I didn’t commit suicide.
I had a plan, had it all laid out, and knew when I was ready.
Proceeded to get life saving-ly drunk & passed out. Woke up with a knife in my hand the next morning & knew I need to go to the hospital.
Cleaned myself up, called in sick to work, & went to UCLA Med.
Still here today thankfully. And as much as I appreciate what bourbon did for me that night, I have slowed my consumption significantly & have my head on straight.
Depression made me want to die more than once but my alcohol use led to me almost killing myself accidentally during one of the episodes. The 9mm I had just been holding to my head seconds earlier discharged because I was shitfaced and was handling it completely sloppily. I shot the ceiling but luckily nothing else. It scared me sober instantly and I realized how close I came. I got help too and I’m doing better now.
I’m glad you’re still here.
Glad to hear you’re doing better! I love firearms, but do not allow myself to own one for that very reason.
If I owned a firearm, there’s a really good chance I’d either be in jail for stupidity or in the ground at this stage.
Had some people over, and a joint started getting passed around. One of my friends took a couple steps and face planted. Like out fucking cold. I get up to see what happened, and I face plant. My whole body is numb, and I can’t move.
Come to realize an asshat who I never liked dipped the joint in hydrocodine. It wasn’t an awful experience, but I wouldn’t have touched it if I had known. I would have least liked to have been on a couch instead of face first on the kitchen floor.
That’s super fucked up.
While on DMT when I was younger, I legitimately thought I had died, the gods and fractals all went away and I couldn’t feel anything and I thought, oh no, this is it. And weirdly… I came to terms with it rather quickly. I thought, my family is going to be so sad, but I guess there’s nothing I can do, and felt a strange peace. Then I snapped back into reality and breathed a sigh of relief.
I took a break from the DMT after that
I took LSD, DMT, and weed one night several years ago. This was near the end of my experimentation phase with psychedelics before I finally came to my senses and chilled out so we’re talking heroic-level dosing, too. While peaking on something like 880μg, I smoked some weed to intentionally send the acid into overdrive and then took a couple big hits off a DMT vape.
Instant ego death.
At first I was just in awe of what I was seeing and experiencing, but soon I realized that I could no longer talk or even think linguistically. Language completely fails at some point when you’re that far gone but I was too far gone to remember that fact, let alone comprehend it enough for it to calm me down. I didn’t even know what I was, let alone who. I had a sense that I was a being of some sort who had once been able to communicate but I didn’t understand why I couldn’t anymore. Panic set in. Part of me was still dimly aware that I had taken something or at least done something to myself, even if I didn’t understand it was the cause of what was basically a temporary psychotic break, so I came to the conclusion that I had erased my brain like a hard drive that doesn’t even have an operating system anymore and that I would have to re-learn everything from scratch.
When I came down enough to find (and be able to use) my phone, I called a friend to come meet me at 3am (true bro) so that the re-education could begin immediately. By the time he got there, though, I realized that I couldn’t have wiped my memory since I remembered my friend and that I was, in fact, a fucking idiot. We had a good laugh and I decided to take it easy with the drugs after that.
That’s a legend of a friend for sure
Same thing happened to me! I did not come to terms with it though, it definitely changed my mentality in a bad way for a while.
It kind of helps that I’ve always had a kind of disconnect with the concept of death. I don’t know if this is like an autism thing or what, but dealing with loss seems to affect me less than other people I know.
I’m still sorry to hear that fucked you up though, hope you bounced back
I had a similar experience with ketamine. I accidentally did a line that was a little too long and k-holed for the first time. During the trip I convinced myself I went insane and that I would have had to live the rest of my life inside the mind of an insane person, with no chance to ever experience the outside world again. But I was ok with that, I was like “well, it happened. Nothing I can do about it. I just got to roll with it now” lol. Then I snapped out of it. Never touched ketamine that weekend again, but the following week I wanted to repeat the experience.
