Citation: Anatoli Smorin. "Peace at Last, Happy as Myself: An Experience with Heroin, Alcohol & Cannabis (exp114942)". Erowid.org. Nov 26, 2020. erowid.org/exp/114942
As a substance experimenter, I would describe myself as significantly versed. Iíve spent more than ten years demoing a long list of stimulants, opioids, opiates, dissociatives, phenethylamines, tryptamines, etc.
My history with opioids and opiates is reasonably extensive. Iíve dabbled with a fair share of pharmaceuticals and clandestine productions, via just about every route of administration possible. In the past, I did develop a tolerance to this category of substance, but outside of that particular stretch of time, my use has been relatively infrequent.
The intention for this experience was based in hedonism. I wanted to enjoy a day off, one of my first in a long while, by adding an extra layer of laziness, euphoria, and relaxation.
My setting for the day was my home, a modest timber house high up in the mountains. My only company for the experience was my two dogs; Doc and Gee.
I had no tolerance to any of the substances ingested besides alcohol. An average day around the time this experience took place includes 3-5 drinks in the evenings. I also take vitamin D3 and mesalamine, daily, for a lifelong stomach condition. I do not believe any of these substances affected the experience. I smoke cannabis 2-3 days per week, I donít find any notable tolerance as compared to when I take a month off.
The substance used in this experience was procured from a vetted source. No red flags were raised when I conducted some basic reagent testing. I believe the substance to be pure and true. Prior to this experience, I had insufflated two small ďsafety testĒ doses of 2 and 5 milligrams. The idea behind these was to gauge the potency of this batch of material. My findings on these initial trials led me to believe the dosages in this experience would be both sufficient to produce the desired effects as well as within my margin of safety.
Another part of my safety calculations was the addition of alcohol. Iím well aware that mixing CNS depressants can be tricky and risky business, especially opiates/opioids and alcohol. I personally felt comfortable with my dosages from prior experience and attentive monitoring of my heart rate and general physical condition. In the case of an absolute emergency, I had my partner Kai available to come to the rescue.
The material consisted of small [< ~ 2.5 millimeters diameter] light tan crystals, about the size of sand, with some larger pieces mixed in, which were more like sea salt. The substance was the hydrochloride version, commonly referred to as heroin #4. When crushed up, the crystals easily transformed to a fine powder that was similar in color, perhaps a bit lighter than the crystalline material looked.
All of the dosages in the report below were prepared using a freshly calibrated milligram scale.
To write this report I used extensive written notes in addition to some live voice recordings. I am confident that the time stamps are accurate.
The last food I ate before the initial ingestion of heroin was a light chicken and pasta dish at about T Ė 14:30.
T + 00:00 [10:00 AM]
Without much ceremony I finish crushing up seven milligrams of material until Iím left with a fine light tan powder. Insufflation is painless and mostly flavorless; unsurprising for this substance at this dosage. Immediately upon insufflation there is nothing noteworthy going on. In the absence of initial effects to document, I use the time to walk down to the basement to retrieve a load of firewood for use in the living room.
T + 00:09 [10:09 AM]
Returning upstairs, I find that Iím warm, with a hint of sweat on brow. The wood I hauled isn't heavy enough to cause this physical reaction when compared to a sober state. The extra sweating is of no concern to me. Iím far more concerned with staring out the windows into the beautiful autumn skies. Beams of sun pierce the murky grey clouds that have blanketed the sky all morning. The warmth on my face is completely blissful.
T + 00:11 [10:11 AM]
A heaviness works its way from the top of my eyelids to the tips of my eyelashes. A knowing dopey smile crawls across my face as I sink a little deeper into the couch, increasingly immersed in the present. The podcast I had tuned out is suddenly more relatable and interesting.
