Torture, Hell, the Brink of Insanity and Back

[hajimumtaz]

Greetings. I wanted to share with you an intense, life-changing experience that I had 8 years ago but that has resurfaced due to my recent salvia divinorum use.

Background:

In the 4 years leading up to the day in question, I had used drugs very heavily. I tried every drug at my disposal with the exception of crack cocaine (though was unfamiliar with esoteric enthenogens and had only heard of the mysterious, elusive, ever-sought DMT). I had been addicted to meth a year before, and to heroin for the preceding six months.

In the process of exploring (and abusing) drugs, I became aware of some wonderful and interesting combinations; some of my favorite combinations had a silly psychedelic-onomatopoeia:

WAM! - weed, acid and meth (favorite)
KARMA - ketamine, acid, rolls, marijuana, (meth)amphetamines
CRAK - canabis, rolls, acid, ketamine
HAK - heroin, acid, klonopin (favorite)
DNA - DXM, Nitrous, Acid

I also need to mention one of my absolute favorite combinations which unfortunately does not have a cute acronym: ketamine and acid. I had also tried mescaline many times and mushrooms a few times. I had been selling acid for a couple years, so I *always* had it available in large quantities. On average, I was taking 10 gel tabs twice weekly, but one night I had gone as far as taking 25 hits of blotter. Suffice to say, it was an intense couple days. The point of sharing this background is two-fold: 1) to share my wonderful (albeit admittedly very cheesy) drug combination names 2) to point out that leading up to the day in question, I had extensive experience with psychedelics in general and LSD in particular.

The day in question:

It was my friend Angel's birthday. Besides me, Ivan and Angel, my girlfriend Lacy and her sister Lorie were there. I had been using heroin intravenously for the preceding six months, but just a few weeks prior had moved to snorting it several times daily in an attempt to become "more responsible". So we together acquired a large repertoire of "candy": meth, heroin, acid, cannabis and rolls. That morning, I had snorted some meth and heroin when I first awoke. A few (five?) hours later, we decided to take some acid. Now, against my every instinct, I took only 2 gel tabs (my friends took 2 or 3 each). I normally wouldn't bother taking less than 3 -- after all, I regularly went to work or school after taking 3. But that day I wanted to be able to spend some time with my friends, and wasn't interested in dark-rooming it alone all day (which was almost without exception my preferred setting for LSD experiences. For me, the main benefit in taking LSD was its mind-expanding quality. I would often sit for hours purposely trying to get my brain to think thoughts and believe beliefs that it had no right thinking or believing).

About twenty minutes after taking my measly 2 hits, I could tell something just wasn't right. The attendant body load was far too heavy -- more speedy than the meth I had taken earlier, more visual than peaking on 5 hits could be, more, more, more, more, more. I suddenly felt very hot and strange, and decided to take a shower.

So at T+30 minutes, I have been in the shower for only a minute or so. I look around, and note that the walls are leaning towards me, the ceiling is subtly sinking, the water streams are rivers of brilliant color, and my flesh looks like it is hanging limply on bone. i nervously consider that this is *not* how I should be feeling from taking this much acid, this soon. Then *something* happened -- I watched a single, infinitely significant drop of water sloooowly fall and hit the floor, and *everything* changed. I will never be able to explain precisely what happened, but I do know that my girlfriend checked on me and would later comment that I appeared to be sleeping standing up. She jostled me and I opened my eyes, completely terrified. I cannot remember if I had blacked out, or if I have forever blocked out the preceding moments.

I got out of the shower and watched as the world melted into complete chaos. I tried to dry off but I don't think I managed to do a good job. I struggled to dress and ventured into Angel's bedroom. Sitting down in the corner, I watched as everyone's gaze turned towards me, and listened to the resulting spontaneous peals of nervous and giddy laughter. "What? Why are you all staring at me?!" They laughed and assured me that I was just being paranoid. The visuals are getting more potent by the moment, and I affirm to myself that I have never felt like this -- not after taking 25 blotter, not after taking 70 dxm caps, not after vast quantities of K and 15 hits. Just then I noticed I was wet, especially my pants. I worry that I wet myself, and start to shake a little [In reality, I just hadn't dried off completely]. I try to express this fear aloud, but I find myself unable to form coherent sentences. Angel leads me up on to her bed, to try and relax.

