on to the next place so I might as well get used to it.
They said they wanted to show me something. One of these begin placed what I guess you'd call her hand on my chest and push me down on to the bed, then through it, then through the very center of the Earth itself. The others went away and it was just her and I flying through the darkness. She spoke to me for a long time but I can't remember what we talked about. She took me to a place of light in the darkness and there were many others like her there. I lived among them for what felt like thousands of years. I was allowed to take the form of one of them to better understand their ways. The female and I became close, we had many children and raised a family together, I was happy and thought I'd seen the last of the Earth.
One day she came to be and told me that I must go back to finish my business on Earth but we'd meet again soon and that she'd look after the children. I was sad but I knew it was my duty to return. I was hurled through the darkness and back into my body.
It took me awhile to get things together. I had massive double vision, the walls were still melting like a heavy acid trip, the room was in disarry, and I could barely see through the visuals. I couldn't find a clock but I knew it had to be late because the sun was no longer up. I passed out exhausted.
I awoke again at dawn with OEVs still going strong. I messaged my friend to apologize for sending him gibberish at 3/4am. Thankfully, he's a good friend and I've had to take care of him before so he understood.
I spent that entire day trying to remember what happened. I still had some xanax/ativan left and took a little here and there just to starve off the withdrawal I knew was coming on but to also help me get some sleep. When I wasn't laying in the bed I was running to the bathroom to shit liquid. I tried to drink a lot of water but couldn't stomach any food so I didn't eat for 48 hours. I have just now managed to down a little bit of food.
I know this was reckless, stupid, and I should probably seek help but in a way I feel reborn. I don't seem to be in any danger phsyically from this little ordeal, my kidenys hurt a little, my vision is still fucked (HPPD in over drive), and I probably lost 10 pounds over the course of those two days but aside from that I'm good.
I don't want to visit sigma again and for now I don't want to die. I have too much work to do. Besides, I couldn't kill myself if I tried.
Tagged by Xorkoth
substancecode_dxm
substancecode_dissociatives
substancecode_lorazepam
substancecode_benzos
substancecode_gabaergics
substancecode_alprazolam
substancecode_hydroxyzine
substancecode_deliriants
substancecode_hydrocodone
substancecode_opiates
substancecode_mushrooms
substancecode_tryptamines
_combo_
explevel_experienced
exptype_positive
exptype_spiritual
exptype_healthissues
exptype_difficult
exptype_addiction
roacode_oral
Heck of a thread title eh? I apologize in advance for my grammar not begin up to my usual level. My brain still isn't working correctly after this wild ride I went on. I also want to say that I did some very irresonable things here that I'm not proud of and that I've been suicidal for most of my life. I try to hold it together and put on a good face and help everyone that I can in this world but sometimes I have a mental break. I tried to seek help a few times but I found nothing but contempt. I refuse to be locked away in a padded room somewhere stripped of my rights, I am sure if I were ever properly screened and were totally honest they'd throw me in a nut house somewhere, keep me doped up on Zyprexa, and throw away the key.
I'm just too damn smart for my own good I reckon. I've always been different, I've never been able to truly connect with anyone. Since I was a boy I've always felt like I was an alien. You people aren't like me and I can never be like you.
Sound nuts? It probably does. I don't mean to sound that way...that's just how I am. How about I stop rambling and get on with my story? The events below are 100% true, at least to the best of my ability to remember them. The happened over the course of two or three days. Sadly, I will be unable to tell you how much I took of what, hell I don't even know if I've listed all the substances I consumed. There will be back story, I will not be posting this under my usual username. I'm sure some of you will know who I am (Xor/Tricomb I'm looking at y'all).
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Some back story:
Up until a few months ago my life seemed to be going in a pretty direction that it had been for a long time. I had finally settled into my new home after moving for the second time in as many years. I was in my old stomping grounds and everything seemed like it was going my way. I had spent the year before doing way too much LSD at festivals and having the time of my life. I'd kicked my opioid habit and was working on quitting cannabis and getting a career.