The chill I felt earlier, with the temperature at 61 degrees Fahrenheit inside the house, is gone. Suddenly I feel exactly the right temperature. Itís not just the temperature though, everything is starting to feel Ďjust rightí. As the experience comes on in earnest, my thoughts slow down. I cannot, or will not, dwell on anything besides my immediate reality. Every breath in, nourishes me, every breath out, soothes me. Iíve left the normal version of the universe and entered a version my notes describe as Ďdeep breath heavení. Each breath brings a swelling rush of euphoria, pleasurable shudders that feel like each cell of my skin is taking a relaxing breath, shaking any worries and concerns.
T + 00:15 [10:15 AM]
With delight, I take my first sip of first beer for the day [4.8% ABV 12 fl. oz.]. As the cold inebriating liquid passes down my throat, I feel that all the world is beautiful and a deep love of everything saturates my brain. Everything, absolutely everything, feels so nice and good. Simplistic words, but entirely accurate. Nice, good, nice, good, and nice.
As my mind continues to alter my interpretation of the world and my life in it, Iím reminded of how I feel when a benzodiazepine relieves my stress. The effects of benzos are something I generally find pleasant and therapeutic. Although not necessarily euphoric; as a person who is sometimes burdened with anxiety, depression, or heavy thoughts, I do find benzos especially enjoyable. The heroin is providing relief from these types of thoughts, but doing so without the haze and sedation I often experience with benzo relief. This feels like Iím more clear than I am when sober.
T + 00:20 [10:20 AM]
My resting heart rate is 60 BPM. I note that the intensity of effects has been pretty steady. There have been no large peaks and valleys since I first felt the substance coming on. Although not a perfect translation, Iím accustomed to correlating intoxication to the Shulgin Rating Scale, thus, Iíd rate my current intoxication at a + intensity.
T + 00:29 [10:29 AM]
Having satiated my desire for a safe initial dosage without overwhelming myself, I insufflate an additional thirteen milligrams. Iím hoping to kick things up from this mellow intensity to something more powerful.
T + 00:32 [10:32 AM]
The ability of my eyes to focus is altered.
The ability of my eyes to focus is altered.
The amount of time required to move my eyes side to side isn't slower, similarly, the time required to change my focus from one point to another is essentially normal. There are comfortable ďspotsĒ throughout my focal realm; hotspots where my eyes are more comfortable resting their gaze. The location of these spots is random, without any logical pattern to their positioning, scattered around the room, wall to wall and floor to ceiling. These spots provide unusual mental comfort, but are otherwise undetectable. No alteration to my vision occurs in them. The locations also shift around; Iím unable to consistently replicate the sensation in the same locations. When I do come across one, itís like a weight coming off my shoulders that I wasnít aware existed. The only sensation I can relate this to is when I allow my eyes to unfocus while under the influence of psychedelics, to unlock more visuals. In this case Iím not letting my eyes unfocus, but the mechanism or action feels similar enough, with a pleasant buzz in my physical eyes and brain instead of increased visuals.
T + 00:33 [10:33 PM]
The insides of my shoulders are beginning to buzz and tingle. A warming pulsation that works through bone, muscle, and flesh. The combination of the heat and prickling is a well balanced physical euphoria that's accompanied by a slow and continual elevation of mood.
All ten of my fingers have developed significant tremors, which even with concentration cannot be quelled. The uncontrollable quivering affects my fingers from their tips all the way back to the knuckles closest to my hands.
T + 00:35 [10:35 AM]
I scold Doc for pestering his older sister Gee. To my surprise, my voice is not my own Ė it doesnít sound right. A quick brainstorming session does not yield any quality analogies or descriptions of how my voice is off. Conversation, via text chat on my laptop, distracts me from finding a proper description of the auditory sensation. There are no issues with the physical task of typing or my mental ability to follow somewhat complex conversation topics. Ideas flow easily, and I can tell by the way Iím phrasing my responses that Iím in an overly positive mood. This is not the blatant positivity of a stimulant, the manic ĎIím supermaní of an arylcyclohexylamine, or the abolishment of all worries of a benzodiazepine. Instead, Iím aware of everyday life, especially its troubles. Iím notably able to process how the issues affect me, and choose a more rosy reaction to them than I often do sober. While discussing financial investment ideas with one friend, Iím able to move beyond the entangling negative thoughts that often surround this topic: ďdamn this sucks, money is so tight right now, I canít buy any of the things I want . . . Ē. Iím feeling realistic, and most importantly that it is okay to have these worries
. Iím honoring the reality I live in and allowing myself to be comfortable with how I have acted in my past, am acting right now, and will act in the future. This is how I imagine the stereotypical enlightened monk feels everyday; a life of absolute zen.