I keep flashing back to the moment before I blacked out in the bathtub, and I keep trying to recall what happened. Each time I do though, I notice that I am becoming more unhinged. Suddenly, and without any warning, my world goes black.

I open my eyes to a scene of sheer and near unspeakable terror. I am wet. Why? I look down at my hands and my legs and find them covered in blood. I unconsciously drop a long, serrated butcher knife out of my right hand and look down on the floor. My friend Lorie is hunched over face down, and I watch as time plays backwards at tremendous speed for a moment: the knife flies back into my hand, i am pulled in an instant forward as my knife tears into her. In another instant, my hand is raised up again and the knife is clattering against the ground. I cry out "No no no! I didn't do this! I didn't mean to. It wasn't me, is the acid I swear." I look over and see Ivan's face,
menacing and dangerous. *flash*

(continued below)

[hajimumtaz]

I am sitting on the bed again, there are bloodstains on the floor, but they are hard to see in the poor lighting conditions. I see Ivan again, and he's grimacing, staring in my eyes. He calms me "Just relax, there's nothing we can do now but wait". I reply "wait for what? Oh my god, where is Lorie?". He stares into my eyes and I watch his eyes go completely white "You know". His voice takes on a tone of frightening, unearthly rage "You know where she is and what has happened to her -- what you did to her." *flash*

[Later I learn that I was "speaking in tongues" and that right before Ivan left the room, I started foaming at the mouth. I cannot confirm if this is possible from LSD, but all of my friends who were there that day swear this it happened.]

I am alone in the room, reclined on the bed. I breathe a sigh of relief because I suddenly feel somewhat normal. [This was the first of seemingly infinite occasions where I was given hope, and it was torn away from me after taunting me with escape.] I lean against the wall and sit up... Then I hear a radio "kkkkuuuuuuuuhhhhhh" -- clear as day, the static of a radio "kkkkuuuuuuuuhhhhhh" from outside, on the other side of the bedroom wall. I see a shadow out of the corner of my eye in the window behind the bed. Scared, I lurch to the other end of the bed and stare at the window. I hear a door slam behind me, and notice that without thinking I had stepped off the bed and slammed the door behind me, but only the sound of the door slamming reminded me of my actions. Then I notice the floor -- bloody footprints. I look over at my foot, and see a single drop of blood, pooling at the edge of my foot and slooowly fall and hit the floor. *flash*

I am up against the wall again, and the back of my head _hurts_ [Later, I was informed that while foaming at the mouth, I repeatedly slammed my head into the wall. Was I trying to knock myself unconscious?]. For a moment, I feel normal again. I am in my friends house, I took some acid, and I am freaking out. Nothing I can't handle, right? Not right. I hear the radios outside again, and see the shadow of a gun, clearly outlined on the wall. The light from the window was casting the shadow. Not trusting my senses, I crooked my head back and just barely peered out the window, knowing I would convince myself that no one was there. Then I saw a face, covered with a glass face plate.

The SWAT team! The tip of his machine gun was pointed at me, and all around the yard were a dozen or more SWAT team members, hiding in various places with their guns trained on the window. I hear a helicopter overhead. I'm scared, so fucking scared. I realize that I must have done what I thought was only part of a bad trip -- I killed one of my best friends, likely because of a hallucination. I see the blood on my hands and scream. *flash*

The radios are clear now. I can hear specific words and codes "187, roger 187. We have the subject surrounded. He is armed and dangerous". suddenly, my girlfriend enters the room and says simply "Goodbye". I scream "Nooo! Please don't leave me!". She answers scornfully "I need to go." I beg her "I am so sorry about Lorie, baby! I didn't mean to hurt her. Please don't leave me, or they'll come in and hurt me. They'll kill me!" [Apparently she came in to check on me, but was so horrified by my condition that she quickly left] She slams the door, and with the sound of its shutting, my hope shatters and my fear grows to new, unimagined heights. Suddenly, the glass of the window above the bed shatters, and tens of tiny sharp pieces tear into my eyes. I scream, trying to brush them out, and hear gun fire. I jump down and *feel* a bullet tear into my leg. I grab my leg and notice my bloodied hands are soaked in my blood. The blood in my eyes is making it very hard to see. I scream in pain, fear and confusion. A SWAT member rolls through the broken glass and lands next to me. I scream "Nooooo!" as he approaches and I back against the wall. He lifts his gun, turns it, and slams the butt of his rifle against the side of my head... [Did I succeed for a moment in knocking myself out by slamming my head into the wall?]


