DOSE:			MDMA
			2C-E
			Tobacco - Cigarettes

BODY WEIGHT:

175 lb

[Erowid Note: The dose described in this report is very high, potentially beyond Erowid's 'heavy' range, and could pose serious health risks or result in unwanted, extreme effects. Sometimes extremely high doses reported are errors rather than actual doses used.]
I suppose I should begin with the following disclaimer: I am an experienced psychonaut, never before had a bad experience on ANYTHING, and as a result, got WAY too overconfident. I made several mistakes as a result, and I should have known better. Maybe I needed the reality check.

In recent months, I had been doing large doses of other substances (mushrooms, LSD, MDMA, K, 2C-B, etc.) with VERY little effect… I chalked it up to a high metabolism, but I had been trying for quite some time to have a deep immersive experience…

Well, holy shit, did I get one. And it was awful.

Saturday night, my girlfriend, J, and I decided to have a fun trip. Took 10 mg of quite pure MDMA at 9 pm… pretty standard wonderful trip, went to a party, were more interested in each other than the mediocre music, went home. By this time it was midnight, the MDMA was wearing off, but we weren’t ready to call it quits. A friend had given me “2 hits” of 2C-E… I didn’t know the exact dosage, and when pressed, he said “This is just 2 doses. I do it all the time. It’s fantastic, you’ll love it.” First mistake: I am quite familiar with 2C-B, and didn’t do nearly enough research into this new substance… nor did I carefully measure out dosage. From what I’ve read after the fact, this is a relatively common problem.

So J and I eat the “doses.” Later I discover that they were 60+mg each. This was irresponsible. We fucked ourselves good and proper.

We lounge around, have a good time…

T: 0:20 I start to feel the come up. It feels nice, but a little clinical. My muscles begin to start spasming, mostly my thighs, biceps, and jaw. J asks me if I’m okay, and I think it’s just a little twitch. It quickly becomes more and more violent, as if I have severe Parkinson’s. This continues for the next 23 hours. J is getting uncomfortable, and decides to put some music on. She thinks “The Fall” would be a good choice. We listen to 5 seconds of the first song and then she collapses back into bed, breathing heavily. I ask if her if she’s alright. “It’s really strong…” The music choice, by the way, was a terrible one, but we were quickly in no position whatsoever to change it.

T:0:25 I am coming up fast… too fast. I hit the point where I’m comfortable, and I keep going higher. My vision begins to blur, tracers are everywhere, geometric patterns are forming, then dissolving into wavy lines. The room is breathing, the light is strobing, the music is changing it’s tempo. “I don’t think I like this” R moans…

T:0:30 I suddenly have a violent need to vomit. I stagger to the bathroom, legs barely working while twitching constantly… I throw up several times, dry heaving. The bathroom is covered in specks of paint (the apartment is inhabited by painters) that instantly turn to tiny insects, crawling everywhere. I’m still aware I’m tripping face, so it doesn’t frighten me… but it is quite uncomfortable.

I stagger back to the bathroom and J is trying to put on a sweater. We are both sweating buckets. I manage to drink some water, convince j to drink some water… Then she says “I need a trash can, now” I try to find one, moving as if submerged in water. I find one and turn around just in time for J to lurch across the room and vomit all over me, the floor, herself, and very little in the can. She looks at the scene in pure horror.

It occurs to me that spending the next few hours covered in vomit wouldn’t be good for anyone, so I stagger back to the bathroom and wash myself off. I come back to the bedroom and see J sitting in front of the trash can with a look of pure horror on her face. I try to comfort her, but my legs stop working and I collapse on the bed, unable to move.

T:0:45-T:8:00
For the next 8 hours, I am out of my damn mind. I can’t really move from the bed, J doesn’t move from the floor. I occasionally think I might need to go to the hospital, but I am unable to hold onto a thought for more than 10 seconds, speak, move… anything. The visuals are incredibly intense… everything is moving. Everything. I move my hands in front of my face and little strings of flesh trail behind them… not like blurry lines of light, but strips of rotting flesh floating away…

At some point, my vision begins to blur so much that nothing is visible. I am transported to an infinitely vast, grey void, with no points of reference whatsoever. I have no senses, I cannot even form a thought. With no references whatsoever, it is a tremendous force of will to even open my eyes, let alone pick up my head. Every time I manage to do it I am screaming in my head, and every muscle is tensed with the effort. I feel at one with “The Creator.” And the only emotion the creative force of all existence has is blind, impotent rage. That is pure horror, by the way, if you can’t imagine it.

Every time I managed to look around the room, it was completely blurry, moving fast and violently. I would look over at J, who would be staring off in the distance with a look of fear, horror, and disgust on her face. It was not reassuring.

It is worth mentioning that this utter and complete ego death would come in waves… 45 minutes or so dead (time had NO meaning, so these are estimates… the night lasted forever), then I’d spend 10 minutes or so aware of reality, just in time to silently scream when I drifted back into nothingness. I knew I should get up, drink water, CHANGE THE FUCKING MUSIC, but I literally couldn’t hold on to a thought or make my muscles stop shaking. Though at one point I DID mentally design an ad campaign for a very elegant and stylish timepiece that also happened to explain the universe. Which, in hindsight, is pretty fucking funny. And then BACK to the void where I knew nothing matters and if there was a higher power, he hated me and everything in the universe.

