Citation: The Quiet. "Multiday Mood Lift, Potentially Dangerous: An Experience with Ephenidine & N-Ethylhexedrone (exp111988)". Erowid.org. Jun 7, 2018. erowid.org/exp/111988
300 mg Welbutrin daily
Typically 0-4 mg Klonopin a day for years
Daily Kratom 2-4 grams daily to stabilize mood.
A few days a week, phenibut: 1-4 grams
I am an addict striving for recovery, but struggling with severe treatment-resistant bipolar depression. In a lapse of judgement, I obtained Hexen (slang for N-Ethyl-Hexedrone and not to be confused with other derivatives/analogues) and Ephenidine. I obtained the ephenidine as a desperate attempt to escape daily thoughts of blowing my brains out and the worst depression I could imagine. Iíd read parts of a 2017 paper in Neuropharmacology
and thought it was worth a try.
Upon arrival, I did an allergy test with small bumps of both the hexen and ephenidine. I found both tolerable and pleasant, even though they were mixed. When I got home, I immediately dumped out all Hexen except 100 mg, which I gave to my roommate who unfortunately is my ex, who I will refer to as X.
X did an allergy test of the ephenidine. X found it intolerable at a dose as small as 5 or so mg insufflated. It upset their stomach (nausea and pain), clogged their nose so badly that they filled up a small bin with tissues, and generally made them feel like shit. About 6 hours after the initial bumps, I tried vaping it out of the glass pipe with a torch, but it felt incredibly toxic to my lungs. I snorted a little more, but not enough to get the full effects, but there was a tingle of the ďmagic.Ē Dosage, in total, 50mg-100mg, though I now know that I scorched much of the ephenidine, rendering it largely ineffective and toxic. I had had a good night beforehand, but the nose clogging and coughing was unbearable. That combined with sleeping next to my ex, X, made it a rather unpleasant experience with moderate dissociation. It was nothing remarkable other than feeling my parts disassembled from self body and mind and an immense calm for about 30 minutes.
It was nothing remarkable other than feeling my parts disassembled from self body and mind and an immense calm for about 30 minutes.
I, the central ego, was separate from my numerous traumas. My father and brother will die in the next 10 years, leaving only my mother and I as far as immediate relatives. Iíve been molested I donít know how many times (including by X) and physically assaulted by X a month or so earlier. Iím bipolar (idk if 1 or 2). I recently graduated college and relocated only to get a dui after my DD, X, disappeared. Stupidly, I got behind the wheel. I spent 17 out of 20 days in jail before taking a deferred sentence, the terms of which include 2 years of addiction treatment and piss tests. All this, I picked up and put down calmly while lying in bed with X. After 30 minutes, I promptly felt like I ate shit.
At some point I asked them (X uses they/them pronouns so when I say ďtheyĒ I am referring to one person unless otherwise specified as a group. Itís really not that complicated.) if they had thrown away the remaining Hexen and they said yes. If theyíd said no, I was going to ask them to dump the rest, because I know it to be a ridiculously addictive chemical. The next day, I deduced, drug addict that I am, that X was lying (X often lies) and quickly found the stash. I began vaping it out of a glass ďpiloĒ with a small torch but found the vapor intolerable, causing anxiety and depression with little euphoria or functional stimulation, yet a paradoxical compulsion to redose on par with the worst of such drugs. It was slightly more tolerable (taste and feeling of toxicity in the lungs was reduced) on foil.
X woke up and I immediately told them I knew they had lied and Iíd taken the drugs. X got angry and began yelling, then insisted I help them vape the rest of it, which I did. By this point, I was feeling like total shit as empty as the space between stars and broken as a car whose owner totalled it by knowingly driving into a brick wall. Iíd been sober for 30-60 days from everything nonprescribed except moderate amounts of weed and alcohol, never more than once or twice a week. I am in Intensive Outpatient Chemical Dependency groups. In response to the Hexen-induced anxiety, I began eating my kpins (3mg total over the course of 6 hours in the am) at a rate higher than normal, such was my level of anxiety.
That evening, I gave the ephenidine a real go. I was crying most of the day (ashamed at using hexen, knowing Iíd have to lie about it to my treatment group to stay out of jail for a deferred prosecution dui). Iíd researched and found only two reports of successful vaping experiences. It occurred to me that everyone was probably roasting the fuck out of the ephenidine and perhaps needed a more delicate touch. First, I tried using a bic to light the glass pipe, which was slightly better but still gross. Then I put it on heavy duty foil, only one layer of foil (this is key), lit a candle, created a straw out of rolled up paper, or a dismembered pen, and held it perhaps 4 inches above the flame, would lower it then move it according to flameís lean and pull back as needed. It took some tinkering, but the powder melted into either a clear liquid or a slightly yellow liquid, totally unlike the black residue left on the glass. The vapor was smooth and I barely coughed. If it turned black, Iíd burned it and it tasted like shit. Over the course of an hour and a half, I got the hang of it and vaped probably 100 mg (though Iím sure I wasted plenty).
The repetition of every hit took me deeper into a meditative state that seemed reflected by the impenetrable surface of the foil, which never turned black on either side. Everything is fascinating on dissociatives in my experience. I stood; it was as if another me was standing up at the same and the timing of the two selvesí motion was disjointed. I realized I was thirsty and needed to pee, which should be taken as a warning that it is easy to lose track of your bodily needs on this drug; practice harm reduction. The calm from the last night came back but deeper. Iím certain that the klonopin dulled any visuals and probably the dissociative experience as a whole. I found it stimulating and way different than insufflation.
