DMT Trip Report - Mimosa Hostillis - 40mg

[Thomas G]

Trip #2 (40mg DMT powder crystals extracted from Mimosa Hostillis; drank with water and fresh squeezed orange juice): 9/21/2019

Participant: Anonymous

Gender: Male

Body weight: 160 lbs?

Known sensitivities: None

History of psychedelic use: One previous trip where nothing happened (dosage too low at 15mg)

 

Pre-Conditions:

Set (mind): Fairly peaceful; spent day doing homework at library and feeling moderate sexual urges. Meditated/napped laying down for 3 hours in the morning. Somewhat antsy and restless about getting results with spirituality and experiencing god directly. Slightly impatient with the fact that I have not had any psychedelic breakthroughs, but I still respect the process and am committed to a lifelong journey of meditation, yoga, mindfulness, thoughtless awareness, and waking up from the dream of physical reality.

Set (physical condition): Somewhat energetic; stomach is fairly full (I didn’t eat that much, but sometimes I get full quickly; I’m not bloated, but if I ate a bit more, I might quickly become bloated). My body feels comfortable and I feel like I can quickly shift between relaxed and active.

Setting (location): Arizona, US; my studio apartment

Time of day: 7:06 pm

Recent drug use: None

Last meal: 2 pm-is; peach smoothie; spinach/banana smoothie; brown rice; yellow bell pepper; kale; dandelion greens; 2 slices of wheat bread with hummus; Lara bar

 

Bioassay:

Substance(s): DMT extracted from Mimosa Hostillis

Dose(s): 40 mg; I will take a second dose of 20 mg 2 hours into the trip if effects are inadequate

Method of administration: pharmahuasca tea preceded by harmala mix (2:1:1 in tapioca capsule)

 

Effects:

Administration time: 8:27pm; nothing happened until about 9::20pm

Duration: about 2 hrs 40 min

First effects: 9:20pm; a droopy, tranquilized feeling

Peak: 10pm – 12am; heightened consciousness continually forcing me into the present moment, then relaxing me into sickness/nausea, then pulling me back into the present moment with heightened consciousness

Come down: 12am – 3:15am; Waking up after a 3-hour nap and just realizing the effects were mostly gone.

Baseline: 4am

 

Rated Effects (Scale of 1-10):

Intensity: 5

Pleasantness: 4

Unpleasantness: 5

Visual Intensity: 1 (no hallucinations, but regular vision was heightened and more real)

Hangover (duration): for 30 min after napping?

Afterglow (duration): for 1 hour after the hangover thing?

 

Preparation/Intention:

Decided to do only one trip per month max.

Set intention at least one week in advance: What ideally would I like to get out of my experience? I want to open my third eye to intelligent infinity.

Questions to consider:

            -What is success to me and how will I know if I am heading in the right            direction?

            To me, success is emulating sages like Lahiri Mahasaya in the sense that I can   oscillate between formless and form gracefully. I will know if I am heading in the     right direction when I can walk around at work with a dissolved mind (not even            thinking that I am “at work”), yet have the mind spontaneously appear with all its             relevant HVAC knowledge exactly when needed. Maybe fear will be involved, but             I will not mind the fear—I will welcome it. Also, this whole oscillation will not             involve hurting others or myself, or any sort of collateral damage that can come   from aloofness—this is how I will know I am successful at my simultaneous    spiritual/physical journey.

 

            Also, in meditation, my two primary criteria are how deep is my meditation bliss,   and how long do I naturally enter the breathless state.

 

 

Trip Report:

Plan: 3- to 4- hour expectiation

Ginger tea, sip once before, then throughout
Take harmala, wait 50 minutes; recommended dose: 150-170 mg; my dose:170 mg

Take pharmahuasca drink (DMT + water + orange juce); recommended dose: 30-80mg; my dose: 40 mg; take 2nd does of 20 mg 2 hours in if nothing much happens

Expect trip to last no longer than 4 hours

 

7:06pm

Took harmala tapioca capsule after soaking it in hot water for several minutes so it digests eaiser; meditated/read “secret power of kriya yoga” for 54 minutes until 8pm

 

8:00pm

Weighed out 40mg; drank it with warm water and squeezed juice from an orange

 