Three months ago a switch flipped and it seemed like nothing was going my way. Bad things started happening one after another and it just kind of snow balled. I had to throw a long time friend out of my home because of his heroin addiction, when I refused to give him money for more heroin he assulted a mutual friend and left me with no choice. I grabbed the shotgun in the corner of the room before he could get to it, he charged me and tripped in the process, I froze like a deer in the headlights. He picked himself up and left. I was so close to killing him...and it messed my head up. I didn't want to kill him but he'd left me no choice and I still can't figure out why I didn't pull the trigger.
Perhaps I still care for that piece of shit. I've always been too soft.
A week later my Grandfather fell ill and my Grandmother was going to have major back surgery done. The doctor said she wouldn't be able to walk in a year or two if they didn't go in there and fuse some stuff together. Something about the nerves in her back begin compressed. I just knew it was serious and we were looking at a lot of recovery time.
The care of them both fell to me begin the eldest grandchild. This is something I had no issues with and considered it my duty. What I did take issue with was the fact that I got zero help from my brother with this. It was like he didn't even fucking care about them.
Anyway, eventually Grandma came home and Grandpap started doing a little better but he's dying and I know it. I've known it for three years, I can see it in his eyes, the way he talks...everything. What's worse is I am a total failure in his eyes. Why don't you have a good job, a sports car, a woman, and some youngin's? As if those are things I can just find around the damn corner.
Shortly after Grandma came home I got a call from my old job. My lead man had died of a heart attack at work. He was 40 years old and was pretty much my only friend down there. I didn't even find out he'd died until a month after it happened.
Grandma got sent home with all the usual suspects. Grandpap had a nice stash too. I had to manage their meds and refused to partake in any but eventually the addict came out and the stress got to be too much. That's where the story begins.
This is already long and it's going to get longer so I'll try to skip a head a little. I'd been taking a bit of xanax here and there from one of the bottles they had laying around. Mostly because my nerves were shot but also to help me sleep. This snowballed and eventually I was eating a lot of the stuff a day and started getting back into the pain killers. I justified it because Grandma was trying not to take it. They had 100's of the damn things and all the refills in the world. She probably noticed but I never took enough where I felt like I was leaving her in pain. Yes I know I'm an ass hole and a shitty Grandson.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
The binge started innocently enough. I had my own stash of pills at this point to take as needed. I counted out about 10mg of xanax, some ativan, and 50mg or so of hydrocodone. I was stuck at the home all weekend without much to do but lay around. I sent my friend a message on facebook that afternoon:
I started with about 2mg and we talked for awhile longer. Eventually I after 3-4mg more and decided to go sun bathing at my grandmother's pool. I was already on the verge of begin blacked out but I still have a good memory of what was going on at that point.
I realized my stash wasn't going to be enough to keep the train rolling. I walked up to the house and to my surprise no one was home. I stole some more pills, not sure how many.
I kept eating ativan, xanax, and hydros for a few more hours. I ended up walking back to my Grandmother's for the keys to the farm truck. She called me out on begin fucked up right then and there. I said I'd drank a bunch of liquor and she allowed me to walk back to my house as long as I promised not to drive.
I was pretty sure she knew I was fucked up on pills because everyone in the family knows I'm an addict at this point. When I got home I decided it might be a good idea to lock up all the guns, so I did. I passed out for a few hours.
I woke up sometime around midnight and gobbled down some more pills. I also raided the community pot stash in the barn and smoked a joint. I decided I'd like to go for a drive so I got in the truck and off a went.
I drove around the back roads for some time. I don't remember much of the drive other than I was seeing double but seemed to be going a long just fine. It's both a blessing and a curse that driving is a natual ability for me. I know everyone over vaules themselves when it comes to this but trust me; I could run around Talledega speedway in a Winston Cup out of my mind on MXE and probably win the damn race. I don't advocate driving under the influence but I've done it before and will probably do it again. I hope to God I don't end up killing someone.
Anyway, my plan for suicide was always to wreck my car on one of the backroads. I think that might have been why I drove around for some long...this way it doesn't go down as a suicide since they can't prove intent. I probably pussied out like I've done countless times in the past.
