whatami
Rising Star
Hello Nexus,
I'm glad to see the site is back! I've been anxiously awaiting the opportunity to write this post and finally the time has come. You haven't seen me post before as I've been mainly an observer around here. I had a cataclysmic experience on changa (10x caapi leaf, DMT, 1:1) and I thought it important to share; mainly, I am wondering if others have experienced this sort of intensity and if they have returned to psychedelics afterwards.
I've been experiencing some very weird, constant (all day, everyday) and unpleasant (but bearable) physical sensations which I now take to be symptoms of kundalini overload. I feel, at all times, a pressure/tension/energy around my head, especially at the brow. The sensation is always changing and I find it difficult to accurately explain. I first noticed it after a mescaline cactus extract experience -- I would always feel the tension during my mescaline experiences, but one time it stayed; it was very mild at the time -- I figured it would go away, but it only grew in intensity. I was taking mescaline extracts (from various cacti) once every other week and the tension just seemed to become stronger. LSD also seemed to have the same effect on the tension. After a pure DMT experience, I would often feel a sort of ache around my brow (the location of the third eye).
So around September/October, I consciously decided (for spirituality/meditation/medicinal purposes) to smoke cannabis all throughout the day -- I was (and still am) unemployed so this didn't interfere with any responsibilities. The cannabis would allow me to push the tension in my head around and provided immediate relief -- but when I hadn't smoked in quite some time the tension would feel more harsh. I took to smoking Salvia in the nights -- I would mix a regular strength leaf with cannabis and this would provide a very interesting introspective visionary experience and I recall it providing some relief from the tension as well.
One night this past January, I had a Salvia experience in which I felt that I was "short" somehow of attaining the key to perhaps unlocking this tension. I was also obsessed with enlightenment at the time; I figured that this tension was a hurdle that I would have to overcome to achieve enlightenment. I resolved immediately after this experience that I would finally be brave and blow myself away with a strong dose of changa, which was, for me 100mg (so 50mg of DMT, 50mg of 10x caapi leaf). Previous to this I had only done, at most, 60mg and that lead to some pretty intense experiences; these experiences almost always began with a sense of terror/nausea but then, at some point, they would morph into a peaceful, beautiful state. And so, I was softened up by the salvia/cannabis (say 10-15 minutes after smoking it), and in a couple of more minutes I was in my room, weighing out and loading up the 100mg dose into my vapor genie. A couple of times I wanted to nix my plans, but I stood firmly and decided that I needed to do this. With a feeling of letting go, I took a leap of faith and took as big of a hit as I could. I knew that I was being brave, but I had no idea what was in store for me.
I looked down at my clothes and I recall wearing a space outfit -- shiny white arm-braces and such. "Cool...", I thought. But this only lasted for an instant. I don't know how it exactly happened but I was catapulted into pure insanity. I didn't have a body -- there was just this scene. It was infinitely clear and lucid -- no confusion, just unbearable insanity. My thinking process was completely intact, not confused/drugged in any way -- my thoughts were linear and regular. I felt more awake then ever. It felt like I was transported to this place and there was no escape. There was a black and white checkerboard background that extended infinitely; I remember a door would open and stuff would shoot out, and then it would close again; there were a lot of other things in there that I don't remember. It would happen over and over again, and it showed no signs of letting up. And I had to sit and experience every grain of it: this infinite expansion and then contraction was experienced by my mind over and over again, and I had to experience that cosmic pain each time and each time it was just as infinitely bad and unbearable, which made it feel worse because it wasn't going to stop or let up in any way; it felt like my mind was exploding over and over again and it was infinitely beyond my threshold for pain. It was Hell. I had to accept that it was completely over for me as a human being. It felt like watching the 'Game Over' screen from a video game. "So, this is enlightenment", I thought. "I can see why Alan Watts was an alcoholic. Some cosmic joke, this is. Some sense of humor. No little human monkey mind can handle this. I flew too high, like Ickarus. What did I think would happen? I sit in my room, in my mom's house and do psychedelics -- how did I think this was going to end? I'm going to need to kill myself as soon as I come down. There is no way I can live having seen/experienced this. It'll be in the papers tomorrow 'young man took too much DMT and killed himself' but I don't care, I need to kill myself." I realized that I had to kill myself, but I hadn't fully surrendered to it. Finally, once I resolved to kill myself -- and I saw myself doing it, through a little window in the scene -- the entire scene lifted. Finally I was out, and I was presented with a scene of majestic beauty, simple and serene. I remember thinking "Oh! All I need to do is surrender to it, no matter how bad it seems and it'll stop!" But as soon as I thought this, I dually became aware that I was bored with the beautiful scene and very quickly my awareness (not in my control) darted back to the previous scene. I tried surrendering again but I didn't know how. This time there was more confusion present ; I recall being yelled at by a feathered-crown wearing spirit/face that told me to kill myself now because I would do it later anyway; it also said that the plants were inside of me already (referring to the tension in my head) and that there was no escape. This went on for however long.
