Citation: still alive. "The Dying Snowman's View of the Sun: An Experience with Pharmahuasca (Syrian Rue & DMT) (exp112319)". Erowid.org. Sep 17, 2018. erowid.org/exp/112319
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For about 10 years I have gained quite a lot of experience with psycholytic substances which were all of very good quality: LSD, MDMA, methylone, DMT, mescaline, and fungi. Most of the time I have travelled in professionally and amicably managed settings, but often on my own.
So far I have taken DMT twice orally and smoked several times. Most of my experiences with DMT have been extremely impressive and have made me curious about the enormous potential of this substance. Reading Strassmann's book 'DMT' also encouraged me to continue experimenting with DMT.
Now to the journey:
Ten to eleven in the morning: I know I'll be alone in the house for the next ten hours. I take the carefully prepared broth:- an extract from 3 grams of syrian rue. The day before, I used a pepper mill to grind the seeds of this desert plant into a very fine powder and then boiled them with the juice of a lime and about the same amount of water for about an hour and a half. A paper tea filter was used to filter out the coarser components at the end. What remained was a yellowish green, not particularly appetizing looking juice, which fills half a drinking glass. Then I drink it. I'm sure there's something tastier. But knowing it's for a good cause, it's relatively easy on me. The tension and anticipation prevails, especially as I am increasingly attracted by the active plant ingredients. A knowledgeable friend advised me to wait until the slightly sedating effect of the harmalin has set in to make sure that the DMT I took orally later can also work.
Forty minutes later - around half past eleven in the morning - I decide to take the capsule filled by myself with carefully weighed 320 mg brownish DMT - although I cannot actually feel any effect of the syrian rue at this time. I think the whole experiment might be a flop.
After approx. 25 minutes, a first clear visual effect of the DMT sets in. Geometric patterns overlay my optical perception of the space in which I find myself. Although I am pleased that.
I have obviously succeeded in preventing the corresponding enzymes (MAO) from degrading DMT with the help of the harmalin of the syrian rue, I do not find the geometric patterns particularly exciting. They don't touch me, they don't mean anything to me. A short time later a soft, benevolent energy builds up in me - the journey, of which I do not yet know where it will lead me, seems to be under a good star. Then the effect soon flattens out again and I wonder slightly disappointed whether it's already over. I decided to resist a crazy impulse of my greed to take another gram of mushrooms. It is only a thought with no willpower, only a thought game with a possibility, which I - thank God - resist in view of what comes later. I know too well that DMT comes in waves and its course is unpredictable for me. So I just keep waiting.
I know too well that DMT comes in waves and its course is unpredictable for me. So I just keep waiting.
Heartburn occurs - certainly a result of the DMT in my stomach. I briefly wonder if the capsule may have got stuck in my esophagus and dissolved there. I drink some water and keep waiting. It doesn't take long, and an undercurrent of fear begins to creep up on me. One thing is for sure: I am getting worse and worse, fear and restlessness attack me, I have to vomit, more and more often, try to find my way back to me, feel increasingly overwhelmed by a force stronger than I am, which takes me in its grip, submits me mercilessly, causes my body to revolt, lets me vomit more and more often. Fortunately, with wise foresight, I have provided an appropriate bowl for this case. In my distress I admit: 'Yes, I see it - I do not want to admit that there is something greater than myself, something much more powerful than myself, something I must acknowledge as a force above me, to which I am exposed, like the snowman who looks into the sun, has enough consciousness, but has no chance to escape its melting power. What he sees will undoubtedly melt his form, his identity.' In my distress I agree to die, lie down as I have learned in dealing with psychedelic substances in order to find silence again.
But the force is just too strong - it scares me too much, I am afraid to die. I am suffering more and more, at some point I feel pressed into the mud of a sorrowful existence, forced to die, to give up my identity forever, to lose myself - panic grips me that I could lose myself forever, never find myself again. I enter a strange energetic space in which only flowing energies are formed, constantly merging into one another, foreign energies, a foreign world for which I am not yet ready, that's how it feels. Then I begin to head for a point. The feeling is: if I immerse myself in this point, it will tear me apart - either I will become enlightened or insane. This point seems to me like the centre of consciousness, of all being. The craziness I am now experiencing can best be indicated by the effect that can be created on a screen when a video camera points to the screen it feeds with its images: a self-referential loop is created that seems to point to infinity. Only now my own consciousness is short-circuited to myself. I know I should give myself to it, but the fear of madness is far too great - fear of death. Fear of death. FEAR OF DEATH! Suddenly I find myself in absolute emptiness. Nothing. Nothing at all. I am no longer I, but only an astonished point of consciousness without identity, astonishment at the absolute formless emptiness. Nothing. Just nothing.
