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Separating From My Flesh Carriage
Ketamine & DMT
by Anatoli Smorin
Citation:   Anatoli Smorin. "Separating From My Flesh Carriage: An Experience with Ketamine & DMT (exp113441)". Erowid.org. Aug 2, 2019. erowid.org/exp/113441

 
DOSE:
T+ 0:00
35 mg insufflated Ketamine (powder / crystals)
  T+ 0:21 96 mg insufflated Ketamine (powder / crystals)
  T+ 0:53 31 mg vaporized DMT (powder / crystals)
  T+ 2:00 12 oz oral Alcohol - Beer/Wine (liquid)
  T+ 2:19 12 oz oral Alcohol - Beer/Wine (liquid)

BODY WEIGHT: 184 lb


Separating from my Flesh Carriage

Background Information

In the realm of substance experimentation I consider myself something of a seasoned veteran. I have extensive experience with stimulants, dissociatives, opioids, opiates, benzodiazepines, tryptamines, and phenethylamines. Many of my experiences involve research chemicals and unique combinations of substances. I particularly enjoy the exploration of combining multiple substances to see what synergistic or conflicting effects result.
I particularly enjoy the exploration of combining multiple substances to see what synergistic or conflicting effects result.
I think cocktails of chemicals can often yield the most rewarding experiences when crafted with care and intent.

I take 5000 IU of vitamin D3 daily along with 2400 mg of mesalamine for a lifelong stomach condition. I do not consider either of these to be a contributor factor in this experience.

All of the dosages in this report were prepared on a freshly calibrated .000 mg scale. The materials were sourced from a vetted chemist and tested using several reagents. I am confident the substances were indeed racemic ketamine and DMT and that their purity was true.

I chose to use racemic ketamine, rather than esketamine, because I was hoping to maximize the sedative effects I find racemic provides me. Esketamine can be a bit more sparkly and zippy at times. For me, esketamine is more similar to DMT (and most tryptamines in general) than racemic ketamine. I wanted to pull myself in a different direction to produce a slightly wider array of sensations.

The entirety of the experience in the report below was spent in the company of two close friends, Iroh and Bodhi, as well as my trusty dog Gee. We spent the evening in my home with comfortable lighting and soothing incense. We covered the floor of the living room in pillows and blankets to maximize our comfort. The set and setting were absolutely prime for an intense experience; I had responsible and experienced sitters, in a controlled and optimized space.

A combination of personally written notes, audio recordings, and notes from Iroh and Bodhi were used in the creation of this report. I am confident that the timestamps are accurate to within +- 5 seconds. Given the short duration (relative to other substances and experiences) of the peak of this experience, I employed extra care to include seconds in some of my timestamps in order to provide readers with as much data as possible.

I have tried this combination several time before but never in such a controlled environment or with the intent of writing a full report. I have found DMT glass vape setups (such as a The Machine) awkward to handle when intoxicated on ketamine. Changa has been by far my most memorable way to experience the combination of DMT and ketamine. My past dozen or more DMT experiences have been using a digital volcano vaporizer. I use this in the experience described below as well and found it very manageable and effective. I did retrofit the Volcano with an oversized bag to minimize the number of “bag refills” required. The Volcano was set at 426 Fahrenheit degrees.

Tolerance was a complete non factor on the day of the experience.



T + 00:00 [6:38 PM]
I generally like to dip my toe in the water before I continue with medium or high dosages of ketamine. I find this allows me to mentally adjust and become comfortable with the movement into a different mental space. Correspondingly, I begin the evening with the preparation and insufflation of 35 mg of racemic ketamine. There is almost no sting in my nostril but as I begin to prepare my DMT dosage a tangy chemical flavor makes its way to my palate via the slow but steady drip that has developed after a few minutes.

I have prepped the “material chamber” of the Volcano with a new metal pad. On this surface I deposit a freshly weighed 31 mg of DMT. I have not crushed or processed the material in any way as it is relatively fine already. Normally I aim to conserve energy whenever possible, but tonight I give myself the leniency of preheating the volcano to 426 Fahrenheit degrees and maintain this temperature. I want the DMT dosage available whenever the time feels right.

T + 00:16 [6:54 PM]
I have reached a ± on the Shulgin Rating Scale. Things seem a little surreal. The differentiation from sober is not obvious, and yet it is: my normal thought process is simplifying and I feel a release of tension from my mind. A slight misstep cues me into the first sign of physical inebriation.

T + 00:21 [6:59 PM]
There are no significant fine motor skill issues while I weigh, crush, and insufflate 96 mg of ketamine. This is a large step up in dosage for me: I anticipate this taking me deep into the terrain of the land of dissociation. I won’t be far from a k-hole once this kicks in.

