Citation: SeekingHealing. "Not Exactly the Healing I Was Looking For: An Experience with Methoxetamine (exp115628)". Erowid.org. Sep 10, 2021. erowid.org/exp/115628
The dose described in this report is very high, potentially beyond Erowid's 'heavy' range, and could pose serious health risks or result in unwanted, extreme effects. Sometimes extremely high doses reported are errors rather than actual doses used.]
This experience happened 11 years ago when I was 25. At the time I was 2 years into a 6 or so year struggle with heroin addiction. I’d done about every drug that anyone has ever heard of but most importantly for this story I had quite a prolonged stint of DXM use a few years before and one odd ketamine experience. The ketamine was only a few months before I tried MXE
On that morning I had taken what I found out later was a ridiculous amount of K. Apparently opiates and Arylcyclohexylamines have some receptor competition or cross tolerance that is beyond my personal understanding. My brother had taken a full vial of Ketamax veterinary ketamine and microwaved it yielding 1g powder, which we split in 4 equal lines. We each did 2 lines, about 500mg each. Normally this would be far more than enough to “breakthrough.” Unfortunately I felt only the slow odd saying goodbye to every memory of every sensation of my life in a kind of odd and comfortably numb drift into death or amnesia or just nothing. I have no idea how long I spent there but eventually psyche reassembled in much the same way it had left me. No feeling of insight to be gained.
So when my brother told me about MXE I was only slightly interested. He had ordered it from China and was very excited. According to him this compound was brand new and designed for the “grey market enthusiast” which he certainly was. He had been experimenting with it and wanted to gift me some. He gave me an unmeasured amount, but judging by how much this was out of a preweighed gram bag, it was somewhere around 300-350 mg. I was trying to kick the heroin and had been for a while but prolonged sleep deprivation always did me in. After a few nights I’d give up and use to get some sleep. My partner at the time didn’t know I had been using again and certainly not that I was back in the full throes of addiction.
After 3 days of tossing and turning next to her, she was concerned about me to say the least. On the 4th night without H I was getting desperate and thought that maybe if I wasn’t gonna sleep, I could anesthetize myself a bit and hopefully have an experience that could facilitate some mental/emotional healing. I chose to try this MXE I had been given.
Before coming to bed I excused myself to the bathroom and poured out on the counter what I thought was half of what my brother had given me. I assumed around 150-200 mg and cut it into 2 lines. I quickly took them as deeply as I could inhale. I went to bed hoping for sleep, any sleep. Instead I spent the night feeling very oddly dissociated. Not fully out of my body but oddly compressed into the mattress and a feeling of falling with my head lower than my feet at times. I spent most of the night lying almost perfectly still and breathing very slowly and deeply. I watched as people in my family and friends play out scenarios on my ceiling like watching tv. Mostly positive in message about wanting me to get better with my addictions. It was enjoyable considering the circumstance and I wanted to go deeper.
The effects had mostly subsided before my partner had gotten up. I went about my day feeling a little more positive than I had felt in a while, but still exhausted. When night came I was ready to try again. This time I wasn’t going to snort it. I wanted a stronger experience than the night before if not my ever elusive sleep. This was now 5 days since I had any semblance of what you could call productive sleep and I was determined.
Being an IV user at the time I thought about injecting what I had left. Being mostly unfamiliar with this substance and not fully trusting the lab that made it not to have any contaminants, I chose to break off the needle from a syringe and “booty bump” or more accurately “Turkey baster” it instead. I let my lady retire first and set my plan in motion.
I had some relaxing music going in the living room. I walked to the bathroom to take my dose. I poured what I had left into a spoon. I was surprised to find that the pile before me was noticeably larger than what I had cut into lines the night before. Realizing this I estimated the remainder now in my spoon to be at least 200mg. I carefully added enough tap water to dissolve the white crystalline powder. After giving a few stirs with a match stick I took my modified syringe and drew up the liquid. I pulled down my boxers, sat my hip down on the toilet and inserted the blunted tip. I pushed down on the plunger, quickly removed the syringe and buried it deep in the trash can, so no one would find it.
As I left the bathroom I noticed a cold metallic feeling inside my colon spreading quickly through me. It made me think of the scene in The Matrix when Neo puts his fingers in the mirror. It only took me a few seconds to reach the living room right about the time the cold metallic feeling was reaching my neck. Then blackness.
This is where things become very difficult to remember and reconstruct. A lot happened in a “space” where I was completely without a body but as far as I can remember fully attached to my ego/who I was and what I had done to get here.
The next thing I remember clearly is being in an infinite and empty black space. Empty save for a massive neon mandala of an unfathomable number of colors all undulating together in some celestial orgiastic fashion. It cast beautiful radiant light out to me. Over what felt like an eternity I drifted slowly toward this most beautiful object.