But suddenly it all closed up and I found myself in my room, euphoric and completely fine. I realized that I didn't have to kill myself and was overjoyed. I would guess it lasted for about 8 minutes. The head tension was still there, unfortunately (and still is today, but I'm working with it). I kept saying "WOW!" and I paced quickly around the room and would often put my hands to my head. "McKenna was right!" I wrote. "Dose high and blow yourself away. That's the only way to do it. I've been doing it wrong all of these times!" So a thought came up, "well, if you really believe it, then prove it! Load up another dose!" I looked at the vapor genie and a wave went over my body -- that familiar feeling right before a DMT launch, as if one is going to jump off of a cliff. "No", I thought. "Let's let this one settle in before we go off again." I figured that all of the suicide stuff and the yelling by the spirit was simply part of the experience, but these came to haunt me afterwards in my moments of fear for quite some time.
Now, before this experience, I thought that I had had some pretty intense experiences -- I've had a lot of breakthroughs and some terror trips on DMT/changa and taken 'heavy' doses of mescaline and LSD -- but NONE of them compare in any capacity to the intensity of this experience. Infinitely many times more intense. Infinity upon infinity. Anyways, you get my point, haha.
I haven't done a psychedelic since (I include cannabis in that category). I told my mom (I live at home) a couple of days later that I was using psychedelics and she became concerned -- I told her about my changa experience, specifically, but I insisted that it was for my growth. I have seemingly stubbornly stuck to the idea that psychedelics are for my growth -- I have questioned this many times, but my interest in them remains. I can't seem to pull myself away from them so I don't even try. I still love listening to Terence McKenna, browsing psychedelic forums and reading psychedelic literature. For some time I thought that maybe I was a masochist. Anyways, she was very upset and concerned for me; I'm pretty sure the suicide stuff was a little much for her to handle. I should note that I have never been suicidal -- sure I've tossed and turned the idea in my head, but by no means has it been a dominant theme in my life. It is only recently that I have really thought about it a lot; that is, I have been afraid of ever arriving at a similar juncture in which I think suicide necessary. So I guess I would say it is a fear of wanting to commit suicide.
Anyways, once my mom got found out she also told my brother; they both got on my case pretty hard and were questioning me in a very angry way. They weren't trying to come to an understanding and they called me names (like 'pervert' -- does that really apply here? But I digress) and asked me "how could you ever do DRUGS?!" I tried to speak with them and let them know that this was part of a spiritual search and not for fun. Their concerned energy weighed on me, and I was no longer smoking cannabis so my head tension was really harsh and had me feeling cornered. I didn't think I was going to make it out of this ordeal -- I thought I would go mad or sink back into that changa hell. They exacerbated the problem by not leaving me alone -- I don't like their presence normally, I like to distance myself from them as much as possible as I do not resonate with them on any level. It's my fault, though, for sticking around my mom's house; I really should've moved out on my own. They demanded to take me into the city to seek medical help but I just wanted to sit it out in my bed, so they called an ambulance in an effort to force me to leave, and I complied. I spent about ten days after my changa experience, before I was referred to an addiction counselor; he asked me to go to a psych ward. I was afraid of the tension in my head and I complied; I was also feeling particularly 'mystical' at the time and felt that perhaps saying 'yes' to everything was the right way to go about things. Besides, maybe they could figure out what this head tension was.