Ketamine is not a psychedelic but a khole can make you experience stuff that maybe only DMT can. Illusion of timelessness, lack of physical dimensions, absence of linearity in time and space, it’s something I’ve only been able to experience during my first k-holes
While tripping on a large dose of LSD, I decided to practice with my new and incredibly sharp wood chisels on a block of pine.
Amazingly I didn’t cut myself at all.
My friend found a stop motion animated clay Don Quixote, where the clay work was rough and you could see thumbprints. It was the perfect vibe for tripping and carving, the gouges I was making in the wood looked like the clay, and bit by bit I made that block into a volcano.
In order to do that I kept twisting my right arm (I’m left handed) clockwise, and when I came down from the hallucinogens, the nerves in my arm went dead. Hand just slid off the keyboard.
It was fine twenty minutes later. And that’s my story, the best acid trip I ever had. Worked through my obsessions a bit and let go of them.
In the following weeks I asked three women out and got shot down each time instead of thinking about doing so for a month and being a creep.
Worked through my obsessions a bit and let go of them. In the following weeks I asked three women out and got shot down each time instead of thinking about doing so for a month and being a creep.
Unironically, good on you. That’s character progress and it takes a lot of courage and self-confidence to accept rejection in a mature way and keep trying regardless. For what it’s worth I as an Internet stranger think we should help more people do the same sort of things.
Thank you, that was a long standing problem for me, and it got a lot easier to just put myself out there and see what would happen. Not just romantically but socially in general.
It served me well.
I accidentally took 300mg THC as my first dose ever. I remember thinking every thought possible and the opposite of each one all at the same time while I was dragged through the universe by my neck with visuals like inside the monolith in 2001. The last thing I remembered before losing consciousness was being thrown into some kind of light like a star or white hole or maybe just a really bright nebula? Next thing I remember was waking up in the ER propped up over a bucket full of puke. I’m willing to give the experience 2/5 stars just because if there is a god I probably met them in whatever that bright light was and I’d hate to be a rude houseguest by talking shit.
Oh my god, I read the first line and whispered ‘noooo!!’ 😱 That makes me laying in bed, paranoid and staring at the ceiling for 12 hours from my first edible sound like a walk in the park.
Did you ever try weed again, or was that it for you? Because that might have put me off it for good!
That was me when I tried mushrooms, everything was going great I was talking up a storm with my friend about world history and traditions and who knows what about the universe and then I felt like I needed to puke but couldn’t so I figured maybe it was a poop but that wasn’t much and I realized the mushroom was already in me and wasn’t getting out so I said I’ll just go to sleep and sleep it off.
Tossing and turning for hours I felt like I was going to die so I got my dogs to come sleep in my bed so I wouldn’t die alone, then hours later I guess I finally dazed off and I went I to the afterlife and saw how if you get buried your mind gets returned back to the main fungus and how our bodies are just things to spread the spore and why we like exploring so much so we can go die somewhere new and be buried and our mind will go into a hibernation where we see all the knowledge of everyone else who died there until eventually you get to choose when you want to go back out
For the next week or so I felt so paranoid and scared but eventually my existential crisis I was silently going through beforehand went away and I felt happy for what I had and just changed my perspective and priorities. I started going out for walks instead of trying to squeeze in some time for gaming, I just craved to be outside as much as I could.
I wouldn’t do it again but I’m glad I did it
“guess I finally dazed off and I went I to the afterlife and saw how if you get buried your mind gets returned back to the main fungus and how our bodies are just things to spread the spore and why we like exploring so much so we can go die somewhere new and be buried and our mind will go into a hibernation where we see all the knowledge of everyone else who died there until eventually you get to choose when you want to go back out”
Strangely, that’s not a completely uncommon experience.