T + 00:36 [7:14 PM]
Things are developing. The drip in the back of my throat is slightly anesthetic and certainly has the familiar cool and chemically flavor of ketamine. I flush my nostril by insufflating a small amount of water from a cupped hand underneath the kitchen faucet. The effect of this is profound and rapid. My head swells, then retracts: there is a moment of dizziness. I decide to sit on the floor, amongst the pillows and blankets, in hopes of allowing a smooth entrance to the experience.

Things are growing increasingly foreign. I have stopped thinking about the upcoming DMT. Even with this looming in the near future, I can’t really be bothered with thoughts and concerns for the future. I’m swept up in the calming but increasingly strong mental waves of dissociation.

T + 00:43 [7:21 PM]
Visual static creeps in from the peripheral of my vision until it is present on everything, even objects in my direct focus.
Visual static creeps in from the peripheral of my vision until it is present on everything, even objects in my direct focus.
While retrieving a glass of water I giggle at my inability to land the water from the faucet into the glass on the first try. I don’t wipe up my small spill. Instead I mechanically walk back to Bodhi and Iroh with the giggle transforming to a grin. The numbness in my legs makes walking feel foreign. Although unfamiliar, I enjoy the way that I am forced to pay attention to the action of raising and lowering each leg as I walk. I’m especially aware of how my body connects to itself. Normally I think of walking in regards to my feet doing all the work. Now however, strides are felt in the originating muscles: my hips, quadriceps and glutes.

After reaching my destination I close my eyes as a way to check my condition. Within a second, vivid cartoons of random animals backed by rotating geometrical patterns spring to life across my entire minds eye. The visions come of rapidly, brightness of colors, and the calmness. As a set, these are a sign that I am tripping heavily. I’ve done as planned; gone deep into the land of dissociation.

The effects continue to rise but I have the feeling that I am nearing a peak and plateau. Nothing from my measurable senses alludes to this. It is an instinctual notion, likely due to my familiarity with my body and how it reacts to this substance.

T + 00:53 [7:31 PM]
I am past a solid ++ on the Shulgin Rating Scale. This is about the point in the experience that I anticipated introducing tryptamines to my system. My environment is comfortable and I feel ready. The familiar butterflies flap their wings in my stomach as I make my way to the floor in front of the couch. I rearrange a few pillows so I can lie backwards and be supported in a relatively upright and comfortable position if necessary. I always have nerves before I smoke DMT and this evening is no different. The ketamine does not suppress these feelings.

My fine motor skills are notably impaired as I place the Volcano housing onto the base, without the bag attached. I turn on the air flow and watch the machine. I am waiting to see the first wisps of smoke emerge. This method is intended to provide the most concentrated smoke possible by not filling the bag with forced air before the crystal material begins to vaporize.

After about three seconds the slightest swirls of white smoke emerge from the base. I immediately connect the bag and watch milky white smoke fill the plastic receptacle. The bag crinkles loudly as I stare at it with intensity. I am acutely aware of the severity of my next few breaths.

T + 00:53:04 [7:31 PM]
With the bag at maximum capacity; the time has come. I give myself one last deep breath then raise the bag to my mouth. I inhale slowly and deeply. I draw in breath until my lungs are stuffed full. I count to ten using my fingers to help me be honest and accurate. The smoke is arid, drying out my insides. This aligns with the smell of the substance: pungent and singeing, reminding me of a cross between the scent of opening a new can of tennis balls and the stench of burning plastic. I exhale without significant irritation in my throat.

T + 00:53:14 [7:31 PM]
I exhale the first hit. Already I feel the my head become light and its interior begin to swell and stretch. A gentle, low pitched, tinnitus type hum resonates through my eardrums.

I am completely focused on the smoking process. Suddenly the well rehearsed process of breathing in, holding the smoke, then breathing out seems complicated.
Suddenly the well rehearsed process of breathing in, holding the smoke, then breathing out seems complicated.
I forge ahead with another large inhale, this one slightly less deep than the first.

I feel as though every cell in my body is vibrating in harmonious agreement and grand crescendo. My body continues to sing vibrations outwards into the world. My mind, personality, being, essence, whatever one wants to call the thing people reference as “I”, begins a process of simplification. There is no feeling of movement: I am increasingly grounded and stationary with each passing second.

T + 00:53:28 [7:31 PM]
I exhale without checking my fingers for the ten second count. It just seems like time to breath some air again. After a few deep breaths, I raise the bag to my lips once again.