The psych ward was a big waste of time, let me tell you. The accepted psychiatric model does not have a proper way for dealing with psychedelics; subjecting yourself to it is probably the worst thing you can do, in fact. Luckily, I had had some time to cool off before I entered the psych ward, because once I got in there, my fear became worse. I had difficulty going to sleep and I was afraid that at any moment the DMT spirits would come to finish the job on me. I was afraid that I would go insane, and I regressed to a childhood fear of the dark. Luckily I didn't have to stay for very long. Once I left my fear subsided. Funny coincidence, huh?
Some background, I believe, is warranted. I've been living at home with my mom, I'm a male in my mid-twenties and college educated; I used to work in a highly paid job straight out of college but I completely hated it; I quit after a year to pursue music (something I'm not very good at, but hey, a guy can learn, right?); instead I became interested in psychedelics and lost most of my interest in playing music -- now it's just a passing hobby. I haven't been doing much of anything, recently. And the funny thing is, I'm pretty much okay with it. I'm going to move out of this house as the situation is very toxic for me, but beyond that I have no aspirations of any sort.
I'm not sure if that changa session traumatized me; if it has, I don't know it. Sometimes the fear would come that I'd really done it to myself and that I would live out an existence like one of those oft-referenced "casualties of psychedelics" (i.e. that 'i heard about this one guy that ate an entire sheet of acid and never stopped tripping' malarkey). I am, physically-speaking, at the worst point in my life right now; I don't think I can hold a job of any sort; I have difficulty relating to my friends; in fact, it doesn't feel like I've ever even had a real friend; never have I been so afraid; I have a powerful and mostly unpleasant tension/energy 24/7 that works its way around my head and as a result I often feel strung out and fatigued; I feel pretty beaten up a lot of the time. Despite all of this, I wouldn't change a thing -- it's funny to see that; I'm not depressed. And throughout all of this I don't regret swimming in the psychedelic seas; in fact, I would like to swim again, only I would like to be very sure. Terence said (I paraphrase) "Nobody said it was going to be easy, being a bi-pedal primate, but I do submit that it is manageable."
I post this here to receive your collective love and wisdom.
Thank you for reading, I love you all.
I'm glad to see the site is back! I've been anxiously awaiting the opportunity to write this post and finally the time has come. You haven't seen me post before as I've been mainly an observer around here. I had a cataclysmic experience on changa (10x caapi leaf, DMT, 1:1) and I thought it important to share; mainly, I am wondering if others have experienced this sort of intensity and if they have returned to psychedelics afterwards.
I've been experiencing some very weird, constant (all day, everyday) and unpleasant (but bearable) physical sensations which I now take to be symptoms of kundalini overload. I feel, at all times, a pressure/tension/energy around my head, especially at the brow. The sensation is always changing and I find it difficult to accurately explain. I first noticed it after a mescaline cactus extract experience -- I would always feel the tension during my mescaline experiences, but one time it stayed; it was very mild at the time -- I figured it would go away, but it only grew in intensity. I was taking mescaline extracts (from various cacti) once every other week and the tension just seemed to become stronger. LSD also seemed to have the same effect on the tension. After a pure DMT experience, I would often feel a sort of ache around my brow (the location of the third eye).
So around September/October, I consciously decided (for spirituality/meditation/medicinal purposes) to smoke cannabis all throughout the day -- I was (and still am) unemployed so this didn't interfere with any responsibilities. The cannabis would allow me to push the tension in my head around and provided immediate relief -- but when I hadn't smoked in quite some time the tension would feel more harsh. I took to smoking Salvia in the nights -- I would mix a regular strength leaf with cannabis and this would provide a very interesting introspective visionary experience and I recall it providing some relief from the tension as well.
One night this past January, I had a Salvia experience in which I felt that I was "short" somehow of attaining the key to perhaps unlocking this tension. I was also obsessed with enlightenment at the time; I figured that this tension was a hurdle that I would have to overcome to achieve enlightenment. I resolved immediately after this experience that I would finally be brave and blow myself away with a strong dose of changa, which was, for me 100mg (so 50mg of DMT, 50mg of 10x caapi leaf). Previous to this I had only done, at most, 60mg and that lead to some pretty intense experiences; these experiences almost always began with a sense of terror/nausea but then, at some point, they would morph into a peaceful, beautiful state. And so, I was softened up by the salvia/cannabis (say 10-15 minutes after smoking it), and in a couple of more minutes I was in my room, weighing out and loading up the 100mg dose into my vapor genie. A couple of times I wanted to nix my plans, but I stood firmly and decided that I needed to do this. With a feeling of letting go, I took a leap of faith and took as big of a hit as I could. I knew that I was being brave, but I had no idea what was in store for me.
