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Way To Far, Way To Fast
by Drew
Citation:   Drew. "Way To Far, Way To Fast: An Experience with 2C-T-2 (exp44005)". Erowid.org. Jul 8, 2005. erowid.org/exp/44005

  oral 2C-T-2 (capsule)


I am a fairly experienced drug user, having tried at the time of this experience marijuana, hydrocodone, oxycodone, propoxyphene, meperidine,hydromorphone, codeine, amphetamine, cocaine, heroin, alcohol, DXM, mushrooms, diazepam, phenobarbital, nitrous, and methylphenidate. I thought I could handle any chemical no matter what it was. I couldn't have been any more wrong.

I always liked experimenting with different substances, especially opiates, and had done my best to try anything I could get my hands on. I loved the feelings the drugs gave me, and I never saw any problem with getting high. I had primarily used opiates and marijuana, but had taken a liking to psychedelics after trying DXM and mushrooms. My experience was very limited to say the least, as I had only used them 4 or 5 times. After researching different psychedelics, I decided that I wanted to try 2C-T-2. I read everything I could find on the substance, and I got really stoked about taking it for a test drive.

Nobody I knew had ever heard of it, so I couldn't get my hands on it locally. I entered it into a search engine and the first result was a vendor who would sell it in gram quantities for a good price. Being 16, I couldn't use a credit card of my own to order it, so I took my dad's card and ordered a gram each of 2C-T-2 and 5-MeO-AMT. I had it shipped first class priority, which should have taken 2 days at most for it to arrive, but I waited a week and a half and nothing arrived. I wrote it off as a loss and assumed that it would never come and that I had been ripped off. I didn't really care, it wasn't my money anyway. During the week after christmas, I felt the urge to go get high. I called a friend of a friend, who picked me up and took me to his dealers house. I bought an ounce of hash and an eighth of KB. I got dropped off at a friend's house, and started smoking. The hash was shit but the weed was killer. I got super blazed, passed out and woke up to my cell phone ringing. My dad was pissed, he wanted me home right that instant. I got a ride home, and as soon as I walked in the door I knew something was wrong.

That morning he had gotten a package, addressed to me, that contained a vial of powder that was marked with a skull and crossbones. It was my 5-MeO-AMT. He was pissed. He figured out that I had used his card to pay for it, and he was disappointed to say the least. He grounded me until further notice, and told me not to come out of my room unless it was to eat or go to the bathroom. The next day at around noon, the doorbell rang. It was UPS, and I assumed it was a package for my dad. I answered the door and signed for the package, not even looking at it. When the UPS guy left, I looked at the package and saw it was addressed to me, with the chemical vendor's name and address on it. I looked around the house to make sure my dad wasn't home, and ran up to my room and locked the door behind me. I ripped open the package, and it was my 2C-T-2. I almost did a goddamn backflip when I saw it. It had been about two and a half weeks since I ordered it, and I was surprised it had actually come.

I threw the empty box away in the trash can in the garage. As I was going inside, the garage door opened. It was my dad, who had come home to check on me. I sprinted upstairs and grabbed the vial of 2C-T-2. I opened it and dumped most of the powder into a little bag I had sitting around. I shoved the bag down my pants and threw the mostly empty vial into the toilet. I tried to flush it, but it didn't go down. My dad opened the bathroom door and pushed me out of the way so he could see what I was trying to get rid of. He saw it and yelled, 'More drugs? Jesus Christ what is the matter with you?' He grabbed it out of the toilet, which made me laugh, and looked at it. He told me I was lucky all of it was flushed or he would have called the cops. He sent me to my room and told me not only was I grounded for 6 months, but that I would pay him back the $120 in drugs and shipping plus $100 for using the card without his permission. I slammed the door and told him to go to hell.

After he had gone downstairs, I pulled the bag out of my pants and looked at it. It looked kind of like yellowish cocaine. I grabbed a Celebrex capsule and dumped out the contents. I weighed out 30 milligrams of the 2C-T-2 and scooped most of it into the capsule. I swallowed it dry, and the powder on the outside of the capsule almost made me vomit. It was horrible, easily the worst taste I have ever experienced. I went and got some water and drank it as quickly as I could, hoping to kill the taste, but it didn't work. I laid down, closed my eyes, and waited. About half an hour after I had taken it, I was hit by a horrible wave of nausea. I had read about this, and was expecting it, but I didn't think it would be as bad as it was. I ran to the bathroom, turned on the exhaust fan and the shower, trying to make as much noise as possible so that my dad couldn't hear me puke. I wretched for about 5 minutes before anything came out. When I finally managed to purge my stomach, I noticed it was a neon orange and yellowish color. I finished puking after maybe 10 minutes of nonstop heaving, and I got into the shower to clean myself off. Physically, I felt horrible, but my mind was starting to float off into another world. It wasn't at all what I expected. It was very speedy, but not in a euphoric way. I felt like my mind was in overdrive, but I couldn't think clearly.