All of the colors in my vision are saturated. Besides being more intense than usual, their intensity pulses slightly. Where colors clash, at the edges of objects, there is a bold black line that encases a finer white line. This accentuates everything I see and makes an environment I am very familiar with seem new and unusual.

Normally this level of visuals, and the speed at which I am moving away from sobriety, would make me think about pausing my DMT intake. I seem to have an easier time accepting the change in headspace while departing from a ++ condition (from the ketamine) than from a sober baseline.

Counting is difficult. My arms droop from my crossed legs to the floor. I direct my gaze to my fingers to see if they can help me achieve my one through ten. Looking down, I am shook by the lack of depth perception. My veins are visible on the surface of my arms. They are also on the floor? Wait, I’m confused, I can’t see where my arms end and the rug begins. I almost can’t reconcile what I’m seeing. My hands, which I know to exist in the space I am looking at, are simply not registering with my mind. There are patterns moving across everything. My focus zooms in slightly before immediately retreating. This all couples with the breathing, slight rising and falling, that is occurring in the “rug arms” area of my vision. The end result is me giving up on trying to count with my fingers because they don’t seem to exist anywhere in my visual field.

Suddenly things reverse; my hands and arms pop off the suddenly 2-D background. They look like the vision tests that optometrists give using the cards and glasses to check depth perception and color blindness. My arms stand out in a goofy, almost synthetic manner like early 3-D movies. My skin looks sickly; blotchy, with patches of various tan colors shifting around. My vision zooms in on them, or they breath upwards towards me, I can’t tell which. The sensation is like I am opening my eyes as wide as possible while intently focusing on my arm as I lower my head closer to my skin. I know my head is not actually moving, the effect is only happening within my mind.

The whine of my tinnitus cranks higher and louder. I have some slight trepidation about how intense this might get. I consciously tell myself that now is the point to begin letting go and giving into the experience that I have brought upon myself. Holding on here could cause things to go drastically awry.

My eyes are closed as I inhale and hold in the last of the smoke contained in the bag. I am no longer actively counting the seconds but I am dialed into the passage of time. I’ll know when to exhale.

T + 00:54:44 [7:32 PM]
The time arrives and I open my eyes as I blow outwards. Expecting the world to be breaking apart into brightly colored fractals and patterns, I am taken aback at the relatively benign version of reality I find in front of me.

I am beyond the physical and mental capability of re-filling the bag to see if any of my dosage remains unvaporized. Iroh takes over the process and decides to leave me undisturbed as the re-filled bag is nearly 100% clear (meaning I received the entirety of the desired dosage).

I don’t slump back into my pillows as I expected. The atomic vibration going on inside me slows rapidly. I have no desire to move my gaze around the room. This journey is for me, very internal; I forget Iroh and Bodhi are here with me. My mind is separating from the room. It is also branching away from its typical one-pieced existence. I do a mental scan to check my condition. Well, I tried to do so anyways. About halfway through asking myself “How are you doing Anatoli? Anything to be concerned about?” The thought dissipates. I’m no longer thinking or capable of thinking in a standard manner. I’m 100% a spectator in the increasingly foreign space I exist in.

My mind, like my body, is eerily still; devoid of all movement. There is none of the mental hyperspace travel that I typically associate with entry to a DMT experience.

I had intentions to keep my eyes open as long as possible to enjoy and document the visuals brought on by the substances. As is typical for me however, I feel most comfortable with my eyes closed as the tryptamine comes on. My brain tingles and an infinitely complex maze of mental pathways spark to life with electrical zips, crackles, and pops.

T + 00:55:15 [7:33 PM]
I’m no longer in the sober body or mind of Anatoli Smorin. I’m seated on my pillows, eyes open now, staring blankly into the kitchen. Perspective, angles, size, and comprehension are distorting massively. I am processing the objects in the room in a minimalist fashion that is absolute in its simplicity. My thoughts flow:

Stove. That is a stove.
Cabinet. Those things are cabinets.
Dishwasher. That is a dishwasher.
Stool. That is a stool.
Why are the counters crooked?
How is the dishwasher taller than the counters that sit on top of it?

I ponder similar questions as the items in my kitchen continues to change size. I never see them change, there is no shrinking, growing, or breathing. The objects seem to change shape while my mind focuses on other pieces of my vision. Only when I pass visual focus over them again am I able to see that they have shrunk or grown.

