DOSE:			SSRIs
	30 mg	rectal	5-MeO-DMT

BODY WEIGHT:

220 lb

I am a 19 year old male, depressed for years, confused, distraught and above all else: Interested in what I can do to be better.

There is no magical cure that can be taken to make a human better. That human has to put the effort, time, ability and mindset in order to finish the task. Given a situation of distress, depression, hardship and fear: You have no one to look for guidance. The only way to truly escape the cycle of suffering is for yourself to be your guidance, your teacher.

I am in no way shape or form advocating the usage of this chemical at such a young age, a volatile mindset and a terrifying environment. I did not follow all necessary risk prevention and I could've easily went through a much, much worse outcome if I wasn't lucky.

It was early June 2022, I've had a handful of 5-MeO-DMT experiences in the past; having obtained a fumarate form of 5-MeO-DMT the best routes of administration was nasal or rectal. I educated myself upon dosing myself with such a method, buying necessary materials and dosing at the correct measurement within the anal canal. Every dose before this one wasn't enough for me to "break through", but was definitely noticeable for me to note the sheer nauseating effects of the substance.

I did what any good 19 year old living with roommates would do:
Strap myself to my slightly reclined computer chair with two shitty, tight belts.
Wearing a "bib" of an old flannel of mine, just in case I vomited.
Having zero physical trip sitters, I was in a call on my PC with a friend from Canada at the time, thousands of kilometers away.
I barely fasted, I drank water, ate food 4 hours before I tripped. I was signing myself up for a horrible time.

Deep breaths, deep breaths. Stick that thing in your ass.
Plunge it: it ain't gay if it's drugs.
Keep it in for a minute, still not gay, it's 'healthy' drug use.

The natural "state" of 5-MeO ensued, a pleasant breathing visual around my room. Looking at my walls and seeing the familiarity of the environment seem so distant. My memories turning into something you could theoretically read off a piece of paper, bullet notes for a DnD character, a fictional character, a separate reality.

"This is the moment where you need to let go" I keep repeating to myself internally. My friend on the line noticed my silence, and kept silent. It's terrifying to forget yourself, to view yourself outside of yourself. I kept grounding myself to my mindset going into this, "This is fucking awesome" is usually the best way for me to go about things. (Cut yourself cooking? Hell yeah brother, check out that electrical pulse of pain going into your head.)

The familiar feeling of retching in my throat, or what I comprehended my throat being, gravity stopping all effect my comprehension, the headphones I was wearing ceasing to pinch on my head, my fingers drifting like an astronaut unconscious. My mind in a state of absolute consciousness, away from materialistic value and away from my sense of self. This is usually the fun part where I start looking around and fucking about.

Keep in mind I did 30 mg of 5-MeO. I wanted to "break through my body mannnn, let's see some demons" But under the influence of an SSRI, the dulling effects of the psychedelic were apparent, but the nausea stayed potent.

"The rising feeling is back. Should I hold it back? Should I let go? Will I die if I vomit here? I can't get up, I can't move, I shouldn't move. Sober me put myself into this position, I have to stay here. Is it okay if I die?"

All at once, the angst, anxiety, stress and pepperoni rushed out of my throat, spilling onto myself. Did I do that? Is this happening? My consciousness diluted itself into the sea of infinity, my mind blank and my sense of self gone. I have died.

I awake, I'm alive! And now I'm throwing up again. Vomit all over myself. It smells funny. Time to go back into the abyss of death again.
The loop repeats, death, life, vomit, death, life, vomit.

From my Canadian friend's perspective, all he was hearing was a good five minutes of silence proceeding with a torrent of guttural vomiting sounds.

This clicked into my head, putting me (loosely) back into reality, feeling the empathetic emotions of "bro holy shit my friend thinks I'm dying" tears form behind my eyes, looking at my body, my vomit splattered all over me and my mind drifting apart. My room warping and connecting into itself.

I apologize over and over, my mind racing with the absolute bliss of vomiting, I've retched and kneeled over a toilet with no avail under the influence of 210ug LSD. 5-MeO took the stress out, and literally spilled it out of me. The dopamine, the bliss and the clarity rushing out of me, in the form of half-eaten pizza.

I told my friend that I'm safe, I'm okay, and I'm gonna take a shower. "I'm fine now. I'm fine now."
Getting up, I feel automatic, my body is separate from me, I take off my 'bib' and lay it into the hamper, I'm drenched in vomit, my chin caked in bile and my sense of smell tingled by acidic waste.

"This room is a fucking mess."
I'm gone from my body, this dude's fucking room stinks, it sucks here. His teeth are covered in bile and his hands are dirty. Go wash your fucking hands numb nuts. Brush your teeth. You ain't showering until this room is CLEAN.

I get on my hands and knees, scrape up whatever bullshit I have lying around, my chin obviously layered with stomach grease. Hands are busy, body is second priority. Clean the desk, wipe that shit off. This is your life right here, each individual thing you pick up is a metaphor for your memories, your life, your choices, your ability. You let yourself go, this is the time in your life that decides you. Wipe the window up and down, and wipe the memories of your abuse away.

Stare into the abyss of your psyche, your actions dictate who you are to other people, this includes yourself.

Every time I wanted to sit down, the feelings of laziness and procrastination wash over me, I fought it, months of mental neglect turned physical. The smell of vomit didn't faze me anymore, I'm here and I'm doing something for myself, that is what matters. Silence was music to my ears, the room warping and my reality disassembling itself in shaped pieces around me. Keep your eyes forward.

Deep breath, in and out. An hour of cleaning later, I take a shower in complete darkness, Put on my clothes and flop into bed.

That experience didn't 'fix' me, it showed me a way to be better. I'm still myself, lazy but slightly, slightly more determined.
At least my room is clean, that's a plus.

Exp Year: 2022	ExpID: 116423
Gender: Male
Age at time of experience: 19
Published: Feb 12, 2024	Views: 15
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5-MeO-DMT (58) : Alone (16), Therapeutic Intent or Outcome (49), Train Wrecks & Trip Disasters (7), Combinations (3)