Hi -
I've been experiencing DMT for a little while now. Whilst challenging, I am beginning to develop a working, first-hand knowledge - or so I think
All of my experiences to date have had me totally oblivious to the fact that I have a body while I'm peaking. At some point, I come back to reality and realise my head's been hanging open and I've been connected off to an astral plane with what feels like a big rope of something coming out of my mouth.
During this time, I've been working with acacia extract which I believe has been DMT + NMT. I've been using a GVG and getting better at using it efficiently. Recently I've been dosing around the 50mg mark, thinking that this is roughly a 50%-50% split and therefore consuming 25mg of DMT. I've had a number of very vivid experiences on this amount.
Today, I did the same thing, but this time I never left my body and it was extremely uncomfortable. I was thrashing around and had a really hard time letting go and accepting the experience during that peak state.
Is this common? From what I've read, it seems that the pass-out-come-back-later thing was pretty much par for the course. Is that not the case?
This experience was my most powerful to date... It just seems strange that I never really "left".
Any thoughts?
Thanks,
0.
For the non TL-DR crowd, here's the actual journal entry/experience report -
"This time was significantly different. I didn’t pass out like normal. I was thrown smack bang into that same kaleidoscopic fractal land, but the intensity was significantly ramped. Everything was complex geometry and morphing mandalas of colour – bright vivid blues, reds, greens and yellows over a sort of ultra-shiny metallic white background. This was overpoweringly weird. I could not relax into this experience and my head was not forced back with my mouth hanging open as normal. I felt my body begin to writhe. My eyes were forced open. I squirmed and kicked. My legs danced and kicked off the quilt that was covering my feet. I didn’t feel panic per se, but I was not liking this experience. I could not get comfortable at all. Everything was too over-whelming. I wanted it to end. This crashing crisis of colour was too much to bear. I began to think that I just wanted it to stop and reminded myself that normal programming would return in less than sixty minutes. I tried to close my eyes and slip away into the ether, but I kept squirming, writhing, thrashing about. I became aware of a voice saying “See. Remember this. You’ve got to remember.” I was also challenged directly. I felt I was being told that if I was going to react like this to just some whirling geometry and fractally colours, then what the hell would I be like if it was a bad trip filled with unimaginable horrors? I got the feeling of being told either “Do you really think you are ready” or even the more direct “You are not ready”. As I began to plead with time to go past faster, I was being told, “Look, you must remember this. You’ve got to remember this.” It really was quite insistent and I felt it’s desperation to communicate this message to me. I think that I was being reminded of my first attempts where I’d freaked out through a lack of preparation. I was experiencing some of the same flight response as those earlier times, before I’d properly put in the meditation and ritualistic elements to my pre-flight routine. I think this is what I was being told to remember. At least I hope that’s all there was to it, because if not, I’ve forgotten the rest and I feel that wouldn’t be a good thing. I opened my eyes a number of times during this period to see the sunlight through the window and to look at the tree. I remember desperately wanting to be out there in that sunshine where I would be ok; back in normality. I remember watching the black swathe of colour in the curtain look like frowning eyebrows and begin to freak me out. I remember feeling panicked and looking over at my spirit candle to make sure it was on and working, but the prismatic reflections of light coming from it held no sanctuary. The occasional waft of incense was very reassuring, but it felt like it was coming from a long way away, and I was stuck here in this madness with time refusing to move.
Next I felt the visions shift and morph back to the kindergarten nursery type imagery I’ve experienced before. While there was still an amazing amount of geometrical morphing going on in and out of 3D and 4D space, the fractal patterns had calmed themselves somewhat and I felt like I was being put back in the little kid’s room for a time out. A clown type entity was holding up a little paddle shaped like a stop sign and I felt I could hear them saying, “Hang on. He’s freaking out. Slow it down a little.” I really felt like I was being pushed back to another layer to calm down as I wasn’t handling the other level into which I’d been initially thrown. This annoyed me. I didn’t want to be back with the clowns and I sort of ignored them and didn’t get caught up in the nursery land for too long.
At this stage, I did begin to calm and felt somewhat more OK with the experience. At any case, I wasn’t begging for it to end. Around this time I was thinking that I never wanted to do this thing again – never wanted to tempt fate and certainly didn’t want to experience that degree of sensory overload with more dark, challenging, confronting imagery. In that moment, I was sure I’d never do it again and would abort the extraction going on in my shed as soon as I returned to baseline.
Then, into this madness, I remembered the lesson I’d been taught about meditation. My observer took over. It watched my panic and fear flailing about. It simply observed this happening but didn’t get involved. “Just be”; the mantra I’d forgotten to use during my pre-flight ritual was now in operation. My body relaxed for the first time and I calmed. Still tripping intensely, I could watch these visions unfolding in endless kaleidoscopic columns around me but their intensity no longer held any power over me. I felt my body compose itself. My hands were over my heart. My head tilted slightly to one side and towards my candle. My right leg bent up and my hip skewed over to the right. I breathed. I observed. With each breath I smelt the incense in my room and felt more grounded.
From somewhere deep I was confronted with the image of my mother. The colours of the imagery around me now took on an additional element of white light along with the still rapidly morphing reds, blues, greens and yellows that I somehow instantly associated with early childhood. It was as if I was remembering this place or these colour-feelings from long, long ago; a time before language or of delirium maybe. This combined with the image of my mum made it all feel better, all of sudden. Where there had been blind panic and flight response, now there was calm and I felt the love of my mum as I’d not felt it for years and years. Pure, unconditional and filled with care. I felt warm and oh-so loved. With each breath, I felt this love more and more and realised how I’d been separating myself from her for so long now and that it was really quite unfair of me. I would always be her little boy, and despite her failings, she would and always had loved me as wholly and completely as she could.
I was amazed by this revelation and recognised myself as being here in this moment; just watching it and accepting of its place in the grand cycle of my life and hers. The fact that we each grow older and apart over the years does is no way separate me from that same love she had for me when I was but a small babe in her arms. Each moment of precious experience is all that we need. I pondered on the blessing of being here in this place and being allowed to experience this cycle of birth, life and death. I realised or was told that’s all there is to it. We’re here to experience love in each and every moment. Everything else is essentially meaningless. All we need to do is recognise and connect with that love and share it. From here my thoughts and visions went to my wife and children. I saw us repeating that same process of birth, life and death and promised myself to take part of this far more fully than I’ve been doing. I now felt soothed, comforted and more relaxed and calm than I’d been feeling for weeks.
I bathed myself in this warm love for the longest time, not wanting to move in case I’d break this soothing spell of bliss in which I was wrapped. At some point I asked, “Who are you?” as I felt like I had been guided back to this place. I didn’t expect an answer, but then was surprised when I felt the answer come back to me, “The Mother”. I knew that this didn’t mean my literal mum and despite not seeing any presence to attach this thought to, I knew that I really had been looked after, calmed and brought these revelations.
After the longest time, I finally rose and turned off the candle. I went downstairs and found my phone. All I wanted to do was talk to my Mum.
Wow."