The air is charged with a sort of electricity; my vision is crunchy and unsaturated. The visual static begins to fizzle and crackle. It as if the central point of my visual field is the starting point for Picasso and he has chosen to move outward from this point of origin, pushing my vision into small rectangular smudges (each roughly 2-4 inches in size). The abstract adjustment to my visual field mimics but distorts what I know is in front of my eyes. The oven is overtaken by silver and black squares, the floor and cabinets become brown and tan squares. Each square has the texture of thick acrylic paint that has been moved roughly across canvas with a thick brush, distinguishable from its neighbor by the patterning that results from the direction of the brush stroke. About half of my vision has transitioned from “reality” and the objects I know are in the room, to the imprecise pointillistic square smudges. The square shapes begin relatively abstract but they are rapidly morphing into increasingly perfect angular square shapes. At the beginning of this visual display, it was distinctly tryptamine in nature. As it develops, the characteristics seem to draw from the ketamine more.

Bright matte white lines, seemingly their own light source, appear out of thin air. They begin to wrap around the outlines of the tiny squares that have blotched up my vision. The shapes are perfectly geometrically aligned now and the white strings of light double back on themselves, creating cubes in the place of squares. The cubes sync into formation, taking the shape of an ocean wave. Even in my intoxicated condition I realize the true phenomenality of this “visual”.

The wave curves smoothly, a full three dimensional demonstration of oceanic shape swirling through the air in my kitchen. After rolling forwards, reaching though the air towards me, the wave crests, breaks, and shatters into small cubes that rattle geometrically through the air. The luminous lines collide and overlap. Smaller cubes are created in the turmoil. They then tumble in their own directions, spinning as they go. As with normal waves, some parts of the spray are more turbulent than others. These areas become brilliantly complex, infinite patterns crisscrossing in all three dimensions.

The crashing wave has run its course. Some boxes disappear while others slow their tumbling and spinning but remain slowly drifting in the air. The white lines become very bright. I can focus on nothing but them and their compounding intensity, their glow surging stronger and stronger like a neon light on the fritz. With a final culmination; flash! Brilliant white light overtakes my entire visual field. The white is brightest in the center and darkens gradually towards the edges of my vision. The dominant white fades over a period of about a second and a half. Although the room has not changed, in the wake of the completely unpigmented moment, it feels like I am viewing it for the first time. It is fresh, new, and unfamiliar.

The entire wave visual last perhaps 4-6 seconds. Although this is a short period of time, I was able to comprehend and retain an unbelievable amount of detail.

Sound returns to my ears slowly. The dazzling display has been silent. My attention has been 100% on the witnessing and interpretation of the things I have been witnessing. A gentle murmur eases me back into awareness of a low level ringing tinnitus.

T + 01:01:15 [7:39 PM]
I have been entirely stoic since setting down the volcano bag. I break the stillness with a small smile and turn of the head. I am able to formulate thoughts now. I begin to think of how to describe what just happened. I don’t write any notes, or speak anything to assist myself via audio recording. Sometimes I am afraid during an experience that I will forget the details, feelings, or sensations. In this moment however, I know there will not be a problem with recall. This is a calming thought that allows me to not fight to stay connected to any sort of “reality” or commit things to memory.

I am still at a +++ level on the Shulgin rating scale at this point and have been for a few minutes. The visuals are immersive and intensive enough to justify this rating.

My gaze stays attracted to the kitchen. There is less shapeshifting trickery in my visual field now. Instead there is an interaction happening between my thoughts and specific items in front of me. I can see the entirety of the room in focus, but all my attention is centered on just two objects. I have no choice in the matter, my focus and thoughts are drawn directly to the legs of a stool about ten feet in front of me as well as to the stove once again, which sits about twenty feet from me.

The choice objects shine and shimmer, almost highlighted; brighter than anything else. Besides this glow, some relatively mellow visual static, and increased saturation the stove and stool look pretty normal. At this point the Ketamine seems to be controlling the visuals.
At this point the Ketamine seems to be controlling the visuals.
There is almost no patterning in my vision, something I typically get on any dosage of DMT. I can, feel the presence of the DMT in my thoughts and physical brain. A pleasant pressure works from the surface of my skull downwards into my the center of my brain. My braincase sizzles. This sensation is more enjoyable than similar feelings during my average DMT-only experiences (not combination experiences) due to the fact that the sizzling brain matter is steeped in the swirling sedation brought on by the ketamine.

I have cognizant thoughts:

Why are these items (stool and stove) so important?

Are they significant or just visually stimulating?

Am I looking too far into this? Maybe I’m just high?

This type of basic analysis is happening in my mind. At the same time however, I feel like it is not really “me” having these thoughts because I also am dedicating 100% of my attention to soaking in what my eyes are witnessing. Additionally, I have an internal dialogue: a running manuscript of what I will later write in my report. On top of all these trains of thought, I am somehow comprehending the division itself of my being into multiple points of view.

