Citation: Anatoli Smorin. "Accidental High Dosage: 3-ME-Uh Oh-PCP: An Experience with Ketamine & 3-MeO-PCP (exp112509)". Erowid.org. Oct 29, 2018. erowid.org/exp/112509
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.]
I consider myself to be relatively experienced with substance usage. I have extensively experimented with tryptamines, phenethylamines, stimulants, opioids, and dissociatives. At the time this experience occurred, I was taking no daily vitamins or medications. Tolerance technically could have been a factor as I had used racemic ketamine (total of 59 mg, insufflated) roughly 48 hours prior to the usage described in this report. I also had a tolerance to alcohol, drinking two or three shots each evening for the four days prior. I smoke cannabis daily, but had not ingested any on this particular day. I had also used methylone the evening before (total of 110 mg, insufflated).
In the writing of this report, I have used a combination of notes written during the actual experience as well as consultations with my great friend Bodhi who was present during the experience and ended up taking on the role of a “sitter” when things got a bit spicy. The substances used in this experience were sourced from a vetted and highly trusted chemist. The ketamine was racemic and derived from medical grade liquid through evaporation. The 3-MeO-PCP tested at > 98% purity and analysis showed it to indeed be 3-MeO-PCP. The clonazepam was sourced from a pharmacy and were circular green pills stamped with “TEVA” on one side and a single score mark with an “833” imprinted on the other side.
This experience took place deep in a prominent but remote mountain range in the Northwestern United States. This was the fourth night of a five-night day backpacking trip. My only company for the week was my mate Bodhi.
T + 00:00 [6:30 PM]
Today has been beautiful. Bodhi and I covered just over 8 miles through incredibly beautiful mountain and high alpine scenery. We are both in high spirits as we finish setting up our camp. Firewood has been gathered and a fire lit. Our hammocks are hung up and we have enjoyed a light dinner of cured meat, cheeses, and water. Our view this evening is particularly beautiful. We overlook a mid-sized turquoise-colored alpine lake with a sheer cliff rising out of the water on the side closest to us. Bodhi and I chat about the day’s scenery and some other light topics. We are now passing a flask of whiskey back and forth.
T + 00:51 [7:21 PM]
We have finished the flask now (4 ounces each 50% ABV). I am feeling the alcohol warm my insides. Beyond a pleasant relaxation, both physical and mental, I do not feel any strong effects from the liquor. This is the last portion of our trip before we will start to encounter other hikers as we enter less remote areas closer to our destination trailhead. We decide to have a bit of a “last hoorah” this evening and ingest some substances. Bodhi elects to smoke some cannabis and insufflate some methylone. Ketamine is my material of choice.
T + 01:00 [7:30 PM]
Using the scale is a little tricky. I create as flat a surface as possible on a hardcover notebook that I shelter from the wind using my backpack. The numbers finally stabilize enough to make me confident in the accuracy. I crush the crystals up as finely as I can and insufflate the 36 mg.
T + 01:06 [7:36 PM]
I’ve departed baseline now. My thought process is beginning to slow down. I have been in a good mood all day, but I feel even more carefree now.
T + 01:11 [7:41 PM]
I return to my makeshift weighing station and prepare and insufflate another 51 mg. I am hoping to ramp up my visuals before sunset occurs which is now rapidly approaching. I sit down on a comfortable patch of grass and stretch my legs out. The soreness from today’s trek is being washed away. The achy feet and the tightness in my shoulder have all but vanished. The ground I am sitting on seems more comfortable than it should.
T + 01:35 [8:05 PM]
The lake’s surface has become choppy as a cool breeze swirls out of the mountains behind us. Growing chilly, I walk to my pack to retrieve warmer socks and my down coat. My movement is beginning to feel robotic. I seem to be calculating and executing my actions with extreme precision.
My movement is beginning to feel robotic. I seem to be calculating and executing my actions with extreme precision.
Thoroughly enjoying the effects thus far, I add 64 mg of ketamine to my evening (insufflated).