I looked down at my clothes and I recall wearing a space outfit -- shiny white arm-braces and such. "Cool...", I thought. But this only lasted for an instant. I don't know how it exactly happened but I was catapulted into pure insanity. I didn't have a body -- there was just this scene. It was infinitely clear and lucid -- no confusion, just unbearable insanity. My thinking process was completely intact, not confused/drugged in any way -- my thoughts were linear and regular. I felt more awake then ever. It felt like I was transported to this place and there was no escape. There was a black and white checkerboard background that extended infinitely; I remember a door would open and stuff would shoot out, and then it would close again; there were a lot of other things in there that I don't remember. It would happen over and over again, and it showed no signs of letting up. And I had to sit and experience every grain of it: this infinite expansion and then contraction was experienced by my mind over and over again, and I had to experience that cosmic pain each time and each time it was just as infinitely bad and unbearable, which made it feel worse because it wasn't going to stop or let up in any way; it felt like my mind was exploding over and over again and it was infinitely beyond my threshold for pain. It was Hell. I had to accept that it was completely over for me as a human being. It felt like watching the 'Game Over' screen from a video game. "So, this is enlightenment", I thought. "I can see why Alan Watts was an alcoholic. Some cosmic joke, this is. Some sense of humor. No little human monkey mind can handle this. I flew too high, like Ickarus. What did I think would happen? I sit in my room, in my mom's house and do psychedelics -- how did I think this was going to end? I'm going to need to kill myself as soon as I come down. There is no way I can live having seen/experienced this. It'll be in the papers tomorrow 'young man took too much DMT and killed himself' but I don't care, I need to kill myself." I realized that I had to kill myself, but I hadn't fully surrendered to it. Finally, once I resolved to kill myself -- and I saw myself doing it, through a little window in the scene -- the entire scene lifted. Finally I was out, and I was presented with a scene of majestic beauty, simple and serene. I remember thinking "Oh! All I need to do is surrender to it, no matter how bad it seems and it'll stop!" But as soon as I thought this, I dually became aware that I was bored with the beautiful scene and very quickly my awareness (not in my control) darted back to the previous scene. I tried surrendering again but I didn't know how. This time there was more confusion present ; I recall being yelled at by a feathered-crown wearing spirit/face that told me to kill myself now because I would do it later anyway; it also said that the plants were inside of me already (referring to the tension in my head) and that there was no escape. This went on for however long.
But suddenly it all closed up and I found myself in my room, euphoric and completely fine. I realized that I didn't have to kill myself and was overjoyed. I would guess it lasted for about 8 minutes. The head tension was still there, unfortunately (and still is today, but I'm working with it). I kept saying "WOW!" and I paced quickly around the room and would often put my hands to my head. "McKenna was right!" I wrote. "Dose high and blow yourself away. That's the only way to do it. I've been doing it wrong all of these times!" So a thought came up, "well, if you really believe it, then prove it! Load up another dose!" I looked at the vapor genie and a wave went over my body -- that familiar feeling right before a DMT launch, as if one is going to jump off of a cliff. "No", I thought. "Let's let this one settle in before we go off again." I figured that all of the suicide stuff and the yelling by the spirit was simply part of the experience, but these came to haunt me afterwards in my moments of fear for quite some time.
Now, before this experience, I thought that I had had some pretty intense experiences -- I've had a lot of breakthroughs and some terror trips on DMT/changa and taken 'heavy' doses of mescaline and LSD -- but NONE of them compare in any capacity to the intensity of this experience. Infinitely many times more intense. Infinity upon infinity. Anyways, you get my point, haha.