I have been existing in multiple pieces for a few minutes at least now, but I am finally realizing the reality splitting for what it truly is; multiple perspectives being perceived simultaneously in equal detail and functionality. I feel like the sun is rising for the first time in my world . . . as though I have figured out something completely revolutionary and amazing. The cut and dry logical thought processing from the ketamine seems to be joined flawlessly with the other-worldly, enlightened, and shimmering mental condition of the DMT. I am holding onto the rapid thoughts much better than I would on DMT alone. Sometimes thoughts and visions fly past in incomprehensible randomness at breakneck speed, like a deck of cards being shuffled. Tonight, my mental deck of cards is in the hands of a magician rather than a casino dealer.

The following slices of reality are processed and felt at the same exact time. Sometimes In normal life I find myself multi-tasking; thinking about one subject while performing another task. In my current state, none of the variations of reality take even a slight backseat as would normally be the case. I seem to possess extra mental capacity allowing faster processing of my multiple minds.

My minds:

1. The actual visual field in front of me (what I am physically seeing)

2. The mental activity that is wondering: “why does this stool and stove stand out”

3. How am I going to describe the separation of these “versions of my mind” to others after the experience?

4. A stream of thought trying to process the idea of these multiple realities

5. ?

The open eyed visuals are beginning to change, the stool and stove become less important. My eyes are closing slowly. Before they shut my vision goes through some reformatting. Everything fades to completely black over about a second I know my eyes are still open, as I can feel them physically in such a position. In my black field of vision a singular point of white light appears. The shape is drawn from a single dot in the darkness that seems to be roughly ten feet from me. The speck of glistening white grows and stretches, bending until it returns to itself and forms an absolutely perfect square.

The lonely square sprouts an offshoot from the upper left corner, which develops into a second square. This second square shoots out a white line from each of its upper corners and these both become squares of their own. Rinse, repeat. Rapidly multiplying squares shower my vision as they explode in every direction: left, right, up, down, and then suddenly backwards and forwards; erupting into three dimensions.

All of this occurs, initiation to culmination, in the last few seconds it takes for my eyelids to shut completely. My multitude of mindspaces is beginning to dwindle.

The mind that is thinking about report writing makes a note that I don’t have any sensations in my body. I can register that it is still seated in the position I last remember it being after my final exhale of DMT. There is a slight vibration happening where my flesh touches the ground but this is barely detectable. I am separated from my flesh carriage. My body is not playing an important role in the experience at this point.

As my eyelids fall completely shut I see utter blackness that lacks any definable depth. There is not a sense of the darkness enclosing me in a claustrophobic way, like can happen to me in floatation tanks or in actually enclosed spaces such as an MRI machine. There is no infinite depth either, no sense of a galaxy expanding outwards in front of me.

I see the outline of a bone. Perhaps a femur? It is very generic, like a halloween costume. The outline is a dull white. Similar in intensity but drastically less shimmering than the wave of cubes. The single bone bursts upwards and leftwards, multiplying as it moves across the darkness. The effect is very similar to the deck of cards that repeatedly bounces downward after winning solitaire on an old computer. The bones move at about half that pace however. I register perhaps twenty duplicates that move in a singular arc. After roughly three seconds they transform. The bones skip from an old school computer graphic to something beyond today’s most advanced visual technology. Each of the twenty odd shapes break out into three dimensions. In a split second a simplistic series of lines generates an incomprehensible number of coordinated objects, like a flock of sparrows or school of fish, moving in a way that makes the group of individuals appear to be a single item. The crowd expands in each cardinal direction. While the sheer mass and complexity boggles my mind, the section of the group that is shooting towards me holds my attention more than any other. The shapes remain 2-D despite their worldly movement. The result is like an infinite mirrors display that allows the white lines to overlap with their predecessors. Each outlines reaches closer and closer to me until all I can see is black and white; singular bones, intersections, negative space, series of shapes – all of these hold my attention, utilizing my multiple mind capabilities seemingly, at the same time. Patterns, abstract forms, and the original multiplied bone design are all mentally ingested at once.

The riot of shapes lasts about two seconds in my own interpretation of time. An impossibly short amount of time to have taken in the amount of detail I did. I have the sensation of lapsing out of time and consciousness. This comes to me as it might when I emerge from hypnopompia after an alcoholic blackout. Rather than time being stretched out, I seem to have been disconnected from it entirely. I am roused from the trance I didn’t know I had fallen into by a repetitive mechanical clicking sound.