Stepping away from the laptop, I decide to inspect my pupils for any size alteration. Unfortunately I donít have any accurate way of measuring their diameters. Both pupils are constricted but I wouldnít consider them to be in a state of miosis yet. My eyelids hang naturally about 25% lower than normal. I donít think I look terribly intoxicated: still appearing present and attentive. As I look into the mirror above the bathroom sink, there is still a ďmeĒ in the eyes that look back.
Sitting back down on the couch, I realize my thighs have a slow rumbling vibration that feels warm and comforting, like each follicle of hair on my thighs is getting a hug, all at the same time. This is significant and hints at the potency of this chemical. I usually donít get much body high with opiates anywhere below my waist. To have the prickling warmth flow through lower body is a real treat.
I write in my notebook that my current intoxication level is comparable to perhaps 12-17 milligrams of oxycodone if ingested orally. On the Shulgin Rating Scale I sit between a + and a ++.
T + 00:50 [10:50 PM]
I switch off the podcast, in favor of music, before tossing a few new logs onto the fire. Walking feels normal enough, but my limbs feel slightly heavy. Each stride takes a split second longer to connect with the floor than expected. This causes a sensation of being off balance Ė while at the same time, not. Moving around the room stirs up the physical sensations that are circulating from my thighs to my ankles. Being in use seems to make my muscles more sensitive to their change from baseline.
Since Iím already standing, I cruise to the refrigerator and open my second beer [4.8% ABV 12 fl. oz.].
Despite persistently drooping eyelids, I'm not sleepy. Mildly sedated? Sure. But there is no exhaustion in a ďneed to sleepĒ sense.
The soothing music that's the soundtrack to my experience is lovely enough, but not significantly enhanced. As I write this commentary down in my notebook, I realize something far more interesting Ė the music sounds normal! Performing a quick auditory scan, I find that the sounds of the crackling fire, whistling wind, and creaking trees outside are equally unaffected. ďTest testĒ I say out loud. Hmmm, everything, outside of my spoken voice, is normal sounding. The exact nature of the alteration is difficult to pin down, similar to how a recording of myself doesn't align with my internal interpretation of how I sound. Through my own ears, my voice is muted but not pitched up or down, it's distant and muddled, as though I have water lodged in both my ears.
Content with my (in)ability to describe the auditory effects, I focus on the creeping itch that has gradually been increasing on my face. I find that Iím absentmindedly dragging the fingernails of my left hand up and down the side of my face. The sensation is light and enjoyable Ė the itch not in the least bothersome yet.
T + 00:56 [10:56 AM]
I take five medium sized hits from my cannabis vaporizer pen in rapid succession. Normally this would put me around a six on a scale of one to ten; one being sober, ten being an edibles megadose. Now however, there's no ďnormal cannabis highĒ; there's some boost to the heroinís effects but not a significant amount. I estimate a five percent increase at best.
T + 00:59 [10:59 AM]
I note my resting heart rate is 66 BPM.
Despite my intent of using cannabis to intensify the experience, things seem to be settling down or even dropping in intensity since smoking. Perhaps the effects are no longer increasing
and thus it feels like Iím heading towards baseline. Time will tell.
My gut reaction is that I preferred the primary substance without the addition of cannabis. It has dirtied the experience. The clear-thinking state of peace is dissipating, infiltrated by unpleasant speculations of ďWhat should I do? Listen to music? Go outside?Ē. The cannabis clearly seems to have triggered these less than desirable thoughts.
