Snook - The Disturbing World of Hallucinogens

Episode Date: November 12, 2025

Most substances alter your mind, but hallucinogens can tear it apart. In today’s video, we explore a class of substances that twist reality into something unrecognizable. Sometimes you won’t just see colors or patterns… you’ll see walls breathe, shadows that move on their own, and faces appear where they shouldn’t, and maybe, you'll never feel the same again. You might hear whispers from empty rooms, feel like something is following you, or question whether your memories even belong to you.From common hallucinogens to ancient, mysterious plants, hallucinogens don’t just open your mind, they can trap you in a world that feels real… but is horrifyingly wrong.This video was made for educational purposes only, I do not condone the usage of any substances mentioned.Join the Patreon for early access to every video, and many more perks! https://www.patreon.com/SnookYTIf your story or post was included in today's video and you wish for it to be taken down, please reach out to this email. [e-mail] Like, subscribe, and stay safe… Learn more about your ad choices. Visit podcastchoices.com/adchoices

When most people think of hallucinogens, they think of a substance you take, and you see bright colors. You laugh a little, and it's just a harmless escape from reality. But what if I told you there are hallucinogens out there that don't just destroy reality? They tear you straight out of it. From toxic honey to ancient ritual substances, these aren't your typical mushrooms. They're dangerous reminders of just how fragile our perception of reality really is. Some can drag you into the darkest, most heroin experience is imaginable, and you might never come back quite the same. Today, we're diving into the disturbing world of hallucinogens.

Make sure to like the video and subscribe to the channel. Let's get into it. And now, actually, before we get into the video, I have to preface this by saying that this video is for educational purposes only. I do not in any way condone the usage of any substances, mentioned in the video. Also, before we get started, let me explain what a hallucigen really is. In technical terms, hallucinogens, also known as psychedelics, are psychoactive drugs that profoundly alter a person's perception of reality, thoughts, and feelings. They interfere with your neurotransmitters, such as serotonin, to create a range of sensory effects ranging from

pleasant trips to full-on nightmares. And now that you're in next, expert, let's get started and dive into the latter group, The Nightmares. And starting off with something you probably already know about, we have ayahuasca, one of nature's most sophisticated chemical coincidences. Ayahuasca is not a singular compound. In fact, it is actually a combination of two plants hailing from the Amazon rainforest, one that contains DMT and another that contains inhibitors that make DMT orally active. Usually people smoke DMT, but this combination lets you swallow it directly. The brew creates a several hours long trip, often followed by intense vomiting.

People say that it feels external to their consciousness, as in it does not feel like something that their mind made up, but instead like some sort of vision. This could explain the fervent community behind this drug who insist that it is a gateway to spirituality. However, the true danger is the unpredictability of the drug. For some, it's euphoric and enlightening, and for others, it is a downright nightmare. And the following story is the experience of a user who took an ayahuasca brew. The title reads as follows. Jungle Moment. Darkness, Eternity.

Written by Psychedelic Fan. So, I wanted a trip. Voyage. Flight. Whatever you want to call it. I am a 21-year-old college student. Acid and shrooms were things of the past when I heard about DMT brew. I researched and read, then researched some more, as I always do just to make sure. I found a site that sold the ingredients I needed. The first two times I tried this, I couldn't hold it down, and upchucked all of it before it could settle in. This sucked me with a sick feeling for the rest of the night. Third time was a charm since I added some jello, which take out the fats to upset my stomach. I boiled it for about an hour in some water with some vinegar. I ended up with a piss yellow brew that was easy to get down. I waited about 20 minutes until I felt to kick in.

Light was sensitive to the eyes in very slight movement when concentrating on a certain object. Then I began gulping the tea and chasing with some peach juice. This was the hardest thing for me to ever get down. It tastes so bad to me. After getting all of it down, over about 15 minutes the nausea began to kick in again. I ran to the bathroom a few times, but held it down. I loaded a bowl and smoked some drow to help with this. Then put it in a movie and waited about an hour and a half.

9.07 p.m. It hit me like a flip of a switch. The floor began moving underneath my coffee table. I looked over at my girlfriend as her face had translucent patterns, and tribal marks spinning and rotating on her face. Her iris were changing colors and spinning in the opposite direction of the patterns on her face. Her hair spiked up into the air

and grew tall right before my eyes. She no longer was my girlfriend, but the spiritual shaman that was introducing me into this world. The walls were breathing all around me, and it was hard to focus on anything. I got up and went across the room to my computer. I attempted to look for a song on my mind, but the titles and artist were changing sizes and coming in and out of the screen. It was impossible to focus and remember what I was doing.

I went back to bed and tried to converse with my lover. About 10.15 p.m. My girlfriend, who was sober, gave up Omni by this time. I guess I did not make any sense, and I told her that I could no longer look at her because the shaman kept coming back and showing himself to me. I began getting very, very cold, shaking like I was outside in the snow for hours. About 10.30 p.m. My lover was no longer stoned and falling asleep very fast. Like when I started to trip at a flip of the switch.