T + 01:52 [8:22 PM]
Sitting in front of the fire is blissful. I feel a little colder than I would have expected given the temperature and clothing I have on. I notice Bodhi is sitting farther away from the flames than I am. As I close my eyes and face in the direction of the fire, orange and yellow cartoon elephants spring to life, dancing in a circular pattern. These closed eyed visuals are highly entertaining to me and I feel my face shift into a smile as I continue to watch the show. The cartoon animals are constantly shifting colors and their shapes squish and change. The scene reminds me very much of the Pink Elephants on Parade segment from the Dumbo film. The longer I watch, the more the background, previously a black void, comes to life. Smaller elephants form as segments of the larger cartoons in the main marching circle break off. The crispness and vividness of the colors and lines is exceptionally high. I could be content here in front of the fire like this forever.
T + 02:05 [8:35 PM]
The sun has dipped behind the mountains to our west, leaving us with a sky that becomes increasingly pink and orange. I shift my gaze to the lake just down below us. The surface of the water is mesmerizing. The texture created by the wind is taking shape into linear patterns. These patterns look like the crafted paper snowflakes that are used as decoration often around winter holidays. My eyes hold focus on one design for a second or two before automatically refocusing on a newly discovered pattern on the water’s surface. I can’t control this pattern recognition, and it feels as though my eyes' frame rate is dropping. Upon each “refresh” the water has obviously moved and my brain picks up the new data and creates the next temporary design across the top of the water.
T + 02:19 [8:49 PM]
With the light fading fast, I retrieve my headlamp out of my bag and discuss with Bodhi my desire to take one last larger dosage of the ketamine before potentially switching over to methylone so we could get more on the same wavelength and enjoy the fire and each other’s company.
My fine motor skills have dropped off significantly. Mental confusion is also on the rise. I am sorting through the various bags of substances looking for the ketamine but can’t focus on the task at hand. There are only perhaps ten small baggies of various substances we brought with us, but to me, there seems to be a hundred and I can’t decide on a system to locate the correct one. I’m also struggling to operate my headlamp. The light device has a simple pattern of clicking the on button a certain number of times for the various settings (flood light, dim light, spot light, and a red tinted light designed for use at night). No matter what I do, I can’t get the light off the red setting, which is frustrating and making the search more difficult.
I finally retrieve what I believe is the ketamine bag, but I accidentally have picked up 3-MeO-PCP. I do not notice the difference in the powder granularity and color, likely due to my intoxication and the poor lighting. I weigh out 119 mg and insufflate.
I don’t notice any difference in the insufflation sensations such as sting or drip taste. I am woefully unaware of the error I have made. I stand up and look up at Bodhi, my red-colored headlamp shining menacingly, and fatefully say, “It’s go time”.
T + 02:22 [8:52 PM]
I am now aware that something is not right.
I am now aware that something is not right.
Just moments after standing up, the intensity of my visuals is skyrocketing. I pull the headlamp down around my neck, unable to turn it off with my clumsy hands. I take a few steps towards the fire; my ability to balance is rapidly deteriorating. Each step seems to take more and more time. I’m wobbling badly and finally sit on a log we had brought near the fire for just such purpose. I look over at Bodhi and communicate to him that something is wrong. I don’t have any idea what is the cause, but I know this is getting very intense, very quickly. This feels like a dissociative DMT blast off. Everything around me looks fake, as if it is formed of plastic. The world simply doesn’t look or feel real. My depth perception is a joke. The trees across the lake somehow seem just a few feet away. As I look at these trees my visual field slices into long vertical sections. The slices rearrange, taking the place of their neighboring sections. I turn my head away, and find it is difficult to see. The flames of the fire are alternating between normal and a fast forward type pace, like a video playing at double or triple speed. My own arms however are moving in slow motion. I move my hand in front of the air in front of me. I feel my arm reach its destination on my lap, but I am still seeing the arm choppily move across the air. There is no smooth trailing effect. Instead the actual arm is seen seconds after the motion completed, still in the air moving in a choppy, segmented, cut-up manner.
There are a few moments that I retain lucidity, or at least a condition where I am allowed to organize my own thoughts. I spend that precious time simply wondering: “what went wrong? The dosage was fine, but this is way more than I should be feeling” . . . My mind is careening down pathways of negative thoughts.
I am now too disconnected from reality to continue rational thoughts. I feel energy approaching, a massive amount of raw energy. I stare at the cliff in front of me. I cannot recognize it as stone or earth. I see only an abstract, morphing, block of green and brown. I am not connecting what I am seeing with the surroundings I know to be there. I am not truly connected to my mind or body. I’m some sort of other entity that is bearing witness to this display of color through my eyes. I don’t know what I’m viewing, or what is going on.
