Citation: a little girl. "Accepting: An Experience with DMT (exp115363)". Erowid.org. Apr 20, 2021. erowid.org/exp/115363
||(powder / crystals)
Dosage: ~60-80mg with three screens in a bong (packed ~50mg, a medium sized crystal, and there had to have been at least 20-30mg left on the screen+ downstem from my previous attempts. This was evident in the morning after that there was still more because crystals had reformed in my downstem overnight.)
Set - neutral, potential tainted with unfounded worries of dying from home brew
Setting - bedroom, had clothes and things across the floor and desk, bed covered with stuffed animals to keep me safe, and a large stop sign on the wall (listen Iím not the brightest, I know).
Iíd done one attempt prior with an assistant (50mg which barely took due to poor technique, estimated dose sub-25mg.), during which Iíd failed to get past the underlying patterns overlaying things, and the crystalline structure of reality which reforms to allow us to act. Iíd also tried a light dose with a light mix of cannabis, to little effect beyond a) body feeling softening up and b) initial visual enhancements, mostly made everything more vivid. Tactile sensation is like a lovely static at these doses but the experience of said proprioception is significantly changed, so as to not be recognizable, at least in my own experience, as my body interacting with reality/material, so much as I feel the pattern of my form and how it feels against other forms, but itís never my body. At low doses, I feel able to dissolve into BEING the world as opposed to BEING IN the world.
I closed the door; I did not lock it. Iíd packed the bowl and turned a looped version of Stone in Focus by Aphex Twin to relax and meditate to, ground to, so that I would be prepared for what was ahead of me. Be it death, be it whatever; all I had desired, if nothing else, was to be prepared for what was ahead of me. I quickly learned nothing can prepare you for your trip, but Iíll leave those details to explain themselves. I spent 5 minutes meditating before getting the balls to bring my lips to the piece.
I fan the butane flame towards the crystals, watching as they melt and vaporize, beginning to slowly but steadily inhale. I continue this until there is no smoke. Iíve inhaled for 20-30seconds, and as I continue holding it, the heavier effects begin knocking on the back door of my consciousness, as theyíre about to vacate the premises for me. I instantly begin setting down everything in a wobbly fashion on the desk in front of my mattress on the floor, and jumped back onto my bed, scrambling to hug the BLŇHAJ stuffy (IKEA shark) that a friend of mine also has, because I wanted to be with someone going into the experience. The final sight that filled my vision, before I exhaled, was the brown siding of the dresser in front of my face.
Whenever I finally felt the lil punch that sent the DMT out of my lungs, I exhaled with the least restraint imaginable; and as I exhaled the smoke, so too did my consciousness leave with it. No visuals to speak of as I was reaching my breakthrough, as Iíd already been through before I could see anything. I lost the capacity to witness entirely for roughly 8 minutes, as estimated by the time I stopped the song at when I returned to reality (15:54, Iíd meditated for 5 minutes, and I give 2 minutes to me standing up to stop it and then actually being able to). The follow will be a description of what I felt during the exhalation, and ďduringĒ the Void Iíd entered.
As the smoke left my lungs, my body and consciousness felt as though it was unfolded, the skin peeled back fractally until my form and mind was interwoven with the underlying pattern of nothing (everything) around me in this crystallized pattern of nothing, everything, and all of time contained within this atemporal space. It felt like Iíd melted into the moment and forever simultaneously, and Iíd peeled my form out to fit into and realize Ďmyí pattern in everything/nothing and feel all iterations of myself throughout time in this perfect stillness during non-time/being. As far as I could understand with what little content of thought was passing during that period, I was gone for good in some sense, whether dead or just permanently stuck out of reality.
As I started to catch glimpses, passing by pieces of reality returning to my vision, so too did I recognize the INTENSE time dilation. The song Iíd been playing sounded at least 4x slower. Iíve described the return from nothing to something in two ways that I feel are appropriate. 1) When the glimpses, thoughts, images of reality returned, I clinged to them for dear life and dragged my way out of the jaws of non-time. Tossing myself haphazardly from falling rock to falling rock, Iím climbing away on the only path I can take. 2) The experience of time coming back up to speed feels almost like when you start a film reel. Slowly, it slaps through the frames one at a time, ever quicker; the very same with reality, although, you never stopped experiencing 60fps, you just got time scaled down, never actually stopped.