I vomited again, and after that, my body stopped feeling like it had been poisoned and I started feeling floaty and warm, much like on mushrooms. I stood there in the shower, letting the effects progress, until my dad opened the door, which scared the hell out of me. He told me I had 5 more minutes before he was going to turn of the water. He shut the door and I heard him go downstairs. I finished up and got out of the shower. Drying myself off was bizarre and it felt like I had never done it before. I had to think about every move I made, and it seemed very unnatural. I went back to my room, taking my time as I walked. I looked at the hallway which I had seen every day of my life in such a different way that it scared me.

At about this time I started seeing bright flashes of patterns on the walls and ceiling. The ceiling looked like it was vibrating, which didn't seem odd at the time. I went into my room and laid completely naked on my bed for an hour, just watching my ceiling fan change shape and move like it had a mind of it's own. I got up and went to my closet to find something to wear. I was definetly tripping harder than I had ever thought was possible, and I felt great at the same time. My thoughts were much more clear than normal, and I kept thinking bizarre thoughts that seemed completely normal to me at the time. I picked out some clothes, which took forever because I was trying to determine what would be the 'safest' clothes, and put them on.

I sat on my bed, which seemed to be tilting away from me, and suddenly became very claustrophobic. I felt the walls moving in on me, and even though I knew I was imagining it, I couldn't make myself believe that it was just a figment of my imagination. I went downstairs and told my dad (who was still livid about my use of his credit card) that I had a migraine. I had been given percocet by my doctor to treat my almost constant migraines, and my dad got my bottle out of his lockbox and gave me one of the tablets. I pretended to take it, and told him I wanted to go for a walk. He told me that he didn't care if I left, but that if I did he would be searching my room while I was gone. I told him that I didn't care, and walked out the door. I had my 2C-T-2 in my inside jean pocket, and my dad patted me down as I walked out of the door.

I walked quickly to my friend M's house, staring off into the distance. My sense of time was severely altered, and the walk that usually takes me less than 10 minutes seemed like it took an hour. When I got to M's, I told him that I had some 2C-T-2 and offered him a hit. He said no, as he had to go pick his little sister up in an hour. Two other people were at his house, S and A, and they both wanted to try some of the new substance. I got out M's scale, and weighed out some powder. I was worried about the right dose, as M's scale only could measure in increments of 100 milligrams. I weighed out 100 milligrams of the powder, divided it into 3 piles, and gave S and A each a pile of the powder. They swallowed it with orange juice, and they both complained that the taste was awful. M had to take them both home so that they could talk to their parents, and I went with them. The music in the car scared me to death, and I panicked the whole time. After dropping our friends off, M lit a blunt and smoked. He offered me some, but I declined. After he was done with it, we drove around for what seemed like forever but was only about an hour. We picked up both S and A, who both said they had puked from the 2C-T-2. A was all over the place, talking loudly and having a great time. S was tripping very hard and kept trying to play video games on a gameboy which did not exist. We went back to M's house and S and I got out of the car. M and A went to go pick up M's sister, so me and S chilled with M's little brother.

S got better as the trip progressed, and was peaking when M and A got back about an hour later with M's sister. We all laughed because A had told M how to get to the movie theater, but was hallucinating so badly that he forgot where he was and how to get to the theater. He gave the wrong directions, and they ended up 10 miles from where they needed to be. We all chilled and sat around smoking cigarettes and talking about nothing in particular. Around 9 p.m., which was 5 hours after I had dosed, a mutual friend, B, came over. S and A told him about the 2C-T-2, and I offered him some. He accepted, and I weighed out more. I weighed out 100 milligrams, and split it down the middle. He took half, and I took the other half. This was my first mistake. I didn't realize I was still affected by the first dose, so I tried to boost myself back up to where I had been before. I waited 15 minutes and felt nothing, so I weighed out another 100 milligrams, this time splitting it into 4 equal looking piles. I swallowed one of these, and gave the rest to three other people who had just come over.

This was my biggest mistake. I knew I had fucked up 10 minutes after I took my last dose, because I started tripping REALLY hard. I freaked out and ran to the bathroom, where I tried making myself throw up, but to no avail. I just looked at myself in the mirror, and saw my pupils getting bigger by the minute. When I went back to where everyone was sitting, I noticed nobody who had taken the 2C-T-2 looked very happy. Everybody who had taken it, which was a total of 5 people aside from myself, looked really sick. We all ran outside at the same time, and stood around vomiting into M's bushes. Needless to say, this was pretty unusual, and M's mother came outside. We all tried to play it cool, saying we had gone to a chinese buffet and that we all had food poisoning. She just rolled her eyes and went inside. After the puking session, B pulled out a bubbler and packed it. Everyone took turns hitting it except for me.