This state lasted until just after 9 am… At which point I could finally move and hug J, who was sobbing… had been sobbing for 10,000 years, or so it seemed.

But it wasn’t even half over.

T:9:00
We both staggered back to the bed, managed to drink a little water, and just reassured each other that it would soon be over, we’d be okay, and what a stupid fucking thing to do. After 2 hours of lying, trying to sleep, or calm down… nothing worked. Our muscles were still spasming uncontrollably, the walls were still melting and breathing… paintings were growing tentacles, the lights were still changing…

T:11:00
we have the idea to call a friend. This was the first time we could form a complete sentence out loud. It takes about 30 minutes to compose a text, and someone is on their way over. I also chat with a friend in brief, unintelligible bursts, but it was nice to connect with someone who knows what I am going through, but is most certainly not there. Our friends will be over in 5 minutes, but we don’t even know if we can stand up, let alone go down stairs to let them in the apartment building. We try to calm down by watching videos of baby elephants on youtube. It makes us feel better. We watch a video called “baby animal pals” which is cute at first, but then takes a horrible turn, the music turns scary as hell, and it looks like gerbils are eating a dog. We turn it off.

T:11:30
I crawl down the stairs and let my friends in. They, too, are experienced psychonauts, though they’ve never done 2C-E before. They come in, give us Gatorade and Emergen-C, cigarettes, and comfort. They gently find out what exactly we did to fuck ourselves.

T:12:00-16:00
The next four hours was J and I trying to have conversations with our very understanding friends. They looked up experiences on the internet, and occasionally mention quotes like “2C-E has an effect of profound general discomfort” and laugh. We laugh too… at that point, we can either laugh or cry, and we did quite enough of that, thank you very much. We put on some David bowie, Iggy Pop, and other music that is much more… friendly. It helped.

The walls were still moving, muscles were still spasming. It was still the peak of an acid trip, except now we could think. But the visuals/body load were still VERY VERY strong. Holding a cigarette was a herculean feat. We went outside to smoke on the fire escape, and it was overcast, about to rain. The clouds began to fall down, covering the city in a dense fog. This, too, was not reassuring.

Around 12:30 I get a call from my boss: in 2.5 hours, I have to get in a van and drive 6 hours with him to work (my job requires me to travel quite a bit, and I will be in the middle of nowhere for the next 4 weeks, without coming home. J and I thought a trip would be a fun way to send me off. Whoops.). I am horrified at the notion of spending 6 hours trying to stay cool trapped in a small van. I lie and tell my boss I have food poisoning… I still have to go, but I can now explain why I’m fucked up.

T:16:00-T:18:00
It started to calm down a bit… I think. Hard to tell. After that sort of time period of super intense visuals, I suppose I must have become used to it, but the walls were still breathing, paintings moving, etc… I was just in such a deep pit of exhaustion, soreness (muscles still spasming), and overall gloom, that I just didn’t care anymore. I’ve since read reports of people contemplating suicide to make it stop, and I can see what they mean. But I knew it had to end eventually, so I just grit my teeth and bore it, smoking more cigarettes, drinking more water. J was starting to calm down a bit too, though she still refused to leave the room if at all possible. She began to speak of what she saw the previous night… rotting meat, sacks full of urine, really dark stuff, and she is usually a very happy, confident person. We realize that it wasn’t really time to talk about all of that quite yet, and maybe if we could just wait for the fucking floor to stop moving, we could talk about it.

T:18:00
Its time for me to go home, take a shower, and get in a van with my boss to drive for 6 hours… My friends and I convince J it’s a good idea to get out of the house, so we walk the 6 blocks to my house (which is next door to my friends, by the way). And when we get there… there’s a fucking movie being shot on my street. 15+ horse drawn carriages are trotting up and down in front of my door. The entire block smells like horse shit. Which normally doesn’t bother me, but yeah… no sleep, still tripping my face off, having to get myself together before a 6 hour van ride… Awful.

So I take a quick shower, get in the van, explain to my boss that I have food poisoning… And can’t sleep. There’s no way. My muscles are STILL spasming, the lines of the road are twisting back and forth, I can’t get comfortable… This lasts the next 5 hours.

Oh, we stop at a rest stop and I venture to try eating some French fries. It was a pretty good idea, made me feel better.

T: 23:00 We finally arrive at the hotel, and it’s finally stopped… I’m mentally, physically, spiritually exhausted… and I have to wake up in 5 hours to work the next day.

In short, worst experience of my life. Given, I wasn’t prepared, I took too much, terrible environment… 2C-E is INCREDIBLY unforgiving…. Not to be fucked around with lightly. Or at all, for that matter.

Yes, I “learned” something about my self, but it wasn’t something I particularly needed to learn. No issues were resolved, I didn’t have to face any demons… it was just “a profound sense of extreme discomfort.”

The next week I was... Distracted. I chalk that up just going through a fairly traumatic experience... No real physical fallout, other than sore muscles/jaw.

Back to 100% fine in 12 hours or so, stopped thinking about it about 5 days after.

Exp Year: 2013	ExpID: 101575
Gender: Male
Age at time of experience: 31
Published: Feb 15, 2017	Views: 1,944
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2C-E (137) : First Times (2), Train Wrecks & Trip Disasters (7), Overdose (29), Difficult Experiences (5), Small Group (2-9) (17)