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Working Toward Letting Go
Citation:   Kidrites. "Working Toward Letting Go: An Experience with DMT (exp91964)". Erowid.org. Aug 17, 2017. erowid.org/exp/91964

25 mg vaporized DMT (extract)
This was my third attempt at DMT. My first and second attempts were startling as my body began to vibrate all over with uncanny energy. The room began to resonate along with what was happening to my body. Everything took on a shimmering, almost plastic quality. A sound came through almost like a metronome set to a high setting (although not quite annoying like a metronome tick), as if through the matter of the room itself, shut out everything. I felt that if I took another hit, as I knew I would have to in order to break through to hyperspace, I would be sucked out of my body. From what I’ve heard, the experience is tantamount to an OBE.

I panicked a little, fearing that it was going to be something similar to a bad experience I’d had when I tried salvia a few months prior. In that experience I’d been “transported” to some place where I lost all sense of self and couldn’t get out. I didn’t want to bring anything like that upon myself again; I couldn’t bring myself to take another hit on either the first or second try. Instead, I leaned back in the recliner and closed my eyes, enjoying very briefly a series of images flickering on a panel that very much resembled a slot machine. But rather than three slots there were many, and I was zoomed in on just a fraction of the full “blueprint” of whatever language this was. The symbols/motifs didn’t roll down, they transformed from one into another, so quickly that even if I understood the language, I wouldn’t have been able to make sense of what I was seeing.

But I was yearning to experience hyperspace, and I’d done a lot of work to extract what little DMT I had.
I was yearning to experience hyperspace, and I’d done a lot of work to extract what little DMT I had.
I couple of days later I set up about 25-30mg on a spoon within a very crudely improvised device that I could use to melt the chemical from underneath and breathe the vapor through a funnel on top. I put some Vaseline on my lips and in my mouth to try and protect it (I burned the top of my lip the second time), although this didn’t really help much.

I began to melt the DMT and breath through the funnel. I built up puffs of smoke slowly, trying to hold each for as long as I could. The first three times produced very little (the device wasn’t very efficient), but by the fourth hit, when I finally got a lungful of smoke, the familiar sensations were beginning to overtake me. I forced myself to hold in the fourth, and then took the fifth as my body grew incredibly heavy and the room began to change. Even as I was holding the fifth and burning more, I could no longer hear the sizzling of the DMT in the spoon. Then I could no longer move my body at all and I stopped trying. I leaned back and, still holding the last big breath, saw everything on the table and the computer desk shimmering, melting, and fading away all at the same time.

I closed my eyes and saw swirls upon swirls of color and energy. Everything was happening so fast I knew I wouldn’t be able to remember any of this. I probably could have done a much better job had I not been desperately trying to hold on to my sense of self. I know from reading about it that failure to let go is antithetical to really getting a lot out of the experience. So while these unspeakable vignettes, fractals and orbs were flying toward me, grasping and pulling upon my consciousness, stroking the core of my awareness, I was trying to scramble back to my body. Such a mistake. I wish I’d stopped fighting it, stopped saying to myself, “See I’m still me… somewhere in all this stream of willy-nilly, psychedelic information… I’m still me. Still me. See… there I am… that thought is from me, even while all of this is happening. How can I think like that when all of this is going on—doesn’t that mean that everything out there that I’m seeing is NOT me?”

I suppose like many of those who are starting out with DMT, they worry that they won’t be able to get back to their bodies. But even in the worry I noticed that there was someone in the midst of the kaleidoscope. It wasn’t an immediate realization. I began to see a transparent sphere (with translucent edges) and a glowing, pulsing orange “life force” within, leaping to and fro in my vision. Manipulating the egg-like orbs from behind, and above, and the sides, was this person. I never saw a face, but I saw enough of his body to know that he was naked (there was no evidence of gender, although he seemed masculine) and his arms were pumping madly, touching the sphere, rolling the sphere, squeezing the sphere. The weirdest thing of all was that he seemed to be doing it for my benefit. He was trying to show me something, to change me through the spherical egg. By the time I became fully conscious of all this, I was all too-soon slipping away from it, reluctantly now re-entering myself.

I sat in the chair, found it difficult to move my limbs. But then I realized that I didn’t want to move just yet. I sat there for some time trying to recollect what I’d just seen. I feel that somehow, I missed the most important part of it while I was too busy trying to reassure myself that I was still me.

A few things came to me in afterthought. The old compulsion I’ve had in earlier years, when I was much happier, to organize my “world” has come back. I hope it stays with me. I feel that it is not so much the neurotic need to control my space as it is to have everything laid out and categorized so I can make better sense of it and increase my understanding of life. I have looked through a lot of things and experimented very much with states of consciousness lately, but I still feel that I am only scratching the surface of what it means to be alive in this physical world. I suspect that our place here is tremendously important (and how lucky we are to be apart of it!).

I know that part of this urge is a direct reaction to the inability to make sense of what I just saw. It was pure data presented to me in such a way that my brain could only interpret as chaos. Now that I’m back, I feel compelled to make sense of the things that are within my capacity to understand. One of the best ways of doing this is to keep a journal. In high school I kept a huge journal that nearly reached 300 pages at one point. It is unfortunate that I can no longer look back on this, reflect and learn from where my mind was at that point, because in a fit of shame and self-incrimination, I deleted it. Now I want to continue using a journal through an electronic medium, but without strict rules about what should go into it and why.

Exp Year: 2011ExpID: 91964
Gender: Male 
Age at time of experience: 30
Published: Aug 17, 2017Views: 4,462
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DMT (18) : Entities / Beings (37), General (1), Alone (16)

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