I did not feel good at all. I simply felt horrible. Not seeing anything, only the horrible cold feeling coming from within my soul. I made a trip to the bathroom and pukes some bile and dry heaved the rest of the time for a few minutes. One of the saliva clumps formed into a lizard and swam across the toilet water, then disappeared into a thousand particles. I remember having to really make my body get up and move into the other room or I would have been stuck there forever. I laid down and started to calm down, closing my eyes.

The next thing I remember is that I cannot fall asleep because if I did, I would never be able to wake up. A Tim Burton Clay creature with ten long hind legs, stripped with black and white, crawled into my mind and laughed at me. He was a disgusting evil creature with green light shining out of every orifice on his head. He was bruised and had sores throughout his entire body. He crawled like the exorcist girl crawled down the staircase, unnatural and disjointed. I knew at this point that I wanted to be normal. Would I ever be normal?

again? He crawled around me showing my family and how I was to be, a schizophrenic zombie, a waste to society, a waste to the meaning and value of life. I looked at the clock and it read 1047. Only a few minutes have passed and I knew I had many hours to go. I began trying to change my pathway of thinking, staring straight at the wall ahead of me, letting go and taking the voyage I'd been desiring. After dry heaving and returning to my bed once again, I felt normal. I thought to myself that I most likely just came through the second wave of my trip. I decided to not stare at the wall, afraid of what was to come next.

I put it on the movie obsessed. It was about 10-15 by now. A few minutes into the movie, I felt it coming back. At this point, I was telling myself over and over just to write it out and that time is on your side. I was back in complete darkness feeling absolutely crazy. I don't know how to explain it. I didn't see or envision anything, but dark and loneliness. I felt the creature that kept haunting me close by.

So I stared at the movie and wondered if I would ever feel the same again. And just a quick, you know, I'm just budding in real quick. That is so terrifying to me. I mean, imagine being in the scenario where you're questioning if you'll ever feel like yourself again. To me, that is beyond scary, but anyways, let's continue with the story. 12.26 a.m. I felt paralyzed. I did not want to move, nor did it seem like I could. My eyes no longer could make anything out. Everything around me was blurry, and when I closed them, the darkness slowly approached me again. My girlfriend stretched out her leg and met with the side of my body.

I was in a jungle with her now. We were trained. traveling through the lands, searching for something. This was like watching a movie in my head. As we continued through the vast scenery, I followed my lover into a clearing with a very soft fire, no flame, just smoke, but still going, if that makes any sense. There were some eyes and the trees looking over us.

Out of nowhere, a baby is lifted up over the gentle smoking fire, and there's a celebration within my body, within the clearing. I no longer feel the darkness I mentioned before. Just as the darkness feeling leaves, the Tim Burton creature again crawled out in view. The jungle disappeared and blackness came around me, almost as if he reminded me,

who was in charge, and how I should feel. The horrible dark feeling came over me again, feeling sick and heading to the toilet. I must have been in the bathroom for some time or must have blacked out because the next thing I remember, I was on the bed, paralyzed again, feeling very lonely and very uncomfortable. I turned and looked at the clock and it read, to question mark a.m. I felt to come back. At this point, I was getting used to

the shuffled mindset, feeling absolutely crazy. My movements were uncontrolled, jerking my head all around every direction I wanted to look. I am surprised I didn't give myself whiplash. My eyes then focused on my cat, Luna. She is a long-haired black cat with some white. I reached out to pet her as she laid on the foot of my bed. Her coat was ashy and gray. Ashes floating off into the air as I pet her. She looked so old that freaked me out a bit. Then the sickness hitting me again. I was so tired of throwing up and just wanted this voyage to be over. About 3.30 a.m. After throwing up for the last time, I returned to my bed and noticed some color changes in the movie

that it started over by this time. I looked the clock and it read 317. I knew that I was finally starting to come down. Although the dark, lonely feeling continued, it was not as intense. I turned off the television and rolled on my back looking at the ceiling for some time. It was almost 5 a.m. now.

I was sane enough to go to sleep. I closed my eyes and tried to put all the things I experienced in my memory to share with it in the morning. I woke up about 7.15 a.m. and was still high, but not tripping at all. I was so glad I was back to the world I am used to. Conclusion. This was by far the most intense trip I ever had. I did not feel in control at times and frankly fucking crazy. I believe that Mimosa Hostels is not a good vine and will never journey with it again. I have heard that copy and for real this, Vine is generally a much more pleasant trip.

In this case shows the near-complete breakdown of their consciousness under the influence of a high dose of ayahuasca brew. Their perception of time, self, and their surroundings fell apart in mere minutes and broke down into severe mental hallucinations. The added mix of ayahuasca vine and brew did not help here. Alone, ayahuasca lets you remain somewhat in control during your trip, but the combination sends them straight into a brutal flood of their mind's visualization of their deepest fears, while still being lucid and aware that they might be trapped there forever. Our next drug is found in plants known for their role in ancient witchcraft, which should tell you what we're dealing with here.

