DOSE:

60 mg

oral

AMT

BODY WEIGHT:

140 lb

History:

My quest for being high began with a toke on a joint. From there followed DXM, salvia, calamus, ayahuasca, sceletium, ecstasy, amphetamines, and DMT. I must be honest, while I did sometimes have the most wonderous and elevating of revelations, my substance abuse more than often led to painful meloncholy. At the time of this AMT experiment, I was 800 miles away from family and friends, attending college in New Jersey. Neglecting my studies, I took up the quest for other mindstates with great fervor and routinely met with them with interesting consequences.

Being new to the East, I quickly developed an inferiority complex and the sense that, through my interactions with the natives, I was contending with intellects beyond my range of understanding. The combined efforts of THC, ephedrine, and occasionally DMT, added to an emerging paranoia that continued for my entire stay in the East (I was there for two semesters). This paranoia culminated with my multiple AMT sessions and entailed the feeling that I was somehow an experiment, that everybody else had information and knew something that I didn't, that they were 'playing around' with the kid from the Midwest.

Anybody familiar with paranoia knows of the traps, the incessant cycles, the insane scrutinization of every minute perception, and the irrational belief that every coincidental action has something to do with you. Why oh why then, considering my state, would one consume a psychedelic that lasts more than 12 hours? I do not know.

Dosage:

Varied. Small/large intranasul doses; dissolved in water/alcohol soln.

Setting:

College campus. Dorm room. In the labryinth of tunnels connecting the housing buildings.

Experience:

I ordered AMT a week before it was scheduled by the DEA. The package arrived promptly and it wasn't long before I had a prime opportunity to open it and inspect the contents. The first thing I noticed was the smell, not bad at all. Taking a knife, I scooped out a small pile of AMT and separated that pile into smaller piles. I then snuffed one of the small piles. Being an impatient bloke, I snorted a couple more piles (it was later observed that the entire amount was probably around 5-10mg). This was done on the day I had to go to the DMV to see about getting a new license.

The first effects were noticed about 20 minutes later while I was driving; they were manifested as a genuine, happy feeling. Euphoric.

[Erowid Note: Driving while intoxicated, tripping, or extremely sleep deprived is dangerous and irresponsible because it endangers other people. Don't do it!]

I looked at the van in front of me and observed the spare tire mounted on the back. The roundness of the tire led me into a curious thought stream about the origin of the wheel that lasted until I parked my car. Nothing special at the DMV. I got to the dorm feeling better and better with each passing minute. Besides the good feeling, there were barely perceivable shiftings of the visual field. Snuffing this amount (~10mg), the experience lasted about 8 hours. The overall feeling was one of false bravado.

For my second experiment, I dissolved the whole 500mg into an alcohol solution, measured the appropriate amount and consumed ~60mg.

40 min: As I began to feel the effects coming on, I went to see what my neighbor was doing. As usual, he was sitting at his computer. We started talking. I felt more open and able to verbalize my thoughts with a lot more feeling. Our conversation continued as the effects increased.

I looked at the valences above the curtains and they pulled away from me considerably. I was beginning to notice electric lines undulating into intricate patterns of wavelike forms. I decided to tell this guy, who was not really a friend, that I was on a psychedelic substance. He told me that he was unable to tell and I made the mistake of saying, 'I would not even have come over if I had not taken this substance.' That was something I will reget forever. It led me to look at who I really was, who I had become. I made some remarks that I thought were intelligent and humorous at the time, but were actually embarrassing and demeaning.

1.5hr: With my eyes closed, there were boundless tryptamine images. They were not seen with awesome clarity, however. They seemed like they were being restrained by some force and remained somewhat fogged and hidden by the regular darkness beneath the eyelids. I did not feel connected with the images, there was no empathy with them.

2.5hr: I remembered that there was a punk show going on in our student lounge. Consequently, the lounge was in the basement and to get there required going through a maze of tunnels that connected each of the housing units. I made my way down to the tunnels, not really taking into account what anybody would say if I arrived in my odd, dilated state (people were already beginning to know me as being strange). On my way there, I stopped at the laundry facility which is located in a corner in the tunnels. I started having second thoughts about going to the punk show, and then proceeded to do some martial arts moves in the middle the laundry mat. Btw, the laundry mat was empty. There were two doors that allowed access to the laundry mat and one was propped open slightly to let the heat out. As I was doing my flying kicks, jumps, acrobatics, and other stupid antics, a student suddenly walked by the laundry room. I clearly saw that he had seen me, and that he had hurried on. Not really knowing what I was doing, I started after him.