My attention is drawn across the lake towards the last glow of the sunset. My visual field resembles a pointillist style painting done in a crude manner. My external environment is breaking into circles that vibrate and shake making it difficult to see with any accuracy. In the visual chaos, I see the source of the energy I detected earlier. A wall of red has erupted from the lake. I can do nothing but stare as this otherworldly presence grows.
THE RED flexes its muscles and grows larger. Larger, STILL LARGER?! Eyes open or eyes closed makes no difference now. THE RED has formed an impenetrable, yet not menacing, wall in front of me. It has moved towards me since I first saw it across the lake. Perhaps it has removed everything else around me, or consumed it. Any estimation of what THE RED is capable of is an underestimation. It is THE RED.
So here I sit, pondering what the dangly useless things I call legs when I am sober are for. I’m completely unaware of my arms, chest, heart, lungs, hair, or anything that I once called “me”. I have become weightless despite the unforgivingly uncomfortable log I am sitting on. I think my mouth drops open slightly now. I can hear my brother Bodhi say something like “It’s all good brother, big breaths . . . big breaths”.
I can hear my brother Bodhi say something like “It’s all good brother, big breaths . . . big breaths”.
He sounds like he is speaking from miles away and through a poorly maintained walkie-talkie. I can hear the words, understand them even, but I’m removed, in a totally different place. Time has begun to dilute itself, stretching seconds into minutes and minutes into hours. This is not a comfortable sensation at the moment. I’ve experienced changes in perception of time to various degrees over the years, and this certainly ranks towards the top in terms of extremity. This is reminiscent of the peaks of high dosage LSD experiences that involved a catalyst such as nitrous oxide or DMT. Time not only slows down, but grinds to a halt altogether, leaving me in a bizarre, ‘frozen here forever’ scenario.
A general sensation of concern for my own mental and physical health is welling inside me. One part of me realizes I have jumped off the high-dive and is excited to see what waits at the bottom of the pool. The other part of me wants to know how on earth I ended up on the diving board at all with my careful dosage preparations and cautious attitude. These thoughts are not organized. They might not even be thoughts. I would describe them as more realizations or ideas that were fed by emotion. I did not summon them, create them, certainly I could not analyze or control them in any way. I experienced them as a mere witness to my mind’s reaction to its current situation.
My concerned emotion cranks up to a tidal wave of fear as THE RED flexes its muscle once more. There is not anything in my sight that is not blazing, scorching, screaming, fire-engine red. I sloppily turn my head left: all I see is red. I manage to bounce my neck to the right: red. The color pulses and swells, I can tell it has depth. This is no curtain about to reveal a secret. This is an indestructible wall of power about to have its way with me, whatever that may be.
A mechanical buzzing and whining noise grinds at my ears. While not incredibly loud the sound seems to continue building, never reaching full force. This is like a Shepherd scale for volume rather than pitch. The sounds are relatively high pitched. Higher than a refrigerator’s groan but lower than bee’s buzz. A strong effect certainly, but it takes a backseat to the maelstrom of mental and visual distortion that is ravaging me.
I feel Bodhi’s fingers land on my shoulders. Without words he firmly massages me. I come back to myself a bit with this reminder of the rest of the world. I had forgotten it existed, and I feel as though I have been gone from it for a great amount of time now. I enjoy the physical touch, but I cannot force a word out to express it. I grunt instead and drop my head to my chest.
The only physical sensation I have is the pressure of Bodhi‘s fingers on my shoulders. Beyond that, I cease to exist in terms of my physical body. I don’t feel a sensation of movement, no hyperspace propulsion, no sucking down of a K-Hole. I feel a disintegration that begins without me knowing it. I lost the ability to feel my body long ago, but this is a new level of it. I am aware of myself separating from the physical self. Shedding it. There is absolute silence now. My everyday tinnitus (present in silence) is gone. Utter silence is now my only auditory input. My eyes have been closed since I lowered my head. THE RED has released me temporarily to a golden field made up of an uncountable number of tiny strings standing vertically, like overgrown blades of grass. The strings do not wave in the wind and wait to be mowed such as grass might, however. Instead, some of them bend in a mechanical motion to form a perfect L shape. These bent strings forge together, each connection producing a sharp and quick spark, like the flint of a glorified Bunsen burner striker. Despite all this intricacy, color, detail, and beauty, I begin to not pay attention. My mind is dissolving now in addition to my body. I do not know if I actually opened my eyes, or if they are still shut but I have the sensation of directing my gaze (whether through my actual physical eyeballs or not) upward towards the sky.
