Quote:

I really should be observed ignored.

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Quote:

At some point I ended up in the bathroom looking at myself in the mirror. What I saw reflecting was a really scary looking guy with long scraggly hair. It was like what you might see in a movie of a psychopath murderer with wild eyes. Looking at that I began to believe that I had killed someone or maybe tortured and raped and killed someone. I'm a pussycat in real life. I'd never hurt a fly, let alone rape or kill anyone, but looking in the mirror that night I was sure I had. Then I saw blood all over my hands and on the counter and I think body parts on the floor. I freaked out. I felt intense remorse because I knew I would never hurt anyone, even in that crazy state, so the only conclusion I could reach was that the drugs made me lose consciousness and somehow I had actually killed and dismembered someone. I was so sad and wondered how I could ever apologize to the family of the person.

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Diploid said:

Only once. That was back when I was on my all out last resort search for god. I'd already looked everywhere else. Church, intense meditation, running, yoga, Buddhism, Satanism, Gita, Bible, Koran, prayer, auto-asphyxia, shit even Scientology.

I tried everything and looked everywhere. Nothing had panned out so far. This would turn out to be the last few months of my search and I was prepared to do whatever it took.

I was tripping alone on a cocktail of mushrooms, acid, meth, weed, MDMA, other stuff, and a hit of nitrous oxide and oxygen sent me off the deep end. For maybe 45 minutes I was completely delusional. Completely.

I saw "patterns" that weren't there but at the time I deeply believed them. I had effects similar to paranoid schizophrenia. My place has three floors and a spiral staircase in one corner and a regular staircase on the other side. I looked at the ceiling fan and saw it going clockwise then I paired that with the staircase spiraling clockwise, and I attached some deep mystical significance to that that and it freaked me out. I was convinced I had discovered some deep aspect of reality that is normally not seen. A million other crazy ideas. I sobbed like a baby and curled up in terror in the closet. I ran through the house turning on all the lights for fear of the dark.

I thought "the universe" was out to get me. I was terrified like I've never been before. Now sober it all seems silly but man it was so real at the time.

At one point I thought that if I closed my eyes, I would die and my soul would go into a place where I would experience the most intense pain possible, akin to being skinned alive or being burned alive. And it would never stop. I would never stop existing in that state of pain for all eternity. I would just suffer and suffer and suffer. For billion, trillions of years. And there would be no way for me to even kill myself to end it. I would be trapped in that forever. The pain would never diminish.

I almost ran out of the house screaming but some shred of rationality, of which I fortunately have a lot, told me not to just yet. That little bit of rational me wanted confirmation of all that was happening before I would completely accepted it. I needed more evidence first. It's what saved me from possible harm running around outdoors.

At some point I ended up in the bathroom looking at myself in the mirror. What I saw reflecting was a really scary looking guy with long scraggly hair. It was like what you might see in a movie of a psychopath murderer with wild eyes. Looking at that I began to believe that I had killed someone or maybe tortured and raped and killed someone. I'm a pussycat in real life. I'd never hurt a fly, let alone rape or kill anyone, but looking in the mirror that night I was sure I had. Then I saw blood all over my hands and on the counter and I think body parts on the floor. I freaked out. I felt intense remorse because I knew I would never hurt anyone, even in that crazy state, so the only conclusion I could reach was that the drugs made me lose consciousness and somehow I had actually killed and dismembered someone. I was so sad and wondered how I could ever apologize to the family of the person.

All this is just barely touching on the ride I took that night. There's lots more and nothing I could write does it justice.

The next time the "endless pain" thing hit me, I reached out to logic and called the bluff, so to speak. I resolved to close my eyes, triggering the eternity of pain. I was almost shitting myself as I tensed up and braced for the onslaught of pain for all eternity. Half believing it was going to happen and half logic-bound that it was all in my head, I shut my eyes and screamed expecting the pain to start. Imagine my relief when nothing happened.

After about 45 minutes (I think) I started to recover and had brief spells of lucidity for a few seconds before the crazy started again. I was able to lock into the fact that these brief lucid spells seemed to be getting longer each time, and that gave me hope that all the horrors around me were just in my head and would go away eventually.

An hour later I was fully back.

That was the only "bad trip" I've ever had and I have to say it was by far the most amazing and interesting now in hindsight.

