OK, sorry, but I was never this much terrified in this life.
Here it goes.
Saturday evening, as usual. I have established a ritual of smoking DMT once a week, so that means every Saturday. This Saturday should have been nothing different .
To cut story short, I took one small chunk of DMT wax and put it in the pipe. I sat down on the floor of my living room, and tried to relax. Breath and clear my thoughts.
I proceeded and took one huge hit. Very huge, my lungs were full it seemed. Exhaled, and proceeded to take second. Also huge. Held it in. Immediately felt something is different. Usually second hit doesn't get me far, and third one is needed, but not this time. Immediately after second one, it started.
I looked on my ceiling, and around the lightbulb, faces started to appear. They were curvy, and had kind of evil sick laugh. I saw them and said: "no, no, I don't want this".
And this is where it started.
Night before, I had a dream of my deceased father. And for unknown reason, memory of that dream appeared. Totally unprovoked. As the memory of it appeared, one word, one meaning started to become center, axis of my experience. Death.
I was thrown into a place of swirling shapes like barber pole but even more flexible. Randomly ,on those swirling shapes faces would appear. Very evil. They made it clear that I messed things up and that im dead. There is nowhere to go now. And im the only one responsible for it. Because I didn't listen. Their purpose at that time was to make me suffer. Make me cry and beg. And I did. I told them: "please let me go. I will never return again, I promise, please. I don't want to find my family and friends find out i died like this. Please."
It seemed they decided to let me go this time. Like they knew my words were honest. But myself wasn't out of it yet. I was still overwhelmed by terror. I started hyperventilating and thinking to myself: please be calm, it will be over. Please, just stay calm."
Thank Heavens after few minutes it passed.
I was never this terrified in my life. Never.
Bottom line: if I could describe this experience in few words as possible it would be like this: "Oh, so this one thought he figured it out, thinks he's invincible? Give him a double dose, now he will learn a lesson."
I blame few reasons for this. First, not measuring a dose. I took a small chunk and loaded it in without measuring it. It could have weighted even 100mg, and that would be very much. That's very irresponsible of me. Second, my state of mind at that moment entire day, and day before I was overly anxious about results of my medical exam which showed up insulin resistance, increased blood pressure and high blood lipid. All result of my extra pounds, probably. And not much is needed for my anxiety to rocket up, let alone such results. I must shed weight, and I need mental strength, not physical. And I never had much mental strength. And third, myself not letting go. Seriously, as soon as my trip felt like something I would not quite like, I was saying: "no"? Sorry, but what no? You bought the ticket, now enjoy the ride. If you fight it, you gonna have a bad time.
This will surely make me reconsider my life as whole, not just my relation with DMT which is shaken like never before.
Peace and love. <3