I’m losing myself. All thoughts are erasing, I don’t remember that I have the ability to think a thought; I don’t even know that I am. My mind is not my mind any longer; I have a sensation dissimilar to any other I have yet to come across. It feels as though the atoms between my ears have been buzzing and vibrating at my own personal frequency and suddenly now they are in tune and match with the rest of the universe. This allows them to spread outwards, dissipating into the ether. I still cannot tell if my eyes are open or shut at this point, either way it makes no difference. THE RED has overcome everything, or maybe it always was everything. I am now inside it, surrounded by it: one with it. This becomes tricky to word properly because at this moment “I” am not really an “I”. I’m more of an “everything” but also very much a “nothing”. For the sake of being able to articulate the experience clearly, I will avoid calling myself a “we” or any other such rendition, I will remain, in words on this page, an “I”. Everything around me is the purest radiating red color I have ever seen. THE RED is now endless, an abyss reaching out to infinite distances. No longer a solid structure of any kind. It is now more like I am in outer space except instead of black, the “space” glows the color of roses.
All around me there is movement and intricacy. The overall “feel” of this “place” is calm; there is neither sensation of movement nor any sound. All is silent and peaceful. There is power however, and a lot of it. Like the ocean: gentle, smooth, and slow moving when viewed from afar – but once in it, the depth, weight and sheer might of it is clear and tangible. The movement surrounding me covers every size of scale. Large tectonic plates shift and grind, providing me a sense of how massive this place I inhabit is. These plates seem to be thousands of feet tall; some so large I cannot see the tops or bottoms of them. Closer to me, smaller square and rectangular shapes appear out of the abyss. These appear instantly, from the great wide red void I am floating in. There is not any outline around these shapes, it is more as though a cube is pressed outwards from the background of the 360 degrees of red. As the blocks pop in and out, spiraling patterns of varying shades of red spring to life on all sides of the shapes. The patterns are not particularly beautiful, mostly thin lines that rapidly rearrange themselves in sporadic positions.
I don’t feel like I do in a normal dissociative “hole”. I still feel like I have completely lost touch with my own mind. The perspective I am taking this new world from is not my own. I process and witness the visual scene but that is about it. I can’t think, I can’t react, and I can’t do anything but watch. My physically body is still a foreign concept.
Out of nowhere I regain a piece of my consciousness and self-awareness. I know who I am again. “I” am now “me” once again. My merging with THE RED is over. My visual field is still unrecognizable. I seem to be in a mix of THE RED’s interior abyss and the actual outside camp world. I can tell my eyes are open now. I see some of the smaller red cubes rotating slowly in a stack just to my left. These are as real as the trees, ground, and fire that I am now also beginning to make out. Everything is the wrong size. As I look to my left into the forest some of the trees look tiny, not much taller than myself. The campfire on the other hand is somehow impossible to look over or around; it’s enormous! Nothing looks real. Instead everything is saturated and appears to be a mix of a shiny plastic material and a cartoon. My eyes can’t communicate with my brain anywhere close to a normal speed. Every time I move my focal point, the objects of my previous view remain in sight. They overlap and mechanically morph into the new objects in view. Colors and patterns drag to and fro across my visual field causing disorientation and discomfort. I decide to keep my head as still as possible to reduce the intensity of the visual effects.
I am aware enough now to perceive time. It seems as though I have been away from my mind for years. I attempt to rationalize a bit more and estimate I have been out of body for perhaps a few hours. Words are still not something I can manage.
The come down is as much of a rocket ship as the come up. All of a sudden I feel very sober. I still have plenty of open-eyed visuals, the colors in my vision are saturated and strong drifting is happening on every surface of my surroundings. The sun has completely set now, so the only light source is our campfire and headlamps. I feel this contributing to my sense of coming down, there is less to look at and this is resulting in a smaller amount of visuals. The other world’s red blocks have disappeared from my vision and I am now aware of the fact that I have a body. Normally this level of visual effect would be intense for me. I’d say I’m still at a +++ on the Shulgin Rating Scale. After being dominated and melted into THE RED however, this state feels relatively grounded.
