DOSE:

25 mg

oral

Methoxetamine

BODY WEIGHT:

140 lb

I am consumed by an obsessive desire to capture the trip and yet every time I try to reach out for the experience, most of it eludes me. Also, sheer ineffability might hinder me in explaining the rest. A yearning for it, a gnawing curiosity, a desire to explore it further, burns in me but I fear that any subsequent experience shall overwrite this one and cause it to be lost!

At perhaps 11pm on Monday 21st March, five or six hours after my last substantial meal, I took a capsule containing thirty-five milligrams of methoxetamine. I waited in anticipation for the effects to hit, ravaged by anxieties as to whether they would at all. I then began to feel slightly heavy and a little disconnected, before I ceased to “actively” perceive music around forty-five minutes after ingestion; this confirmed to me that my state of mind was altering.

I was talking to two members of what I described at the time as the “triumvirate”, and the third had sent me her best wishes beforehand. The virtual presence of these friends was reassuring - I felt a brotherly union with and love for them, and thought fondly of the third, whose being was apparently embodied by a feather that floated in front of me at some point. Thoughts about other people largely extended only to these three individuals, and I was initially uncomfortable at the prospect of leaving the two to whom I was talking.

I then encountered what I believe was the first of several death-adjacent episodes. Most of these episodes were purely mental phenomena, but the first and most enduring of the trip was accompanied by an increase in heart rate to quite frenetic levels. Of course, that physiological change might have been illusory, but I believed it to be incontrovertibly the case at the time that death was upon me. Distressed at first, I then accepted - even embraced - the fact, and lay unalterably insensate, with an unflinching, almost rapturous grin on my face. This then passed.

I tried reflecting upon premeditated topics, but struggled with this. Instead, I found myself grappling with the validity of the trip - was it real, or just a bogus imposition of the mind? My materialist worldview could not have helped with satisfactorily resolving this struggle. I recall being worried initially as to whether there would be a "zenith" at all, and, later, whether that zenith - which I perceived to have hit - would last. These anxieties were the source of some distress, and the first - concerning validity - continues to be.

The rest of that zenith passed without major incident in a state of disconnection. My body felt extremely weak and pathetically insignificant, evidenced by an uncontrollably “elastic” and disorientated sensation I felt when trying to move. I described this general state of disconnection as “incorporeal” at the time; indeed, anything pertaining to sex seemed highly vulgar and undesirable. After terminating conversation with my friends, I lay down and felt imbued with a “tremendous warmth”. The whole feeling then was akin to a post-orgasmic afterglow.

It was in this solitude that I began to apprehend visual distortions. One notable example of this was when I seemed to perceive the peaceful face of Candide in my curtains. I felt as though the face I was viewing was simultaneously my own. I also remember following a white spot on the ceiling as it appeared to move. I described it as a “opal” and an “infinitesimal snatch in the mediocrity” - it was, or seemed to be, a mimicry of something that I had seen sober perhaps a week previously.

Concurrently, I felt as though I was an object drifting gently on a body of water. This sensation then gave way to a perception of the ceiling, or sections of it, swirling and drifting - though barely perceptibly. I remember apprehending a door ahead of me “floating upwards to infinity” - it seemed to move upwards and then fall down and begin again. The wall ahead of me seemed to suffer a similar affliction, and I remember likening it in my head - for whatever reason - to a horseman’s shield in motion.

As the intensity subsided, I came to a conclusion about one of my premeditated topics - that of aloneness. I felt at the time that I had handled the trip exceptionally well, and dispelled any idea of reliance upon others by declaring myself to be “strong” and “self-sufficient”. I can understand why I suggested this, but it contrasts markedly with the feelings of unfulfilment or incompleteness which I am enduring now. Nevertheless, the conclusion at which I had arrived was one of the few existentially significant things to come out of the experience, and one that I have tried to apply to reality since.

Towards the end of my trip, I turned off the light. To be plunged into this darkness felt strange after the aureate blue of the zenith. It felt to me as if a very long time had passed since ingestion; I was surprised to discover that this was not the case. As I lay back, it seemed that my upper half was bending backwards to meet my toes, as though to make a wheel. Strangely, the bed seemed to accommodate this and felt, for the next few moments, godly and vast and supreme against my small insignificance. The light, rubbery, elastic nature of motion persisted, and I found it difficult to walk independently when I finally rose. I tried to sleep and couldn't. At first, this was not much of a problem, for I felt at peace merely resting. After some time, though, I remember becoming very anxious about returning to "normality". I was eventually able to drift off, though my sleep was fragmented.

I woke up the next morning feeling very tired. The disorientated feeling continued for a while, and mild nausea was married to a total loss of appetite. However, I got myself in order and left the house to go to school. The coolness of the air outside was welcome, and the word “serenity” pulsated gently in my mind even though it was a nondescript, overcast morning. I felt rather detached from things. As I neared my destination, that atmospheric coolness gave way to an uncomfortable mugginess, and I began to sweat. Profuse perspiration it wasn’t, but certainly enough to upset me.

A desire to reflect alone possessed me during the first part of the day, and, by the end of it, I was feeling quite depressed (a feeling that was to intensify and continue for some days). Moreover, my sense of apathy deepened profoundly and I wanted no more than to sit, vacuous. Even now, I feel a peculiar mixture of vacuity and frustration.

One of the few things I can avow with surety at the moment is that while there is plenty I deeply desire to say, this report doesn't seem to convey much of it. Overall, the trip itself was intriguing and by and large quite pleasant, but also preludial and leaving in its trail more than a semblance of indifference and misery.

Exp Year: 2011	ExpID: 116490
Gender: Male
Age at time of experience: 18
Published: Aug 13, 2022	Views: 508
[ View PDF (to print) ] [ View LaTeX (for geeks) ] [ Swap Dark/Light ]
Methoxetamine (527) : General (1), Alone (16)