8:27pm

Drank DMT

 

9:20 pm-ish

As a summary before I get into details, it appears the whole “trip” lasted about 3 three hours, from about 9:20pm to about 12am. Also, there were absolutely no visuals, and I guess I would classify this as a “bad trip,” although it wasn’t really horrifying or anything. I remember saying to myself, “On a scale of sick to high, this definitely feels more on the sick side.” And I thought, “I’m also not sure why sick and high are on the same spectrum . . . but they are right now, I guess . . . .” It didn’t feel blissful or divine, but there was a sense of self-aware humor and the present moment of me laying and walking around in my apartment was very real. I oscillated between sick/nauseous and awake/heightened reality/present. I kept saying to myself, “It keeps coming back. I don’t know what to do. It keeps coming back. Please help me. When will this stop? Go away, I get it. I get it. Go away. Go away.” “It keeps coming back” was referring to this sense of heightened consciousness whereby I really couldn’t think of anything else except what was happening in the present moment. I felt possessed, and I kept shaking my head and flailing my arms, and when I walked around, my body felt hot and tingly, and my legs were weak as if my entire body were exhausted and ready for sleep, yet my head was wide wide awake and refreshed. I remember saying to myself, “I feel nauseous like I’m going to throw up and have diarrhea, but then, just as I feel I’m going to vomit, the feeling resolves itself into feeling awake and refreshed, like I just woke up.” (Was this a result of the BDNF? I don’t know.) This oscillation happened maybe every 30 seconds or every minute.

 

Anyway, on to the details. I was naked during the whole trip, as it’s just more comfortable I guess. No real effects happened between 8:27pm and 9:20pm. At 9:20pm, I was thinking I should get up and take another dose because I wanted something to actually happen during this trip. The second dose would have been the rest of my DMT because I didn’t have much left, and it would be about 20mg or so. I was beginning to think the DMT I had extracted was a dud, or I had let it sit in my freezer for too long, but then I started feeling relaxed and droopy in my body, yet my head was wide awake. My arms flailed here and there, sort of like I was having an incredibly mild, almost controllable seizure. I felt like I was being tranquilized by the harmala, and at this point, I still thought my DMT was a dud, I wasn’t sure if I was feeling the effects of the DMT, and I figured everything I was experiencing was because of the harmala, like it wouldn’t have mattered if I had taken the DMT at all. So for a while, a debate was going on in my mind (not in language, but subtle thoughts) about whether I should take that second dose because what was happening so far seemed kind of lame for a psychedelic experience.

 

It almost felt more like food poisoning mixed with possession by heightened consciousness. And I distinguish between heightened consciousness and higher consciousness. Whatever my conceptions were of higher consciousness before this trip, this certainly didn’t feel like that. By heightened consciousness, I just mean that I was constantly being pulsed with a feeling of just waking up, my brain feeling really refreshed and not sleepy at all. And then the sick feeling would come back, but there weren’t any stomach aches or anything. Just a feeling like I was going to have diarrhea (although when I went to sit on the toilet several times, all that came out was gas) or vaguely like I was going to vomit (though I never did). It felt like my intestines were in the process of being tranquilized, and they were just relaxing and ready to evacuate anything in them. I felt like I was being constantly evacuated (though, again, nothing ever came out of either end). And for the heightened consciousness aspect of it, you might say I was on a rack of  consciousness (like that torture device they used in medieval times), and my consciousness was being pulled open to heightened consciousness, and then relaxed back down, then pulled open again, and so on. Although the peaks never really got any higher, it was just up and down, up and down, always up to the same level.

 

So, this next part will be sort of stream of consciousness of what happened during the “trip.” Anything I write in quotes is something I said to myself out loud (not too loud, usually just in whispers or low volume talking; also they’re probably not direct quotes, I’m just going off of my memory of it, which is slowly fading). I hesitate to call it a trip because it might have just been biological effects, but there was definitely something about this that shifted my reality and made me realize I was experiencing something I had never experienced before, it just didn’t feel particularly psychedelic. Also, whenever I spoke out loud, I had a slight anxiety and caution about not letting any of my apartment neighbors hear me.

