DOSE:

4 hits

oral

DOB

(blotter / tab)

BODY WEIGHT:

170 lb

The following report is from my first and only experience with DOB. I would honestly try it again, but with much greater caution.

The week prior to the experience, a buddy asked if I wouldn’t mind picking his friend up and dropping him off somewhere near where we lived. It was about an hour drive there and back, but his friend offered mescaline in exchange for the ride, and I had never tried it.

After waiting outside this sketchy house for some time, he gets in the car, explains that he actually has something called DOB and that I need to be especially careful with it. I’m told the onset can take 2 - 3 hours and whatever I do, don’t eat more than 1-dose (it was on paper). He was probably lying about this part, but he said he was only going to sell it to people 1-dose at a time since he didn’t want anyone being stupid with it. However in exchange for my driving, he gave me 4.

Fast forward to the following weekend—I’m staying the night at my best friend’s house. My friend didn’t smoke or do anything illicit (alcohol at parties maybe, but that’s all…keep in mind we’re 17), but he didn’t care if I wanted to stay up all night, mostly alone, with whatever chemicals I was eating.

We wait till his parents have turned in for the night and I eat 1-dose (~ 10 pm). The next hour or so we stay in his room playing guitar, doing whatever on the computer, watching TV, etc…but I don’t feel anything. I recall being told to only eat 1-dose, but had a “go big or go home” moment and ate the other 3-doses.

I don’t know how much time had passed (couple hours at most), but the next thing I realize is sitting at my friends computer while he’s asleep in bed across the room.

I’m wearing a hoodie and notice the zipper sitting half way up my chest. I go to unzip it, but the moment my fingers make contact with the metal, it’s as if the impact makes waves that are bouncing off all the walls in the room. For a few minutes I just sit there flicking the zipper, astonished and giggly at what looks like sound waves bouncing off everything. The momentary impact of my finger on the metal would ring out for several seconds. The echos around the room seemed to register as if I was listening through a different set of ears. It was like hearing taps in an an echoic chamber, but the sound was bypassing my ears and going straight to my head.

The next couple hours are hard to describe. Only brief periods consolidated to memory.

I was listening to the new Serj Tankian (System of a Down, vocalist) album on MySpace when things started getting really weird. As it went through the autoplay, and even when I restarted songs, I was convinced that all the words and music were happening inside me, and my subconscious was spilling over. Next, I became fixated on this electronic, kind of Egyptian and Buddhist sounding song called Oasis of Light. I played it over and over just feeling everything about myself dissolve.

It was now around 5 am. I’m still listening to music, but my fixation has shifted to the changing minutes on my phone. I find that I can perfectly time how long for a minute to pass without any counting. I could look at 5:05, set my phone down, and then the exact time I thought it would be 5:06, I’d click the clock on and the time would change to the next minute. This happened for about 45 minutes.

During this time, I became more and more aware that with each passing minute, there was an entire life that was going from birth to death, but they all connected by location. The most vivid transition was on the beach. I had lived an entire life, but my final moments were of myself passing away in the sand. When the minute clicked over, I was now a baby being birthed into the sand.

This was all okay for a while, but as the minutes passed, the load of death and rebirth became heavier and heavier. All I wanted was out.

There was one thing perpetuating this eternal existence. The clock that ends life. The clock that begins life. The clock in my hand.

I flip it open and snap it into two pieces. I take the top screen half and snap that into two pieces. I take the bottom half and try to snap it in two, but the casing is much more durable and a sharp metal piece from around the battery slices my thumb open. I stop trying to break it to pieces, but I’m completely unaware of the injury. All I know is there’s something very unusual about having these ‘things’ (hands) in front of me, and my thumb has a slightly itchy sensation. I notice the cut, but I can’t make out what it is exactly. For whatever terrible reason, I start gnawing at the wound and pulling the little rough edges of flesh out further away from the slit.

At this point, I’m now bleeding a good bit. I can’t feel anything. I don’t know it’s blood. I don’t know I’m hurt. Apparently all I knew was I had some magic crayon that I could draw with. I start wiping my blood all over my friend’s computer screen. I opened the scanner on the table next to me and wiped blood all in there. I went to the bathroom and attempted what I can only describe as trying to color in the sail boat wallpaper.

Morning light starts to fill the room and realize that I’m so thirsty. Hand’t been out of the room for any kind of drink all night. So I creep down to the garage fridge and grab a Sprite. I get back upstairs, take a sip, and it is like drinking fire. The carbonation burns all the way down.

More time passes and I come back to some level on consciousness and I’m thirsty again, so I crack open my friends door and look downstairs. I see what I now know to be his dad, but at the time he looked like Waluigi. I quickly closed the door and curled up on a pallet I had made on the floor. An hour or so passed laying there.

My friend wakes up and his stirring jars me out of my trance. This is when I get my first feelings of something being wrong. I can hear him saying, “What the hell is all over my computer? …Is this peanut butter?” It takes me a while to realize what he’s talking about, but then it immediately clicks what I was painting with just a few hours earlier. I tell him what it is and he keeps his cool, but in a very “WTF is wrong with you?” kind of way.

As he’s asking me questions, I quickly realize that the only memories I have are from what happened that night. I can’t remember my friends, my school, my parents…hardly anything. My mother had just passed away 4 years prior, and I can remember asking my friend if I had a mom. Me trying to remember, plus him trying to answer my question became very distressing. I panicked a bit, but was able to calm down and just lay back on my pallet till I ‘woke up’ and my memory was restored.

I don’t think I’ve ever felt so low and disconnected. All I wanted was to go home and tell my family how much I loved them. Of course now I realize it’s early in the afternoon, my phone is broken, I’m sure my dad had been trying to reach me, and I just feel ashamed. I call from my friends phone and explained that I left my phone at Sonic the night before. All was okay. A couple hours later my friend was planning on meeting up with two girls from our school at the mall. I was really attracted to one of them and agreed to go. I don’t think I’ve ever acted like more of a weirdo. I barely said a word, kept staring off, and just felt empty all around. Finally got home and I really don’t remember what happened after that, but I was back, I was safe, and I was mostly myself.

Looking back, I find it most interesting that I was able to function with almost a dual consciousness. There was the part of me that was able to click songs on a playlist, switch to different music on a totally separate page, and handle my phone with the understanding of it being a clock. But then the other side of me was convinced that the music derived from my subconscious and the clock was somehow connected to my life. Rather than seeing hallucinations occurring around me in the physical world (though there was the typical swirling, melting, fuzzy, metallic quality to everything), I feel deep into myself and in a way that has never come close again. Don’t think I would ever like to dive that far, but it was a humbling and incredible experience to reflect on.

Also before the time of writing this report, I had never looked at the ‘Effects’ page for DOB. I now see that in the ‘Overdose’ section they list memory loss, irrational and sometime violent behavior, and the possibility of causing harm to oneself (not noticing pain?). All three of those things happened.

So if you take anything away from this, it's just to be careful, wait the proper amount of time to come up, don’t overdo it, and listen to the tips from the person providing the substance. They just might be doing you a favor.

Exp Year: 2007	ExpID: 112847
Gender: Male
Age at time of experience: 17
Published: Mar 23, 2019	Views: 2,486
[ View PDF (to print) ] [ View LaTeX (for geeks) ] [ Swap Dark/Light ]
DOB (19) : Difficult Experiences (5), Overdose (29), First Times (2), Alone (16)