I tried to reproduce the effect again many times since, but I've never been able to. That experience gave me a deep empathy for people with mental illness and especially schizophrenics. How terrible it must be to live in that state all the time. I had less than an hour ride and it was unbearable.

Wow, writing this brings back memories.

---

Diploid said:

Only once. That was back when I was on my all out last resort search for god. I'd already looked everywhere else. Church, intense meditation, running, yoga, Buddhism, Satanism, Gita, Bible, Koran, prayer, auto-asphyxia, shit even Scientology.

I tried everything and looked everywhere. Nothing had panned out so far. This would turn out to be the last few months of my search and I was prepared to do whatever it took.

I was tripping alone on a cocktail of mushrooms, acid, meth, weed, MDMA, other stuff, and a hit of nitrous oxide and oxygen sent me off the deep end. For maybe 45 minutes I was completely delusional. Completely.

I saw "patterns" that weren't there but at the time I deeply believed them. I had effects similar to paranoid schizophrenia. My place has three floors and a spiral staircase in one corner and a regular staircase on the other side. I looked at the ceiling fan and saw it going clockwise then I paired that with the staircase spiraling clockwise, and I attached some deep mystical significance to that that and it freaked me out. I was convinced I had discovered some deep aspect of reality that is normally not seen. A million other crazy ideas. I sobbed like a baby and curled up in terror in the closet. I ran through the house turning on all the lights for fear of the dark.

I thought "the universe" was out to get me. I was terrified like I've never been before. Now sober it all seems silly but man it was so real at the time.

At one point I thought that if I closed my eyes, I would die and my soul would go into a place where I would experience the most intense pain possible, akin to being skinned alive or being burned alive. And it would never stop. I would never stop existing in that state of pain for all eternity. I would just suffer and suffer and suffer. For billion, trillions of years. And there would be no way for me to even kill myself to end it. I would be trapped in that forever. The pain would never diminish.

I almost ran out of the house screaming but some shred of rationality, of which I fortunately have a lot, told me not to just yet. That little bit of rational me wanted confirmation of all that was happening before I would completely accepted it. I needed more evidence first. It's what saved me from possible harm running around outdoors.

At some point I ended up in the bathroom looking at myself in the mirror. What I saw reflecting was a really scary looking guy with long scraggly hair. It was like what you might see in a movie of a psychopath murderer with wild eyes. Looking at that I began to believe that I had killed someone or maybe tortured and raped and killed someone. I'm a pussycat in real life. I'd never hurt a fly, let alone rape or kill anyone, but looking in the mirror that night I was sure I had. Then I saw blood all over my hands and on the counter and I think body parts on the floor. I freaked out. I felt intense remorse because I knew I would never hurt anyone, even in that crazy state, so the only conclusion I could reach was that the drugs made me lose consciousness and somehow I had actually killed and dismembered someone. I was so sad and wondered how I could ever apologize to the family of the person.

All this is just barely touching on the ride I took that night. There's lots more and nothing I could write does it justice.

The next time the "endless pain" thing hit me, I reached out to logic and called the bluff, so to speak. I resolved to close my eyes, triggering the eternity of pain. I was almost shitting myself as I tensed up and braced for the onslaught of pain for all eternity. Half believing it was going to happen and half logic-bound that it was all in my head, I shut my eyes and screamed expecting the pain to start. Imagine my relief when nothing happened.

After about 45 minutes (I think) I started to recover and had brief spells of lucidity for a few seconds before the crazy started again. I was able to lock into the fact that these brief lucid spells seemed to be getting longer each time, and that gave me hope that all the horrors around me were just in my head and would go away eventually.

An hour later I was fully back.

That was the only "bad trip" I've ever had and I have to say it was by far the most amazing and interesting now in hindsight.

I tried to reproduce the effect again many times since, but I've never been able to. That experience gave me a deep empathy for people with mental illness and especially schizophrenics. How terrible it must be to live in that state all the time. I had less than an hour ride and it was unbearable.

Wow, writing this brings back memories.

---

I could tell all this from your posts.

Icelander said:

Diploid said:

Only once. That was back when I was on my all out last resort search for god. I'd already looked everywhere else. Church, intense meditation, running, yoga, Buddhism, Satanism, Gita, Bible, Koran, prayer, auto-asphyxia, shit even Scientology.

