Citation: Hickerson. "A First-Timer's Mixed Emotions: An Experience with MDMA (Ecstasy) (exp10859)". Erowid.org. Apr 11, 2007. erowid.org/exp/10859
My one experience with Ecstasy was (can you guess?) at a rave in September 2001. I was initially satisfied and very pleased with my 'roll.' I was looking forward to rolling at a future rave. However, subsequent events have caused me to rethink my assessment.
First, a little background information is in order. I had only been to one rave previous to this one that was held in the LA area in June 2001. I was sober and I had a great time dancing in the Happy Hardcore room, but, being new to the scene, I felt slightly on the outside. I was not in typical raver clothing, I had no flashy accessories. I was still searching for my style, you might say. I had gone with a few friends, some much more experienced, but one was a new girl like I was. However, she was the life of the party. She did not roll that evening either, but everyone asked if she was. She was given candy bracelets, while I was not. True, I did not mingle as much as she. Despite that, I enjoyed myself and couldn't wait until the next chance to party.
Unfortunately, I attend college in an area that is far removed from LA. The rave scene here is sorely lacking, as we discovered one night at a Full Moon Party. Again, I had fun dancing, but I was disappointed at the dusty outdoor location and the abundance of hippies dancing to bad music. My friend, 'Dee,' and I had discussed trying to obtain Ecstasy, but there was none to be found, a fact which made me breathe a sigh of relief.
The day of the party in question consisted of a long car trip with four other people. One experienced raver from the LA party, 'Jeff,' another experienced raver, 'Sarah,' an unexperienced friend, 'Carrie,' Dee, and myself were driving out of state for what we hoped would be a great rave. We made a sizable detour to visit Carrie's mother, something everyone but Sarah knew beforehand. She complained continuously which made Carrie upset and everyone else on edge. Eight hours after we began our journey, we met up with some people Jeff barely knew, but we immediately disliked. They lead us to an isolated location where the rave was held. Once inside, they promptly ditched us, which upset Jeff. Dee turned to me and asked if I still wanted to try Ecstasy with her. I bit the bullet and said yes. We gave Sarah $20 each and she then went off in search of some for us.
I was very nervous about trying it. I didn't know too much about the drug and I was going through the possible effects in my mind. In the car we had energy drinks and ginseng pills which, being unable to swallow pills, I chewed. (Besides pot, the last of which I smoked six months earlier, the only drug I took was the ocasion shot of Liquid Tylenol for headaches.) I worried about how the Ecstasy might interact with those substances. My fears were heightened when Sarah came back and took us to a secluded corner. She had found someone who could hook us up, but we had to hide in case he was with the police. That thought had not even crossed my mind! Finally he showed up and distributed three capsules half filled with a pure white powder. Sarah, being much more knowledgable than us, said it was a small amount, but she thought it was good quality. I don't know how she could have known, though. Sarah decided to hold hers and help us through our first roll. Dee swallowed it immediately. Being a nursing major at one time, I knew that the capsule I held in my hand could not be chewed. I feared that if I did, I would overdose. Sarah helped calm me down and had me swallow it with chewing gum.
The high came on slowly, but it probably happened within an hour. I kept expecting flashing lights and hallucinations. Sarah did get a bit annoying with all of her advice, but I was grateful for the safety net if I needed it. Everytime I saw her, she was telling me to drink more water. She gave us Vicks back rubs which were heavenly. I had done my hair up in buns and she rubbed Vicks along the parts and blew on it. The sensations sent shivers down my spine. She also had a Vicks inhaler which we all used.
I found that after a while, I could not stop moving. I loved dancing and used Sarah's glow wand and was fascinated by the colors and movements, but I never saw a hallucination. All my senses seemed to be sharpened. At one point while dancing my teeth clamped down on one another and I heard a crunching sound that, to me, was so loud, I was sure I had broken a tooth. Luckily, I did not, but I discovered that the sound of grinding my teeth sounded interesting. Smoking was also a great joy.
Dee's roll was unlike mine. She did not feel like dancing. She was content sitting on a bench outside. I would come out and talk to her (I loved talking), but I was in constant motion. My hands fluttered in time to the music and I would periodically bounce from foot to foot. Carrie would come and go every so often, as would Sarah. She finally decided to take her pill once she saw that we were OK. Jeff, who has never done any drug, mostly sat with Dee. I was a little jealous of the attention given to Dee. I wanted everyone to pay attention to me. However, it was not enough to make me mad.
Normally, I am not a person who enjoys touching others except when I am drunk, then everyone is my best friend. That night I did not feel drunk at all, but I wanted to hug my friends. I felt no desire to hug or kiss strangers, nor did I feel any sexual feelings. I simply felt happy. I have often suspected that I suffer from depression and mood swings, but I felt like what I thought normal people felt like; capable of happiness and contentment.
The rave was utter crap. The music was bad, the people were unfriendly, and we had a five hour drive ahead of us. I think we were at the rave for less than four hours. I can't be sure, because time ceased to make sense to me. We knew no one in the area who would let us crash at their house. The three E-tards (as I now considered myself) piled in the back and the two sober people sat in front. We amused ourselves by talking, singing to our good Happy Hardcore, and playing. My hands still would not stop. Even when I was talking, they kept in time to the music in the background. After a bad car trip, a horrible rave, and the lack of sleep, being in close proximity to everyone would usually make me very irritable and I would have lashed out at my friends.
Back in our home state, we stopped at a rest area and the three of us had a wonderful bonding experience in the women's restroom. Urinating was fascinating, but not as much fun as pulling the individual squares out of the dispenser really fast. Everything was subject to our tactile curiosity. We wet our hands and ran them across the tile walls and the brushed metal of the stalls. We made piles of liquid soap in the sink, wrote PLUR on the mirrors, reveled in the sensations from the hot air dryers, and felt like badasses because we were smoking cloves in the girls' room. We tried sneaking out of the bathroom so we could play more before getting back in the car, but a horn blast sent us scurrying as one around a barrier to hide.
The next day, I noticed that I was very tired, but then I was up for almost 24 hours before I got to bed. I kept expecting to descend into a horrible depression during that first week, but I felt strangely content. Not as happy as that night, but I wasn't going into dark moods as I had before. Eventually, I did get depressed again, and I have recently begun taking imipramine, an anti-depressant. While I am not sure what role Ecstasy played in that development, I'm sure what happened to Dee was a major influence.
Dee is diagnosed manic-depressive and takes several medications and has been hospitalized for suicidal thoughts before. About two weeks after our experience, she took a bottle of extra strengh Tylenol and a bottle of sleeping pills. Even though I am one of her roommates, she did not wake me. Luckily, after two hours she called Jeff, who took her to the emergency room. She later told me that the Ecstasy had made her numb enough to actually follow through with one of her plans. After several weeks in the hospital and more drama, she made the decision to leave school and return home.
Dealing with the suicide attempt, my guilt at not having seen the signs, trouble with finances, trouble with schoolwork, and my own emotional troubles and fleeting suicidal thoughts led me to seek therapy, both in pharmaceutical and professional form. I was up front with my doctor about my Ecstasy trial and he just seemed curious about my impression. I am sure my current problems are not the fault of Ecstasy, but perhaps taking the drug brought them to the fore. If that is the case, I am grateful, because it forced me to deal with the problems. I would like to try it again, especially at a large rave in a city or perhaps at an E-party Sarah says she will host sometime. I am fearful of how the imipramine will interact, but taking Ecstasy again will most likely be an impulse decision based on the situation.
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