I was getting more and more dissociated by the minute. By the time the bowl got to me, I was completely out of this world. The nausea was so intense I couldn't stand up, so I sat on the ground, looking around and seeing the real world slip away. My heart rate was higher than it had ever been, and I was seeing white spots and swirls so badly that I couldn't see anything else. My visual field was completely obscured. I tried closing my eyes, which only made things worse. I saw vivid images of giant lizards and spinning tie-dye patterns whenever I closed my eyes, and there was something horrible about them. I felt like a condemned man, waiting for something to happen.

I had a feeling that something had gone terribly wrong. All of a sudden, I started blacking out. I would blink and 10 minutes would have passed. The blackouts kept getting longer and longer, until suddenly I left the real world completely. I had the same thought running through my head, and it seemed like the images and people in my hallucinations were attacking me. I tried to scream but I don't think I could. I suddenly saw all of my friends standing over me, and the sight of them panicking made me even more afraid than I had been. I blacked out again, and while I was out I had a series of visions where I saw everyone I knew, only they were framed in black, like I was seeing them through a TV monitor.

This series of images continued for what seemed like an eternity, but I came back to reality to the sound of sirens and people shouting. I was back at my house, having been dropped off there by M, S, and A. I was inside, on the couch, looking up at the ceiling.

I saw EMTs standing over me and I couldn't understand why. I had a tearing sensation on my arms and face. I felt like my skin was being ripped off with fish hooks. I was being carried out of the house on a stretcher while an EMT was putting an IV line into my arm. I left reality one final time and saw the procession of my friends' faces, only now they were frowning and seemed angry. It was just like before, only they were speaking now. They all said the same thing. 'Drugs. He took too much and now he is dead. He killed himself with drugs.' I finally decided to stop fighting the effects of the 2C-T-2, and told myself, 'That's it. You died. It's all over now'. The final face I saw was of my ex-girlfriend, who had broken up with me the week before. She was the only one who said something different. She said,'I loved you, Drew. I'm sorry you had to die this way'. Then everything went black.

All of a sudden, I was thrust back into consciousness. I looked down and saw a doctor pulling something out of my IV line. It was a syringe. I was restrained at the wrists and ankles, strapped down to keep me from thrashing around. The doctor disposed of the syringe, and looked at me. 'He should be coming back now', she said. She looked into my eyes and nodded. 'Yep, He's back with us'. She asked me what I had taken, and I responded with a bunch of mangled syllables. I couldn't make my mouth work correctly. When I finally regained control of myself, I told her I had taken 2C-T-2. She shook her head, as she had never heard of it. She gave me more Valium, as I was violently shaking every 30 seconds, almost like a seizure.

I finally calmed down enough to talk with my dad, who was sitting next to me. I told him I was so sorry for this, and that I hated myself. I asked him what I could do to make it all better. He wiped the sweat off of my forehead and told me that I had to get help. I told him I would and that I was sorry for being a horrible son and putting him through all of this. He said it was ok, he wasn't mad at me but that he was mad at himself for letting the problem get so bad. I told him I was sorry and I would never touch drugs again. He nodded his head and said he would do anything he could to help me get better. I started crying and told him that I loved him, which I hadn't said since I was a little kid. He told me he loved me too. He hugged me and told me I was going to be ok. I fell asleep, wanting more than anything else to just be like any normal teenager.

I woke up the next morning in a different room, feeling horribly nauseated and dizzy. My dad showed me to the bathroom and I vomited all over everything. My body was ridding itself of a black substance, which I later learned was charcoal, given to me by the EMTs to keep any more drug from getting into my system. The doctor came in and told me I was in the cardiac ICU because after I fell asleep and the valium I had been given started to wear off, my heart rate shot up to 190 beats per minute, and then stopped completely. They had shocked me, and my heart restarted. I didn't believe him, but my dad told me it was true. I had died. I sat and thought for a long time, about my life and how it had gotten to this point. I realized I needed help.

I was discharged later that day, and I had a new way of looking at life. I never touched anything except marijuana after that. I knew I couldn't risk dying over something as selfish as catching a buzz.

Exp Year: 2003ExpID: 44005
Gender: Male 
Age at time of experience: Not Given 
Published: Jul 8, 2005Views: 29,975
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2C-T-2 (53) : Various (28), Train Wrecks & Trip Disasters (7), Difficult Experiences (5)

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