I digress, at this point Iíd returned to reality, with overlapping and very intense visuals (afterimages that would grow fractally overlaying everything, trails from everything, the room breathing so much with me that the wall was nearly to my face when Iíd breath out.), and the horrible recognition of the desync of sound settled in as soon as I heard the song Iíd left on again. Itíd taken on a dreadful sound due to the dilation, one of grinding, so I rushed to turn it off. Upon getting it turned off, Iíd had the thought to check my BPM, at which point I spent Ď5 secondsí feeling my jugular, only to feel the beat after 5 seconds and my fingers had held it off. This reinforced the ďIím dead or dyingĒ bit, went on to check my bpm at 99, which actually *did* help in hindsight because I knew 99 wasnít out of range when interacting with the compound, this didnít stop 3 compulsive rechecks to keep myself grounded while re-syncing, all of which came around 71 82 74, if memory serves.
Once Iíd done this, I began to crawl to the door, stretched out perceptually and physically (twisted my knees and damaged my ligaments in the process, theyíve been getting better with light therapy), in the hopes of locking the door so that IF I was dying/freaking out, no one would involve the cops in a well-intentioned manner then they fuck everything up because theyíre cops and they get paid for that. I wanted my death to be private, thank you very much. I eventually reach the door after pushing with my breath through the visual haze one last time, grabbed the knob, turned the lock shut, collapsed, then let out the nicest exhale of relief Iíve experienced. Mind you it didnít give me much relief from the effects, it very much just alleviated some anxiety so I could navigate more thoroughly through the situation.
On the way back from the door, Iíd seen the tape I keep over my light switches, reading ďdonít!!!Ē. The visual of this wasnít as phenomenal in my interaction, beyond the suggestion it gave me. ĎDonít panic, yeah, I know me, thanks for leaving a sign.í Then I looked at the large red stop sign on my wall; this visual blasted out at me overlaying itself and fractally chaining into my vision, obviously informing me to stop. Remember that your environment and its signs will affect your trip, if you arenít prepared for that then take precautionary measures so as to sterilize your environment of negative stimuli; you are suggestible under the influence of psychedelic compounds, suggest love and calm in your setting and it will bleed into your experience.
After crawling back to the bed, I was on my knees grabbing my head at times and just talking between my ego and observer, ego being given these lessons by observer without words/thoughts, just precognitive epiphanies to which Iíd started to enact a phantom dialogue, a recreation of which follows: "Okay, yes, I understand. Yes I know I mean it, really, I get that I love them. Yes I know, everything and also me. Yes I know I'm okay, fuck goddamn alright. Please; fuck, I get it. I know I never get to stop understanding. Yes I know I love you, yes I get it, please. I understand I swear. Oooooohhhh-kay alright. Hello, there it; ohhhh, there it is. Fuck. Shit, alright Iím. Iím back. Iím together. We are again. Great. Oh, god...yeah, I still see. I know I know this is what I asked for, I get it. But Iím here now, I know itís fine. Thank you...I know. I get it. Thank you, I love you." Upon utterance of the last three words, my sounds were resynced/in phase with one another again. I was at least able to maneuver and be again, although the pattern shifting proved to be problematic.
I picked up my phone, and my home screen being my partner, I saw the butterflies on their cheeks turn into this flowing purple pattern that was morphing how they looked, but my active thoughts changed my perception of their face. I was ďconsciously informingĒ the image what the contents should be, in my mind. As soon as Iíd managed to get them to be a positive image I immediately locked my phone again, in an attempt to not sully my partners image because the only thing in those moments that Iíd missed about reality proper, was my partner and that Iíd never see them again. I felt, if only I could be in eternity with them, I could show them all my love there; though I still obviously preferred reality proper as my location for interacting with and being with everyone else as well. I realized that night again just how much I love them.
Iíd cuddled a stuffed animal for a bit, calming down before sitting back upright on the edge of my bed, watching the patterns underlying the mattress slowly stop moving. I was back. Reality had resynced, the visions had left, and I was breathing.
As ineffable an experience such as this may be, wherein I bypassed visuals almost entirely for the take off itself, the deep amount of understanding and calm itís brought to my life has been staggering. My anxiety is a gnat where it was a drill sergeant. I havenít felt as creatively inclined and desiring since I was a child. Iíve gotten a job where Iíd been praying for disability for months on end. I accepted truths Iíve known for ages and espoused often, but now live. Every day I intend to live the lesson of my trip, and that is appreciation.
Every day I intend to live the lesson of my trip, and that is appreciation.
True appreciation beyond words, adoration of what is before you, and acceptance of all as it is, in its horror and its beauty alike. Iím thankful that Iíve been able to emancipate myself from years of pharmaceuticals and a mire of anxiety, all for my interaction with a small chemical compound with no long lasting detrimental effects, beyond instances of HPPD.
Love yourselves and others. Itís the only thing you can do to fix where youíre at. We can fight alone, but we depend upon the help of others to progress forward. Donít saddle yourself. Thank you, if youíve given me the time of day. Blessed be, and please be safe.
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