Experience:200 mg of MXP + N2O:20 chargers
- Dosage: 200 mg MXP with nitrous oxide
I was in my home. My experience began at about 10 pm. There was a fairly violent thunderstorm taking place outside and I was engaged in light conversation with my housemates. Everybody seemed to be getting sleepy and I could feel a wanderlust building in my mind. A quiet house and a raging storm struck me as a perfect backdrop for a night of deep introspection. I excused myself to the bathroom with the pretense of needing to defecate, and administered an IM injection of 100 mg of MXP. I sat down on the toilet and waited for the effects to begin.
Within five minutes I heard a noise that was difficult to describe, but was somewhat similar to a sustained cricket chirp. I held my hands out in front of me. Visually they looked unchanged, but cognitively they felt smaller and denser. I began to notice that the colors of the scenery around me were getting less and less saturated. Hues of sepia, sap green, orange-red and lemon yellow seemed to dominate. When focusing on more detailed images, it became somewhat difficult to keep them from blurring and jumbling together. My whole body seemed to be buzzing with a peculiar and prickly numbness that was most pronounced in my hands, my lower legs and the back of my neck. This feeling was intense and a little painful, but was in no way unwelcome or unpleasant.
Standing up, I flushed the toilet and began to wash my hands. I knew in my mind that the water was hot, but my skin did not register this feeling. Thoughts were now coming and going very quickly. I began to consider myself a film director of sorts, only the film in question was my real-life experience. I found this notion to be very exciting, and as I exited the bathroom, a sense of energetic calm pervaded my movements.
I returned to my room where the others were still seated. I offered up some whip-it cartridges I had purchased earlier that week. The conversation continued. One friend was laughing rather hysterically and drooling from the N2O.
- That's why they call it laughing gas, I remarked.
I took the empty canister and released two more chargers inside. Through circular breathing, I inhaled all of the gas in the chamber. Little specks of dark black spread across my visual field, much like a television with a weak signal. I could sense that my mind was losing touch with its ability to sense any stimuli around me. In my mouth was a strange, synthetic taste and I could not tell if my eyelids were open or closed. I was struck by the juxtaposition of the very naturally introspective thought patterns repeating in my conscious brain, and the industrially produced chemicals that helped me get there. I thought of Ridley Scott's Blade Runner and the beauty inherent in the cold and jagged city-scape that is the back drop for the film. The effects of the N2O dissipated almost as quickly as they began.
- We're probably gonna go to bed.
- Right on, I said.
I started to collect all of my effects as my housemates retreated to their respective chambers. After pacing for a few moments, I decided to sit down in my chair, just to collect myself. I was having a very difficult time determining the actual decibel level of the sounds going on around me, and I was nervous about disturbing any of the freshly sleeping bodies in the house. This consideration, along with my directive to collect all of the physical objects I would need with me caused a jumble in my mind. In that moment, it felt as though the process of ironing out all of these details and making it downstairs was taking me a great deal of time. A look at the clock after I was safely situated on the first floor couch said otherwise.
On the coffee table by my side rested my box of whip-its, my canister, 100 mg of MXP, a glass jar for mixing, a sterile 25 gage IM syringe, and some filters. I also had a set of headphones. I considered all of the items before me and tried to piece together some type of order of operations for myself. New thoughts were upon me very quickly and I found myself repeating certain phrases over and over again.
-Ever, never. Ever, never. Ever, never... -Wherever you go, there you are. Wherever you go, there you are...
My conscious mind struck me as merely a curious spectator to the real-world actions of my body. I knew that I had made a decision to prepare the solution, filter and inject it, but the whole process had a dream-like quality to it. I could not get out of my head the notion that I was some kind of film actor in a hard-boiled noir drama of yesteryear. The second injection came on with force as I lay down on the couch and wrapped my body in a large duvet (not that I had any sense of the actual temperature in the room).
I had the lights turned down very low, and a blink or a double take would often cause the colors around me to recede completely into grayscale. I put on my headphones and searched the internet for an old radio broadcast to which I might listen quietly. I landed on a 1939 Camel Caravan special starring Benny Goodman. The crackle in the recording and the cadence of the MC's voice pleased me immensely. I especially liked hearing him deliver his required lines from the Camel advertising office.
- Choosy smokers choose Camel cigarettes. Made from the finest Turkish and domestic tobaccos...
I began charging up my N2O canister once more. Inhaling the gas, I could feel my thoughts reaching escape velocity. My body seemed to be fusing with the duvet as my visual field was replaced completely by what seemed to be a great big, two-dimensional sheet of interlocking geometric shapes. It resembled the skin of a small reptile but was colored a muted orange. All the other instruments faded from earshot and I could now only make out Benny Goodman's clarinet solo. I thought of some friends and family with whom I wished I would communicate more often. I thought of their lives as they understood them. I felt myself losing a grip on my own ego as I attempted to deeply empathize with other people who think and act somewhat, or even wholly differently than I do. I remembered studying in class the person-centered therapy of Carl Rogers, and I hoped that all of these racing thoughts would instill in me a stronger capability to empathize with others.
Over the next half hour, I repeated my circular breathing process with the N2O about ten more times. I felt so connected with the music in my ears, and so connected with the people I am privileged enough to call friends. As I returned upstairs to my bed, I felt very at ease with myself. I knew that I would be very exhausted the following day at work, but I could sense in myself feelings of pride and loving kindness that trumped that bit of information. It took a little while to fall asleep, but my positivity persisted through that night and into the next day.
Submitted by - VictorWard
- Perspective distortions - "Visually they looked unchanged, but cognitively they felt smaller and denser."
- Acuity suppression - "When focusing on more detailed images, it became somewhat difficult to keep them from blurring and jumbling together."
- Spontaneous tactile sensations - " My whole body seemed to be buzzing with a peculiar and prickly numbness"
- Tactile disconnection - "I knew in my mind that the water was hot, but my skin did not register this feeling."
- Auditory suppression - "I was having a very difficult time determining the actual decibel level of the sounds going on around me"
- Time distortion - "it felt as though the process of ironing out all of these details and making it downstairs was taking me a great deal of time"
- Thought loops - "I found myself repeating certain phrases over and over again."
- Depersonalisation - "My conscious mind struck me as merely a curious spectator to the real-world actions of my body."
- Derealisation - "I began to consider myself a film director of sorts, only the film in question was my real-life experience."
- Geometry - "my visual field was replaced completely by what seemed to be a great big, two-dimensional sheet of interlocking geometric shapes."