T + 01:15 [11:15 AM]
Well, maybe I was mistaken Ė an upswing in intensity comes on swiftly. This serves as a good reminder that this substance could become very unpleasant Ė Ďtoo much of a good thing can be a terrible timeí, I remember, thinking back to previous experiences where re-dosing opiates got me into a less than pleasurable situation.
Iím stumbling sightly while walking, as if my movements are not my own; a physical version of hearing my voice that wasnít my own earlier. The decreased coordination is notable, but not severe.
A hint of hunger. Despite not eating yet today, this feels more like Ďthe munchiesí than it does my body calling out for sustenance. I crave flavor for flavor's sake; without hunger, the desire to eat hits me hard.
I cut a few slices off a leftover smoked pork tenderloin. The first bites cause my stomach to turn, maybe from the food itself, or maybe from the anxiety surrounding the idea of the heroin potentially causing stomach discomfort. Everything stays in my stomach, but the bites are not nearly as satisfying as I had hoped for.
T + 01:24 [11:24 AM]
The itching is spreading from my face up onto the top of my head. Again, I find physical and psychological pleasure from lightly scratching my face and scalp.
I have to pee, so I make my way to the closest bathroom. Despite a strong urge to urinate, I canít go. After about two minutes of concentration, Iím able to release a little bit of fluid, but it doesn't satiate the need completely. I return to the couch frustrated.
T + 01:42 [11:42 AM]
I measure out and then swiftly consume .75 fl. oz. of whiskey [40% ABV]. The taste, one Iím very familiar with, is unaltered by the heroin.
T + 01:56 [11:56 AM]
I seem to be past the peak. My initial plan was to continue re-dosing through the afternoon, but reflecting on my current condition leads me to the realization: Iím genuinely enjoying this return to baseline. There is no crash or disappointment because things are coming to an end. Everything is just nice. All different levels and types of nice. The whole world is nice. How could anyone ever not feel nice?
Every thought I have, Iím certain itís correct. There is no self doubt. My internal conversation is delightfully succinct. Iím at peace with myself. I feel no need to rush and document this experience, to distract myself with the report writing process. Iím in lockstep with the universe. This last few minutes have been my favorite part of the experience thus far. This really couldnít feel any more marvelous.
Iíll insufflate more in due time, but for now I want to soak up more of this divine decline. My current condition allows me to recognize how I feel and make concise decisions based on these feelings. This feels more like enlightenment than intoxication; remarkably enjoyable.
T + 02:00 [12:00 PM]
Finding my glass empty, I retrieve my third beer [6.3 % ABV], this time opting for a more flavorful, stronger option.
T + 02:30 [12:30 PM]
The time feels right; so I weigh out, crush up, and insufflate 16 additional milligrams. Sitting back, waiting for any hint of a drip, I idly smile as the dogs romp around. A sudden excitement rushes through me. Lately my pair of canines have been annoying me with their seemingly constant misbehavior. Today though, their boisterous, if not slightly naughty actions, aren't nearly as frustrating. It feels great to not feel bothered by them, or burdened with the duties of taking care of them by myself all day.
T + 02:40 [12:40 PM]
I open a fresh beer [6.3 % ABV] and use the first sip of it to chase .75 fl. oz. of whiskey [40% ABV]. As I check my notes, it seems that I am losing track of time a little bit. I realize I just grabbed a second glass of water, having completely forgotten I had gotten myself one a few minutes ago. In general, I have the sense that Iím beginning to slip; moving from a state in which I bask in the present moment, completely appreciating it, to one in which I am struggling to recall things just after they happen.
T + 02:47 [12:47 PM]
Anticipating a lack of motivation when this larger dosage fully sets in, I retrieve two loads of firewood from the basement. This should allow me to settle onto the couch and maintain the fire with minimal effort for a good long while.
