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A Lullaby Overcoming Death
DXM (with CPM)
Citation:   Massive Attack. "A Lullaby Overcoming Death: An Experience with DXM (with CPM) (exp96898)". Erowid.org. Aug 13, 2022. erowid.org/exp/96898

T+ 0:00
8 tablets oral DXM (pill / tablet)
  T+ 1:00 8 tablets oral DXM (pill / tablet)

It wasn't a good year for me. I had moved to another town at the request of my current girlfriend, and things immediately took a turn for the worst. Our 2 year relationship had been shody for about a year by then, and it should have been quite obvious things would not last much longer -- she cheated on me and we broke up shortly after our move so I was left alone in my empty apartment. A 17 year old girl with little drug history, some marijuana here and there, a little Triple C trip occasionally, and (at the moment) the most depression you could fit into one body. I hated my ex, I hated my new school, and I hated pretty much everything in my life. I felt like it'd be a good time to revisit my DXM friend for a trip.

I couldn't purchase it at the store due to age, but a naive neighbor was convinced to buy it for me (because, moral drug-using citizen that I am, I couldn't bear stealing anything). The usual dose was about 6-8 pills for me, and since I was feeling particularly bad I took a whole 8 sheet initially. It was probably around 4PM, because I remember calling a friend, we'll call her Jo, telling her what I was doing, and the sky still looked clear. We were on the phone for about 45 minutes, in which time the pills had not kicked in. We hung up eventually and I wandered around for another 15 minutes or so, impatiently expecting my high to begin, and making myself more depressed by throwing away things that reminded me of my ex.

It was a little before 5PM that I became reckless. I popped the second sheet, with no hesitation and wild abandon to put my total at 16 tablets. As the first dose was beginning to hit me, I got another phone call. This time from an ex who had remained a (sort of) friend, him and his gf were going to be coming to my new town and wanted to know if I would hang out. I said sure, and said I'd dosed and told them to come get fucked up with me. There was a part of me, a little voice in the back of my head after I'd swallowed the second dose that knew I'd gone to far, and it told me I needed people to be there, regardless of whether or not I particularly liked them.

After hanging up I knew that I was in a very deep spiral of high. My pupils completely dominated my iris, and my tongue was already feeling sticky and swollen in my mouth. I called Jo back, and I'm not sure what I said to her. Later she told me I rambled about the drugs, and about meeting up with the ex, and how I didn't hate her (she was the girl my ex had cheated on me with, our relationship was a very crazy one that ended up with us having sex? Yeah, I know, confusing.)...

An undetermined amount of time passed, but I know it was around 2 hours of me glitching through my house and stopping to listen to music, melting into my futon. I was mostly lost in my head, eyes closed and having the most intense visuals you can imagine. A lot of this time is blurry, it feels as if time didn't function properly at all. One song would feel like 10 seconds and the next would feel like 10 years. I spent a lot of time thinking about myself and my ex, and staring at the lightbulbs on my ceiling fan. I knew it was around 2 hours later because when I heard a distant pounding on the door, it was suddenly dark. I made my way to the door, my vision clipping out, pausing and trying to keep my balance. Blackness. I had moved 4 feet. Blackness. I had moved another 3 feet. Blackness. It continued. I felt a rush of paranoia -- I'd forgotten I'd invited people over, and I wasn't even sure how long they'd been knocking on my door. I thought all the worst things, that it was my ex, or the police, or someone coming to kill me. Of course, after literally taking 3 minutes to get to the door I thrust it open, preparing to be assaulted, only to be greeted with no one outside. My friend had rounded the corner after I didn't answer and had went back to his truck. I had to walk outside and wave them in, which was nearly impossible. I felt like the world was bending around every one of my foot steps, as if each step I was falling into the ground endlessly. It was intensely unnerving, and I couldn't stand to look at the concrete or grass anymore, and quickly retreated back inside. My vision was extremely tunneled and my hearing even felt a bit static-y.

Once inside I headed directly for my room in the back, only to hang onto the door frame as my friend came in. My head lolled while I watched them file in. He'd brought more than his girlfriend with him though, I think it was about 3 other people. Random guys. I didn't like it, but I couldn't stand the idea of my friend leaving, much less form sentences in my head that would subtley hint at my uneasiness around his friends. Luckily him and his girlfriend followed me into the room, and the other guys didn't follow. We continued to listen to music, and I continued to zone out and hallucinate while watching the beams of light from my ceiling fan. They had dosed as well, I believe taking 6 for her and 8 for him respectively. I don't think I ever conveyed to them how many I had taken.

At some point his friends left, taking his truck to drive around and do stuff in, leaving just us three. I started to feel sick and weak, becoming very close to losing all control of my limbs. They felt like noodles attached to my torso. I realized I needed to vomit. Not that I physically felt like I would, but that if I didn't do it right now, I was either going to die or I was going to trip for eternity and never come back to the real world. I don't remember talking to them other than figuring out they had taken some too; they might have been carrying away with their own conversation for all I know, or I might have been conversing with them as well. I don't remember reaching the bathroom at all. It was right outside my room in the hallway, so I remember getting up from my bed, and then suddenly being kneeled down over the toilet.