I wake up, confused, scared but somewhat relieved. I am in Angels room, the glass is intact, there's no blood on the floor and I feel mostly dry. Something seems off, but I can't place it. I look around, taking in my surroundings. I am not seeing any obvious visuals at this point -- no trails, no breathing walls. But something is... different. Soon the door opens [Apparently my friends heard my screaming and "tongues" cease and came in excited hoping I had fallen asleep]. "Hey Ivan!" Hmmm, he looks a little different. I look at his bookcase, and in the mirror, I see the other side of his night stand. What the fuck?! It's some type of lab equipment. "What's that Ivan?" I point in the mirror, then at the object itself. "That's my nightstand, you slag"... It's hard to explain just how paranoid I felt right then. My friend had never used the word 'slag' before, and I just caught him trying to tell me a cleverly disguised lab machine was an end table. I realize what must have happened. I accidentally killed Lorie in the midst of a bad trip, and I am in some sort of psych ward where the orderlies are trying to coax me out of my permanent trip. Angel walks in, and they strike up a conversation. I notice a flap of skin on her cheek that is sagging strangely. She's wearing a mask! I look over at Ivan again, scared to death and try to back up against the wall. "I know what you are! Stay away!" Angel lurches forward to hug me, and I move away from her. I turn just in time to see Ivan pulling a long tube from the "night stand". At the end is a gigantic needle. There are four people in the room suddenly, and they hold me down as Ivan pushes the needle down slowly, into my eye. I scream and thrash, feeling it puncture the outer membrane *flash*

My girlfriend is on the bed with an undamaged Lorie. But I know better. They are talking about buying some drugs, and their lingo seems slightly off. They are using phrases that remind me of old after school specials. I immediately recognize that these are well-disguised but poorly-informed orderlies. I don't know whether I should tell them I know they are fake. If I do, will that demonstrate presence of mind enough that they will try me for murdering my friend? If I don't, will they slide a needle into my eye again? I am terrified, and decide not to answer any of their questions. *flash*


(This sort of generic "orderlies pretending to be my friends" scenes repeat many times, interspersed with scenes where my friends seem normal. I am repeatedly convinced that I am ok again, only to find moments later that my friends are not really my friends)

Many months, maybe several years have passed. I am still in the bedroom and my friends appear in the doorway. There are different orderlies beneath the costumes this time, as is obvious from there slightly different body types. In the blink of an eye, they are at my side, holding me down. The night stand suddenly looks far more ominous than ever: a machine right out of a horror film. A multitude of smalls tubes are connected to my body, and a single large, reticulated metal tube moves snakelike towards my head. I struggle, screaming, twisting trying to loosen the grip of the orderlies. It gets closer and closer, slowly, taunting me, mocking my weakness. In a flash, it's struck at my mouth, forcing its way in, holding my mouth open. I hear a sound, an incessant buzz, like a saw coming out of the metal tube. I scream in horror, unable to close my mouth or move my head as I feel the metallic snake _digging and cutting_ a pathway to my brain. I wait, trying to scream, trying to bite down on the snake. It's solid metal; I can't move my jaw at all. It's getting closer to my brain... *flash*

[At one point, my friends held me down and forced a few Valium down my throat. Could this be when this hallucination happened? I thank god to this day that my friends didn't call an ambulance, or drop me off at a hospital. Had they, my nightmare might have come true, and I might have stayed forever in this state.]

I am in a new place. It's mostly dark, lit by a diffused, eerie orange glow. I can't see far around me. But I hear a rustling, a clattering. Something -- many somethings! -- are coming towards me. Emerging from the darkness, all around me, are [I]creatures. They are walking on eight tiny legs, like spiders, but their upper bodies are more akin to wingless bats [Note: I have borderline arachnaphobia]. Each little beast is the size of a pet tarantula. I try to scream, but can't hear my voice. I thrash, but I am held in place by something. They surge over my body, leaning down to tear into my flesh. Each squealing with delight at the taste of my blood... Their mouths are tiny. They dine for a long while. *flash*

(continued below)

[hajimumtaz]

