DOSE:

645 mg

oral

DXM

BODY WEIGHT:

150 lb

To give a brief introduction, I am a 20 year old college student experienced with substances of all kinds. The following is a report on a DXM experience I had that I tried to turn into a poem of sorts. I hope this peice of writing can allow the reader to understand the nature of a 3rd plateau DXM experience. So here it is.....enjoy.

Beyond The Infinite

December 8, 2000.
7:25 p.m. - Ingested 645 mg of Dextromethorphan Hydrobromide ( DXM ),
The onslaught of dissociation, now unavoidable.
Manolis arrives,
The 8oz bottle of cough syrup sits conveniently on the dresser.
He looks at the Robotussin,
And then at me.
I smile,
A sinister grin of utter insanity,
He laughs, pondering if I’ve gone crazy.
I indulge in the moment,
Laughing as well.

Up the stairs, through the garage,
We hop in the car,
Reminiscing on times past,
The last time,
Incredible, intense and introspective,
Curious to see what the higher end of the 3rd plateau had in store,
Anxious,
Unaware of the havoc to come,
Unaware of the very mayhem brewing in my own growling stomach.

The drive to Justin’s is coherent,
On the drive back there is a hint of action,
It is the start of the ending,
Beginning to float in and out of my own skin,
In and out of a reality about to be violently disrupted.

We get back to my house,
Rolling the diesel Mercedes over the rise in the driveway,
Stepping out of the car there is a slight feeling of joy,
An experience unfolding,
A new experience.

Down to my room,
The scene now four deep,
Kyle, Justin, Manolis, and Ryan,
Reading the high school year book,
Socializing,
Like any other monotonous night in Woodbury, Connecticut,
For them this was the case,
As for me,
My night was progressively becoming more and more abnormal,
The passing of each minute, more involved,
The universal keeper of time,
Beating irregular,
Beating not at all,
It’s jugular tied off in a clove hitch,
The chemical was seizing my very existence,
Ripping away any normal conception of space, sensation, and thought.

I make my way clumsily into the bathroom,
A mere 10 steps away,
Upon entry I‘m spun,
Clumsily walking on a wobbling tight rope,
Looking in the mirror,
Attempting to make out my face, my body, myself,
Unable to receive a clear transmission,
Audio, visual, even emotional,
All, unplugged from the mainframe,
Experiencing an existence of the pre-basic kind,
Flushed, warmth of a foreign nature,
Fearful I have finally done it,
Gone too far?
Will this experiment be the death of me?
Will it ever really subside?

Relaxing in Hell’s waiting room,
I stare at my face,
Red as a voice cracked in class,
Blushing,
Pupils the size of beach balls,
Leaving no room for the blue of my eyes.

I sway back into the room,
Ten steps, seeming a journey,
Greeting my friends with confusion,
Diligently enjoying the yearbook,
They finally notice,
“Wow, your face is red Ryan…..Are you doing O.K. there?”
I reply only with a nod,
My appearance akin to a stumbling drunk,
Quickly becoming overwhelmed by the force,
They speak something of McDonalds,
I welcome their leaving,
I say a few chopped-up goodbyes,
They exit, promising to return.

Unable to comprehend my surroundings,
Communication unclear, ineffective,
Basic fundamentals, long gone,
Lights years away from the place I had left them,
Checked in at the terminal,
Impossible to take along for the flight,
Or were my faculties merely thrown in a cosmic washing machine of sorts?
My soul’s cognitive shirt, receiving a much needed cleansing?
I can only hope,
For any other possibility,
I would rather dismiss.

I somehow manage to turn on some music,
Trumpet,
Piercing once alive nerve endings,
The only sound left,
Soon fading,
Alone,
In every sense of the word,
Resided to the bed,
Under the covers,
Eyes closed,
Unknowing of my fate,
An odyssey unfolding.

I feel,
Or maybe there is no feeling at all,
Drifting into the abyss,
In no control of my destination,
Swimming through the fabric of existence.

I see a light,
A sole fragment of my train of thought, still intact,
Competing with a power far beyond itself,
Whispering from a distance,
Implanting a calming brand of assurance,
With the last breath it possessed.

Blackness,
I am separated,
Apart from my own stream of consciousness,
A tunnel, a light, and blackness,
How stereotypical,
My un-self thought,
Reaching the brink,
Of what could be the other side,
A dimension superceding both space and time,
The twilight zone of the human psyche,
Dissociation from all that is real,
Complete anesthesia.

Periods of dark,
Contrasted by brief flashes of vision,
A vision so distraught,
The wires cut,
Creating a faulty connection,
Someone, something, is trying to converse,
Talking to my unresponsive frame,
In bed by 10:00 o’clock at night,
My parents didn’t buy it,
“What are you on now Ryan?,”
A stern inquiry,
An incoherent mumble,
Managing to convey that cough syrup was the culprit,
Knowing of my adventurous ways,
Dad decides to let me be,
Trusting in my knowledge,
Praying that I hadn’t done too much,
Calming my mother down,
He takes control over my outside world,
For I wasn’t really there to witness it.

I was lost,
In a coma,
Surfing the sands of time,
Indeed, a violent spell of delirium,
A trance untouched by the sober comprehension,
Unfathomed in theory,
Real in experience,
Too real for comfort.

I awake,
The surreal subsiding,
Gradually becoming conscious of the room I had left behind,
The peak has past,
Like an old woman struggling to get out of bed,
I slowly get to my feet,
Barely aware of my own body,
Strolling around the house,
With that robotic gate,
A trance-walk,
Just about sensing a foot hitting the floor.

Relieved,
I had made it through alive,
The light had consumed my soul,
But for some reason it deemed me unready,
Tossing me back to my earthly realm of consciousness,
I had been to the netherworld,
Experienced the 3rd plateau and lived to tell the story.

………………………………..............................

So who had really gone mad?
I, said the man,
Holding an empty bottle of cough syrup, upright in his palm,
Wearing that sinister smile,
A sticky grin,
Red at the creases,
From ear to ear,
Ceasing to care.

Exp Year: 2000	ExpID: 19033
Gender: Male
Age at time of experience: 20
Published: Jan 16, 2020	Views: 1,098
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DXM (22) : Poetry (43), Retrospective / Summary (11), Unknown Context (20)