I speak finally. Apologizing to Bodhi profusely. I feel deep shame within myself. I am supposed to be the experienced one. Supposed to be the person who holds it together even under strong dosages. Heroic experiences are mostly a thing of the past for me unless I’m with my partner Kai in a safe place. An unintentional OBE far in the wilderness, was NOT what I was “supposed” to do. I feel embarrassed at my lack of control and feel that I’ve somehow ruined the entire week. This feeling of guilt consumes me. I break the negative thought chain by attempting to get myself some water. I am stumbling and swaying from side to side as I make the ten-foot journey to my bag. I’m feeling nauseous and all of a sudden very confused again. The moment of clarity is passing.
T + 02:51 [9:21 PM]
I call out to Bodhi to see how long it has been since I last insufflated. His answer brings chills to the core of my being: “About thirty minutes.”
I am now filled with fear. If what I just experienced was only the initial wave of effects, I wanted absolutely nothing to do with the next few hours of my life. My mind screams at me to abort in any way possible. I don’t need any convincing. I’m able to locate my bottle of clonazepam. Being in a prescription bottle, this was retrievable even in the dark with my incredibly poor motor skills. I take 4 mg instantly, and put 4 mg in my pocket.
T + 02:53 [9:23 PM]
I head back to the fire with my water. Drinking is difficult; a lot of the water ends up on my face and chest. I still am not mentally functional enough to theorize what on earth has happened. Still believing I somehow had a ++++ experience on ketamine, I see no issue with taking another 2 mg of clonazepam. I am not too concerned about respiratory depression issues, as I know ketamine has less effect on these bodily systems than other sedatives of various substance classes (at this point I still believe I have only ingested ketamine).
T + 02:55 [9:45]
My coordination is still elementary at best. I have had to take a few short walks away from camp to pee that demonstrate I am clearly still intoxicated. I found urination difficult to achieve despite the obvious sensation that I needed to. The clonazepam has put a damper on the moving visuals but everything still looks cartoonish and fake. My memory is faltering but I gladly accept the benzodiazepine haze and lack of short-term recall in the place of any more raging disassociation.
Bodhi and I chat lightly. I am spacey and removed mentally. I don’t feel like myself still. While I’m certainly in my own mind once again, real life, even the present moments occurring right now, feel distant and unimportant. There is a sense of relief knowing that no second tidal wave will be crashing down upon me. I am actually in a good mood I would say.
T + 03:28 [10:18 PM]
I am not taking as extensive notes as I normally would during an experience I intended to write about. I’m too caught up in happiness I feel to have survived my encounter with THE RED.
Physically I’m sedated. I’ve been lying near the fire on the ground, only moving to occasionally add wood to the burn. The ground is a mixture of short scraggly grass, dirt, and rocks. To me, it might as well be a cloud; I can’t feel where my body contacts the ground and am extremely comfortable.
T +03:45 [10:35 PM]
Both Bodhi and I are still mentally awake but physically drained. Despite the benzodiazepines, I have a stretched out headspace that I am no stranger to on the tail end of a large psychedelic experience. I’m not alert or stimulated, but I feel sleep is not an option yet. I decide to have a few sips of whiskey (approximately 2 ounces 50% ABV) and another 1 mg of clonazepam to push myself towards sleep.
The timestamp I enter as I climb into my hammock to try and sleep is illegible. Best guess is that it was around 11:00 PM.
As I lay in the hammock, I have no pronounced visuals. The cool air is heavenly as it blows across my face and even better as I take a series of deep breaths. I’m extremely sedated, barely moving even though I normally re-adjust constantly until I fall asleep.
T + 14:21 [7:11 AM + 1]
Sunrise has already happened, and I rouse myself out of the hammock to urinate and find a water bottle to help with my parched condition. Bodhi is already up making some oatmeal. I say good morning and immediately launch into a more sober apology for the evening before. I am mid-apology when Bodhi cuts me off and says: “Dude - Shut. The. Fuck. Up!” in his beautifully unique Midwestern accent that twangs towards a drawled out Australian. I can hear the truth and genuine tone in his voice. He reminds me that I have played the guide role for him many times before graciously (it’s true – I love this archetype) and thus it was no problem for him to return the favor.
I feel tremendous relief knowing that I did not burden him all night with my incapacitated condition. I think my embarrassment and guilt stem partially from the fact that I felt that I was incapacitated and required monitoring for hours and hours and hours. Hours is downplaying it; there is no way for me to shake the feeling that the experience lasted an incredible amount of time. I now can rationalize that Bodhi’s sense of time was drastically different than mine and while I felt a lifetime had passed, in Bodhi’s reality it was a normal 15-20 minutes that I was truly out of it.