I am still in the orange place. The Sorrow Place. The beastlings are gone, and I am all alone. I wait, scared and staring into the darkness around me, not knowing what might emerge. I am silent, hopeful that the denizens beyond the dark might not notice me. An _eternity_ passes. Then I sense a presence, behind me. I cannot turn to see It, but I roll my eyes around to try. I feel a cold, evil, chill... breath? I can see a dark form out of the corner of my eye, close to me, just over my shoulder. A whisper "Justicccccccccccccccce". The "ssss" sound continues interminably. I shudder and can feel it the words working there was through my crushed body and soul. I reply "No, no, I wasn't awake, I didn't mean to". I hear a snicker, a surprisingly human snicker. *wham* A powerful force (It's hand?) slams across my face, I hear a cracking, crunching sound. I scream in pain. This time I can hear my scream, and it fills my world, echoing and echoing with the waves of pain. [At this point the "flashes" stop, and everything is a long, terrible, contiguous nightmare. I have never tried to write down any of this before, but I realize at this point I cannot possibly write everything that happened. It would take far too long, as subjectively many, many years passed and I remember almost innumerable terrible scenes. Instead, I will highlight just one or two more, and than the conclusion]. It moves in front of me but It's form is hazy, a silhouette, horned, bald, perhaps 8 feet tall. It begins to chant in an inhuman tongue tongue. It's words somehow communicate to me vividly, and bring back the memory of stabbing my friend in stark detail. I weep and scream and
beg but he continues and continues and continues. I am confronted by a stream of all of my guilt, every evil or dark thought replayed before my soul. But in each vision, I am acting out my dark thoughts. "Shaaaaame". He continues, for what seems a true eternity. I try to dull my senses, to fall asleep, but I cannot stop pseudo-experiencing myself acting out ever dark thought or fantasy I ever had. "There is no rest, no respite, for sinners" I think. Eventually, I am lifted from my prone position by a force, and thrust up against something behind me. Something metallic and sharp, it bites into my flesh. I am trying to fight it, yelling, screaming, thrashing, but it cuts deeper. I look down in horror to see a metallic claw emerging from my chest. It has impaled me. Suddenly paralyzed, I try in desperation to beg, cry, scream. But I cannot move. I hang there, forever... It taunts me sometimes, summons my darkest sins and unspeakable torments. Finally, I look down at my body. It is grey, wasted, wrinkled and torn, a shell hanging from a metallic claw. Maggots are feasting on my rotten wound...

Then, I give up. I accept my fate, acknowledging that I deserve it, every moment of pain for all of the evil I had done [which, for the record, isn't more than the average person I suspect]. I cry out to God [though until that point I didn't believe in God], begging for forgiveness, a pile of torn, rotting shame. It appears again, and finally offers me a choice. I don't trust It, as it has taunted me this way before. But I feel a ray of hope, a warmth in my soul grown cold. "Justicce has been bought with wrath and pain. You may leave, or you may stay. But for every moment you remain, you keep another from this torment" My mind races, and I think back a thousand, thousand years to my friends and family and loved ones. I shudder, stare down at the claw, and choose to stay...

But not for long. Suspended by the claw, every moment a nightmarish hell, I last what seems like months instead of years. I finally scream "Enough! Please, please no more" and It materializes before me, laughing, mocking. "Go then." For a moment, I fear that it is another trick, I close my eyes and pray again.

When I open them, I see Angel sitting on the bed, crying. Her eyes widen and she says "Oh my god! Are you awake? Are you ok?" I try to form a smile, but the weight of the world and my torment is on my shoulders. I manage a weak nod. She cries tears of joy, apparently having sat with me for five hours straight singing to me, talking to me, trying to bring me back.

Now bear in mind, I don't know if I am really back at this point, or if It is tormenting me with false hope. I remain positively dazed for several days, tripping, not knowing what is real and what's not. Most of my friends breathed a sigh of relief, and decided to get really fucked up. I sat alone, scared and shaking, praying that I was really back. Sadly, that night, Angel overdosed. Confused and battered, I assumed it wasn't really happening, and my girlfriend led me out of the house (I think she understood what was happening, and was trying to avoid getting in trouble). Two days later I had mostly come down (what a relief, but I kept questioning whether I was really back). THe relief didn't last, as I learned that, if this was the real world, Angela had indeed died that night, and I had likely left while she was dying. :-/

