DOSE:

100 ml

oral

DXM

(liquid)

BODY WEIGHT:

148 lb

This summer, co-conspirators Accidie and Lack O. Marijuana wheedled me into trying the nasty substance once more. About three weeks ago, half a 100-ml bottle of grape-flavored syrup traversed the tongue with almost ominous ease. Effects were nominal. There was a marked absence of euphoria, or even pleasure, be it music-related or otherwise. A few days later the 50-ml dregs of said bottle were used to supplement half a (100 ml) bottle of kids’ orange-flavored concoction. (Tastewise, it lands somewhere between the only moderately awful clear grape-flavored stuff and the horrendously awful .) Active ingredient being dextromethorphan polistirex, which I would have probably avoided if not for the label’s claim that it contained, in each 5 ml, polistirex “equivalent to” 30mg dextromethorphan hydrobromide. Twice as potent! Longer-lasting! Needless to say, effects were again nominal. Or I should say, pleasurable effects were nominal, indeed non-existent. I achieved a “buzz,” but nothing more.

The character of the buzz is not alcoholic, but rather chemical. It is a little like being drunk in that I'm not up to my usual scintillating standard, my body responds sluggishly to my commands, thought processes seem dulled rather than enhanced. But nevertheless it’s not much like being drunk at all. And to my mind, not half as good. If plain old unimpaired consciousness is the sober light of day, being drunk is a warm sort of fuzzy lamp light, and being stoned on cannabis is a comfortable chair before the soft effulgence of a flickering fireplace (with the wolves and the winds howling safely outside my castle door -- okay maybe I like pot too much), well then the DXM buzz is the maddening hum of a fluorescent light in a doctor’s waiting office. Perhaps when I'm scheduled to be treated for a particularly nasty rash. In short, the buzz, such as it is, is undeniably different than boring old quotidian consciousness, but in a way that makes me long for my perspicacity back.

And yet despite these conclusive upsets, I went back once more. Last night. The long ago aforementioned 100-ml. All of it. Three spasmic chugs did the trick. With water and cracker intermissions. The goop really burns a mediciney trail down my poor esophagus. Not to mention the big exclamation mark or perhaps skull and crossbones it burns into my brain. But 300mg of DXM did nothing for me that 150mg didn’t. I was entirely unable to discern any distinction between first and second plateaus. (Perhaps I didn’t do enough -- I’m 150 lbs -- to reach the second. Can’t say it breaks my heart.)

Some time around hour four, my bowels came alive with remonstrations. What it felt like, was a huge bubble of gas slowly, arduously making its way through one or the other of my beleaguered intestines. Bloated would be a word to describe it. The discomfort seemed to swell and subside, at some times getting quite exquisitely unenjoyable. I’d say at high tide it crossed the threshold from discomfort into pain. Some prodigious flatulence eventually ensued, to my relief and amusement. I suspect some dye or flavoring or other (not to be found in the clear syrup) was the culprit. The buzz, far from lasting six hours, seemed to plateau after a couple of hours and gradually diminish over about 24 hours. Well, in fact I’ve only reached about hour 21. I imagine I’ll feel like this -- as though my brain wasn’t put back in quite the right position after the operation -- for most of the day. I bid DXM a not overly fond farewell, and wish him the best of luck in all his future endeavors.

Exp Year: 2001	ExpID: 7928
Gender: Male
Age at time of experience: Not Given
Published: Oct 5, 2020	Views: 1,043
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DXM (22) : General (1), Difficult Experiences (5), Health Problems (27), Alone (16)