At about 1am I found myself in the parking lot of the local Wal-Mart. I don't know why I went there in the first place but the thought of buying some DXM seemed like a good idea. I remember stumbling inside and spending a long time looking at the various DXM products searching for one with no additives. A woman asked if I was finding everything okay and I told her I was fine, just felt like shit and needed something for a cough. She left me a lone.
I'm honestly not sure if I bought the DXM or stole it. I remember taking a massive shit in the bathroom while I was there. Someone followed me in and there was another guy taking a dump in the stall next to me. I think I either stole some of them or all of them because I can't imagine anyone selling 6 bottles of robogels to someone that looked obviously fucked up.
After leaving the bathroom I did some shopping. I bought some soda and some food to eat. I was too confused to use the self check out and they had to send someone over to help me. No one stopped me when I walked out, hopped in my truck, and set off for home.
I didn't even wait to get home. I started eating robogels by the handful on the way home. I made it there without any issues, took some more xanax, and finished off another half bottle of the robogels. I estimate that first dose was around 500mg which is more than enough to put me up in the third platuea. I counted out 300mg to take when I felt I'd peaked from the first dose.
I planned on listening to some music while I tried to figure out how I was going to put my life back together. As crazy as it sounds I was attempting to do the best I could with what I had. It was either this or a bullet to the head.
My memory goes fuzzy again in the two or so hours it took for the first of the gels to start taking effect. Eventually they did and hit me like a frieght train. I sent a message to a friend on facebook at 4am or so and attempted to have a conversasion:
After that I left the computer for 2 hours or so and listened to some music. I had incredible visions/CEVs that I could have written an entire trip report about. I won't go into the full details but that's what I loved and missed about the drug when I was forced to stop using it years ago due to all the side effects. I was happy to have made it back to that magical place.
The mix I loaded up only lasted for 2 hours (Happy Hardcore) and when the music stopped I suddenly snapped back to reality. At this point I got up and took the other 300mg I'd laid aside. I also laid aside 200mg more in case I wanted to go deeper. I wasn't thinking straight at the time and didn't realize I was putting myself on a train ride to Sigma.
I messaged my friend again, this was the last time I talked to anyone during the expereince that I can recall, by this point it was already dawn local time:
After that spectacular failure I decided it best to close facebook (Thank God). I put on another mix of happy hardcore and relocated to the bed. That lasted for maybe an hour before I grew bored with the music, it was becoming too much. I got up and ate more DXM, I think about 400mg since I remember breaking into another bottle. I also remember smoking a joint and having a cigarette.
The cigarette grounded me for a bit and for the first time all morning I looked around at the room. It was already a damn mess, and there was shit out of place everywhere. I had unlocked the gun safe and retrived a pistol, which was laying in bed next to me. I have no memory of doing this.
The room was melting...it reminded me of the visuals I once got from a high dose of LSD I had taken in Asheville. When a kind hippy handed me a strip and I just ate it because I guess I'm a self destructive ass hole like that. I felt like things were going very very very wrong at this point. DXM had never really given me OEVs before aside from double vision and this was on an entirely different level. I wasn't afraid but I knew perhaps I wouldn't be coming back with all my IQ points this time around.
I take more ativan and xanax to try to calm things down. This only served to cause me to black out for a few hours. When I came back to I'd consumed more of the robogels and I now had a rifle on the bed with me in addition to the pistol. I also had my drug box on there with me which was short a bag of mushrooms, I don't know if I ate those too or if they're simply lost in the mess that is my bedroom. I haven't wanted to go back in there to look for them.
I had a moment of clairty at this point. I accepted that I did want to die. My rifle spoke to me and asked that I didn't kill myself with it because it was my Grandfather's and he'd given it to me because he knew I was take good care of him. The rifle said my Grandfather was going to die soon but he'd die of a broken heart sooner if I shot myself. The rifle said that I should use the pistol but only if the pistol agreed.
