Citation: Blue. "At Death's Doorstep: An Experience with 4-AcO-DMT & Alprazolam (exp101964)". Erowid.org. Jul 12, 2016. erowid.org/exp/101964
I think I experienced what it would be like to die. I took the dose at roughly 12 pm, thinking it to be around 15 mg, not having bothered reweighing the capsule it was in. I then went to eat some breakfast and then settled on some meditation outside in the yard.
After a few minutes of meditation I opened my eyes and was surprised to see that I was tripping in earnest. Normally I am used to the gradual revealing of different visual effects in my trips, however, the plants around me had a strange morphing quality to them already, and my perception was quite off. I headed back inside hoping that I was sober enough to do some light reading and enjoy my day.
Upon entering my house I realized that something was not right. I was experiencing a very uncomfortable body load and ended up on my couch, writhing a bit staring off into space for what felt like an hour.
I kept trying to reassure myself that even if I had taken more than I had initially thought (for at the time of taking the capsule it looked a little overly full) that I was completely safe physically, and no harm would come to me. Unfortunately this spiraled off to some bad thoughts about my health in general and led to me pacing frantically around my house.
I stumbled around for awhile, feeling slightly better to be in motion, pacing rapidly about, trying to calm down, thinking repeatedly 'I don't know where I'm going, but I'm going somewhere'. Generally when taking psychedelics I take a small dose of piracetam with them, which I find helps with mental confusion, being out of that though I was starting to get lost in thought loops which started a downward spiral.
Panicking I rushed outside, and stumbled to the grass where I attempted to throw up, thinking that I needed to get whatever unprocessed amount of the drug was still in my stomach up. This ended up being a feeble gesture, ending in my realization that such a small amount of something at 39 mg was likely to have long since been absorbed. I still was feeling an incredibly powerful body load, but it eased up a bit as I sat cross legged on my patio.
I started to talk to myself, to calm myself down, to ensure myself that everything would be fine, but at this point I started to be foggy headed in the idea of self. I don't remember much of the conversation I had, but it ended with the realization that I might try and kill myself, that my current headspace was so bad that death felt like a light hearted way of turning off the bad sensation. Realizing that this was incredibly bad I immediately stood up, and rushed to my bathroom, deciding that a shower would help.
I entered my bathroom and immediately rushed and opened the toilet, feeling I was going to vomit. I sat for a bit till this sensation passed and then decided to be on with my shower, however, as I started to take off my shoes I was hit with an overwhelming wave of miasma and depression.
I rushed through the door and out my side door, collapsing on the pavement, laying there fearing to go inside, for it was an evil place. I lay on the pavement for a long while, till I realized that I should probably go inside and lay on my bed, as that is what beds are for after all. I checked the time as I walked past the microwave, and saw that it was 12:55. Less than an hour in. At this point I started to cry. I curled up in my bed and lay there, afraid, of life, of myself, that I might hurt myself, that my world was ending.
I curled up in my bed and lay there, afraid, of life, of myself, that I might hurt myself, that my world was ending.
Every judgement of my character, of missed opportunities, of why I wasn't a worthwhile person, how I should just kill myself and get it over with. I decided that this was too much and, trying to think of a way to kill the trip (which was still before peak as far as I could tell), I stumbled to my desk and found a bar of xanax which I chewed and swallowed. I fell back on top my bed, shaking, almost convulsing like in my movements, thinking that I was dying, and being okay with that.
After awhile I started to feel calmer, but still frightened, I elected to take another half a xanax, and then another half a little later when the depression started coming back. I was still terrified I was going to hurt myself, so stumbled about and found my dog, and lay with her.
Crying and holding her, thinking about how I couldn't die, how the people in my life would miss me, how it would be unfair to them to die and leave them. But I kept going over how 'People die, it happens all the time. [imitation of a news man's voice] 'a local resident died today, he was found to have killed himself in his home, toxicology found high levels of ...' I could die, life ends, no one ever thinks it will be them, death is normal'.
The next few hours, from 1:30 till 6 pm I lay in bed, my dad dropped by at some point, but I hardly remember anything except telling him I was sick and needed to stay in bed. I just stared up at the ceiling, looking at all the terrible evil faces who were judging me, occasionally asking them why they were there.
I'd like to say I would not ever repeat this, however, after this terrible fear my curiosity started to peak, and I feel that I will make journeys this far again when I am better prepared and ready to cope with what my mind shows me. I definitely regret taking the xanax, however, I am thankful I did not hurt myself in anyway. All in all it was an... interesting day.
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