After I peed, Ii slid through the hallway on my belly like a trellis and reengaged with X. We had previously been looking for something to do that evening downtown, but nothing appealing popped so I we went on a walk through a forest pretty typical of those surrounding south Puget Sound. A half mile later - in the dark, mind you - we arrived at a bluff over the Puget Sound as the color was disappearing over or under the horizon. We hung a two person hammock and held each other with a thumbfuling blueberries into our mouths as the sky dimmed. X didnít want water (some sort of joke about wanting to die a slow painful death) but I slurped it (harm reduction). We talked about some personal shit, affirmed our love for one another whilst retaining a solid ďfuck off, I canít wait for us to be done, but Iím paradoxically going to treasure certain moments of such as thisĒ.
Iíd never navigated this particular spot before in the dark and only twice in the light; that indicates that ephenidine is remarkably lucid whilst being fucked out of my mind. It made me empathetic enough - or X was generous enough - to be lighthearted with one another, whereas nearly every conversation before for days escalated rather quickly. It started to get cold so I led the way home.
The next morning I felt ok, which is the equivalent of amazing for me
The next morning I felt ok, which is the equivalent of amazing for me
as someone who for months had involuntary visualizations of blowing my brains out. I clung to that and microdosed 30 mg more, took my daily meds, and went about my day feeling halfway human for once.
That night, I decided I wanted to dive deep, and without klonopin holding me back. I vaped the better part of 100 mg (Even with this modified form of vaping there was numbness in mouth lips and tongue and I could tell that continued use was unsustainable for my lungs), and used one of those nasal spray containers Iíd converted into a boofer (rectal administration) by knifing out a decent sized hole in the tip to administer 40mg mixed with water. Then I laid down, oiled myself up and took it straight to the bum. I snorted another 30 mg for good measure and hopped in the shower, turned the lights out, put on some mount kimbie and cleaned the shower. Cleaning always makes me feel better about my fucked up life, so it made perfect sense at the time, until I realized Iíd grabbed window cleaner not the multipurpose cleaner. Time was severely warped and there were indistinct colored geometries with open and closed eyes, not that it made much a difference since it was pitch black. I engaged in a similar kind of erratic body movements resembling a robot doing bad modern dance that felt intensely right. I was rather blown away by the intensity; I expected tolerance to get in the way. The hot water ran out, I turned on the lights and it felt like waking from a dream. If I could have I would have stayed in the shower for the duration cause when I got out I didn't quite know what to do with myself. I splayed out on the futon in the dimmest light possible and worked on this trip report and read others experiences as well. Even the dimmest setting seemed too bright on my computer. Eventually I lost interest and mostly laid down observed the incarnation of my parts as tangible objects thoughts and visions. The stimulation was still present and the euphoria pretty great.
Something came to me about the idea of anonymity incarnate and I worked on some poetry on the subject but didn't get very far. It's a delicate idea but I felt it important that certain aspects of myself remain anonymous to others - even to myself - poking their heads out at times but always in the guise of a different source, perhaps dissociated from my person.
I fell asleep about 6 hours after dosing even though the effects were still present. The euphoria was mostly gone.
I woke up a little hungover after not enough sleep and microdosed some more but found it dissatisfying.
Three days later and I felt baseline but my mood is significantly lifted. I would not recommend it as a treatment for depression as it is unresearched and potentially unsafe nor would I recommend dosing daily for any amount of time. I knew the drug was still built up in my system but noticeable dissociation was gone.
It mostly lacked the devilish amnesia and ridiculous urge to redose typical of vaping diphenidine, but was nowhere near as euphoric. It lasts longer when vaped than diphinidine, and tolerance builds quickly making it difficult to ďholeĒ.
X wanted to try again with a different roa since we both thought the horrible response to it could have to do with the roa, but vaping it was even worse. Their nose immediately clogged but against my recommendation they continued until it was clear that this chemical was intolerable to them. They suffered headaches, throat pain, stomach pain, nausea, did not trip and vomited. After vomiting they even collapsed which was terrifying. They lost consciousness and stopped breathing for a few seconds. This has happened before as they have occasional non epileptic seizures and a severe eating disorder. I cannot stress enough that if you are going to try this chemical you must start with a miniscule amount and if you have any of the reactions above respect your body and DONíT TRY AGAIN. I consider X lucky.
I don't know whether it's placebo but for the first time in months I didnít involuntarily envision blowing my brains out on a daily basis and anhedonia subsided a bit.
Three days after my last dose, I vaped and plugged around 300 mg using the same methods over the course of 3 hours. It was the most intense experience yet on the chemical, but I have much less to say since the trip was dominated by the experience of reading a short pamphlet-like book by Hatem Imam called the Passing. Itís a combination of Lithographs and spare poetry, about 60 pages long and there are only 99 copies in existence so donít bother trying to find it. Even rereading it sober, I can say that it is an otherwordly, unspeakably sorrowful, ethical piece of fine art that should be in the halls of famous contemporary art museums, but seems all the more magical for being so rare.
In regards to the last trip: the magic associated with the first experience of diphenidine or dxm or nitrous or k, etc. was not so much present even though I was way more fucked up. The lucidity remained. The head trip increased, as did the euphoria, music was orgasmic, visuals increased, stimulation increased, etc. But reading The Passing left me in such a state that only the most powerful artworks can achieve and was far more salient than the ephenidine.
I think there is a potential for addiction here, but very little because of diminishing returns, quick build up of tolerance, the caustic nature of the chemical, and the amounts needed to achieve breakthrough experiences. I have to wait 6 months to see a psychiatrist and do not see this breach in sobriety as a relapse, but rather an example of the failure of the american healthcare system to provide treatment for the mentally ill and an example of the lengths people are willing to go to find adequate medication. Itís been two days since the last trip and the lifted mood is still going strong. Iíve had typical ups and downs, but theyíre not paralyzing depressionÖ theyíre just moods.
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