Fast forward a month, and I haven't touched any drugs. It has visited me a few times. Once while I was in the shower and another time in the pool, the latter of which sent me running as fast as I could into my house, scared and praying. Six few months pass, and I have managed to steer clear of drugs. I was sitting in a car and had long since buried It and my torments in a heavy layer of Reason, Logic, Denial and Faith. It had rained and the leafs above the car were heavy with water. I heard a drop of water splat on the roof of the car next to me. My body shuddered hard and I felt a very eerie sensation in my spine. I looked over at the car, and saw a shadow, It, *tearing* a woman apart. Her blood was spattered across the windows, and she screamed and fought. I was paralyzed in fear, wondering if I was going to awake in the Sorrow Place. I watched and watched and shamefully watched, unable to bring myself to confront what was before me. Then it stopped. I looked into the car next to me and it was empty -- there was no woman, no blood, she had not kicked out one of the windows. I heard the rustling of the leaves above me, and thought I heard a single word in that sounds "Justiccccccce".

Fast forward several years, and I had smoked pot on and off, but had taken no other illegal drugs (occasionally pharmaceuticals). I had vigorously avoided other psychedelics. Life was good, and I was on track. I still had occasional nightmares where I was in the Sorrow Place, but they were becoming more and more infrequent. Perhaps a few times per year over the following five years I would find myself questioning if I was in True Reality, or if this was one of those subjectively long, false hope-inducing scenarios constructed by It. Again, logic, faith and reason protected me, and I managed to live a mostly happy life.

(continued below... heh, sorry, the next one is the last one)

[hajimumtaz]

About a two years ago (six years after the bad trip), I started really missing psychedelics. I hadn't really enjoyed cannabis for a few years, so I had stopped and I hadn't had any drugs other than caffeine, tobacco and my prescription pain medication. So I had a small amount of powerful magic mushrooms, and really enjoyed myself during the experience. Sadly, afterwards, it made me think about It a little bit more, but my nightmare had slowly evolved. Instead of assuming that I was in the Sorrow Place, being tormented and tricked, I wondered whether I was still tripping, those "many years" ago, or whether time had passed but I was tripping in an insane asylum. Again, I buried the feelings and moved on.

Just about a month ago, my friend introduced me to salvia. He knew that I was generally unwilling to take illegal drugs (with few exceptions; after all, I am married, and wouldn't want to have to call the wife from jail because I decided to enjoy some mushrooms), but that I was still cravings psychedelics. salvia was incredible. I could experience extremely potent psychedelic effects, for a short period of time, and without worrying about pesky jail sentences and late-night collect calls to my wife. I ended up buying my own, and experimenting with different types, sets and settings. These experiences have been almost entirely positive.

But one night I decided to take more. To really brake through. I first sat with my tobacco pipe and took a few hits of dried salvia leaf. About ten minutes later, I loaded the bowl of a little glass pipe up with Salvia Zone Purple and took two deeep hits, holding them in for a long time. I felt a peeling back of reality, and I suddenly experienced something akin to sheer, spine curling terror "Oh no, I said aloud" I don't feel right, something is very wrong. I hear someone talking "Wow, he's wiggling a lot. Did he just speak?" I feel like I am in a large, cold room. There is an echo, and a strange, clinical smell. I am laying on my back and I notice a bright light above my closed eyes [Later, I realize this might be my laptop's screen, very bright because I had the lights off]. I fear that I am in a hospital, an insane asylum? Did the salvia drive me permanently mad? No, no, no. "Oh no." I realize that I am likely still tripping from eight long years ago. My mostly amazingly happy life, my wife, the amazing progress I have made -- it is all fake. I sense that back in the recesses of my mind is a thin thread still connecting me to "normal existence", and I realize it's a vivid memory of my cat, Whiskers. I hold on to that, and open my eyes a little. More terror. I see five orderlies surrounding me in a padded room. A large, menacing and muscular orderly has a bandoleer of needles strapped to his chest. I hear them say "He shouldn't be awake. What should we give him?

