Last night I decided to finish off a little over half a bottle of 100 I had from a previous trip. I'd eaten normally that day and have a pretty high tolerance, after a couple other trips this week. Times are approximate.
T- 0:00: Took 950mg at once, roughly 8pm. I watched Rick and Morty and waited to come up. I've found that whatever your first dose, the amount you take at once sets the tone for the trip, and any re-dosing really just extends it and amplifies the negative effects.
DPH has a body load that I fucking love, it's not necessarily opiate-like, but it's just as pronounced. However, sometimes you draw unlucky cards and get the other bodyload, a skin-crawling dysphoria, and total inability to get comfortable or fall asleep. Essentially 8 hours of unrelievable torturous agony, emphasised by a fluttering, pounding, dysrhythmic heart rate, and racing disconnected thoughts of an uncomfortably taboo nature.
T- 0:45 I feel the effects creeping in. Visually, I'm seeing auras and the electric jelly that coats surfaces in that place, mainly solid colored surfaces, particularly light and dark ones. I get up to take a shower as I'm becoming antsy and am noticing a tightness in my chest, that, while it seems to be very common, paired with the paranoia and anxiety of a DPH come-up, always skeeves me out. I find that what you fixate on becomes your reality, in general as well, but certainly in the context of a DPH trip. The further you go into anxiety or paranoia, the harder it becomes to dig yourself out of the hole. I refer to it as "getting spun/spun-out."
I think DPH users underestimate it's reality altering abilities, even on things in the external environment. Maybe it would be more accurate to attribute the reality altering powers to the mind, where-as the diphenhydramine gets one to a mental place of fluid expectations and childlike naivety, which enables one to alter reality without such a thick wall of expectation, imposed probability and so-called "truth". Those familiar with magic and the occult might have an easier time understanding what I mean. Essentially inducing a much sought after in occult and meditative circles of void-mind or no-mind.
T- 0:50: In the shower, I hear my girlfriend moaning on the couch, and talking to someone, though no one is supposed to be there. I know immediately that it's the DPH playing it's usual tricks, basing the hallucinations on deep rooted emotional and psychological concepts. If you bring something sacred to her (DPH), she will quickly turn it inside out and use your illusion of sacrosanct nature against you . I'm very very interested in knowing what a DPH trip would be like for someone who was truly and completely without fear or sacred concepts. Would a trip even be possible? Would a renunciate zen master trip the same way I do? I'd love to know what Jim Morrison thought of deleriants. I know a story of him eating a datura root and going blind for three days, having to be carted around in a wheel-barrow, mumbling nonsense. He is quoted as utterly despising and finding no value in it. Interesting given his comment on fear. "Expose yourself to your greatest fear, after that fear has no power over you. After that you are free."
I understand that atropine and scopolamine are poisons and thus the blindness and bodily issues are more or less inevitable, especially in datura which is impossible to accurately dose. But what was his state of mind like for those three days, I wonder. What experience would lead such a self-professed fearless and drug-and-spirituality-fluent being, so utterly threatened and afraid as to not even see ANY value in one of the most powerful hallucinogens on earth?
The content of the trip is so deeply personal and psychological, even the hallucinations seem to operate by seemingly altering ones memories, the shorter it can get your short term memory, the more power it has to fuck with your head. Very well illustrated by the episode of Rick and Morty with the mind parasites who multiply and manifest in reality through fake memories generated in an unsuspecting host.
T- 1:00: Even though I knew it was a trick, the completely realistic nature of it still touched a sensitive psychological button. I got out and shared my experience with her and we watched some TV and talked until I was able to mellow out. Very strange how one can KNOW something isn't real, and still be affected by it. Alan Watts said something to the effect of "The human body exists INSIDE the mind. The mind exists outside of the body." and it's difficult to grasp that concept for me personally when in sober waking reality, but on DPH it becomes such profound common sense, only to slip back into obscurity in my mind as the drug wears off.
I understand that it isn't a popular idea in this community, but being an on and off user for nearly a decade and having taken as high as 3 grams on multiple occasions, it would take a good deal to convince me that there isn't a deeply supernatural aspect to deleriant drugs. The fact that it simultaneously works magic on the external environment right before your very eyes, while at the same time making one incomprehensible and prone to magical thinking, seems like just another one of her tricks. It's so like her, it seems like exactly the kind of thing she would come up with.
Surely some of you get that?
T- 1:30: The next hour or so consisted of the usual high-dose fare and onset effects. Severe tremors all over, drastically reduced short-term memory, twitching outlines, squirming translucent electrical jelly on the walls, ceiling, floor, and many other surfaces, baseless paranoia (i.e. Constantly impulsively peering through the blinds, jumping at the smallest sound, with absolutely no idea what it is you're paranoid about.)
T- 2:00: Time begins slipping. I wandered the house, unable to find any room I was looking for, as if I was in the same house in a slightly different dimension. I kept hallucinating people I'd seen in passing walking around town, knocking on the front door and then coming in asking for x,y, and z thing. I was able to reason that it wasn't happening, but it didn't make them go away, it just made them irritable and impatient, before getting quiet and fading out of existence, just to have the instance repeat with some other random person minutes later.
T- 2:30: I can no longer differentiate false memories from real ones. Constantly having to ask my sitter/gf "Hey did that just happen? Was x just here? Did the tv just say y?" and everytime I got a "no", I even hallucinated asking a nonsense question and getting a reply repeatedly. It started to reach a point where I was hallucinating my hallucinations, in a sense. If you've never experienced that directly it's difficult to explain precisely. Basically, I would remember or unwillingly imagine something trippy happening in a perfect replica of my environment, only to seconds later realize/remember that nothing actually happened. It was as if I was having a trip and then having it erased, men in black style, almost but not perfectly the moment after. Leaving a seconds recollection, perpetually fading away like a dream upon waking. These hallucinations persisted but all external perceptions remained solid and normal, to the best of my admittedly completely unreliable, hazy, confusing recollection. Beyond a certain threshhold it seems to sort of turn inside out, with eiriel being the point where external hallucinations entirely give way to internal hallucinations. I don't find it at all enjoyable and certainly don't ever seek it out as an effect. It's like seeing something youre not supposed to, only to have it instantly wiped and replaced with an uneventful memory, only its happening in a completely jarring manner to your perfect surprise, over and over in five or less second intervals for what feels like endless hours and simultaneously no time at all. Music takes on a character of sacredness or holy truth or a certain feeling like "the voice of god" or divine truth, no matter what the normal sober content is. The lyrics don't change externally, it's more like your internal dictionary is swapped out for god's and anything filtered in through your speech center becomes translated as ultimate divine truth or wisdom. Sort of like having a babel-fish for ultimate truth.
After this I blacked out and apparently stayed asleep, talking very very off the wall and sometimes disturbing nonsense, sometimes even opening my eyes or sounding completely lucid and awake despite not in any way indicating that i wasnt sleeping, even apparently asking questions or initiating normal lucid conversation only to be found to be dead asleep when my sitter would reply.
Honestly I'm just getting tired of writing and don't feel like summarizing. Becoming a little frustrated that I can't remember more or seem to muster up anything else to say about it. I feel like I'm being manipulated to feel spent or tired of talking about it, rather than it being my own sentiment, like i'm not supposed to be having those thoughts or sharing these ideas, or essentially thinking and saying and remebering what it is I want to think/say/remember, its not like I can't, it feels more like I am immediately psychically punished by an unseen force if i choose to continue.
Fucking completely beyond interesting, as always.