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i am ashamed to say that i have driven when drunk. this was over a decade ago and i don’t remember the 13km trip taken late at night.
i am thankful that the car was found intact on inspection the next morning and i hadn’t hit anybody.
but that was the last time i drove drunk. i was a prize idiot to do so–as is anyone else who does so.
Same. Keeping the details purposefully vague even though the statute of limitations has long since expired.
I was out with friends having fun and actually stayed at the bar until they turned on the lights at closing and kicked us all out. I knew I was drunk but figured I should hit up the Taco Bell on the other side of the parking lot and eat in my car. Surely that would soak up enough alcohol to sober me up, right? I recall taking the most direct route possible to get back home, keeping my speed just below the limit. No cruise control so I had to focus as much as possible when it’s late, you’re tired and drunk and have a stomach full of grease.
The middle portion of the drive home was on a single long major arterial surface street. Luckily there weren’t any red lights since I doubt I could’ve stopped in time. The most terrifying moment was when I saw a cop car approaching me from behind. As I had a mild panic attack, he passed me up, didn’t turn on his lights, and went about his evening.
The rest of the trip home was uneventful. I got home safely, swore to myself I’d never be that stupid again, went to bed, and woke up the next morning probably still reeking of cigarette smoke and booze.
This is the single thing I am most ashamed of that I’ve ever done in my entire life. It’s more shameful than the time I lost my cool and shouted the n word at a kid when we were in middle school. It’s more shameful than the time I walked around high school with an unknown to me giant rip in my pants that let everyone see my sponge bob undies. It’s more shameful than when my dad caught me beating my meat to a Runner’s World magazine because I couldn’t find a Playboy.
I am very lucky that the cop just passed me by. I am very lucky that I didn’t have to drunk call my family at 4am to come bail me out of jail. I am very very lucky that I didn’t hurt myself or someone else.
True to my word, I’ve never done it again. I don’t drink at all any more, and even when I still did, I had a very strict two drink limit for myself if I was driving.
I don’t think I’ve ever even mentioned this when I’ve been in therapy. I’ve been in a relationship for over a decade and I’ve never even told my partner about it.
So yeah Lemmy. Learn from my mistake. Please. If you plan to get fucked up, have a safe ride home that doesn’t involve you driving.
Got defibrillated in the back of an ambulance. I had 6 or 8 caffeinated beverages over an 8 hour period which also involved a 7+ mile walk across town on an 80+ degree Fahrenheit Saturday morning. I was feelin’ pretty great and thought it could use the perfect compliment, so I drove across town and bought some gray-market d9-thc gummies. I believe i took a ~25mg dosage worth of gummies. An hour later my heart rate was very high and very noticeable. I couldnt catch my breath and i had begun to panic. That’s when i called for paramedics. when they arrived my heart-rate was 160 bpm and still climbing. We got in the ambulance. They applied the the pads for the AED. I was still relatively conscious when i heard the AED call out “one-eigthy.” A few moments later I heard it call out “two-hundred.” That’s when I very suddenly jerked forward and moaned from the shock and then I felt my heart rate begin to slow a little. In the hospital we learned I was deficient in potassium which made sense given the pathology. The shock was surprisingly painless and I would recommend it if ever needed. The panic attack and the residual albeit minor case of ptsd, those I would not…
I’ve since learned how both substances work physiologically and while they feel like psychological polar-opposites, they have compounding effects on the heart and circulatory system. I am religious about limiting my caffeine intake now, two years later. —No more hippie speed-balls either
It sounds like you had an episode of supraventricular tachycardia. The medics set the machine to shock at the same time the pulse is going through your heart. This is known as cardioversion rather than defibrillation, though the method and results are very similar.
https://acls.com/articles/shockable-rhythms/
https://en.m.wikipedia.org/wiki/Supraventricular_tachycardia
Stoned off my ass, decided to take a shower. Got in, water’s too hot, turned the knob. Water got hotter, turned the knob the other way, water got hotter. Panicked, turned the knob hard the other way, now burning. Panicked harder, turned the knob hard the other way, water now lethally hot. Finally got my shit together, turned the water off and went to bed.
