Citation: Ryan. "Addicted and Alone: An Experience with DXM with CPM (exp105953)". Erowid.org. May 18, 2018. erowid.org/exp/105953
Most Coricidin contains CPM (Chlorpheniramine Maleate) which can be dangerous in high doses. See DXM Brand Warnings for more info.]
The doses described in this report are potentially life threatening. The amount taken is beyond a heavy dose and could pose serious health risks or result in unwanted, extreme effects. Doses such as this have been known to cause hospitalizations and/or deaths. Sometimes extremely high doses reported are errors rather than actual doses used.]
started smoking pot when I was 13. And I've spent the next ten years smoking pot and doing whatever pills I could get whole of.
The next major milestone was when I was introduced to DXM. My wife's cousin, who had become my primary weed supplier, was unable to smoke and therefore sell me weed. Anyway, he brought over a box of coracidin. I was reluctant at first, having never even heard of DXM or robotripping before this. But after some minimal online research I found that the high was comparable to PCP. This intrigued me so I took 6 pills (30mg DXM each) about 20 minutes later I felt something. It was a little like being drunk and stoned and I liked it... A lot.
The next day I asked him for more. Since he didn't have any more, the two of us walked down to the store and stole a box. When we got home (to my house) we each took 8. He spent the night at my house that night, so we went and got another box when the first dose wore off after about six hours. This went on for about a week until we had depleted the stores stock of DXM containing pills. It took two weeks for them to restock. During this time I returned to smoking weed. I was the one who discovered that the store had restocked, and I stole every box on the shelf. That was 7 boxes of ccc's. I brought them home and later showed my trip buddy what I had found and he showed me that he had found another local store with the same pills in a generic form. He had stolen 4 boxes himself. So we now had 11 boxes of ccc's between us. That was the first time I took 16.
It was a totally different feeling than 8. I took them around 11pm because I had to wait for my wife to fall asleep first since she had no idea I was tripping.
And for awhile 16 pills was my dose. I went on 3 day binges of smoking weed during the day which calmed me down enough to function. Then tripping all night. I always knew within 30 minutes of dosing if I would get any sleep or not because when I got a good trip I would feel my eyes bugging out of my skull
when I got a good trip I would feel my eyes bugging out of my skull
. Those nights became a blur of a memory. A couple weeks later I started noticing that 16 wasn't working anymore. So I tried 18 then 22 to no avail.
I decided to stop them altogether, convinced that they would never work for me again. Then, one day when I was at the store I saw them just sitting there, asking to be taken. I stole two boxes and took all 32 pills on the way home. By the time I got home they had kicked in. That was the first time I had visual hallucinations. Mostly motion trails. This is also the point that I started taking note of memory loss. Not to mention time loss, I have hours, in some cases days, that I have absolutely no memory of. I think that's what scares me the most.
Back on track, sometime after my first dose of 32 pills it stopped working again. I think I took 32 three different times without tripping before I decided to up my dose again. This time I was afraid that I was going too far (if I forgot to mention, every dose was followed by me arguing with myself when I was coming down) so I looked up a dxm calculator and found out that I could take 45 pills before coma or death. So that's what I did. As usual, I waited for everyone in the house to fall asleep, then I took 45 ccc's. At first I felt like I was going to puke, but that went away when I started to feel my eyes bugging. At that point I laid down and closed my eyes. I opened them immediately but I was no longer in my house. I saw this strange place where everything was made of some sort of sandy textured clay. I was walking around this place when it occurred to me that I was on an island floating through nothing. Literally the island moved with my feet like a giant treadmill stuck in oblivion.
Then there was God. Just out of nowhere, literally, popped this giant blue torso of a man with black hair and glowing golden eyes. It looked like a hybrid of buddah and Genie from Aladin. It spoke to me with an echoing voice that sounded like me as a small child, echoed by an old man. We talked for what felt like an eternity about the meaning of life and the secrets of the universe. When it disappeared I felt drained of all energy.
I was crawling along the multi-colored sand clay. All the way to the edge, then over. I fell through nothingness forever. When I 'landed' I was back in my body, looking at the back of my daughters head. She was crying and I tried to console her but she only screamed louder. At this point my wife came in and to my bewilderment took my screaming baby from her crib, behind me. Not off the bed in front of me. After they left I tried standing up, that wasn't happening. I fell over and sat down on the bed where I inspected the strange child on my bed which turned out to be a lifelike doll. Eventually the need to pee overcame me and I left the safety of solitude that had become my life. As soon as I opened the door my wife told me that I was lucky to be alive. I laughed hysterically and went to the bathroom. On my way back into seclusion I was stopped and detoured onto the couch. My in laws were there and I spent the next several hours listening to an intervention. I was told that I had apparently wandered the whole house stopping in doorways and at one point I pissed my pants and laughed about it. I guess my wife had to dress me like a child while I clenched muscles and wouldn't stop laughing.
my wife had to dress me like a child while I clenched muscles and wouldn't stop laughing.
I was still high from that 45 pill dose three days later. When it finally wore off I took 40 more. This time I had my trip buddy with me again. He only took 16 so he was able to babysit me. I don't remember anything from that night, except falling asleep and having awesome dreams. The next morning he told me that I didn't sleep at all, but rather, I laid down on the floor in the living room and was yelling so much that I woke up everyone in the house. He picked me up and fireman carried me to my bed where he flopped me down and periodically came to check on me. And I guess at one point he shook me and I didn't respond until he yelled my name, to which I rolled my head without moving my shoulders and said 'yeees?' In some creepy drawn out voice that made him back out of the room and shut the door while shaking his head asking himself 'what the fuck is wrong with this dude? Is he possessed or something?' When my trip ended I went out and talked to him the rest of the night. At one point he palmed my forehead and I just laughed about it.
Again, it wasn't until several days later that my high wore off. I was starting to think that the perma-high was possible. Then, slowly, it wore off. About three or four days after the high had gone I took another 40 pills. This time I had to walk downtown while I was still very high but not tripping on 40 anymore. Again, my wife didn't notice. When I was downtown, on three separate occasions I felt this overwhelming urge to take my pocketknife and kill the person I was looking at; for no reason other than they were there. Between that and the transparent objects I kept seeing weren't really there I decided to check myself in to the hospital. Spent a week in the psych Ward, then when I got out I had CPS (Child Protective Services) visiting my house because apparently in my dxm fueled stupor I made some comments about killing and mutilating children. Note that what I remember is saying that I wanted to kill everyone. As in the entire world, never once do I recall saying anything specifically about children except that I would never harm my own.
From that point I stayed sober for almost a month, then relapsed the first time when I took 32 pills. That was the first time I had ever puked on them and I figured I tried too many too fast. So I spent the rest of the night still unable to sleep but without the real trip I wanted. Later that day I went and stole another box took all 16 and still got no results. Now I was starting to get frustrated. This drug, which had become my life was leaving me. But not before causing me to drive everyone I love away. I guess that's the whole point of this post, this drug is so amazing, it helped me talk to God. But in the process, it has figuratively killed everyone around me. And that makes it a horrible drug. It made me a thief, a lethargic catatonic zombie, I fucking pissed my pants! And I lost everything. So here I am, addicted and alone.
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