Just as it did earlier, the small physical effort of walking the stairs leaves me significantly more winded and sweaty than I normally would be. Out of curiosity, more than concern, I take my heart rate. It is only 72 BPM, lower than I expected, especially given the fact that Iíve actually broken a sweat across my forehead, back, and armpits.
T + 02:53 [12:53 PM]
Things are ramping up significantly now. My eyes are lagging as I attempt to focus my vision. I find the strongest visual effects occur when I move my head from left to right while simultaneously moving my eyes in the opposite lateral direction. When doing this, my vision blurs slightly, like a camera unable to focus properly. After about half a second, everything snaps into focus. This isnít disagreeable, just noteworthy.
Instinctively I slowly press on my eyes, which provides me with a radiating physical bliss. At the point of contact between my fingers and eyes, a fire burns under my skin. Like a hot shower banishing cold after a long winter day spent outside, I donít want this to stop. Although there is a literal warming factor to what Iím feeling now, the shower metaphor really stands up on the fact that Iím physically relieved of an unpleasant sensation with an opposing positive one. With the heroin, itís not necessarily cold being relieved, or even anything discernible for that matter. The plain way that my body feels during everyday life is being replaced by relaxed warm vibrations; a calmness and peacefulness, somehow perceptible by my skin and muscles reaches all around and through me from head to toe. The feeling is intensified anywhere my hands move. Soon Iím massaging, pulling, and stretching the skin on my face with both my hands.
T + 03:06 [1:06 PM]
The power just went out! Iím not especially bothered by this and after checking a few light switches upstairs I make my way to the basement with a flashlight to check the circuit breaker. The trip results in a light sweat. Finding nothing tripped, I have no option but to return upstairs. Back in the living room, the fire feels like it's too hot. This seems odd since it's been left untended while I checked out the electrical issues. The thermostat says itís 66 Fahrenheit degrees inside now. It feels much warmer than this, like a sauna that has crossed over from a relaxing and soothing heat to a temperature that is becoming physically uncomfortable.
Iím calling the power company, the generic hold music drones on over speakerphone. I head to the kitchen to grab a beer. Sounds from the living room grab my attention. I spin around, thinking that the electricity is back and what Iím hearing is my laptop coming back online. I walk back to inspect the power situation and realize it's my phone, still on hold, that is making the noise. This shocks me, I had completely forgotten I had made a phone call. Setting the phone down mid-call is not a part of my memory. This alludes to my level of intoxication. I shrug off the memory lapse and soon someone picks up my call, able to inform me that the company is aware of the outage and is beginning to work on a fix.
I donít feel tired at all, but my eyelids sink lower and lower. In fact, I think they're barely open at all. Scanning the rest of my body, I see that my fingers are shaking slightly on both hands. This doesnít worry me.
T + 03:21 [1:21 PM]
Iím increasingly warm, and the light sweating that began when carrying the firewood upstairs hasnít gone away. This is uncomfortable and unenjoyable. I have a glass of water and do some deep breathing to try and move past this blip of discomfort.
T + 03:27 [1:27PM]
Wooooof, I can barely keep my eyes open. I feel the siren song of sleep and unconscious. I scribble into my notebook ďstarting to nodĒ before softly placing the pen down and laying out on the couch.
In and out, I wander through a maze of consciousness. My eyes cannot be kept open with any sort of consistency. I dip into the warm embrace of sleep for a few moments, then awaken, in a condition of utmost comfort. As this cycle of dozing off and waking up carries on, it is hard to keep track of time. Like waking up on a Sunday morning, warm and nestled in bed, a whole day of relaxation in front of me, there is nothing that could be more comfortable. There is a Croatian word; ĎFjakaí, that when translated literally, nicely captures how I currently feel. My understanding of the translation is: a relaxation of both mind and body accompanied by the delight of doing nothing.