Each clicky noise is tied, connected by my brain somehow, to stubby bone shapes that are now raining down around me. The two dimensional outlines no longer have a source. They drop from above, and fall to below. No pile is formed on the ground. Instead they pass through the bottom of my visual field. The white shapes that are closest to me are much smaller than I those seen from far away. The ones falling directly around me are tiny: the size of raindrops. I can feel these, like small in pinpricks as each bone contacts my body. Each produces a sound like a peaceful typewriter being plinked in an adjourning room. Both the sound and the physical sensation is pleasurable: relaxing and natural.

While the bones rain down, my point of view is an odd mix of first person and just out of body. I see a very realistic rendition of myself seated in the exact position I truly am. So vivid was this visualization, I thought for a moment my eyes were back open. I am not watching from above, but rather from about a foot above my right shoulder. Most of what I see is parts of my body that would be in view from a first person angle. I can also see my upper back and a small bit of my neck and head. The ability to see these cue me into the fact that I’m still in a closed eyed visual world.

The visual effects feel very much so like a blending of the two chemicals I have taken. The precision in the details feels like DMT but the colorlessness and static movement seems to draw from the ketamine.

My mental space feels expanded. I’m transcending above my point of view, seeing the room from higher than my seated position. It is proving difficult to pay attention to anything except the visuals and turning away is next to impossible; I’m transfixed.

The bones swirl in a circle hung vertically in the air so that I stare through the center like the letter “O”. Their pattern of motion is slow and smooth. I can see the “normal” kitchen on either side of the psychedelic shapes, and even through the center of them. The bones go slower, slower, slower; and finally pause in midair. Things crank back into gear in the reverse direction and then rapidly accelerate. Suddenly the rotating circle splits into four circles, each angling more forward than the next. The result is a spinning (as a unit) and rotating (as individual lines) three dimensional orb made of the tiny bones. This lasts just a split second before the shape collapses onto itself. The four circles realign but are now spinning splat, like a frisbee. Things are chaotic, the flat white color is developing into a shimmering display. This fizzles and peters out in an anticlimactic finish. I can sense this moment of coming to an end.

I can feel the tryptamine taking over the dissociative, which has been slightly dominant for the immediately previous section of time. The DMT produces a glowing calmness that is almost tangible. A sense of awareness of and connectedness to the world. There is no visual representation of these feelings, but it is as though the air is saturated with these notions and they absorb into me before exiting out, cycling the energies back into the world.

I physically feel grounded, like an energy (source unknown) is keeping my physical body very upright. I’m still seated in the same spot but the supernatural energy has drawn me upright, making my spine straight and drawing my shoulders back. I’m very still both externally and internally. There is no pulling or pushing, whirling or swirling, like I have experienced on heavy dosages of ketamine in the past.

T + 01:12:17 [7:50 PM]
I feel myself integrate into the room that I departed when I inhaled the DMT. A bit of normalcy makes its way back into my mind. My visual perspective is back to normal, the special “viewpoint” is dwindling. I am viewing the world from my own eyes and location in space once again. The separate existences begin to come together. The four distinct trains of thought still exist, but I find myself cycling through them rather than maintaining each at the same time.

I drop from a +++ to a + extremely quickly. Perhaps I’m slightly above a +, but in comparison to the peak, I feel drastically more sober. This come down takes just shy of five minutes. I start being able speak and take a stab at explaining what happened to Bodhi and Iroh. My mind feels simplistic and I stutter with some “umm’s” and “like’s” as I attempt to convey some of the visuals and the multiple mental spaces I have just had the pleasure of enjoying.

T + 01:17 [7:55 PM]
The strands of time begin to weave into a more recognizable tapestry. The past fifteen minutes or so felt more like an hour. At the same time, the peak of the experience seemed to transcend time: it had an immeasurable quality about it. It felt as though time slowed down gradually as the ketamine worked its way into my system until about two minutes after the DMT was smoked. At this point, I popped out of the time continuum, disconnected from ideas of “short” or “long”. I only recognize the time stretch now, from a perspective much closer to baseline that can comprehend the concepts of seconds, minutes, and hours.

Conversation becomes sparse. Bodhi is preparing for a full tilt DMT experience with slow yogic breathing. Iroh and I respect and contribute to the silence, happy to share a smile and nod before shutting our eyes and lying back.

The visuals on my eyelids are much less immersive at this point but I still have the ability to make them my reality with minimal effort. Instead of watching them like images on a screen, I drift through them as a weightless entity; nothing more than a point of view. There is only faint sensations of movement as I navigate. I have some directional control to my movement but less so than in past strong dissociative experiences.