T + 15:25 [8:15 AM + 1]
I’m feeling tired. Although my body is drained from the past week of carrying a pack through the mountains, this morning is more than that. I feel aged, suddenly in an old man’s mental space and body. I do not have any balance or coordination issues at this point but my vision remains affected. There is a surreal twinkle in the air as Bodhi and I begin trekking through the forest. Our surroundings seem too perfect and I feel as though I am in a dream. This sensation is very similar to the tail end of a large dose LSD experience. The clonazepam is still detectable in my system. The benzo haze is felt mostly in my mind rather than my body. The more relaxed mind state is helping me process last night’s experience in a calm and articulated manner.
Suddenly it hits me, I can’t believe I didn’t think of this sooner! I holler at Bodhi to pull over to the side of the trail. I open the container that holds the substances and do a quick inventory. 3-MeO-PCP and methoxetamine are the only potential culprits to have been mixed up with the ketamine and produce the intensity of last night’s experience. The 3-MeO-PCP bag was a neat 500 mg when we started our backpacking journey and I had not ingested any. I quickly tip the entire contents of the baggie onto my scale’s tray and confirm my suspicion: 381 mg. I had indeed taken an unintended substance at a dosage far higher than I would ever normally have. This makes me cringe; I’m disappointed and angry with myself for being so careless. I’m happy I realized this after the experience ended as knowing this information would have surely sent me down a frightening mental path worrying about overdosing or serious health issues during the experience.
I share my findings with Bodhi and we enter a discussion about harm reduction, lessons learned, and the trail that lies ahead of us.
Conclusion | Additional Notes:
I did not experience any mania or boost in energy. This could have been due to the ketamine prior to the 3-MeO-PCP and/or the clonazepam after. When I came down from the peak, I felt tremendous relief. The experience, being unintentionally intense, was generally uncomfortable. Certainly a “type two” fun that was more enjoyable to look back on than it was to live in the moment.
In the immediate days following this experience, I reflected greatly on the things I saw and felt. I felt disgraced for my mistake with the bags; this was not an error I should ever have made. I am grateful that the mix up affected me rather than others. I struggle to process the extremity of the experience on this night.
I am grateful that the mix up affected me rather than others. I struggle to process the extremity of the experience on this night.
When I explain it to others, it seems exaggerated or outlandish. I can’t deny what happened however. THE RED was a humbling experience to say the least. I do not have any lasting take-always from the experience itself. The loss of my “self” was cleansing, as out of body / ego death experiences tend to be for me. Given the lack of intention, I suppose I am pleased things went as well as they did. I’m grateful for the rapid onset that did not give me time to wonder if something was truly wrong before I reached a level of intensity that did not allow thoughts of a normal kind. I did not notice any short or long term HPPD type effects.
The visual effects faded gradually over the twelve hours following the last timestamp included in the experience. I smoked cannabis and drank hard alcohol the following evening without any adverse reactions. I did not note any potentiation / synergistic effects.
When I reviewed my notes and discussed the experience with Bodhi during the process of writing this report, a few things stood out in our conversation. Bodhi was surprised by the intensity of the visual and mental effects I described. From his perspective I was very calm. I was “clearly inebriated and very taken aback”, but he did not realize the reality-shattering quality of that fateful half hour. Bodhi did mention a few moments that I did not recall. At one point he threw a large log onto our fire and described my reaction as childish: filled with excitement, disbelief, and wonder. When he mentioned this, I began to recall it. I think. Maybe I recall him describing it to me the next day. There were certainly some memory issues on my part, but only for external events. I have sharper recollections of this experience, to this day, than many other experiences that have occurred since.
I will likely not attempt a dosage like this again with this substance. Prior to this accidental dosage, the most 3-MeO-PCP I had ever ingested was 59 mg (all insufflated) spread out over an evening (6+ hours), in combination with other dissociative substances, and that was very intense and involved multiple out-of-body type experiences.
Having a capable sitter present was absolutely crucial to keeping this experience from truly going off the rails. I’m certainly happy I planned ahead to have benzodiazepines available to abort a negative experience. Without them, I believe I would have been in for a much longer, much more negative evening.
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