My eyes tingle with microscopic points of pressure. Each dot quickly pulses a smooth electric heat that feels angelic. Every point of physical awareness feels like when an intense itch is scratched; relief and pleasure. Right now, there are immeasurable spots recording immeasurably luxury.
T + 04:09 [2:09 PM]
I jerk awake and this time donít immediately fall back to sleep. I sit up, check the time, and assess my condition. The sweating and discomfort are gone. Even sitting up, Iím still nodding in and out. My eyes struggle to be open at all. I jerk awake at times Ė never remaining asleep for more than a few seconds. Itís in a beautiful existence dancing on the line between awake and not.
Time is passing both fast and slow; I process it in small windows of looping thoughts and swirling pleasure. My sedated flesh and bones ring with bliss. In this more visceral sense, time is passing slowly because there are an uncountable number of these tiny cycles. Iím sucked into sleep Ė then Iím awake, ringing with euphoria accompanied by a few scrambled thoughts, before tumbling into a short rest period once again. In other ways time seems to pass quickly. During one period of awareness I get a glimpse of the time on my phone. Forty minutes has passed, despite my best estimation of perhaps twenty minutes elapsing since my previous check in.
T + 04:55 [2:55 PM]
I sit up Ė completely able to keep my eyes open without any momentary blurring of my vision and without my eyelids being pulled shut by the heroinís invisible hands.
What was I thinking about for the last hour? Iím struggling to recall specific thoughts. Itís like grasping for a dream that has escaped in the morning light; the memory of the last stretch of time is smoke in my hands.
T + 06:07 [4:07 PM]
I still feel off baseline Ė my eyes pulse with pleasure and there's a swirling sensation that still dances around in my head. The rotational pressure twirls around and around inside my skull, each orbit slightly off axis from the one before it.
As I come off the peak of the experience, Iím feeling a bit shaky, weak, and queasy. I think this is from not eating all day today. I also stopped drinking alcohol about halfway through the day, so this could be a small hangover coming on. Wobbling slightly, I walk to the kitchen. I eat an apple and drink a glass of water. This seems to revive me a bit but I still feel a little spacey, mentally removed and distant, but not necessarily dull.
T + 06:22 [4:22 PM]
Once again, I stand in front of the toilet, vexed and in discomfort as I try to urinate. No matter what I do, I canít force the process to happen. A few drops at most. As I wash my hands, I take stock of the man in the mirror. No longer do I find much response from the eyes that look back at me. ďSoberĒ is not the word Iíd use to describe my physical appearance, with its drooping eyelids and foggy eyes.
I go back to the couch, unsatisfied, still feeling like I need to pee. This is a downer on my perfect mood, but it fades away quickly, overwhelmed by the calm waves of sedation and content.
T + 07:01 [5:01 PM]
Doc and Gee are alerting me that it is time for their dinner through constant nudging and a few odd vocal noises between a whine and a bark. I laugh at the odd and desperate display from the pair, and get up to feed them. My balance seems unaffected as I navigate this task. The euphoric part of the ďhighĒ seems to be pretty well dissipated. My body is no longer tingling, glowing, or producing any internal euphoria. Mentally however, things carry on; just as I experienced earlier, the ďwind downĒ is absolutely enjoyable and productive. Being less sedated and drowsy now, I can once again tune in and give intelligent consideration to the phenomenon of being entirely, naturally, happy with myself, my day, and my existence. It is difficult to describe why not fretting, stressing, and rethinking decisions over and over again feels so great Ė given that not everyone deals with anxiety and chronic overthinking, I could see this as being a unique glowing effect for myself. This being said, I have a sense that no matter what my normal mental condition, the substance would be offering customized effects, tailored to my needs.
T + 07:34 [5:34 PM]
Iíve made myself a modest charcuterie board: a few cheeses, cured meats, and crackers. This seems like something that's nourishing, tasty, and easy enough to digest.
I do have a bit of nausea after the first few bites. Sticking to the more plain meats and cheeses allows me to get a fair amount of much needed food into me without exacerbating stomach discomfort. I drink a glass of water, and as per usual for me, I have to pee immediately after.