I haven't done a psychedelic since (I include cannabis in that category). I told my mom (I live at home) a couple of days later that I was using psychedelics and she became concerned -- I told her about my changa experience, specifically, but I insisted that it was for my growth. I have seemingly stubbornly stuck to the idea that psychedelics are for my growth -- I have questioned this many times, but my interest in them remains. I can't seem to pull myself away from them so I don't even try. I still love listening to Terence McKenna, browsing psychedelic forums and reading psychedelic literature. For some time I thought that maybe I was a masochist. Anyways, she was very upset and concerned for me; I'm pretty sure the suicide stuff was a little much for her to handle. I should note that I have never been suicidal -- sure I've tossed and turned the idea in my head, but by no means has it been a dominant theme in my life. It is only recently that I have really thought about it a lot; that is, I have been afraid of ever arriving at a similar juncture in which I think suicide necessary. So I guess I would say it is a fear of wanting to commit suicide.
Anyways, once my mom got found out she also told my brother; they both got on my case pretty hard and were questioning me in a very angry way. They weren't trying to come to an understanding and they called me names (like 'pervert' -- does that really apply here? But I digress) and asked me "how could you ever do DRUGS?!" I tried to speak with them and let them know that this was part of a spiritual search and not for fun. Their concerned energy weighed on me, and I was no longer smoking cannabis so my head tension was really harsh and had me feeling cornered. I didn't think I was going to make it out of this ordeal -- I thought I would go mad or sink back into that changa hell. They exacerbated the problem by not leaving me alone -- I don't like their presence normally, I like to distance myself from them as much as possible as I do not resonate with them on any level. It's my fault, though, for sticking around my mom's house; I really should've moved out on my own. They demanded to take me into the city to seek medical help but I just wanted to sit it out in my bed, so they called an ambulance in an effort to force me to leave, and I complied. I spent about ten days after my changa experience, before I was referred to an addiction counselor; he asked me to go to a psych ward. I was afraid of the tension in my head and I complied; I was also feeling particularly 'mystical' at the time and felt that perhaps saying 'yes' to everything was the right way to go about things. Besides, maybe they could figure out what this head tension was.
The psych ward was a big waste of time, let me tell you. The accepted psychiatric model does not have a proper way for dealing with psychedelics; subjecting yourself to it is probably the worst thing you can do, in fact. Luckily, I had had some time to cool off before I entered the psych ward, because once I got in there, my fear became worse. I had difficulty going to sleep and I was afraid that at any moment the DMT spirits would come to finish the job on me. I was afraid that I would go insane, and I regressed to a childhood fear of the dark. Luckily I didn't have to stay for very long. Once I left my fear subsided. Funny coincidence, huh?
Some background, I believe, is warranted. I've been living at home with my mom, I'm a male in my mid-twenties and college educated; I used to work in a highly paid job straight out of college but I completely hated it; I quit after a year to pursue music (something I'm not very good at, but hey, a guy can learn, right?); instead I became interested in psychedelics and lost most of my interest in playing music -- now it's just a passing hobby. I haven't been doing much of anything, recently. And the funny thing is, I'm pretty much okay with it. I'm going to move out of this house as the situation is very toxic for me, but beyond that I have no aspirations of any sort.
I'm not sure if that changa session traumatized me; if it has, I don't know it. Sometimes the fear would come that I'd really done it to myself and that I would live out an existence like one of those oft-referenced "casualties of psychedelics" (i.e. that 'i heard about this one guy that ate an entire sheet of acid and never stopped tripping' malarkey). I am, physically-speaking, at the worst point in my life right now; I don't think I can hold a job of any sort; I have difficulty relating to my friends; in fact, it doesn't feel like I've ever even had a real friend; never have I been so afraid; I have a powerful and mostly unpleasant tension/energy 24/7 that works its way around my head and as a result I often feel strung out and fatigued; I feel pretty beaten up a lot of the time. Despite all of this, I wouldn't change a thing -- it's funny to see that; I'm not depressed. And throughout all of this I don't regret swimming in the psychedelic seas; in fact, I would like to swim again, only I would like to be very sure. Terence said (I paraphrase) "Nobody said it was going to be easy, being a bi-pedal primate, but I do submit that it is manageable."
I post this here to receive your collective love and wisdom.
Thank you for reading, I love you all.