 

I lay on my bed and wonder if I should take more DMT. “I can’t tell if this is the . . . harmala . . . or the DMT.” I flail around a bit and walk over to the bathroom. I feel a little less nauseous standing. As I pass by my microgram scale on the ground which I used to weigh the dose, I put my hands out toward the scale and say, “Okay, I won’t take any more. I won’t take any more.” It was like my thinking process wasn’t really working, and any decisions that had to be made had to be said out loud.

 

At first, I wasn’t really scared at all. I look at myself in the mirror. I look almost like a manikin. Sometimes after I meditate, I get this meditation high, and then I look at myself in the mirror and I do look sort of like a manikin, like my reality becomes sort of like a lucid, dissociated clay-mation puppet thing, and this was sort of like that—lifeless, yet having an alive is-ness.

 

I sit on the toilet because I felt like I was going to have diarrhea, but then when I sit down, the feeling goes away. “What is happening? What is happening?” My face contorts like I’m crying, like I’m a kid who feels lost or something. “What have I done? Is this the DMT?” I keep reminding myself that I took a psychedelic, and I sort of imagine what I would say if I went outside and talked to the authorities or called 911 or just talked to a stranger. “I just  . . . took . . . a psychedelic. I took harmala . . . and DMT. My name is *blank* and I work at *blank*, and I just took a psychedelic. I don’t know what’s happening. I don’t know what’s happening. Please help me.” I walk around a little from my bathroom to my bed, and back to the bathroom, occasionally looking at myself in the mirror and talking to myself. Any thoughts or mental images that I have are quickly pushed out as the heightened consciousness pulls me back into the present moment and most of my memory goes. “Memory . . . memory . . . .”

 

I will refer to the heightened consciousness as if it were an entity possessing me, but I might be misinterpreting what happened and I could be self-deluded. It wasn’t full force “Exorcism of Emily Rose” possession, nor did it feel demonic at all, but it felt vaguely other-worldly. Suffice it to say I had never experienced anything like this before and this was not “normal.” I look at myself in the mirror and my face and eyes contort as if to cry. “I don’t know what’s happening.” I stumble around from foot to foot and fall back gently into the wall, then stand up again and keep stumbling around. My head shakes from side to side. Sometimes when my head shakes, I make sounds like Jabba the Hut, and it feels like I’m a duck shaking something off.

 

“What have I done? I don’t know what to do. Can I eat? Am I supposed to eat something?” I sit on the toilet and just lean sideways against the wall. My body feels exhausted like it’s sick, but my head is wide wide awake, yet I can’t really think very much. The heightened consciousness keeps pulling me back to present moment, like it wants me to face something. “What am I supposed to learn? Am I supposed to learn something? What am I supposed to learn? What do you want to teach me?” I walk over to my bed again, briefly stopping by the refrigerator as if to get something to eat, but I don’t take anything.

 

I sit on my bed. “What am I supposed to learn?” My body feels hot and tingly, kind of tired, but my head doesn’t want to sleep at all. I am being pulled constantly awake, and my head feels refreshed. There is a slight feeling of anxiety and maybe fear, but ultimately I know I am okay. This whole thing is just foreign to me. “Am I the teacher? Find . . . just . . . .” I don’t know, man, I think of the first thing that comes to mind. “ . . . just be love. Just . . . be . . . just . . . be . . . love.” I calm down a bit.

 

I walk to the bathroom and sit on the toilet again. “What am I supposed to do?” My head shakes from side to side continually, as if I’m having a seizure. “I don’t know . . . what to do.” I look at the bathroom door and it looks very real. I focus on it, and it becomes augmented a little, like it’s “shining is-ness,” but there are no psychedelic visuals or anything like hallucinations. “I feel like I’m dying. But I’m still here. It keeps coming back. Fuck, it keeps coming back.” I’m referring to the heightened consciousness pulling me awake into the present moment and away from any thoughts.

 

I imagine killing myself. It never turns into something I might actually do, but I don’t know what to do, so I just think of stuff. I can barely do anything. I feel tranquilized, but my head is wide awake. Again, I know I’m not going to hurt myself, but I’m just helping myself navigate through this experience and seeing what works in terms of thoughts or behaviors to make me aligned with “what feels right.” I imagine taking a knife and cutting my throat. Maybe shooting myself in the head. This calms me down a bit.

