This is my (long) account of my first 'true' (MDMA aside) psychedelic experience by way of Hawaiian Baby Woodrose seeds. Obligatory background info as follows..
I'm a male, weighing 60kg, and pretty scrawny. I've tried MDMA once before, and that was absolutely awesome. And I've also smoked pot for the last 2 years or so. My induction into the psychedelic mindspace had been a long time coming, having researched nearly every mind-altering substance availble on erowid.org :) I'd never been able to get my hands on any acid or shrooms down Melbourne (Australia) way, so I decided I'd have to find a close analogue. I'd bought a packet of HBW seeds from an online shop and tried a few dosages (5 and 10 seeds) but with little effect as the seeds were pretty dry/old and low in alkaloids. So for this trip I decided to up the dosage to 20 seeds, to MAKE SURE I'd get something out of it, and that I did!
The day before dosing, I crunched up the seeds and let them sit in water with some grapes in the fridge, then come 9:30 Good Friday night, I chucked in some ice-cream and cinnamon and blended it altogether. There was only a hint of 'plantness' in the taste, nothing too unbearable. I drank half of the smoothy, then mixed in half a cup of nice espresso coffee. I then managed to drink all but a few mouthfuls, feeling pretty bloated at about 10pm. I mucked about on my computer til about 11, and decided that nothing was gonna happen so I hopped into bed. I'll spare you the details of my pubescent self-pleasuring' :P but it was damn good, unlike times before.
Under my doona in bed I tried to get to sleep and had the usual random thoughts that inhibit my ability to fall asleep, but some of the thoughts I recalled or visualed with a greater sense of concentration; I didn't really think much of it and just went about trying to get to sleep, all the while with the notion of wanting this trip to come about.
So there I lay in bed feeling pretty tired, when I started to get body rushes starting in my legs. They felt all tingly and just damn good! I was feeling euphoric now (MDMA-like qualities), moving my body and legs about, with a big grin on my face. I felt like a kid, and was quietly laughing, making sure not to wake anyone up. All the while I didn't feel like I was 'tripping' in the typical sense, but my mind was racing with all of these distant memories, and voices talked that weren't mine but they were in my head, although this didn't bother me. I was having the time of my life!
This went on for a few hours, and then I looked around for visuals. With the aid of the full-moon-powered twilight entering my bedroom, I could clearly see a fingerprint-like pattern over my vision when I looked at my ceiling. I can faintly see this when I'm straight, but I really have to focus/concentrate.
The green LED light from my running computer was glowing and as I looked at it and turned my head, light-grey beams shone down to the floor, as the glow of the light itself broke up into tiny beads and re-arranged themselves into figures, such as an angel. I found this interesting, and got up to look for more visuals. I turned on my lamp, and looked at my plaster wall. Now this wall isn't painted and it has all these pastel-like, messed up thick stripes and splodges on it. I thought to myself 'These are cool walls. Nobody has walls like mine,' and I could actually appreciate the dodginess of the plaster (usually i'd detest it). I also felt love for those people close to me aswell, and love for myself which I thought quite unusual. Usually I'm bitter or angry, so these feelings were very welcome.
I made a few trips outside that night, to take a whiz or look up at the night sky or try to throw up a bit. I was absolutely loving being alive as I walked around and watched things in my peripheral vision jump into focus. I looked at my cats, went to my caravan and looked at my mescaline cacti, and made a trip to the bathroom aswell where I became mezmerized momentarily by a towel hanging down. My reflection in the mirror was amusing too, as I investigated my huge pupils and laughed giddily at the thought that I was tripping balls!
Pronouncing words filled me with amusement too, and I was fixated on this one word 'zanzabar' (I have no idea what it is or means). I thought it so funny just to lay in bed and say it quietly aloud to myself.
But the joy was not to last as my new lip piercing was feeling tight, it was bruised and it was annoying to the extent that I had to take it out. Things took a turn for the worse when my attempts to unscrew the slippery stud proved fruitless. I was heating up, and I could feel a cold sweat on my body. I walked to the kitchen in desperate need of water, hoping that it would refresh me as it had done earlier in the night. But the water didn't help. Saying 'zanzabar' didn't help either. Panic had gripped my body, and I could feel it throughout me. On the way back to the bathroom my sight went fuzzy and it was slowly reduced to tunnel-vision, and then just television fuzz. I thought I was fucked. I thought I was gonna die and that I'd have to tell mum & dad (who were in bed) what was happening. I made it to my sisters bedroom (at around 4am) and turned on the light, waking her up and pissing her off at the same time. I asked her to help me get this nasty lip-stud out in desperation: 'I need you to get this thing out... I'm fucked'. I sat on a chair with my head in my hands, my sister oblivious to my altered state of mind; I felt so helpless, helpless like a child. My sister told me to use rubber gloves to grip the stud, so I pulled myself together (trying not to black out) and made it to the kitchen (in complete darkness, somehow in survival mode or something) where I obtained a rubber glove and was able to remove the stud. This brought relief but only momentarily, as I had to go to the toilet to throw up. Throwing up felt good. I was even able to laugh at an eyelash that I saw in my vomit that I'd tried to get out of my mouth earlier in the night.
Back in my bedroom, my body felt so taxed and sore. I felt the grip of death, I thought I was genuinely going to die. I've never felt so close to death in my life. Now had the lip-stud incident not have happened, this feeling would never have come over me or have seemed so real. But with my lip looking so fucked, and my body feeling like absolute shit, my death felt imminent. Luckily I thought to use logic, and reminded myself that I'd taken LSA, that I wasn't really going to die, and that I should go to sleep and I'd feel better in the morning.
Laying in bed and feeling quite out of it, I managed to fall asleep a few hours later at about 7am. I woke up in the afternoon feeling so mentally and physically fucked up. I questioned my use of this psychedelic substance, and why I'd even taken it in the first place. I was extremely sore and depressed, but I knew these were only side-effects of my traumatic experience and lack of sleep. I struggled to eat full meals to renourish myself, to get myself back to normal.
A day later as I write this, I'm feeling back to normal, and in retrospect I think that my introductory psychedelic experience was a very rewarding one. I'm not bitter that my trip ended so badly. In contrast, I'm glad that I was able to hold myself together so well under the fucked up circumstances I was in (through no fault of my own), and for that I'm proud and grateful.
I also find it interesting that I was only able to throw up (and come down) AFTER getting myself into trouble with my lip-stud, so I spose you can look at it as the HBW taking me through hell to teach me something, as I've definitely learnt from this experience which I view as a very positive one (minus losing my new piercing).
Edited by OneMoreRobot3021 (04/17/06 10:04 AM)
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