FUCK THIS Ė once again, urination is not possible to initiate. A few minutes of attempting allows minimal relief. Better than nothing I suppose, but Iíd love to rock a full piss at this point.
T + 08:50 [6:50 PM]
The mental serenity continues to taper off towards a mellow state of mind that feels like a baseline, but not my
baseline. My thoughts remain organized and minimal, lacking any clutter from arguing or doubting myself. It is tricky to discern if Iím still in the experience in earnest, or if this is a strong after glow. Iím probably in the middle of a very extended Ī phase of this marvelous comedown.
T + [7:24 PM]
Things continue to dwindle in intensity but not in enjoyability. There is not any noteworthy realizations or spectacular events in the last half hour or so. I have tried to pee again recently but had almost no luck. Without being too graphic, I produced a meager stream, but nothing that felt complete. Despite this, my mood is pristine.
T + [9:02 PM]
The dogs are let outside to use the bathroom. Iím happy to find that they do their business and come back inside without wandering for an unauthorized adventure. The chore of cleaning the eight muddy paws seems less taxing than it usually does.
Doc, gee, and I make our way into bed to tie down with some light ambient music. Sleep does not seem likely in the near future but I donít feel like doing much else. The change of scenery, into the large comfortable bed, is great one. Snuggling into a sea of blankets and pillows matches perfectly with my fuzzy simplistic mind. The dogs trot circles before simultaneously flopping down and groaning in comfort. I giggle at the synchronicity of their mannerisms.
T + [10:34 PM]
Iím dripping in comfort, shifting from one position to the another in the bed. I have a pillow between my legs, two more under my head, one dog at my feet, and the other tucked against my back. Like most of my mornings, I am plagued by the need to urinate paired with the overwhelming desire to not move from the bed. Eventually I know it must be done, so I disturb Doc and Gee to shimmy awkwardly out of my horizontal heaven and into the adjourning bathroom.
I can pee a little easier than I could earlier today. I still need to lean on the windowsill behind the toilet and focus on relaxation in order to achieve any success. I wash my hands feeling victorious.
T + [11:12 PM]
I anticipated sleep would take me rapidly and with a heavy hand. This has not been the case. Nodding out was like a bungee jump; sky to ground, then back again. What I'm feeling now is a miniature version of that sensation. I've begun to slip in and out of a hypnagogic state. Itís less obvious than when I was being dragged from asleep to awake midday. My state of consciousness is blurred, with some confusion between dream thought and waking thought. The dreams are lucid, and the reality, dreamy. My thoughts tangle between the two states. Dreams are simple but realistic. Their settings are almost identical to my everyday life, but as I shift to being awake, my recollection becomes immediately hazy. By the time I recognize the cloudiness to be a dream, rather than reality, any additional thoughts from my awakened mind begin to blur as I transition back into my sleeping state.
The intervals become longer and longer. I recall three or four awakenings throughout the night.
T + [05:46 AM +1] The last time I wake up, acute pain racks my lower back. This is not uncommon for me, but the early bedtime, and thus the extra time lying down, seems to have made it worse than normal.
I take a trip to the bathroom and thankfully enjoy a long pee. Knowing the back pain will return the moment I lie down, I decide to go up to the loft and stretch on a yoga mat. I feel well rested and clear minded as I do some very basic cycles of sun salutations. Focusing on slow breathing in the darkness feels healthy, natural, and refreshing.
T + 20:23 [06:23 AM]
Stretches complete, but not wanting to commit to beginning the day yet, I return to the bed. Once the blankets are pulled up to my chin once again, the sinking and surfacing cycle reignites. Now I can feel that the dives are getting shallower. My controlled thoughts penetrate further into my hypnopompic dreams than they did on the other end of the evening. I continue thinking, actively musing about the dayís tasks, only to wake up, realizing the recent thoughts have been under my control, but based in a pseudo version of reality, while I was clearly dreaming.