 

This doesn’t seem to be what the heightened consciousness wants. It seems to want me to see something. It’s not giving me any thoughts. It’s like it’s revealing myself to me through my behavior and feelings in the present moment, but no thoughts or concepts or teachings come. It wants me to figure something out for myself. Like it’s showing me, “This is what you are. No interpretation, no analysis, no concepts. Just . . . raw . . . you. This is what you are. Behold.” But it wasn’t like I felt amazing about myself. It didn’t really mean anything, and it just felt kind of arbitrary. But it was all very very present.

 

It’s almost like the angels of Christmas past and present or whatever, but this thing feels like it’s dragging me by the neck and showing me the present moment again and again, arbitrarily. It’s not saying anything to me, in thoughts or in subtle feelings or vibrations. Whatever is happening, I’m on my own, and if I’m supposed to learn something, I’m supposed to just figure it out. (This is just a way to describe how my body felt like it was possessed; I didn’t feel any sensations of grabbing, I didn’t feel any pain, and I didn’t feel violated in any way, but I did feel controlled by something.)

 

And maybe I didn’t need to learn anything. Maybe it was an experience that meant nothing.

 

Anyway, I look at myself in the mirror. I smile and giggle a little. “I don’t know what’s happening. What the fuck is happening? What the fuck is happening? Please stop. Stop . . . just stop. I get it. I get it. . . . Go away. Please stop.” I oscillate between imagining someone else observing me and seeing how weird this is, and then directly facing the present moment on my own, realizing I’m in a situation that I need to deal with, and imagining other people or other scenarios is not gonna work. I just have to face the present moment on my own. The heightened consciousness is just showing me the present moment—heightened—over and over. I’m not tired of it in an exhausted sense, but I do want it to stop because it feels weird, not blissful like meeting God or anything, and I keep oscillating back down to that nauseous state. And I feel hot and tingly and weak in the legs, almost like I have a fever, but, again, my head feels awake and refreshed.

 

“I get it. I get it.” I want the experience to stop. There are moments of humor where I’m laughing at myself and seeing how strange this is. At one point, while I feel the urge to have diarrhea, I say, “My life . . . purpose . . . my life  . . . purpose . . . is diarrhea. My life purpose is diarrhea.” I laugh at myself. A belly laugh, all the way up to my neck and face, and it feels good.

 

“I get it. Please go away. Please stop.” My face contorts as if I’m crying. “When the fuck is this going to end? Just go away. God . . . is apparently lame. Aaahhh . . . go fuck yourself.” Essentially, I’m talking to the heightened consciousness, or to the experience itself, and then sometimes I talk to myself. I’m not claiming that I was actually experiencing God, but that was my initial intention beforehand, and so it was on my mind and I was just saying what came to mind.

 

I imagine a girl from my childhood. “Alexandra . . . please help me.” I imagine all my coworkers and say their names. “Please help me . . . I love you. Please help me.” All at once I feel anxiety/anguish/sort-of-helplessness, and then the heightened consciousness pulls me out of that and then back into the present moment where thinking barely works and my head feels refreshed. It seems to want me to face the present moment. It’s not quite bullying me, but it is pushing me.

 

At one point, I point at my penis and say, “This is my penis. This is my penis.” I look around and at the ceiling, and I’m pointing things out to the heightened consciousness (or maybe to myself) like a little kid just pointing things out. Just . . . a little kid pointing at its genitals.

 

I grab a peach smoothie from the refrigerator and start drinking. I walk to the mirror. There are gnats flying around. I have an empty garbage bin on the bathroom countertop. Inside the bin, there’s a tray filled with apple cider vinegar. There is plastic wrap covering the top of the garbage bin, except with one corner pulled back. This is so I can catch the gnats since they’re attracted to the vinegar, and then release them outside. As a side note, in my personal life, I have a soft spot for insects, and I practice loving them. And I feel bad when I kill them. Anyway, I look at some of the gnats flying around and they remind me of fireflies. I talk to the gnats, “What am I supposed to do? What the hell is happening?”