Did he just open his eyes? Maybe we shouldn't send him back to dreamtown". At this moment, I realize that one of several possibilities are likely: 1) I am about to wake up in a mental hospital, finding that all of my life since that trip 8 years ago has been imagined, and that the institution is keeping me asleep so I will pleasantly dream, because when I wake I am convulsive and terrifically insane 2) that I am only imagining that I am still tripping from eight years ago, and that if I awake in that world, seeking the "real world", I will become permanently insane, having convinced myself completely that I am in an insane asylum 3) that I can grab hold of that thread of connection to my kitty, and return to my "dream state", which may or may not be the real state. I hear them ask "Are you there? Wake up, you can finally come home!" Now, I am a very analytical person, and I pride myself on my relentless search for what is objectively true. So I have a very spiritual decision to make. Since I am almost 100% convinced that I have been dreaming, do I wake up in the "real" mental institution world, or do I love my life so much that I am willing to live within a false reality? I chose the latter choice (also mindful that if I "wake in the Institution", I could end up insane. I begin repeating over and over aloud "Whiskers is my kitten, Whiskers is my kitten, Whiskers is my kitten" so fast and so ferociously that I end up mumbling and speaking a pseudo-language. Suddenly I wake up, still chanting Whisker's name, and he is sitting in my lap, staring into my eyes. I hug him, sigh, and collapase.

Over the next couple of days, I wonder if my life is real, if I am a guilty murderer, if I am in an insane asylum, in the Sorrow Place but on a whimsical diversion to break my spirit or if I really have become a better person, and filled my life with love and happiness over the last eight years...

It's difficult not knowing, but I learned that I appreciate the people in my life so much, and the changes I've made so utterly, that I am willing -- at least for now -- to live a lie if I get to continue experiencing it. This is emotionally shocking and intellectually shameful to me, but I thank God for giving me a world for which I can be so thankful.

I committed to never doing salvia again, afraid that it might lead me back to that awful place, and that terrible decision. But, of course, my intellectual curiosity won that battle, and I tried some two days later. This time, I kept all of the lights on, and smoked a bit less. I said a prayer, and as I exhaled, I watched as my perspective zoomed slowly out. I was looking at myself from right above my head, then the corner of the room, then from a thousand feet up. All of the bright colors that formed that reality twisted and turned and I zoomed even further away. The further I got, the smaller the little strand of reality looked, until I noticed that it was a single hair on the back of a gigantic, smiling feline entity. I laughed with wonder and awe, and thanked my God (and my cat) for keeping me safe and sound throughout my long, crazy, happy life.

----

I know most of the readers likely didn't read this far, so I thank you for letting me share this bizarre and lasting experience. Writing it down for the first time has been helpful, as was the salvia experience and especially conquering my fears (temporarily at least!) by trying salvia again.

Since you're still here, I was wondering if you have ever heard of a situation where the tabs on a single sheet of gel tabs have vastly different amounts of LSD. If not, is there any reasonable explanation for why I could take 25 hits and "be fine", but take 2 and fly off the handle?

Are you aware of any anecdotes where salvia divinorum use results in permanent psychosis?

Best wishes! haji

ps Thanks to Max Freakout for the term the "Sorrow Place". I have been struggling for a long time to find a term that accurately describes that hell. Thanks also to Max Freakout and Psychonautica for encouraging me to continue on my journeys; I feel that I am on the path to healing and truth.

----
[I]To protect the possibly innocent, I have changed every name above and will add "This is a fictional story." since -- arguably -- significant criminal acts occurred.

[London Eye]

Hi Haj,

Haven't read all of your report yet, apologies, but looks like it could form the basis of a published short story, very well articulated. Read the first and second posts but then jumped to the end. Haven't consumed the quantities or varieties of substances that you have, but something you mentioned about the salvia experience really struck a chord with me.

The second heavy salvia smoke I had with Max as sitter was at a festival in 2006. Sat on a sunny day in open countryside I took several hits of salvia 20x smoke. Won't go into details of the trip which was mind blowing in itself but apparently sat on the grass with friends and, in the midst of the trip, I fell back onto the grass with several disturbing shrieks, according to those present.

As I was returning to reality I recall seeing faces looking at me,which after the trip I could rationalise as the other people at this spot looking over at me and me seeing them upside down.

But in the moments while it was happening I distinctly recall the sense of me being carried and others viewing me as if I was in a coma of some kind and they were concerned for my welfare. I remember forcing out a smile to let them know I was ok. But the sense was of momentarily awaking from a comatose state into a reality that was the salvia reality. And there was that impression that occurred to me that in some way in the salvia trip I was awaking momentarily from a coma and that those there were hopeful that I would awake entirely, but that I had to return back to my earthly existence and somehow they were losing me to that and there was some sadness or grief attached to that.

I probably haven't explained it that well (late at night and a bit tired) but this sense that one of the worlds seems more real and its the terrifying one could be very unsettling for the individual trying to work it out.