T + 21:10 [7:10 AM]
In bed next to Kai, Iím fully awake now. Despite the sun not coming through the windows yet, I open my eyes and no longer feel any desire to shut them again. As I begin to navigate through my habitual morning activities, showering, brushing my teeth, dressing, and logging onto my work computer, I continue to feel the glow of the previous dayís substance.
I mentioned above that I experienced a deeply pleasing salutary set of effects, particularly during the transitions down from the intensity peaks. I had approached the day with simple intentions of getting high. I just wanted to feel good and chill out. Personal growth and development were not a part of the plan whatsoever. The therapeutic outcome of the experience was seriously enjoyable, and I had several beneficial takeaways. I was reminded of how powerful it is to accept myself. Even though my life has been less stressful lately, due to a career change, the experience described above refreshed me. It showed me, once again, how happy and present it's possible to be. I felt powerful and free; capable of truly owning and honoring myself, and my existence in the universe.
The sections of the experience that were the most productive and enjoyable were the two comedowns. The times directly following the peak intensities offered me the most genuine access to my emotions that I have experienced in some time. I did feel almost exclusively positive, but I wasnít falsely elated. The clarity and honesty I was able to face myself with did have elements of sadness; recognizing that I was enjoying the way I felt so much because I donít
feel so honest and happy a lot of the time, wasn't a particularly fun thing to realize. The heroin offered me the ability to not sink into the disappointment of this realization.
Having risen out of the potential downward spiral, I was able to refocus on the positive aspects of the self reflection. I was okay being me, comfortable with my body, mind, and personality. Without a second thought I forgave myself for mistakes Iíve made, and began looking forward to the future.
With the substanceís help, I was able to own my feelings and begin to ruminate on how I can implement what I learned in my everyday life. This concept of integrating what I learned during the experience in everyday life was one of the main lingering effects. The calm comedowns, and positive feelings, continued resonating for almost two days after the experience.
The calm comedowns, and positive feelings, continued resonating for almost two days after the experience.
This mostly presented as a natural calm and collected state of mind. I was less easily frustrated and spent extra time focussing on integrating philosophical ideas into my actions. The day after this experience was an extremely positive one. I didnít have any drag or weariness from the experience. In fact, I had a bit of extra energy. I exercised and had a productive day at work without feeling burned out, which was extra impressive given that this was a Monday following a long weekend.
They day after I felt a decrease in desire to take a benzodiazepine. There was still some appetite for ingestion, but I was able to head off irritation and anxiety before these feelings became unmanageable and I felt there was no way around them without the assistance of a therapeutic substance. I didnít drink any alcohol this day either, and the eagerness to do so was drastically reduced compared to an average day.
These afterglow-infused days also carried a common theme where I was thinking about: ďHow can I be healthier and happier?Ē, ďWhat old habits of self-care could I be re-introducing?Ē, ďWhat new ones exist to be discovered?Ē. I constantly consider my desire to achieve again the balance and peace that I felt while under the influence of the heroin.
All in all, the lingering effects, especially the relaxed attitude and focus on mental health lasted two full days after the ďendĒ of the experience [T + 02:20:30]. While the afterglow was very real, I did not experience anything with more staying power than this.
Next time I will probably avoid cannabis as a contributing substance to heroin. It didnít add anything beneficial and it seemed to fuzzy up the clarity that was the highlight of the experience for me. Alcohol was a decent addition, but I think in the future I will try and minimize consumption so that I can avoid the potential nausea that can occur from the combination. Also this could help avoid the tinges of queasiness that presented in the afternoon of the experience.
The only negative aspect to the experience was the urinary retention. I have come across the inability to pee during experiences with opiates, opioids, and some dissociatives before, but I canít recall ever having such a complete inability. This was most intense during the peak of the experience, but lingered all night until I went to bed.
All in all; a pleasure-based mission that turned into a surprisingly significant self-care experience.
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