 

I sit down on the floor next to my refrigerator. “I just . . . want a cookie. I want a cookie. Can I . . . eat a cookie?” I grab a cookie-flavored Lara bar and I hold it for a while. As I try to open it, my hands are shaking and I can barely move. “What the fuck is happening? I don’t know what’s happening. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. . . . I’m sorry. . . . Please help me.” It takes me forever to open the Lara bar wrapper, and eventually I do it and eat the bar. I chew on it and my jaws is shaking like my hands. But I also have periods where my body just sits still, tired. And with each shake of my jaw, I chew the Lara bar. “Please stop. I just want this to stop.” My face contorts as if to cry, my body feels like it wants to evacuate something, through the mouth or the bottom, and then the heighted consciousness pulls me back to the present moment, head refreshed.

 

My face has the expression of, “Fine, I guess you get your way. I guess I’m just gonna deal with you, then.” My lips purse a little. I get up and go to the mirror. I see my peach smoothie sitting on the bathroom counter, and I don’t remember putting it there. It seems like forever ago that I was drinking that. I pick the bottle up. “I remember you.” I kiss it and smile at myself in the mirror. I put it back in the refrigerator.

 

I occasionally say, “I already said that. I already said that.” I was getting these feelings like I wanted to get out of the trip, and then the heightened consciousness would pull me back, so I figured it wanted me to admit defeat—admit that I’m weak and that I lost—admit that I didn’t know what the hell was going on, and in the face of this thing, I was a slobbering, blumbering fool with his thumb in his ass, begging for help (strangely, though, I never begged for help from my mother or from a generalized mother, I just “begged” for help in general). So every time I got that feeling that the heightened consciousness was trying to “put me in my place,” I got the feeling of, “Okay, you win. I’m weak, you’re powerful. I submit, I surrender.” And then I would say out loud, “I already said that. I already said that.” As if to say, “I already admitted defeat. I already surrendered. You got what you want, now let me go.” But it kept coming back. And I also vaguely forgot that I had previously “surrendered” until the next moment of surrender came.

 

At one point, I’m looking for my mp3 player. “I need Bentihno Massaro. Help me . . . Bentinho . . . help me.” I keep looking for my mp3 player, but I can’t find it, and I have to force myself to look for it because the heightened consciousness keeps forcing me back into the present moment. And I almost forget than I’m looking for it. So I walk around somewhere else for a while, then remember to look for my mp3 player. I give up a couple times. Then I finally find it and sit on my bed and listen to what’s on there. It’s Leo Gura’s “What is God?” episode from his YouTube Channel, so I listen to that for a little while. Then I switch over to Robert Gass’s “Kyrie” because I feel like spiritual music will help me. After about 5 or 8 minutes, I pull out my headphones. The rest of the trip, both before and after this, was all experienced without headphones or any media or music. Just me and silence.

 

I’m on all fours on my bed. “I can always . . . call 911.” Before these words came out, I felt some anxiety, like I needed to fix a problem. After the words came out, I realized this probably wasn’t the way to go, and the heightened consciousness wanted something else from me (also, I just didn’t feel like creating any hassle). It wasn’t so much that my intuition was making decisions, it was more like I was a slave to whatever was happening. Whatever happened just happened. The present moment made decisions by happening. Nothing was thought out beforehand. “This is still fucking happening. I took DMT. I took a psychedelic. When the fuck will this end? What have I done? What . . . have I done? It keeps coming back. It’s very persistent. Why is this lasting so long? . . . Oh, yeah, that fucking harmala . . . .”

 

I walk to the mirror. Again, the heightened consciousness keeps pulling me back to the present moment, and I can’t think about or put my attention on anything else. Past goes, future goes. But it’s not really blissful. It’s almost like I’m surviving it. But when you’re trying to survive the present moment, it’s almost like an oxymoron because you feel slight panic like there’s an emergency, and then it’s just the present moment which is calming, dispelling, and . . . it’s just there. It’s like the heightened consciousness was constantly putting me in a state of emergency, and then soothing me, then emergency, then soothing me (this is an exaggeration to make a point; again, I never really felt in any danger, but it was, indeed, fucking weird). “I thought . . . God was gentle or something. I thought it supposed to listen to me when I asked for something. Please . . . stop. It’s . . . not stopping. It’s not stopping.” I felt like I was being possessed, and if this was God or Pure Awareness, it didn’t give a fuck what I wanted, but it also wasn’t harsh or painful. It just kept showing me the present moment. Oscillating between sick/nauseous and heightened consciousness/head refreshed. “Am I being punished?” Nah, I’m not being punished. I don’t know what this is, but it’s not malevolent . . . but it doesn’t seem kind or gentle or sweet either.

