To preface this post, I would consider myself a moderate to lightly experienced psychonaut - I have taken mushrooms in the presence of friends and select family dozens of times, but only once alone, and dropped acid ~8 times before. DMT, at least to me, represented a considerable step up from my previous experiences - for my friends and I.
Somewhat recently, I found myself in possession of a 300mg cart of this strange chemical - for some time it sat idly within a desk until the stars aligned, and a close friend of mine and I had a few days of time off. Deciding it was now or never, I stayed over at his apartment for a few days where we indulged ourselves in a variety of substances, the capstone of which being that cart. Our set and setting was perfect - my friend has a wonderfully whimsical taste in decor, some rather well used but very comfortable furniture, as well as two pet rabbits - there are not many experiences as magical as a velvety soft woodland creature jumping into your lap at the peak of an LSD trip!
On the morning after our acid adventure, we psyched ourselves up and made preparations - vaping DMT makes dosing somewhat difficult to measure, but I would estimate I took around 35-40mg, judging by the time and number of pulls I managed. Without further ado, here is my personal experience.
I know that the purest experiences often come in complete silence, but some lingering anxiety mixed with the enjoyment we'd both had the day prior listening to our tunes prompted us to ease ourselves in with music. I donned a pair of comfortable sound cancelling headphones, turned on the pen, and waited for my friend's go ahead - he nodded, and I took my first hit, closing my eyes and starting my playlist.
By the third hit, I had begun to lose all awareness of my surroundings - I had reclined unconsciously in my armchair, and it was becoming quite difficult to maintain my hold on the vape. I was beginning to experience brief, pulsing CEVs, and a strong feeling of dissociation. That was almost my limit - but in the distance, I heard my friend cheering me on - One more hit! One more!
With his encouragement, I had a brief resurgence in resolve, and took not one, but two more hits, and boy, am I glad I did. In the middle of my fifth hit, the pen simply slipped out of my hands, and I fell back, dissolving into my chair - Never with any other drug have I ever experienced such an abrupt change in dimensions.
Almost instantly, the world around my ceased to exist - only the music and my breathing existed. For a brief moment, I was immersed in total darkness - then, it was as if the void peeled away, expanding my field of vision to an incredible degree and revealing a bright orange worldscape unfolding in front of me. An ever-shifting plane of vaguely aztec shifting panels were arranged in front of me by countless arms composed of hard angled geometrical shapes - I instantly came to the conclusion that I was being shown some kind of show, a puppet theatre of squares overlaid with stunningly intricate ever-changing engravings. My breathing was a central component of this show - scenes changed and rearranged to my cycle of inhaling and exhaling, responding dynamically to every breath I took. My fear had utterly disappeared, replaced by rapt excitement - at this point, I believe I lost my grasp on language and perception of any reality beyond the theatre.
This experience lasted around 1:30-1:45 in reality, but I am not sure how long I was lost in it during the trip.
After this point, the scene began to change - I felt a sense of weight creeping up on me, and my breathing became somewhat laboured and more deliberate. The edges of the theatre began folding inwards, like the walls of a box - darkness crept in at the edges of my vision until only a single cube remained in the centre of my vision. My anxiety returned - was it over? Did I get kicked out? Did I do something wrong? Little did I know, this was not the end of what the hands wanted to show me, but the experience would be changing into something
much more difficult.
As quickly as it had folded up, the orange cube peeled open again, this time revealing an interior of red and white angled stripes across every surface - my excitement was now tampered by a rapidly growing sense of fear, as if these new shapes posed some kind of threat. The hands were now the same colour - the performance no longer responded to my breathing, instead becoming more frantic and heavy handed. Before, the show was for my amusement. Now I was strapped in, and my attendance was no longer voluntary. The genre was flipped on its head from purely whimsical to deeply uneasy - I wanted off, but I couldn't bear to open my eyes. Only after a minute or so of ever-increasing discomfort, weight, and fear was I able to open my eyes - the show grew ever more intense until they knew I could bear it no more - I was finally given wordless permission to leave, and my eyes snapped open, revealing the apartment around me and my nearby friend once more.
The experience wasn't over yet, however! Instantly, I was overcome with an almost euphoric sense of childish wonder at the world around me. The colours of the room were beautifully vibrant, my vision painted over by an aesthetic filter I would most closely ascribe to a mix between a Wes Anderson film and an oil painting. The ceiling did not exist - it had receded to reveal an infinitely repeating tower of gears ascending into a faintly blue plane far above. I was so overcome by relief of escaping the red-and-white thriller show and my beautiful surroundings that I could not speak - I simply looked to my friend and reached out my hand, yearning for some sense of human connection. He held my hand for a few more seconds, before I released his, shot him a thumbs up, and simply enjoyed the last fading gift of sight the hands had granted me - the falling action of the play, I suppose.
When I had fully sobered up, 5 minutes and 8 seconds had passed according to my friend's timer - though familiar with psychedelic time dilation, I could barely believe how little time had actually passed. I could barely contain myself - I immediately rose from my chair, pacing around the room and manically blurting everything about the trip I could explain in our sadly limited human language.
Even weeks later, I can vividly remember many aspects of my trip, something I did not expect, but am very grateful for. I did not receive any wild realizations, or come into possession of some new knowledge other than how utterly insane this chemical is at any part of the experience - for my first time, I suppose, the other side simply wished to entertain with a sometimes overwhelming but always exciting show of what they could do.
Overall, the trip was an incredible event I'll remember for the rest of my life - but I certainly wouldn't recommend it to anyone without some prior psych experience. It was intense - painfully intense at some points - but certainly something I'll repeat in the future when I feel I'm ready. The CEVs were unbelievable - among the most stunning things I've ever seen - and the OEVs stood side by side with those I've previously experienced on a "heroic" dose of mushrooms, though I must say the filter given to me by DMT was even more enjoyable. I did not experience the same auditory effects reported by many others, but they were likely superseded by the music I was listening to. Next time, I think I will try silence for a change for a more holistic experience.
