This is an account of something(s) that happened back in August 2015. It's as much of an emotional diary than a trip report, but the iboga and my relation to it certainly plays a role. Also, there is some NSFW content (sexual) in there, just to warn you.
All summer, I was feeling the urge to do an Iboga flood, but trying to find the right circumstances in which to do it. My social network had disintegrated considerably, so I was having a difficult time finding people to sit for me. I considered doing it alone, but various doubts got in the way of doing that (probably reasonable ones).
One night, I broke things off on the phone with a woman who was going to be my sitter. She was someone who I had not seen in 10 years, and she would be flying up to stay with me for 2-3 weeks, during which time she'd sit for me. I felt uneasy about it because she herself was sick (and taking opioids for pain), and she had this way of stroking my ego.
About 3 hours after we hung up, I met another woman. We felt an instant and powerful attraction to each other, but it felt dangerous to me. She developed loving emotions for me, and I think I just felt comforted and blessed by her love. I did/do admire her, though, as she is quite an impressive person on many levels.
Seeking guidance about this new potential relationship, and my life direction at that moment, I dosed about 175mg Iboga TA in my home, alone. As I felt it kick in, I went to sit in a chair to play a drum, but I missed the chair and fell on my ass, hurting my pelvis, a LOT. This instantly put me in a hyper-introspective place. I shut my eyes and leaned my head against the back of the chair with my knees on the ground, taking stock of my life at that moment. I was in a lot of pain, and alone.
I tried to imagine her, this new woman I met, being present, and instantly I sensed a presence that gained from my being hurt. Today I am unsure about the truthfulness of this perception. I believe that her intentions are good, but she's in just as dark a place as I am, and so I am not sure she would be a good influence on me.
I had some wacky thoughts about rhythm and binary thinking.
I relocated to the couch and lay on my back, my head on 2 pillows. I writhed in very real pain. It felt like something was wrenching the life-force out of my core. It brought me close to crying out in agony. It felt Bad. Half-traumatized, I went further inward. A presence came forth above my face and communicated with me: "If you let go of some power, you will find greater peace."
Me: No! I need that power to heal my life! I need my ambition, my strength, my youth!
It: Are you sure you don't want to trade in your power? You'll find greater peace!
Me: No! I mean, uh,
It: Peeeeeacccee..
Me: aagh
The presence merged with me, and in a brief flash of light I felt greater peace.
I had a brief vision of myself as this helpless sick person in tribal Africa, and the elders told me to go sit with "Bobo." Bobo! Ew, no! Bobo is this stupid ape-like being with deep, but vacant eyes that see only the physical, surface reality! He is all Earth and no Spirit!
I sat with him anyway, and it was just chill, but a little embarrassing.
[Keep in mind that this is a sub-flood dose, so my ego was still partially intact, tainting my judgment of things.]
~~~
The next day, I resolved to meet back up with this new woman. Even though iboga seemed to hint that she wasn't good for me, how could I do this alone? I felt so alone. I met up with her in the evening, saying that I felt that our meeting was important, and she was ecstatic. I think I was happy, too.
Keep in mind Iboga's timeline often lasts up to 3 days. So at this point, I am still under the influence (but able to drive). We spend the night together, making love in various ways. With the iboga in my system, my body seemed prepared for hours of tantric sex. No orgasm necessary, just eye-gazing, caressing, exploring, everything but the climax where you throw it all away by trying to squeeze the pleasure out of it. She went with it, but eventually got tired, and I suspect, a little disappointed that she couldn't get me off.
Not wanting to let her down, I beckoned her for some more Action. Without going into too much detail, I gave it to her, having complete control over the decision to ejaculate. In my heart of hearts, with Iboga connecting me with that space, I did not want to ejaculate, but, something(s) outside of me wanted me to. What could be bad? I'll recover, right?
The instant I ejaculated I knew it was the wrong decision. My entire abdomen clenched up like it was trying to force something out that it could not force out. The muscle contractions were intense, covering my whole body, and lasting for about a minute. It was not pleasurable, ecstatic, or like any other orgasm I had ever experienced. It was Bad. It reminded me of when I was on the couch, 24 hours earlier, writhing in pain with the Iboga freshly in my system.
From the outside, it looked like I was having fun, so it was a surprise to her when I told her that it was "Bad." I tried to explain it to her, but she could only offer her sympathy, not her understanding. (Great girl.)
The experience brought up a lot of negative emotion for me. For the next hour, with my hand over my eyes, I spilled to her about my sexual history, which was cathartic and therapeutic. When it seemed that I had said all that I needed to say, I stopped. The next moment remains a mystery to me which gives me goosebumps just thinking about it.
She was communicating on her phone. Or, no, she wasn't. Wait, yes she was! Wait, she was playing a trick on me! Wait... She managed to put me into such a state of confusion, so artfully and with such finesse, that she made me laugh the most genuine laugh I had laughed in a very long time. Confusion that felt safe. I laughed, and then could not stop laughing (read: giggling maniacally) for what seemed like 30 minutes, until it petered out into a blissful state.
Then, wordlessly, she brought me to her big mirror, and had me look at myself. Not only was this therapeutic (and scary), it made me realize: The Bwiti shaman (Nganga) makes you look at yourself in a mirror during the traditional iboga ceremony. I told her this, and she had no idea.
That was all at the 24-36-hour mark. 36-42 hrs, she had work and I rested. 42-48, she came to my place, and we hung out just a little bit before going to bed. We awoke at the same time, though in different beds. We both had the experience of being completely disoriented when waking up. But, I had had probably THE WORST nightmare I have ever had in my life that morning, just before waking up. It was the most gory, wretched, obscene, technicolor cartoon violence you could imagine. I awoke in a sweat, shivering, not from cold, but from this enormous tension in my chest. It was like this huge bowling ball of energy was trying to force itself through a small, restricted opening in my heart, causing my torso to vibrate uncontrollably with this deep, physical fear. I thought I was on the verge of bursting a blood vessel in my heart, or something.
She was with me during this time, being an angel, essentially, but ineffective at helping me out. I wished I could believe her when she told me that everything was going to be okay, but I didn't. I started playing the didgeridoo, which provided an outlet for this excess energy, calming me down considerably. That moment felt really dangerous. Later I decided that, had it been a full flood dose, and I had *purged*, I wouldn't have had that excess energy in me, and I would have felt fine upon waking up.
In conclusion, I did Iboga in a highly uncontrolled setting, with mostly unconscious intentions, and I got a hectic trip infused with my social life which I feel brought me into a state of even greater confusion. I look forward to doing a full flood under proper supervision. If you are going to do Iboga, I recommend either doing microdoses where the effects are subthreshold, or going all the way with a flood dose. Anything in between, in my experience, can offer more stress than is worth it.
Thanks for reading.
From the unspoken
Grows the once broken