DOSE:	450 mg	oral	DXM	(liquid)
	1 hit	sublingual	LSD	(blotter / tab)
	Repeated hits	smoked	Cannabis	(flowers)

BODY WEIGHT:

140 lb

About a year and a half ago I had what was probably the most intense psychedelic experience of my life, both for me and for my two partners, one an experienced psychonaut and the other less so who for the sake of anonymity we’ll call Bodega and Shrink, respectively. If this night taught me anything it was to never, ever mix substances on the first try. Before this my experiences were for the most part a whole lot of pot, more than my fair share of acid, and a few encounters with MDMA and 2C-B. The setting would be our one bedroom apartment, which we’d turned into a cozy trip den with a sectional couch, a modest entertainment center, and along the walls a string of colorful lights and paintings from trips past.

The night had started off on a good step, moods were high and upon a quick trip to the local drug store Bodega had the idea to introduce me to his newest friend, an unassuming red bottle of cough syrup. We bought one for each of us and headed straight home, me being beyond excited to try DXM which up until now had been described to me as “like acid but drunk.” Upon arrival at home we busted out both bottles and between periods of flirting and setting out activities for the soon to be trippy evening we downed a capful each about every twenty minutes. By the time I had finished my bottle and was feeling just a little woozy I looked up from my seat at the dining room table to see Bodega’s hand outstretched in offering, a small white tab sitting on a torn piece of foil. The familiar feeling of the tab slipping under my tongue was like an old friend to me. I went and cuddled with Shrink on the couch, who had abstained from the cough syrup but had partaken in Lucy with Bodega and I. Shortly after we took turns by the window sharing a one hitter.

I’d quickly set up my art supplies to paint, my ritual with acid being that I would rest on the couch beneath the rainbow of fairy lights, waiting for about forty or so minutes after which I’d find my way to my canvas and proceed to become completely lost in my own world of unhindered creativity. That night I barely made it off of the couch, as after seating myself the realization of how much I’d just done hit me. Everything began to be lost in a bright, rainbow haze as I only went up and up and up.

Eventually with a little prodding from Bodega, who’d been excited to see what I’d create this time, I ambled over to the canvas where immediately after sitting down my head met the canvas as I slumped against the big desk. Nausea was hitting me hard and I was struggling to move, my world becoming an indiscernible lava lamp, form bubbling from below into mushrooms and stars as Bodega and Shrink moved me to the bedroom. I was completely gone at this point, if not at least euphoric, having no idea what was going on but just happy to be there when I promptly projectile vomited onto the bed.

Before I knew it I was on all fours on the floor, suddenly rocketed back to my senses somewhat as I found myself staring into a bowl. I puked again. The Chinese food I’d eaten earlier that day was now a cloudy white soup in front of me, an undigested mushroom swimming and pulsating through the milky matter like a jellyfish. I was moved again, now lying on the living room floor next to a mass of vomit covered blankets and covers that my partners had hastily removed from the bedroom just a moment before. Only recognizing the bundle as something to cling onto as nausea once again shook me, I did exactly that only to be pried off of them by Bodega. I then attempted to get up only to lose my balance and fall backward over the couch and onto the floor on the other side. I looked up at my partners and, my vision and speech beginning to break up and lag, stuttered that I was “glitching out” before, as they describe, collapsing onto the floor only to get up, crab walk in a random direction, collapse, get up, crabwalk, collapse, and rinse and repeat, looking to my two partners like I’d been possessed ala The Exorcist.

What I was experiencing at this point was, upon the initial collapse, a complete sensory disconnect with reality. As I lay there I was in a black void, four moving textures appearing before me divided into four squares; one of stone, one of carpet, one of rushing water, and one at this point I can’t recall or describe. I could only hear the sound of my own breathing, wondering all the while what had become of me. Was I dead? No, I decided, I must have lost control and begun to flee out of the apartment and down the hallway. Soon I’d be arrested and my life would be over. Clearly this was the only thing that could come of this I’d decided before being suddenly surfaced into consciousness. I’d attempted to get up, to crawl backward before my vision would freeze in place, and shrink, the snapshot moving into the corner of the black void. Again I’d come to consciousness, trying again in vain to get up before my vision froze, and a second snapshot would join that first in the corner. This occurred over and over, a mosaic of frames gathering on the right side of my field of view before I came to once again, this time bundled in blankets on the floor.

I looked up, seeing Shrink looking over me, his face expressionless and grim. I remember him looking so old in that moment, the lines of his face pronounced beneath the technicolor lights, flowing from his face onto the geometry of the patterned drug rug he’d been wearing. I attempted to speak to him but instead my left arm spasmed, flopping back uselessly over my head. I went under again, the events of the night playing out of order before me on a mangled mess of film. At some point I found myself reliving an uncomfortable moment from a trip from months before where I'd acted in a way I regretted, behaving the time immaturely, paranoid of the two people I loved more than anything. I came back again somewhat only to watch myself in third person, babbling about time travel, puking into the blankets I’d been bundled in over and over only to fold the blankets over the puke like that would somehow make it go away. Gone again, I became a clock, or maybe a set of gears, spinning in the void, hitching like something wasn’t quite right, like a spanner had been thrown into the works. Back to consciousness for a moment, laying against the couch, my clothes and the blankets now gone. I could see Bodega next to me, naked, his eyes closed. Outside the sliding glass door, past the balcony I could see an alien skyline of rounded blue buildings. The entertainment center had become two glowing, bulbous orange cones, dripping with gooey, viscous moisture.

I went under one last time, this time becoming a chain spinning through the gears, a tooth missing in the chain, or was it the chain was missing a link? Spinning, spinning, spinning until something caught and like a string finally going through the eye of a needle, like a hook in a loop, with a yoink I came back. Two baby blue eyes stared into mine. They didn’t look human at first, the immediate recognition of contact not registering at first before click, I realized it was Bodega, leaning over me, his expression intense, focused. I attempted to speak, choking on my words at first, struggling to move as if coming back from sleep paralysis. I sputtered out his name. Shrink’s voice came meekly from the couch as I made my way to my feet, “Don’t freak out, but we think you might’ve had a psychotic break.”

After a long stare at myself in the mirror and a lot of cleaning, my night for the most part ended, most of the more intense effects having worn off at this point which had been approximately five hours after dosing. Bodega and Shrink went on to drop more acid, wanting to have a little more fun that night to make up for having had to baby sit me through my “journey." I retired to the couch to reflect on what I’d experienced and how we could improve at managing crises like this one. Since that day I’ve mostly avoided mixing substances, and have yet to work up the courage to try DXM again, though I do want to try it by itself at least once, next time with a lot more preparation and forethought.

Exp Year: 2019	ExpID: 115150
Gender: Not Specified
Age at time of experience: 25
Published: Jun 26, 2023	Views: 647
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DXM (22), LSD (2), Cannabis (1) : Combinations (3), Difficult Experiences (5), Health Problems (27), Guides / Sitters (39), Small Group (2-9) (17)