The landscape I drift through is unspecific and simple. A mess of layered clouds laggardly rearrange themselves on all sides of me. I drift casually, as though on calm waters, but the surroundings are giant and rough, like a storming sea. The clouds around me are deep and saturated; burgundy and black, the colors melting and swirling unhurriedly into one another.

I open my eyes and the change in scenery is startling. I feel the influence of the ketamine almost exclusively. Choppy thought patterns encourage me to think less. The numbness that encompasses my body is pleasant enough to sit in silence and enjoy. As I become more comfortable with my eyes open, adjusting to this reality, I realize once again that there are other people in the room.

T + 01:25 [8:03 PM]
I take a minute to write some notes in my notebook. My handwriting is complete chicken scratch. Feeling the need for water as well as urination, I stand for the first time. I do so slowly, and avoid any major wobbling or stumbling on my way to achieve these two activities.

Water is completely divine. My dry mouth has been secretly craving hydration apparently. The bathroom is uneventful, but something about the smaller space and harsher lighting makes me feel more intoxicated. The texture on the walls shifts when I direct my gaze to it. Slowly the lines of plaster wiggle around, snaking and sneaking their way into new patterns and formations. I don’t find this amusing or fun . . . I shudder to my core, the irrational fear of tripping too hard grips me tightly. I wash my hands and dart back to join my friends. As soon as I cross the threshold into the living room, the negative feelings dissipate.

Our group tone is relatively serious. Although I feel I have made it through the part of my evening that was potentially challenging, Bodhi is just beginning his.

We all settle into our spots on the floor and I handle the Volcano and scale. Dexterity is slightly impaired, but several well practiced taps with the index finger of my right hand deliver the desired mg onto the tray of the scale.

My vision has a fair amount of visual static, my most frequently repeated visual across all of my substance experiences. Currently, black and white dots about the size of American dimes dance, shimmering and glimmering. The static is most obvious in the corners of my vision but a more delicate veil of the flickering black and white lays on top of everything in my sight.

T + 01:47 [8:25 PM]
The crinkling of the Volcano bag is comically loud; what a sound! The seriousness evaporates from the room as the three of us exchange some quick jokes. Somehow the comical name “Chris Crinkle” develops as a play on Kris Kringle. The three of us are overtaken entirely by uncontrollable giggles.

The laughs are cut short as the pitch of the crinkling grows higher and the frequency more rapid. The bag is full.

As I help Bodhi count the length of each breath I feel myself drawing closer to a sober baseline. I have no issues writing out timestamps and notes of Bodhi’s body position along with other potentially noteworthy observations.

T + 02+00 [8:38PM]
I don’t have any issues concentrating on note taking for the duration of Bodhi’s experience. Now that he is “back” and beginning a quick yoga practice, I feel myself become more at ease. We have all survived our peaks! I retrieve a cold beer [4.6% ABV] from the refrigerator and it tastes especially wonderful. Like a beer at the culmination of a hard day of physical activity; this tastes earned.

T + 02:19 [8:57 PM]
I have my second beer [4.6% ABV] as Bodhi, Iroh, and I begin to discuss what we went through for the past few hours [Not previously mentioned: Iroh has been dabbling in ketamine and a few light hits of DMT]. Thoughts are now forming in an increasingly normal fashion. The more the conversation develops and spins off into random sidebars, the easier it is to forget I am coming down from anything. Some minor tinnitus adds a layer of sound to the background, in addition to the mellow lo-fi music we have selected. A natural but powerful sense of belonging to this exact space and time saturates all other emotions and coats every thought.
A natural but powerful sense of belonging to this exact space and time saturates all other emotions and coats every thought.
From previous experiences I can confidently say that this is result of the ketamine trailing away, leaving me with the afterglow of the DMT. This glow is usually relatively strong until I go through a full night's sleep and sometimes, depending on the content and intensity of the experience, can linger for days afterwards. I couldn’t be happier to sip my beer, bask in this glow, and spend time with friends.




Additional Commentary:

This was a solid, enjoyable, positive experience. The visual effects were nothing short of spectacular. Some of the white outline visuals felt very much like a strong closed eyed visual induced from ketamine. The bones and cubes were minimalistic yet sophisticated and were highly integrated with “reality”: visible with my eyes open, in my kitchen. Some of the things I saw appeared more as items in this physical world than as a “visual” - they were very real. Unique, strong, and immersive visuals: everything I was hoping for from this combination of substances.