 

Every time my mind tried to imagine something, like a scenario, or asking my coworkers or family for help, the present moment would just replace my imagination, and it was like I was imagining the present moment, but then the present moment was just there in front of me, so there was no need (or ability) to imagine anything. The heightened consciousness kept slamming me (exaggeration for clarity) and slamming me back into the present moment, like a bully smashing my head against a wall. Of course, being slammed into the present moment doesn’t really hurt, but it was very persistent . . . almost obnoxious. “I don’t know what to do. I don’t know what to do. Please help me. Please help me. Please stop. Just . . . stop.”

 

I look at myself in the mirror and my head shakes again, and it’s like that scene in “Fight Club” where Brad Pitt gives his speech about the “all-seeing crap of the universe” and the screen starts shaking. So my head shakes and shakes, and I just look at my head in the mirror as it shakes, allowing it to look like that “Fight Club” scene. This happens a couple more times throughout the “trip.”

 

I sit on the toilet. Lean sideways against the wall. I feel sick, and then I feel present. Oscillation. Continual oscillation. I feel weighted down on the toilet like you do when you’ve expelled a lot of vomit and diarrhea, and I feel empty (again, nothing actually came out). Everything was very real. Every thought I had was just pushed away by the present moment. “Memory . . . memory . . . .” My memory was very vague, and the present moment was the obnoxious answer to everything. “What am I supposed to do? What have I done? What the fuck is happening. I don’t know what’s happening.” My head shakes like a mini seizure or like Jabba the Hut or like a duck shaking off water. I make a sound with my lips like Jabba.

 

Sometimes my breathing is shallow and then I take sudden inhalations—sudden gasps for air, like you do when you just wake up from a dream and shake your head a little. “3 or 4 hours. This thing will last only 4 hours. It’s going away. Just stop. It’s . . . stopping.” It wasn’t quite stopping, but it was fading a little. I was saying this more as a “spell” to cast this thing away. My arms flail occasionally. Like mini seizures, or when you just feel so sick and nauseous you have to move because you can’t stand being still. “Okay. I’m with you, man. I here for you, man. It’s okay if this lasts maybe 12 hours. A 12-hour trip? . . . Sure. 8:30pm . . . I started at 8:30pm. So . . . by 8:30 in the morning, if this thing hasn’t gone away, I’ll ask for help. Yeah. Okay.” Heightened consciousness slams me back into the present moment. Plans don’t last very long, but I do remember this plan since I said it out loud, and it feels good to have a vague plan.

 

I lay on my bed. “Please help me. Please help me. Just go away. I get it. I get it. Just go away.” I am reminded of a time I was babysitting this kid named Nick. We were playing with Legos I think, and for some reason, I felt like whistling (I think it was “Summertime”). I was just whistling “Summertime” for a really really long time while we played with Legos, and eventually Nick asked me, “Could you stop whistling please?” And his tone showed he was pretty annoyed with me. That’s how I felt about this heightened consciousness. It was annoying me. “I get it. I get it.” I sort of felt a whining feeling as I said this, maybe like I was being lectured by someone, but the lecture didn’t resonate, and I just wanted them to shut up. “I get it. Go away. I get it. Please stop. Please *gasp* stop. Please help me. No one . . . is going to help me. No one . . . is going to help me.” I laugh a little. My face contorts as if to cry.

 

A thought of Leonardo DiCaprio from “The Wolf of Wall Street” crawling on Quaaludes enters my mind, and I laugh a little. I lay in stillness on the side of my bed. “. . . No one . . . is going . . . to help me.” I feel rather peaceful, even though the words seem panicky. This is a foreign experience, and I’m not sure what’s going on, but I don’t feel in any real danger. Like waiting for a fever to pass, maybe? I don’t know . . . .

 

I lay on my back, very still. I grab my blanket. “This is a good spot. This is perfect. This is good. This is good.”