My take is that there is no one reality that is more authentic than others, but that this corporeal existence is the one we must get the full measure of since this is the origin point for our explorations here on earth. That feeling of gratitude for the life you have here, upon returning, no matter how unreal it supposedly is, is similar to the feeling I had. I'd say your choice was the one you inevitably had to make, in some way that that fear of all you had built up that was precious to you almost being taken away made you appreciate its value.

It gives me more the sense of salvia as being some kind of alien intervention, but the beauty in this is that this emotional feeling of gratitude, also relief I suppose, that we both seemed to experience (and many other salvia trip reports testify to) together with a very real sense of the preciousness of what is here now, however transitory and illusory spiritual traditions may say it is is in itself an extremely positive, kind of tough love phenomenon of the salvia trip and maybe there lies some therapeutic benefit that can be explored by science, albeit a more open minded type of science.

To take it into the twilight zone for a few sentences, whatever that emotional experience of this life is, according to many chroniclers of channeled alien contact, is that which seems to fascinate all non-humanoids witnessing this human, physical evolution.

Now of course this is all highly hypothetical, but it seems to me that the great thing, for us as humans, is that as curious as we are of these altered states, it seems these entities are as curious of our human experience - and most important they haven't worked it out yet, there's a part of our existence that is totally alien to them.

So neither of us is "superior" to the other, we are trying to understand each other, but possibly haven't found the perfect medium of communication yet. Maybe also some ethical boundaries have been crossed by so-called alien abduction experiences, which does suggest a technological or intellectual superiority, but it is our emotional, spiritual abilities that most intrigue "them" and it seems that is where our power lies, but most of humanity is unaware of its own spiritual emotional potential so how can "they" find out when most of us don't know. I should stop there, as its getting complicated and too hypothetical and could take many more pages to explore. Just thought I'd mention it.

Anyway, just wanted to say that I don't believe there is anything inauthentic in your choice. You chose the life path that is filled with warmth and love and I'd say that trumps any other experience, is the root of all existence. How do I know? Well there's no proof, but to me the evidence is in the teachings and the writings of the many spiritual traditions as well as human experience.

One day we may find all of this is only applicable in this world and this mortal existence...but until then it is the path and the experience that makes most sense.

That's what I feel tonight anyway. Much respect and gratitude for sharing this and I hope to read the full report at some point soon :)

[hajimumtaz]

Thanks so much for your response London Eye. I haven't considered some of the more spiritual interventionist type theories you seem to suggest, though not for dogmatic reasons -- they just hadn't really occurred to me yet.

I really do truly appreciate the support and the security gained by knowing others have experienced similar phenomena while in the grips of salvia divinorum. After reading your response, I started reading some of the (many!) available trip reports at erowid and found that not a few of writers have experienced similar decisions and entities.

Best always, haji.

[Xochipilli2012]

hey Haji!

Max owes you about 250 spore prints for that one! I found it so gripping that it kept me from heading to bed when I desperately needed to sleep, and I made it all the way to the end of your penultimate post. I just read the last one. I thought I was a pretty experienced tripster, and have had quite a number of "challenging" adventures...but nothing and I mean NO THING anywhere near as "out there" as yours.

So...did Angel really die? And did you attend the funeral/memorial? If so...were you still tripping? What was that like?

Seems like you could spend the rest of your life processing what you described here, without taking another psychedelic for years and years.

Thanks for sharing your gripping tale!

Blessings...

[hajimumtaz]

Xochipilli2012

Thank you for letting me tell you my tale. :-) For some reason, it has really helped me to share it, although it writing it down has perhaps more firmly planted it in my mind. That could be good though, as I probably need to process it to heal completely. It is so bizarre to feel guilty for something you might not have done; on the other hand, wrapped up in that guilt was the very real death of Angel (and perhaps some guilt for that as well :-/ )...

"So...did Angel really die? And did you attend the funeral/memorial? If so...were you still tripping? What was that like?"

She left this world that same evening that my trip "ended" :-(

Angel's family had her transported out of state where they lived. I was unable to attend the funeral, because the police had asked me not to leave the state while they investigated the "crime". I don't know if I could have explained to them what happened, so I am ever thankful to my family for supplying me with an attorney. While I was harassed by the police (and perhaps I can see it things from their point of view), the shield of my attorney kept them mostly at bay.

Best, always. haji