When I finally reached the point of contact with this mandala I settled into a spot that seemed to be at the surface of it. All the colors seemed to be made up of stands of glowing light dancing and wiggling all around me. Similar to a cluster of worms wiggling out of something, but so beautiful. At some point I realized that I was now one of them, a colored strand in the mandala and it was blissful and comfortable. It felt like home. A home I had known from long ago.
After some time, I heard words come to me in a kind of telepathy “Hey! You’re here! So good to see you, but what are you doing here?!” I was confused. The strands around me were talking to me and they were noticeably excited. They felt familiar to me. It felt like they loved me. I asked where is was, and they told me that this is where souls come after they die. “We all come here to rest and process the lives we’ve lived until we are ready to live again. “Is this heaven? I asked. They seemed amused with my limited conceptions. “Not quite” they replied lovingly.
Now I was intrigued. Had I taken too much of the drug and died? Any one who’s ever been truly addicted to heroin can tell you that death often seems like an easier way to stop using than dealing with detox, so the idea I had died didn’t disturb me. In fact considering how blissful this place and experience was I felt happy to stay, wherever this was.
I told them “I did MXE and I guess I OD’d. But that’s okay I want to stay here.” “Oh no!” they said. “You don’t want to do that!” I told them I didn’t understand, this place was wonderful. “Of course! This place is wonderful, but Life is where it’s at! Life is where we are all waiting to get back to. Life is what it’s all about, and you are not yet finished!” “But life is so difficult, so painful, so depressing!” I replied. “I’m using heroin again, I’m so ashamed”. “Life can be very challenging,” they said. “You don’t have to be afraid. Everything is okay. Even when it’s not, it’s all love. It’s all just as it’s meant to be. Besides, what game is any fun if there is no challenge?” I understood their message and knew I had to go back, but I was in no rush.
The next thing I could remember, I watched as lovely shapes of pink and green and yellow began to materialize in my vision. After what seemed liked years I realized I was looking at a painting of flowers. I heard a mechanical whirring sound and felt myself being moved in the direction of my head. The painting of flowers was on a ceiling. A large tapered plastic ring moved around me. I am not sure when I realized that I was being moved into an MRI machine, but this was in fact the case. I laid in silence as I was scanned. After I was out of the machine the doctor and my partner noticed I was lucid. They informed me that I was at the hospital and they believed I may have had a stroke.
I was still very altered at that point and trying in vain to put my thoughts together. I couldn’t remember that I had taken anything and wasn’t sure why I was there any more than the doctor did. They asked me if I knew my name. After a long moment thinking very hard I said “M.” That was the name of my partner who’s face I was currently staring into. I couldn’t tell whose body was who’s. It was very confusing.
I slowly came down and started to piece together what had happened. I told the doctor I took something my brother had given me. I had a hard time recalling its name. “I think it was called Methoxetamine” I told him. “MXE, it’s a new research chemical.” M looked at me dismayed and confused. The doctor said he was unfamiliar and would have to go do some research. And since I hadn’t been able to produce a urine sample I would have to be given a catheter. Thank god I was still quite numb…
As soon as the doctor left the room M burst out angrily asking me why on earth I would take some weird drug without telling her. I couldn’t lie to her any longer. I broke down and told her I had been using heroin again for months, and this was an attempt to help me kick. She was devastated. A tear streamed down her cheek. After a long silence I asked what happens now. She told me that deceiving her all this time had destroyed her trust and that I would have to move out. This was obviously a nightmare come true.
On the way home M told me that she had heard a thud that had woken her from her sleep. She came out to the living room to find me, eyes open and totally unresponsive on the floor. Terrified she picked me up and carried me down stairs, loaded me in the car and drove me to the ER. It was one of the worst experiences of her life. How dramatic! My heart was broken for her.
After I moved out I got on methadone and within a year I was off all opiates, and I haven’t done any dissociatives since. I can’t say that I never will. M is doing well last time I heard from her and so am I. That night will not be easily forgotten. It gave me healing, by bringing my bullshit to light, not exactly what I was looking for, but I am very grateful it happened.
I don’t know if what happens in trips is really out there, or if it’s all inside our heads. Life is still difficult of course, and it may sound trite, but when I am feeling like I don’t want to do it anymore, I do think about the mandala and the loving “souls”. I remember what they told me. This game we call life is what it’s all about, and that it would be pointless without challenge. It’s all okay, and even when it’s not, it’s all love. Maybe I’m not ready to hit that reset button just yet.
Please be very careful using any substance in any way. And when you are messing with unknown research chemicals with little or no information to go on, understand that you have little control over their dangers and where they might take you. Peace and love! -J
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