I tried everything and looked everywhere. Nothing had panned out so far. This would turn out to be the last few months of my search and I was prepared to do whatever it took.

I was tripping alone on a cocktail of mushrooms, acid, meth, weed, MDMA, other stuff, and a hit of nitrous oxide and oxygen sent me off the deep end. For maybe 45 minutes I was completely delusional. Completely.

I saw "patterns" that weren't there but at the time I deeply believed them. I had effects similar to paranoid schizophrenia. My place has three floors and a spiral staircase in one corner and a regular staircase on the other side. I looked at the ceiling fan and saw it going clockwise then I paired that with the staircase spiraling clockwise, and I attached some deep mystical significance to that that and it freaked me out. I was convinced I had discovered some deep aspect of reality that is normally not seen. A million other crazy ideas. I sobbed like a baby and curled up in terror in the closet. I ran through the house turning on all the lights for fear of the dark.

I thought "the universe" was out to get me. I was terrified like I've never been before. Now sober it all seems silly but man it was so real at the time.

At one point I thought that if I closed my eyes, I would die and my soul would go into a place where I would experience the most intense pain possible, akin to being skinned alive or being burned alive. And it would never stop. I would never stop existing in that state of pain for all eternity. I would just suffer and suffer and suffer. For billion, trillions of years. And there would be no way for me to even kill myself to end it. I would be trapped in that forever. The pain would never diminish.

I almost ran out of the house screaming but some shred of rationality, of which I fortunately have a lot, told me not to just yet. That little bit of rational me wanted confirmation of all that was happening before I would completely accepted it. I needed more evidence first. It's what saved me from possible harm running around outdoors.

At some point I ended up in the bathroom looking at myself in the mirror. What I saw reflecting was a really scary looking guy with long scraggly hair. It was like what you might see in a movie of a psychopath murderer with wild eyes. Looking at that I began to believe that I had killed someone or maybe tortured and raped and killed someone. I'm a pussycat in real life. I'd never hurt a fly, let alone rape or kill anyone, but looking in the mirror that night I was sure I had. Then I saw blood all over my hands and on the counter and I think body parts on the floor. I freaked out. I felt intense remorse because I knew I would never hurt anyone, even in that crazy state, so the only conclusion I could reach was that the drugs made me lose consciousness and somehow I had actually killed and dismembered someone. I was so sad and wondered how I could ever apologize to the family of the person.

All this is just barely touching on the ride I took that night. There's lots more and nothing I could write does it justice.

The next time the "endless pain" thing hit me, I reached out to logic and called the bluff, so to speak. I resolved to close my eyes, triggering the eternity of pain. I was almost shitting myself as I tensed up and braced for the onslaught of pain for all eternity. Half believing it was going to happen and half logic-bound that it was all in my head, I shut my eyes and screamed expecting the pain to start. Imagine my relief when nothing happened.

After about 45 minutes (I think) I started to recover and had brief spells of lucidity for a few seconds before the crazy started again. I was able to lock into the fact that these brief lucid spells seemed to be getting longer each time, and that gave me hope that all the horrors around me were just in my head and would go away eventually.

An hour later I was fully back.

That was the only "bad trip" I've ever had and I have to say it was by far the most amazing and interesting now in hindsight.

I tried to reproduce the effect again many times since, but I've never been able to. That experience gave me a deep empathy for people with mental illness and especially schizophrenics. How terrible it must be to live in that state all the time. I had less than an hour ride and it was unbearable.

Wow, writing this brings back memories.

---

I could tell all this from your posts.

---

redgreenvines said:

geeze dip, moderation would make a bit of sense, no?

all the same you sure did explore the realm of delusion...

"delusion" is one of those 3 karmic root words, along with "hatred" and "greed"
and in that way stands for any intentional error in thinking or memory.

probably the o.p. means the term delerium, a term that extends a brief taste of waking dreams and hallucinations into persistent alternate reality.  It could be an intended direction that a person chooses (like dip's story illustrates, with each additional drug added to his mix there is the delusional choice - one which has been repeated)

delerium is the last station of consciousness before blacking out and amnesia sets in, and it is the first station on the return from amnesia as well.

but episodes of delerium or delerious thoughts and dreamed up realities can penetrate our waking lives: my ex-wife who is now clearly a schizophrenic narcissist used to get messages from god.

it was horrifying

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dustinthewind13 said:

What made you turn into an atheist?

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