DOSE:

100 mg

oral

5-MeO-DiPT

(powder / crystals)

BODY WEIGHT:

175 lb

last night, i decided to take approx. 100 mg of 5meo diisopropyltryptamine, and there was NOTHING 'foxy' about it. i wanted to do this for the same reason that evil Kinievel wanted to jump over the grand canyon on his motercycle - because it was dangerous and it had never been done before. i thought i could handle it. i thought i had BIG balls - big enough to ride out even the the roughest trip.

i was wrong

it's now approx. 24 hours after i took the dose, and i feel like i just got back from three tours in viet-fuckin'-nam. if it weren't for the twelve pack of old miliwalkie in my fridge, i would be in a mental institution now eating haldol and cubes of green jello. there were two qualities to the experience that distinguished it from those of all other psychedelics:
1) the effects were not especially visual or auditory, even with 100mg.
2)the experience was redundant - the trip had not one peak, but two. it was as if i had divided the dose and taken the two halves several hours apart.

the 'trip' such as it were, kicked in about 60 minutes after i ingested the drug. for the first fifteen minutes, all the effects were a reflection of it's aphrodesiac properties; i noticed the sex in everytthing. the shows on my telivision, the songs on my radio and Cd player, myself. i decided to get some workl done on the book im writhing. what i've been looking for in a psychedelic is something creatively opening - something i can write with - so i put this 'foxy' stuff to the test. writing new text was out of the question, no ideas came to me. but examining the esthetics of what i had already written seemed to come easily with this drug, so i did some proofreading. it allowed me to read the story as if i were someone else - a total stranger - and in this state, i could ask: 'does this read well' 'is it entertaining' i think fiction writers could benifit from doses in the neighborhood of fifteen mg.

then the trip really took off.. not visually, but emotionally. over the course of the next thirty minutes a entered a realm of sheer terror. no visual hallucinations, little in the way of auditory distortions, just a slowly mounting feeling of terror. i started out feeling like lust, like libido, but that feeling was qwuickly swallowed up by the fear. everything i saw, everything i heard, came to me as waves of fear. all the panic switches in my mind were suddenly flipped on. color and sound were still unnaffected, but these scare waves that poured through me aquired a kind of pattern, like some kind of metaphysical morse code. a presence was speaking to me in waves of fear. the message was something like. 'i will let you live for one reason and one reason alone , so you can tell the others NEVER to come here. i could tell i was in a very empty morphic field (but for the presence) and this lent further credence to the notion that a had taken a higher dose of this drug than any other human being ever has.

i was in a world of shit. i raced to the fridge and pulled out a 12 box of old milwalkieand returned to the couch with it. i turned off the TV, because at this point all sensory input had taken the form of fear, so the less input there was, the better. i put the beer next to the phone, and weighed my options: option one. dial nine eleven and summon the cops. they would take me to an institutuion and give me drugs that would shut down my dopamine receptors and mask the fear. (and turn me into a quivering, drooling retard.) in addition the press would probably have a feild day with this, and 5meo-dipt would probably become a shcedule one controlled substance.

i didn't want to be responsible for ruining everybody's fun, so i went with option number two - alchohol. it was the closest thing i had to an anti-psychotic drug, so i killed two beers. the terror was still there and still building, so i killed two more. it took me six beers to get me drunk enough not to ignore the feeling of sheer panic within me.

over the next hour, the fear levelled off. i felt like i was at baseline again. i got up and walked around, made something to eat, and just generally wsent on with my life, but what i didn't know then was that this was just the eye of the storm. i kicked back on my couch, having eaten my supper, and leaned forward to pick up the bottle of melatonin (another tryptamine) from the coffee table. i hesitated, just before i wrapped my fingers around the bottle; another wave of fear blew through me. 'No.' i said. 'this isn't fair. i did the trip, i payed my dues, it's over!'

but it wasn't.

for the next two and a half hours, i re-experienced the effects of the drug - the panic, the fear, the conspicuous lack of visual enhancement. the terror mounted again, to the point that it bacame intolerable. i had six beers left, and i drank them all. thius time, the ethanol wasn't enough to drown out the ferar - it was still there, and so was the presence, speaking to me in fear code: 'where do you think you're going?!' it asked 'I'm not done with you!' for the next two hours, this creature proceded to bounce me off every wall in the universe

four hours later (well after sunrise) i was totally burned out, and a great deal wiser. i hope this experience will serve as an educational one. i thought i had big balls - but they weren't THAT big. thank you for your time.

Exp Year: 2000	ExpID: 174
Gender: Not Specified
Age at time of experience: Not Given
Published: Jul 13, 2000	Views: 18,118
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5-MeO-DiPT (57) : Bad Trips (6), Overdose (29), Alone (16)