Citation: Friendship. "Humility 101: An Experience with 2C-B (exp106176)". Erowid.org. Mar 24, 2020. erowid.org/exp/106176
I think the most relevant information I can offer would be about the physical effects of my first bad trip, rather than the psychological, so I'll start with that.
Everything was fine and dandy until maybe two and a half hours or so into the trip. I was alone in my house. I had taken a higher dose of 2C-B before, so I figured a babysitter would be unnecessary. It started as a general uneasiness, and as the fear began to spiral out of control, my body grew hot. It was cool in the room, but I was sweating from panic. My nose began to bleed, and I grew nauseous. Fortunately, my brother came home just in time. I felt like he had saved my life, really. As my fear began to die down from the comfort of my brother, I ended up vomiting. My nose was still bleeding. The toilet looked like it was 5 feet deep, full of that day's half-digested pizza and my blood. Not exactly a comforting sight for somebody (irrationally) freaking out about dying. I can't be certain whether the effects I experienced were results of the drug, of just from being in a sustained state of panic, or a bit of both
I can't be certain whether the effects I experienced were results of the drug, of just from being in a sustained state of panic, or a bit of both
, but I figured I should share.
Psychologically, it was a fairly archetypal bad trip, and I've thought about it a lot since then.
There's nothing like the psychedelic fear. It is the purest fear. There's no face behind it. No flag. No pain. It's just pure fear. The brain tries to find a reason to be afraid. To rationalize the fear I'm already experiencing. But there's no actual reason. It says things like, 'How much of that shit did I take? The cops will show up for sure if you mention drugs on the phone, so you definitely can't call anybody. You'll go to prison and be stabbed or something. Your mother will bury you, devastated, and you'll be to blame.' And it's all bullshit.
I took a slightly smaller dose (25 mg) of 2C-B again a couple of weeks later. It was a good time, but fear was a recurring theme. It grew less prominent throughout the trip, but in the beginning, I had some minor uncomfortableness in my stomach and it triggered the sensation of fear again. Instantly, my spine chilled, my body flashed with heat, and I think I nearly lost it again, but my brother was there to talk me down.
I've had the privilege of living a somewhat fear-free life. If anybody could have stood to be taken down a notch or two, I suspect it'd be me. It was an absolutely awful experience, but I'm glad it happened. I feel like, in a certain way, I can better relate to people who have to deal with fear on a regular basis.
I feel like, in a certain way, I can better relate to people who have to deal with fear on a regular basis.
My understanding of peoples' behavior has deepened a bit. I have been humbled by fear, and, in retrospect, it's not so different from being humbled by the beauty of a good trip. I just hope it progressively becomes a smaller and smaller part of my psychedelic journeys in the future. I'm optimistic that it will. Now that I've seen this beast, I at least feel more equipped to handle it.
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