Bipolar and psycho-emotional problems started for me when I was just a kid.

I lived undiagnosed for probably 25 years. It was a painful life living on the other side of the looking glass.
I could peer into the real world, but it became augmented by some sort of lens of delusion. I believed that no one liked me or wanted me around. I thought people were against me. I thought that everyone viewed me as behind the times and that I was a poser for everything I liked, and that everyone else knew how to like things in a more dedicated and genuine way.

In addition to having inborn mood issues historically, I have childhood trauma issues that lead to exacerbate the bipolar and anxiety into forming a kind of identity crises. I witnessed traumatizing things, and it shut off the growth of my self esteem and selfness in exchange for giving all that power to fight or flight and judgment and rage. I lost so many people to my disorganized thinking (never keeping in touch with people, never thinking anyone wanted to hear from me) and my anger. So many girlfriends would have stayed with me forever but I just tossed them aside because I had absolutely no ability to attach in a healthy way. I truly did not enjoy my adolescence nor the majority of my 20s.

Starting in 1997 I began a career as a DJ and producer. It became a full time effort, and in many ways it sort of curbed the negative aspects of my disturbances. I became more social and less withdrawn through time. It felt like people liked me, and for the first time, I liked people back. My friend Molly helped me with getting in touch with some of that trauma.

One night, in Santa Cruz, at a festival where my label mates were playing, I was rolling around, and my friend asked me something that I didn't know would change my life. It was 6 words that opened up the fabric of spacetime, or rather, spacetime revealed itself to me in a new way that I had been locked out of previously experientially.

"Do you want to smoke DMT?"

I had no clue if I did or not, to be honest. But, somehow, the night was so magical that I was absolutely unafraid, I mean, I didn't even let anxiety register. Not even that feeling you get when you try a new compound of any kind. That sort of open slot of experience, you wonder how it will be etched into the form of experiential data, and then that anxiety directly transforms into whatever information this new compound has to give. I honestly had barely heard of DMT. I knew it was hallucinatory in nature, and I had heard stories of experiences with astonishing phenomena. Nothing quite compared me to what happened next.

A group was lead by the shaman, a super heady friend who lived permanently in the mode of spiritual connectivity, to a clearing in the woods. We could hear the music from the main stage. I don't remember how it all transpired, but we all sat in a circle. A bowl was packed and the bong was passed to me. (Sandwich method). I remember lighting it and taking in the hit, and I held it for a long time, as instructed. When I breathed out, we all know what happened. The last thing from the old life I remember is my friend whispering, "You're welcome," just as I started blasting off.

The first thing I saw was the Buddha's hand coming to move through me. The Buddha was infinity size, the hand was just a long swipe of red and orange energy. Buddha scooped me up into space. I opened my eyes and saw that the world was completely transformed to a magical place where everything looked surreally hyper-real. Plants looked like 3D models of plants. Every spire of every plant was perfect. Every leaf was perfect, almost cartoonish. I exclaimed, "This can't be real," and my friend said, "This is real reality." That really got my head spinning.

So, this is hard to understand because time was so distorted, and I was in and out of hallucinating, but my friend took a hit, and he all of a sudden started making this low growl that started to quickly wind up to becoming the only scream I have ever heard that I would describe as blood curdling. I had never wanted to ascribe that particular euphemism to a scream, but this was the most guttural, explosive, disturbing scream I have ever heard before or since. He then flopped face down on the ground and started shaking violently, but not in a seizure state, in sort of an ecstatic overload. He and my other friend left at some point, and I remember thinking, "Man, I must really care about him, because it worried me even in a completely hallucinatory dissociated state."