 

12am-ish

I fall asleep. Not deep sleep, I don’t think, but more like a shallow nap, but I was definitely more in the subconscious state than wakeful. During my shallow sleep, there were still those nauseous, anxious-yet-not-really-fearful qualities that were there during the trip, but again, it wasn’t as wakeful as during the trip. And I don’t really remember any dreams I might have had.

 

3:15 am-ish

I wake up and realized the DMT has worn off. I don’t particularly feel like writing about it, so I just lay there and get dressed in a sweater and leg thermals because I do feel cold. Eventually, at about 3:50 am, I go to my laptop and start writing all this.

 

4am

As I write all this, I get up and have my first bowel movement since maybe late the previous morning. Again, there was no vomit or bowel movements during the trip.
 

 

Reflection:

I don’t really know what the lesson was. That thing I said during the trip about “just be love” might be the lesson from this. That idea feels pretty good, I suppose, and it felt pretty good when I said it, but there wasn’t any deep resonation in my heart like a profound insight or anything. Or maybe it was just showing me how deep and real (and refreshingly obnoxious?) presence can be. I mean, it didn’t feel deep in a profound sense, only in the sense that it was lucid, and thinking was very difficult over the power of the presence.

 

Or maybe the “somewhat benevolent bullying” was meant to reveal subtle levels of pride within me that I wasn’t previously aware of, and which I must now learn to surrender. And maybe I need to learn to develop true devotion, but I thought I had a certain degree of devotion already, but maybe this heightened consciousness revealed to me that my level of devotion is actually rather pathetic, and it’s actually tinged with pride and arrogance. Or perhaps this is meant to show me that I might be bullying myself in the way I approach self-inquiry, or jnana yoga, and that I need to infuse more self-love. So maybe I need to focus more on kriya and especially bhakti yoga. Self-love does seem to be a major theme for my life, so that could be it . . . . I’ve been practicing it plenty, but I could always deepen it. Or maybe it was showing me that I need to be more intense with my self-inquiry.

 

Maybe I was a little reckless with this trip and should have prepared more by deeply establishing my intention throughout the previous week and keeping my mind a lot more calm than it was (it was fairly calm, but it could have been more calm). There was a slight feeling like the DMT was telling me that it wasn’t something to fuck around with or jump into quickly. The DMT (if it did, in fact, work properly and wasn’t faulty because of my extraction method) wasn’t quite punishing me or acting malevolent because there was a sense it was trying to show me something. So it was forgiving in that sense, I suppose. I’m not sure if it felt wise, though. It just was. What happened is what happened.

 

But I was able to walk around and talk and stuff. I was barely able to do things because I felt tranquilized, but I could activate my will and focus, and then I was able to walk and do things. So maybe I didn’t take enough, because I feel like you’re not supposed to be able to move during a DMT trip. Maybe the DMT I extracted is faulty somehow, but it definitely isn’t a pure “dud.” It definitely has effects. I’m still not fearful of it, but I’m not necessarily eager to have that experience again. I suppose next time, if this same thing happens again, I won’t be afraid to take another 20 or maybe 40mg on top of the initial 40mg. I read that the safe dosage is 30 to 80mg.

 

This was, overall, a “bad” trip I guess, but it wasn’t really all that bad. But that’s certainly the aftertaste. I don’t feel like I just experienced something blissful and wonderful, but it wasn’t terrifying or horrifying enough to make me turn away from experiencing it again. I really don’t think I reached that threshold breakthrough point, but I’m also not sure if my DMT extraction method is 100% perfect.

 

My first trip, nothing happened, so that eliminated fear of DMT entirely. This was my second trip, and although it wasn’t blissful or divine, but rather weird and strange, it was still other-worldly enough and present/heightened consciousness enough to keep me intrigued and to want to explore more. I’m gonna have to extract more DMT, though. I’m also still not completely sure how much of the effects was the harmala, and how much was DMT. Maybe I’ll have to take harmala by itself to find out.

 

This was a little weird, a little lame, and it almost feels like there’s nothing worth reporting, but it was other-worldly and strange enough that I’m convinced something legit was going on during this trip. I’ve never experienced anything like this before, and I’ll continue exploring . . . mindfully and with respect.