I couldn't barf so I shoved my finger into the back of my throat. I didn't want to be any higher, it was becoming too overwhelming, I was losing sense of reality and myself. I wanted it to stop, or at least wanted it to stop progressing. When I barfed I didn't even feel it, no pain, just suddenly I was staring into a portal filled with blood. This of course was the red candy coating of the 'skittles'--or maybe it was blood, I'll never know. I don't know what happened in that bathroom. I don't know how long I was in there, or how long I stared into the swirling portal, feeling sucked into it and being forced to search the furthest corners of my mind. I suddenly had to relive every horrible thing I'd ever done, and every terrible aspect of my shitty relationship, and why I was a piece of shit for doing drugs. I imagined I would die, and my family would all hate me, my mother would be so disappointed in me. The girl everyone had such high expectations for. In a moment of sanity I reached out and flushed the toilet. I was released from it's hold, finally, and somehow stumbled back into my room.

On the bed I laid down, slightly propped against the wall with pillows, with the ex and his girlfriend on the right side of me nearest the wall. I think I talked to them, but I'm not sure how, because my tongue felt so swollen I'm pretty sure I mumbled through every word. I doubt any of my words made any sense by that point. A series of events occurred here, and I'm not certain of their order to this day, but I'll try my best to organize them in a way that seems likely and understandable.

Him and the girl had begun to kiss and grope each other next to me while I gazed off into space. These gropes eventually made their way to me, a series of disembodied hands touching my legs, my hips, my waist. At first I didn't know what was happening, but the sensation of being touched was interesting and foreign. I didn't stop it, and eventually the hands were in my pants, both hers and his. Then there were fingers inside of me, both hers and his. It felt good at first, and I held the hands in place with my own, trying to will the feelings of numbness from reaching my core by these nice sensations. That didn't work though. The good feeling quickly faded into realization, and I suddenly became very scared and panicked. I didn't want to have sex with him. I knew that. I didn't mind her honestly, but the idea of him inside of me just disgusted me. This brief moment of sanity came with the realization my pants were being pulled down by her. I struggled to keep her from pulling them down all the way, my fingers refusing to clench properly, my arms hardly working, my head so heavy on my neck I could only lull my head to the side. Talking was beyond me. That was something real people who were alive did, and I was dead to the world. Maybe I managed to mumble a 'stop' or 'no' or maybe she realized I was high out of my mind, but she finally relented and stopped. They continued on by themselves, I'm vaguely aware of her giving him a blow job right beside me. I didn't care about anything. My breathing had become more shallow now, I felt like a puddle.

Things become more funny and fuzzy here. Most of what took place was inside my head, and not actual physical occurrences. I obviously went on some sort of crazy mental adventure, but in reality I'm pretty sure I was just drooling onto my pillow, staring off into space. Eventually they sort of shook me back into existence, and tell me it's time for them to head home, their friends are back with the truck. I wave them off as best as I can, maybe I even got up to lock the door behind them. All I remember is being back on my shitty futon floor mat, and laying in front of my laptop.

This was the most pivotal moment of that night, and one of the most memorable feelings in my entire life so far. I realized I was going to die. There was no way I could feel this way, this hopeless and out of control and not die. It was a terrifying, inevitable realization. I'd done all I could, I couldn't vomit any more, in my mind I'd already passed the threshold that meant I wasn't ODing. I laid in the dark, illuminated by my laptop screen, my music program playing 'Lullaby' by Assemblage 23 (please listen to it to fully grasp) on repeat. I had my phone next to me, but I didn't want to call anyone. I didn't feel I was worth bothering someone. I thought of how my death would effect the people around me, about how sad or disappointed they'd be, but gradually I realized it wouldn't matter. I would finally be dead, and nothing would matter any more. My life didn't have significance. I was just another girl, crying herself to a sleep she wouldn't wake up from. It would be the most peaceful sleep I'd ever have. I wouldn't feel anymore pain or heartache, I'd leave behind my childish fears and break into some other existence or lack of existence where everything would be silent and beautiful. My family would be sad, but they would eventually get over my death, and life would carry on without me. Every weight in the world was lifted from my chest. More than anything else of my whole experience I remember feeling the most incredible peace of mind, that everything would be okay, that I didn't have to fear death.
More than anything else of my whole experience I remember feeling the most incredible peace of mind, that everything would be okay, that I didn't have to fear death.
I would let it embrace me, and I closed my eyes, ready to embrace it.


I wake up. My phone is ringing. The room is pitch black except for the bright tiny screen. It's what, 4AM? I grope for it, answer it, my tongue still swollen, my throat so dry my 'hello' is more like a growl than a greeting. A polite but firm voice meets my ears, they're asking if I am Massive Attack and if I know 'that one guy' AKA my ex who had been over here a few hours ago. I say yes, of course I do, or mumble it to the best of my ability. I don't know whats going on, or who this person is. They ask if the ex was at my house tonight between ???-??? unintelligible times. I say yes, of course he was. Maybe I finally ask what is going on, or maybe he just finally explains himself, but I'm talking to a police officer. My ex and his gf have been pulled over under the suspicion that he has been out with a paintball gun shooting peoples cars and houses, someone reported the truck he's driving. I'm mostly silent, only answering necessary questions, because my brain is still fried, but there's nothing more for the cop to ask me. I realize that the ex's friends must have gone out with his truck and shot up houses (turns out they did) with the paintball gun while he was here with me. I might have hung up on him eventually. I was amazed to even still be alive. I curled up properly and went back to sleep happily.

Exp Year: 2007ExpID: 96898
Gender: Female 
Age at time of experience: 17
Published: Aug 13, 2022Views: 2,088
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DXM (22) : General (1), Difficult Experiences (5), Health Problems (27), Sex Discussion (14), Relationships (44), Small Group (2-9) (17)

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