DOSE:	23 mg	oral	2C-E
	1 bowl	smoked	Cannabis

BODY WEIGHT:

125 lb

If I perceive 2C-I to be psychedelic fluff, then 2C-E feels like my ass has been handed to me on a psychedelic platter.

Background: I am male, at the time of this experience 23 years old and weighing around 125 pounds. I take no prescription or over-the-counter medications, but use marijuana and yerba mate on a daily basis. I am experienced with a variety of psychedelics including mushrooms, LSD, MDMA, methylone, DMT and 5-MeO-DMT, ayahuasca-type brews, and in terms of substances similar to 2C-E I am very familiar with 2C-I and various species of Trichocereus cacti.

Substance: 2,5-dimethoxy-4-ethylphenethylamine
Dosage: 23 milligrams dissolved in alcohol to allow accurate dosing in 0.5 mg increments using the liquid measuring technique.
Previous experience & Shulgin ratings: Trials of 2C-E at 3 mg (+), 5 mg (+), 8 mg (++), 12 mg (++) and 18 mg (+++). It has been just over a year since my last experience with this substance.

I’d been feeling called to have a deep psychedelic experience, and one of my roomies was up for joining my adventure. He decided to take 20 milligrams, having no previous experience with 2C-E although he has experience with most other commonly available psychedelics.

This stuff came on fast. We were walking down the hill to grab a coffee or tea, and within twenty minutes first alerts were already kicking. The initial come-up was stimulating, and made walking pleasurable. So far the feeling was reminiscent of cactus. Everything had gained just a little more colour, and a slight fish-bowl appearance of too-sharp clarity.

We ran into a few friendly faces by the coffee shop, and stopped to chat as I grabbed a chai mate. However standing around talking was kind of uncomfortable. I was becoming very aware of the “weirdness” of social interaction. Onwards! We continued down to the river, to where there is this jutting concrete ledge on which one can sit and watch the river flow, past the towering office buildings of the city core.

There were a couple kids sitting smoking dope on the ledge, its known as a good local smoke spot. We chatted and they shared a little of their ganja and hashish with us, saying that the weed was sourced from a local medicinal marijuana society. Unfortunately the stuff was shwaggy; poorly trimmed, badly dried and probably not flushed prior to harvest. We felt a little sorry, if this is the kind of green medicinal users are subjected to. Our city is quite conservative, and so the suppliers of medicinal marijuana have to operate much stealthier than in some other places.

Shwaggy or not, the weed had kicked the 2C-E up a notch. We mutually decided without speaking that now was a good time to leave, before these kids started to notice something was “different” about us. As soon as we were walking again in a homewards direction, the effects started to ramp up steeply. I went from 0 to 60 in about a block and a half, with no signs of the come-on slacking up.

Colour shifting began to be noticeable, especially people’s faces which would turn various shades of dark, splotchy red before my eyes. The pavement under our feet cycled through earthy shades of brown, red and purple. We were walking faster now… driven by that fiendish phenethylamine energization.

We took a detour through a local park on the way back home, feeling that a little time in nature would be nice despite the thickening cloud cover. A group of asian men dressed up for taking wedding photos in the park came clambering up, laughing and giggling like school girls as we settled on a patch of grassy hillside. Again the feeling of “weirdness” inherent in social interactions hit me. There was a sense of vast separation between us and them, a gap not easily bridged. It was now only an hour since dosing!

My roomie had just come back from Burning Man, where he had worked four hours a day doing reiki and energy healing sessions. He’s very good at staying centered and present no matter what’s going on. Yet even he commented that “It can be kind of overwhelming, can’t it?” I could only agree. I was loosing my fucking mind. The familiar feeling of phlegm building up in my thoat, a physical reaction as as the fear took hold. I kept reminding myself, that this is what I wanted. This is what I had asked for. Accept it.

The turmoil in my stomach became too much and I vomited in the bushes. Some stormy weather was moving in, so when I was through with purging we beat a hasty retreat home. Crossing a major highway to reach our destination, the cars seemed to speed by at supersonic velocities. I thought about how we were walking a mere three feet from death. A woman was crossing the opposite way from us, and looking at her face I experienced severe colour shifting again. At first her face appeared swollen, red and puffy, then it would become thin and pasty as if drained of blood. Everything that I looked at was vibrating too, an effect similar to watching a fluorescent light that is giving out. I was feeling pretty anxious.

We finally made it home, and I spent a few moments lying on the grass in the back yard, trying to figure what to do with myself in this mindstate. It started to rain and I dragged my sorry, aching, twitching body inside. My roomie brought me a thick comforter, hoping to ease my shaking and shivering. Though I quickly had to abandon my nest, and make my way to the porcelain alter for another purge. Drenched in sweat and twitching by the end.