The two substances played very well together. Using the Volcano did away with my number one complaint about combining DMT with other substances. This being the difficulty of using an open flame and glass pipe or device while already heavily under the influence of a substance. I found the transition into a deep DMT space less jarring and difficult when the take-off occurred from a ++ dissociative condition. I was calmer, less concerned with the potential of a bad time, and as a result, able to soak in the entirety of the experience. I have used alcohol, benzodiazepines, opioids, and opiates as launchpads for DMT in the past to try and ease this transition. Separately from these, I have combined DMT with other psychedelics with the goal of exploring different visual and mental places. This is the only substance thus far that has performed both the function of synergizing with the DMT for a unique set of effects as well as easing the entrance to the experience [I suspect other dissociatives would work in a similar manner].

The comedown from the combination was enjoyable. That being said, I usually don’t mind the comedown process when using either ketamine or DMT on their own, so I wasn’t particularly surprised to find this true for the combination.

I did think it was noteworthy how short the overall duration was. An hour after smoking the DMT I felt there was nothing I documented worth sharing. The lingering effects blended into the few beers I drank. I achieved a ± condition by T + 03:47 [10:25 PM]. I don’t think I reached a true baseline (to a -) until the next day. Even then, there was the mysterious glow that created a little extra sparkle in my existence.

My immediate reaction to the experience was not one of emotional or mental growth. There was certainly some internal analysis pertaining to “how and why” my mind separated into multiple thought processing segments. Mostly, I was impressed with the refreshing afterglow that radiated through me for the remainder of the evening after the last timestamp included in the report.

As I ruminated on the experience, I was able to theorize some interesting parallels between the multiple mental computing spaces and my daily sober mind. I don’t think the details will be generally useful to anyone besides myself so I’ll spare that detail. The most useful of these thoughts were centered around the analysis of my general day to day indecisiveness and anxiety, and how they were similar to my multiple simultaneous perceptions. I found both positives and negatives in this aspect of my personality. The concept of being actively aware of these potential overthinking "moments" or "habits" and the related difficulties while they occur was profound and useful.

A general happiness about life and appreciation for my position in it was the most obvious lasting effect from the experience. It weened from a + intensity immediately following my last timestamp to barely perceptible two days later. At this point the effect came and went, but was not particularly intoxicating. It was almost indistinguishable from a boost in mood due to something as simple as a moment of sun at the end of a rainy day.

At no point during the experience did I feel the presence of entities (any sort of otherworldly being). In standard DMT verbiage, I certainly peaked short of a “breakthrough” experience.

In a similar comparison, I did not “hole”, which common nomenclature refers to as having out of body experiences on dissociative substances. There was no feeling of sinking away from the world, or motion at all for that matter. I stayed more present and “first person” than other strong ketamine experiences I have had in my past.

I had an interesting alteration in the way I processed time and existed within it during the peak of this experience. It was not simply that I looked at a clock twice and the second time thought "wow it seems longer than that". This was no simple linear stretching of time. I was having rapid thoughts; far faster than I do sober. Faster than most stimulants make me process ideas. This was blindingly fast. Unlike the fast visions and thoughts I often have on DMT alone, I was able to process things at the speed they occurred.
Unlike the fast visions and thoughts I often have on DMT alone, I was able to process things at the speed they occurred.
Normally I would be left in the dust by the tryptamine's blazing speed. It didn’t feel as dizzyingly quick because my processing speed was just as rapid. I stand on the earth while it hurtles through space at great velocity, but it doesn’t feel as though I myself am moving fast. That is how my thinking felt: I knew it was occurring at a tremendous pace, but because I was keeping up everything felt more manageable. Despite keeping up, I was still aware of the lightning pace, certainly more so than I am conscious of my speed traveling through space on a daily basis. The truly amazing bit was that I kept up with multiple versions of ultra expeditious trains of thought all at the same time. I also retained memory of many of these thoughts and visuals in such detail that I was able to document them in the hours following their occurrence. This is not always possible for me.

The experience was powerful enough to make me want to repeat it. To push things further even. But also, it was intimidating enough that despite my excitement about the combination, it took me several months to put ketamine and DMT together again (even then it was at lower dosages of both substances). I’m sure the time will come to let one of these substances (or both at once if I can achieve perfect timing) take me to its terminal intensity. When that moment arrives, I’m sure I’ll know – and I look forward to it.


Exp Year: 2019ExpID: 113441
Gender: Male 
Age at time of experience: 29 
Published: Aug 2, 2019Views: 2,956
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DMT (18), Ketamine (31) : Small Group (2-9) (17), Personal Preparation (45), Combinations (3)

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