Drank way too much, played magic the gathering with a friend using my unicorn deck, and loudly shouted “unicorn” every time I played one and took a shot of tequila right after. Around halfway through the game I shouted “unicorn”, followed it up with a “damn it”, and casually walked to the bathroom and threw up.
Not terribly alarming I guess, but it was memorable.
I had a “condition” when I drank to much, that I called the “The ‘ol Burp & Purge.”
Anytime I drink too much, especially drinks with carbonation, I hit a point where I know I have to burp, but that burp is going to bring everything back up with it.
I got to the point that I could I calmly state “I need to burp” and I’d retreat to a bathroom.
My roommate at the time knew exactly what was going on. He’d seen numerous occasions where I did not go to the bathroom to burp & knew what followed.
I eventually learned that everyone else we drank profusely with just assumed I was a ridiculously polite drunk.
I don’t know if I would call it alarming as much as eye-opening.
I had been flying commercial all day (coach), and had saved a bunch of Valium specifically for when I got home. I eventually discovered that Valium doesn’t do anything for me unless I’m particularly keyed up, but at the time I thought the issue was the dose. because 10 and 15 mg wasn’t making me feel anything, I assumed I needed to take 25 or 30, so that’s exactly what I did.
woke up the next morning to find a half eaten bowl of plain ramen noodles in the sink, the still-full bullion packet in the trash. I had to go and check my security cameras, I’d gotten up, made the noodles, eaten half of them, stuck the bowl in the sink and then went back to bed, in a complete state of blackout. ordinarily, when I’m high, I know better than to attempt certain things. I don’t turn the oven on, because I’m going to leave it on. obviously I don’t drive. I don’t post on social media, or have anything other than one word replies to anybody who texts me (other than the people who think it’s funny when I’m baked). the fact that I had been in a blackout state and still somehow felt comfortable turning the stove on and boiling water meant I didn’t know that I was fucked up. the fact that I didn’t use the seasoning packet means that I was clearly not in full control my faculties. I don’t take benzos recreationally anymore
I don’t get high or drunk, but I take Ambien for sleep and the very funky things I’ve done on it could fill a scary book, although some of it is just embarrassing like adding someone on Facebook that I would have been too shy to before. The most notable thing I did was host a whole antifascist meeting with some very prominent people and show them how we catfished a very famous white supremacist into sending us pictures of his penis.
I was reading up on Aaron Swartz once before bed while hitting a weed pen and I had somehow convinced myself I was facing felony charges and had to go to court to fight jail time and I lost it… unplugged my computer from the wall and shoved my face in my pillow until I was able to calm down and realize my foolishness before going to sleep.
Got myself lost in the woods at night for a good hour or so. Overgrowth was largely covering the desire path I regularly walk, and when I turned around to head back, I couldn’t find it at all.
Knew the general direction back to the main trail, so I opened my map on my phone and started walking that way in what I thought was a straight line… Problem is, my phone is screwy and the arrow showing where I’m facing points 90° to the side… After a half hour of trudging my way through the brush, I finally saw a clearing, and when I got to it… it was the same spot I started at, except I came from the other side.
Somehow I had walked in a massive circle, and my phone (which I was using as my flashlight) battery was getting concerning low, as I had failed to charge it earlier.
Tried again and eventually managed to get back to the main trail, but I was definitely starting to panic by the time I did.
That is interesting. I read somewhere that we tend to walk in circles when we think we are walking straight.
The most alarming thing would be self-harm stuff. The most interesting thing was working on a painting. When I got to the edge of the canvas, I started incorporating objects from around my room to extend the design. By the time I started coming down from the shrooms, the floor was wall to wall covered with objects arranged in an elaborate swirling pattern emanating out from a painting of a woman screaming with rage. After that I was able to accept my father’s death.