So, because of the disruption, I turned to our guide and said, "Hey man, I'd really like to go there," even though I had no real inkling of where "there" was. So he packed another bong rip. I took it and stood straight up and started pacing. I was receiving the answer. The idea. The love is experience and experience is consciousness and consciousness is existing and experiencing. At no point in that flow do we become separate from all things, though consciousness ascertains that is so due to the human's limited ape brain and its dependence on timespace as linear markers and the social reality that that creates. I looked at a friend who suddenly showed up out of the woods and sat on our blanket, I smiled excitedly and said, "Oh my god, this is a feeling I've always had, but never had at the same time. This is why we live and love and think," and the friend excitedly nodded and urged me to continue the thread. I paced and decided that this wasn't as far as this goes. I didn't know where else it could go, but I wanted to see what would happen. I think that blasting off just sort of was an inevitability that presented itself as a logical end to the means I planned to employ. I turned to our guide and said, "I haven't gotten 'there' yet, can you please help me get there," and I'll never forget this feeling, it never was before and never can be again. This was my first true religious experience. He proclaimed, "Everyone, we're going to help him get to the other side. I want everyone to Om with me as he inhales," and I sat for a second, unbelieving that this would actually happen, but it did. I sparked the lighter and started to breathe in, and sure enough, all of my friends around me began long, serene drapes of Om. I closed my eyes and followed the trail of sound to the very core of everything. Blasting off for me was not the Chrysanthemum, it was flowing, compact, into the focal point of emptiness, into the tiniest place. And when I shrank all the way down, I found myself waking up in the same instance that I realized I was flowing with the sound into the blackness. My eyes opened wide, I looked at the guide, and I suddenly, with no volition of my own, grabbed mud and smeared it across my face. I started crawling around digging into the earth to extract power crystals that were glowing blue, and the looked like small rigatoni.

When I had my fill of power crystals, I looked up and around and saw that I was perfect and perfectly in tune with existence. I started doing sort of a kata, or a pop and lock breakdance routine. I made noises like I was doing karate. I looked up at a tree. I decided that I could ascend the tree if I touched its lowest branch. When flying did not happen, I continued doing martial arts in the forest roughage. Suddenly I heard my name, sharply, followed by a familiar voice saying, "I'm cold, I want to go," and then I realized it was my girlfriend, and I stopped tripping all at once. I looked around, and it had become light out, and I was utterly confused as to what the actual fuck had just happened. I was wet from my shoes to my tits, and I had mud on almost every inch of my body.

Now, integration began.

I spent the next day on the fluffiest acid of all time. It was like cotton candy for the brain. If fluffy acid is just a construct brought on by set and setting, then, whatever the case, I was on cloud 9 for the next 24 hours when it was time to leave.

When I left that next day, I started a year long hypomanic spell that was fueled by tons of LSD and Molly and parties and lasers and warehouses and touring and the best times ever. Then came the crash.

I payed dearly for all of that slamming my brain with chemical cannons.

... this is getting to be tediously long, I'm going to stop here, I'm only up to like 7 years ago.


Summary: 25 years of therapy plus correct meds plus occasional and purposeful use of novel compounds I have put my bipolar into remission. My anxiety disorder has been in remission for several years.

I recently had a religious like experience during a binge on DXE, which is my DOC. DXE has been the most useful compound I have ever come into contact with, save MXE and to a much lesser but important degree, K.

Arolcyclohexylamines changed my life, and I would never ever give up where the use of chemical compounds has lead me.

Sorry this is anticlimactic.


I also want to add that I am/was a member of the now defunct Church of Neuroscience. Our pastor, Jeremy, has past away. I do not know how that happened. But I do know I believed in and supported the cause he presented, and I am very sad that that relationship has ended. I think he was a bit of a pioneer. I think standing up to the DEA as a tiny church in New Orleans while openly distributing molecular sacrament was a feat of sheer bravery. The MXE that I was given by the church lead me to have some of the most profound and enlightening experiences in my life.

If anyone else had contact with the CNS (KnB Organics/Spirit), I'd be really happy to touch base.

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ATTITUDE AWARENESS:

I promise that I will do my best to be inquisitive and supportive in exchange for entitlement or conflict. I want to be a productive member of this forum because I feel that there is reflexive growth and value in my participation here.

I wish to view everything from a stance of love and inspiration.


Thank You, Buddy. <3

I hear you on that note there bud! That's why finding the right time to craft my story properly, so that it does a bit of justice to my history.

All the best for you on your grand journey, sincerely.

I just overshare as default.