As soon as I had wrapped up again, my friend Dean drifted through the door, blown in by the stormy weather. He’s a good friend of mine, and has seen me in many a twisted state of consciousness, so he took me tripping balls in stride.

There was this feeling, building in the pit of my stomach, or around my solar plexus. An intense, powerful vibration. Like the juddering and roar of a twin-prop plane inside me. I’ve been here before… twice while candyflipping this type of feeling had come over me, overwhelming me, nearly paralyzing my muscles. The third time around, at least I knew what was happening but it was no less overwhelming as a result.

The vibration builds, and builds, until my whole body in tingling pins-and-needles. Like my whole body has fallen asleep. My fingers have become clumsy and cumbersome, and I have to concentrate on letting the energy flow through me. Letting it flow through me, and flexing my hands so that they don’t clench up entirely. At this point I have no feelings of control over my body. My breath is ragged and raw but I can’t seem to calm myself. My roomie is holding me tightly from behind, keeping me sitting semi-upright. Dean grasps my hand, saying “It’s okay Papy, we are here for you!”

Eventually the peak passed, and the energy tremor broke. I was in control of my breathing and my body again, albeit still really fucking tripped out. I kept falling into this dissociative, dream-like state where I was still consciously aware of what was being said around me, but my thoughts were way the fuck down the corridors of my mind somewhere. I would see incredibly vivid imagery, more vivid and complex CEVs than I’ve experienced on any drug, save perhaps Salvia and DMT.

Dan handed me a piece of green chrysocrase crystal, which had a very soothing effect to hold and look at. Green was dominating my trip, whenever I opened my eyes I would notice green objects in the environment, still colour shifting but bright and sparkling.

As for some of the CEVs: With eyes shut and holding the green stone, I found myself in some kind of hot-springs environment. Round blue pools filled with steaming, slightly sulphurous smelling water, and cute but vacant looking blonds in tight bathing suits milling around. It was like I had astral-projected into a party at the playboy mansion. There was a feeling of fakeness and superficiality to what I was seeing. When I told Dean what I was seeing, and that I didn’t really want to be around the “bunnies”, he remarked that he usually gives this stone to pretty blonds. Perhaps I was picking up their residual energy. Or maybe I was just really tripped out.

Again with eyes closed, I could hear my roomie and Dean discussing different crystals, talking about their colours. In my mind I was experiencing a three dimensional, meaning-oriented and touchy-feely emotion-containing visual landscape. It was a little bit like drifting in a big sea of kelp, in terms of the colours and how everything was gently moving and swaying. I heard my roomie say, “it looks like Papy is asleep.” At which point, with a conscious effort, I pulled myself out of the involving visuals, opening my eyes and denying that I was asleep. Just really tripped out, still.

Every once in a while a tingling electric shiver would travel through my body. A little like the “rushing” sensation induced by MDMA, except it would only last a second or two. These were the only “pleasurable” feelings I got from 2C-E. The rest of the trip had a tone of emotional neutrality, or even darkness.

Throughout the whole experience I strangely felt really hungry. I felt a strong affinity to Raoul Duke’s attorney in Fear and Loathing:
“I have a powerful lust for red salmon.”
“Goddamn mescaline… why do they have to make it so goddamn pure?”

Finally maybe eight hours after dosing I had recovered enough to actually cook some food. There was no salmon in the house, but the idea of potato wedges roasted in olive oil and rosemary was very appealing. My sense of taste was definitely heightened, though my appetite a little blunted. A few other roomies and my girlfriend had come over, and we shared the platter of potato wedges between us.

Around eleven hours after dosing I retired to bed. My body felt drained, worn, and overexerted. Mentally I was in a very clear and honest state, and it was comforting to communicate openly with my girl. Sex was enjoyable but not enhanced at this stage of the experience.

I slept fitfully but felt pretty good the next day. I felt clear with my intentions, and was glad I had gone through the experience regardless of it being a little challenging. As always, I reflected, I got the experience I needed… not the one I wanted.

Part of me thinks, if I take 2C-E again, I should reduce the dose. Maybe 15 milligrams would provide a more comfortable experience? The other half of me is tempted to take thirty milligrams in a safe and secure environment, and hold on. Regardless, it will probably be several months or longer before I sample this substance again. It is not in any way a recreational experience, but instead a powerful tool for exploring consciousness. My respects to Alexander Shulgin for his work on this and other therapeutic compounds.

Love

Exp Year: 2008	ExpID: 83446
Gender: Male
Age at time of experience: 23
Published: Jun 30, 2010	Views: 20,610
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2C-E (137) : Difficult Experiences (5), Small Group (2-9) (17)