Then I see a hyperintelligent being - like a multi-armed elephant from Indian mythology - bending over our world it is constantly creating. The creator of our world. Then again infinite physical, no - rather mental suffering. I have no physical pain, but I still suffer infinitely. I squirm in the fight for my life. No! I don't want to die! I'm so happy to be alive! I'm screaming for help inside. Over and over again. This suffering seems to me like a deeper reality, feels more real than my normal everyday reality - as if my previously experienced normality was only illusionary icing on the actual horror of existence. A frosting that is now destroyed once and for all by DMT. My tank of self-sufficiency, my bulwark against my existential trembling is blown to pieces. I'm just a whimpering misery inside. After another attack of vomiting.
I wish to take a shower. I use a phase in which I can briefly keep myself on my feet again for a while and go down from our attic to the bathroom. I wonder in retrospect that I didn't fall down the steep stairs in my condition. I can still make it to the shower with stubborn steps. This place will be my death chamber. I sometimes completely lose my bearings and put half the bathroom under water, because the water no longer drains as quickly as I let it run. I drink from the shower head, freeze immediately when I do not let warm water flow over me, sometime I notice with fright that the water has already spread into our corridor. I laboriously turn off the water, fight for coordination, collapse again, start to freeze again, thirst again - turn the water on again. I'm completely losing control of myself.
My condition is getting worse, more and more threatening. The dying continues. Then my stomach won't stop rising and falling. It's like breathing, only my stomach absorbs water instead of air and then releases it almost relaxed. In hindsight, I would say that by this point in time I had reached an almost completely unresisting, completely softened state in which a touch of relaxed bliss was drifting into my consciousness. But then the hell ride went on. Suddenly it dawned on me, no, I finally realized like a lightning strike that I had gone too far today, that I am now dying. Now I am struck again and again by this shock of knowledge that I am about to die. Or at least that I actually got severe ly and forever hurt in my mind. I am now convinced that I have forever destroyed the one in me that I was, that I will be found either dead or completely insane, all neuronal circuits in my brain irretrievably glowed through and I will have to spend the rest of my life in psychiatry with a terrible desert of consciousness in my head, unable to explain what happened, only enough consciousness to suffer, but nothing more. An unfortunate case of care. It will be necessary to reconstruct what has happened.
I'm FEAR, FEAR, FEAR. I can't move, can't take care of myself, freeze, cover myself with wet, cold cloths, suck water out of the cloths because I'm thirsty. Finally I understand: I have to get help immediately. I drag myself to the phone, call a friend, who is unfortunately not at home, speak laboriously with grave voice to her answering machine, that I urgently need help. Then a short time later I realize the miracle: the effect diminishes. Something I didn't think was possible. It is now four o'clock in the afternoon. I call again, speak a second time on the answering machine and give the all-clear. A short time later she shows up and takes care of me.
Later the experienced fear comes back in waves, even days later, more underground, not so strong. In the first wave I feel the fear of an astronaut who has been too long in the universe, has lost his humanity there too much and whose gravity is no longer sufficient to float back to Earth, the only island in the infinitely strange and cold universe. He has enough consciousness to recognize what is happening to him, but no power and no possibility to prevent his own floating and getting lost in space. Two days later while jogging, I feel as if two dinosaur-like lizards emerged from the forest, eyeballing me. It's more of a vivid imagination, not a hallucination, but clearly of DMT quality. For a few more weeks, my consciousness moves very close to the border of this uncanny world. Surprisingly, I am still able to work, but I was happy to have kept the week free immediately after the weekend experience.
I am still able to work, but I was happy to have kept the week free immediately after the weekend experience.
Looking back, it was pure madness to undertake this enormous journey alone without a sitter. To my 'excuse' I must say that I have never experienced such a dimension of consciousness bursting - even my experience with 600 micrograms of LSD (with sitter) was a leisurely walk in the forest against it. I once again realized how important it is for DMT to have the right timing and quality of harmony. Several times during the preparation of the trip I was assured that 320 mg DMT was a good dose and exactly the one I had already experienced very well in a group setting. I had taken exactly the same material from the same source for my self-experiment described here. However, I used another harmalin, which was obviously extremely potent. Or maybe the scale wasn't precise enough and I took more than I thought. Another experiment with DMT will be done with a sitter and at most with only half, if not a third, of the DMT amount, i.e. Between 100-160mg DMT.
One of the positive effects was that I was catapulted into humility in an unbelievable way with a merciless force. Since then I have more compassion for suffering creatures. Another positive, albeit very tough lesson was the realization that there is an immeasurably greater power than me. For a few months I had been afraid of death since this experience, which was previously alien to me, because since the journey I had feared that after dying I would again - and then without a return ticket - come into this room of infinite suffering and madness. Recently it suddenly made 'click' in my mind and I understood that I was there before I was born, that I am allowed to stay for a while on this island of humanity before I have to leave again, i.e. that this immeasurably great power obviously also brought me here, so it was well intentioned and not only as terrible as I experienced it during the journey.
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