This was the scene: He is walking briskly through the tunnels and I am closely walking briskly after him in a menacing way. He finally dashes through a door and up the stairs. I stop in the tunnels, lean against the wall and think about the student that I had just been following. He had been wearing a suit and tie and an expensive looking leather trenchcoat. He had leather gloves on and the way he walked made him seem like a very intelligent and important individual. To get an idea of how this person looked, think of an FBI agent. This is how professional I thought this student looked; in fact, I would not have thought him a student at all for it not having been that I noticed him from somewhere before. So, where had I seen him before? He looked so familiar. Then it all connected in my brain, and that was the impetus that led to an extremely paranoid state that stayed with me until I fell asleep later that night.

I had seen him before, yes. I had even spoken and hung out with him and a few others for the better part of a day when I first got to the campus. Yet, he looked completely different. The first time I had met him, he was wearing a plain, solid-colored t-shirt, jeans that were rolled up at the cuff, and black boots that were huge. He was a very loud person who could become annoying, fast. Each time I had seen him thence, he would always be with two other people (never the same people), and, as always, being loud and obnoxious. I felt that the reason he never hung out with the same people consistently was for the fact that most people could only put up with him for a certain amount of time. Anyway, I classified him as a 'people-latch' and saw him as being anything but complex.

So, when I saw this same guy in the tunnels, looking so together, so sharp, intelligent, calculating, like somebody who just came off of Wall Street.....I was immediately thrown into deep confusion. How the fuck do I integrate this idiosyncrasy? Unfortunately, in grade school I had come across the well-read book '1984,' by George Orwell. I say 'unfortunately' because the most terrifying ideals in this book have been rooted in my synapses, only to be released at the exact moment of the connection between the person in the tunnel and the doofus with whom I had a prior acquaintance with. To understand what I talking about, and for those who have never read or have forgotten '1984,' I will tell you about a scene in the book that relates to the predicament stated here.

The main character, Winston Smith, comes across an antique shop that is owned by an aging, very kind, grandfatherly man. The elderly man walks with a cane. As Winston's actions become more pronounced in their opposition to Big Brother's 'rules,' Winston asks the old man if he can rent the empty room above the shop; the old man concedes. Winston uses the room to for conjugal meetings with his girlfriend, both of which are expressly prohibited by the Government. Near the end of the book, while Winston is in bed with his girlfriend, feeling very smart and secure, his thoughts about overthrowing the Totalitarian Government are interrupted by a voice coming from a intercom hidding behind a painting that hangs in the room. Apparently, the Government had been on him for years and everything, including the antique shop with the enticing room for rent, was setup by the Government in hopes of catching Winston with his pants down, so to speak. So, in walks the old shop keeper, who know no longer looks like an old, incapable man and no longer walks with a cane. He is a member of the elite, ubiquitous Thought Police (our closest equivalent would be a classified, covert function of the CIA).

I am sorry for the boring summary of '1984,' but it was necessary in order to show how I felt. For me, the person I saw in the tunnels was a member of the 'Thought Police.' When I realized this, I rushed to my room, hid all of my drug paraphenalia and hid in bed like a little child. To this day I still have doubts as to whether that guy was really an intel sent to gather information about my actions, or whether he was just a college kid with wealthy parents.

Currently, I have been substance-free for a year and am able to conclude that my paranoidal reactions were based on the constant altering of my conciousness, and not on any factual evidence.

To those who want to try psychoactive substances:

I believe that in order to be a resilient adult, one must go through hardship and the psychedelic experience is a very efficient way to go through great mental hardship, in addition to the ecstatic states it produces. But once a person has 'gotten the message,' it is time to act on that message. Prolonged, continued use of psychedelics hindered my path to becoming an upright individual.

Exp Year: 2002	ExpID: 30869
Gender: Male
Age at time of experience: Not Given
Published: Oct 24, 2008	Views: 9,538
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AMT (7) : Various (28), Difficult Experiences (5), Retrospective / Summary (11)