The pistol refused to speak with me, I became angry at it. I tried to pull the trigger but it refused to fire (no bullet in the chamber), when I tried to chamber a round it didn't feed properly. I tried and tried to clear the jam but it was useless. I laid it back next to me on the bed and cried out that I just wanted the suffering to end.
Next I reach for the shotgun by the bed. I knew that it was loaded and since it was a single shot there would be no issues with it going off. This is my first gun and I have a history with it. A gift from my Step father when I was a boy. As a teenager I almost blew my brains out with it.
The Shotgun spoke to me too and told me that it wouldn't allow me to kill myself. I asked it why and it showed me the same thing it showed me the first time I attempted suicide with it: my mother's blue eyes.
All three guns then spoke to me again and told me that they were my friends and they apperciated the great care and respect that I have for them. The pistol said if I tried again that the jam would clear but it would only clear if I promised not to kill myself on this day. I cleared the jam and like I promised locked them all away.
I have no idea what time it is at this point but I do know I'm stark raving mad. I smoke another cigarette and try to ground myself. While I sat there on my bed for what felt like a life time things came and visited me. I guess you could call them aliens. We didn't really speak with each other...it was more like a mental link. They were begins of pure white light in a humanoid shape. They felt like pure energy and illuminated the dark room.
I don't remember most of what they told me. The gist of it was that I was put here to suffer for all the bad things that I had done before I was born but after I'd done my time on Earth I'd be allowed to go away with them where there was no more suffering. I had to atone for something I had done eons ago but they wouldn't tell me what it was I'd done. They said I'd made a lot of progress but I was not yet ready to go back to where I'd come from. They said I had a purpose on Earth that I had yet to discovered. I was told that despite all my efforts to die before the age of 30 that I would live a long time here before moving on to the next place so I might as well get used to it.
They said they wanted to show me something. One of these begin placed what I guess you'd call her hand on my chest and push me down on to the bed, then through it, then through the very center of the Earth itself. The others went away and it was just her and I flying through the darkness. She spoke to me for a long time but I can't remember what we talked about. She took me to a place of light in the darkness and there were many others like her there. I lived among them for what felt like thousands of years. I was allowed to take the form of one of them to better understand their ways. The female and I became close, we had many children and raised a family together, I was happy and thought I'd seen the last of the Earth.
One day she came to be and told me that I must go back to finish my business on Earth but we'd meet again soon and that she'd look after the children. I was sad but I knew it was my duty to return. I was hurled through the darkness and back into my body.
It took me awhile to get things together. I had massive double vision, the walls were still melting like a heavy acid trip, the room was in disarry, and I could barely see through the visuals. I couldn't find a clock but I knew it had to be late because the sun was no longer up. I passed out exhausted.
I awoke again at dawn with OEVs still going strong. I messaged my friend to apologize for sending him gibberish at 3/4am. Thankfully, he's a good friend and I've had to take care of him before so he understood.
I spent that entire day trying to remember what happened. I still had some xanax/ativan left and took a little here and there just to starve off the withdrawal I knew was coming on but to also help me get some sleep. When I wasn't laying in the bed I was running to the bathroom to shit liquid. I tried to drink a lot of water but couldn't stomach any food so I didn't eat for 48 hours. I have just now managed to down a little bit of food.
I know this was reckless, stupid, and I should probably seek help but in a way I feel reborn. I don't seem to be in any danger phsyically from this little ordeal, my kidenys hurt a little, my vision is still fucked (HPPD in over drive), and I probably lost 10 pounds over the course of those two days but aside from that I'm good.
I don't want to visit sigma again and for now I don't want to die. I have too much work to do. Besides, I couldn't kill myself if I tried.
Tagged by Xorkoth
substancecode_dxm
substancecode_dissociatives
substancecode_lorazepam
substancecode_benzos
substancecode_gabaergics
substancecode_alprazolam
substancecode_hydroxyzine
substancecode_deliriants
substancecode_hydrocodone
substancecode_opiates
substancecode_mushrooms
substancecode_tryptamines
_combo_
explevel_experienced
exptype_positive
exptype_spiritual
exptype_healthissues
exptype_difficult
exptype_addiction
roacode_oral
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