Scopolamine is an antichlorogenic hallucinogen, which means that it blocks these signals that maintain conscious awareness. Users cannot distinguish between dream and reality. It induces intergrade amnesia, which means the trip is never stored in memory and you don't remember anything that happens under it, which is obviously very, very risky and very dangerous because you can do things that you don't mean to do and could hurt yourself or others. You take it knowingly or unknowingly, it hits you, and then you wake up hours later.

Scariest of all is that you remain fully mobile and conversational, but with no capacity for judgment at all. You are temporarily not a person, just a meat robot until you wake up. Obviously, one of the most common uses of scopolamine is for robbery and assault. It's easy to slip in, and you don't need much to knock someone out. They don't remember anything, and you're completely safe, so that's why people use it to kind of roofy people or rob you. And now we have Colin, an expat who lived in Latin America, and creator of the site Expat Chronicles, was curious about the effects of the Colombian devil's breath, just kind of

a nickname for scopolamine. So he asked some Colombians he knew and posted some stories he said. heard to his blog. The following stories are excerpts from that blog, and there's a lot of them, so I'll let you know when each one stops and starts, and they're pretty crazy. Let's get into it. An Irish guy met a girl, and they made plans to hang out. He met her and her friends at a bar. He was drinking with them, and that's all he remembered. He woke up in his hotel room with nothing in his pockets. He called to bitch her out, and she hung up on him. She called back a few days later, saying how insulted she was and that she would never do that.

She said he left her and her friends at the bar, and she didn't know where he went. He seemed to believe her story. I never saw him again, but I hope he didn't hang out with her again. And then another story reads, I met an AA guy, whose tipping point came in Medellin, after partying in a brothel

and waking up the next day in a rundown hotel with no money and no clothes. He tried to leave, but the motel staff told him he had to pay for the room. They didn't care about his story. He had no recollection of what happened. I found a Router's story about a Colombian woman who's found wandering topless in Bogota, asking about her baby. Police believe an infant trafficking gang was responsible.

These stories no longer on the Router's site. I emailed Philip Stewart on Routers, the name on the byline, to ask if you wrote the story. His reply. I met that poor woman years ago and never forgot it. Yes, I wrote that. A Canadian traveler told me a story

from Medellín's Parque La Ross. He and a friend were drinking beer with a couple of Colombians they met. Once drunk, his friend was put in the back of a cop car while breaking up a fight. The friend confirmed to our Canadian traveler that he saw him get into a Mercedes with the two Colombians they were drinking with.

He woke up. the next day in a vagado broke. A Colombian doctor confirmed the symptoms of having taken scopolamine. Of course, there's feedback from the Mick who spent 20 plus alcoholic years in Bogota. There's a horrible prostitution and drug zone near 7-day-Gosto. He says that he hates those people because they always gave him scopolamine. He says he's been drugged at least 30 times. He took some heavy losses but believes scopolamine didn't affect him as much because he was such an extreme alcoholic and drug user. The first time the Mick was scoped came soon after having a baby with his first ex. He was on a road trip with a friend when they stopped for lunch and a drink. They

dropped the baby off at a daycare and started pounding beer. They hopped into a taxi and the Mick clearly remembers his friend saying, everything's gone white. It's like we're in heaven. Then the Mick fell under the spell. Then they think they drugged him. The taxi driver kicked him out of the cab. The Mick was crawling in the street, at one point crawling under a bus. They remembered the baby and made it back to the daycare. They were stumbling while carrying the baby and eventually made a scene in front of the police.

The Mick woke up in the British Embassy. Another time he was drinking heavy and hard in the Bogota streets, bouncing around various street crowds. Then he was kissing some guys. girl. Then he woke up in his apartment wrapped in a blanket. The apartment was cleared out. He went to the police station naked. He learned the next day they rented a van to clear him out. Taken together, all of these stories paint a very, very grim picture of the misuse of scopolamine. There's no pleasure. There's no trip, but it's still technically a hallucinogen, but you wake up in horror.

in a desperate situation with no recollection of the past. And now, before we move on to the next substance, I will read another story of scopolamine. And this one is more like the first story where, you know, they have more of a timeline of what happens. And, you know, this is terrifying. And the post reads, The Zombie Drug by K. 30 minutes after taking.

Onsets of peripheral antichlorogenic symptoms. For example, dry mouth. Blurred vision, dilated pupils, hyperpexia, red hands, and eat in flush face. Some noticeable ataxia and poor sentence construction. An hour after taking. Definite delirium setting in. Substantial decrease of muscle tone resulting in clumsy walking. Much banging into walls and stumbling over nothing whatsoever.

Heart rate is very fast. Two hours after taking. muscles almost completely relaxed, so that walking is now impossible. Can barely crawl, however. Forehead feels feverish. Hearing is impaired. Pupils are monstrously dilated. Colors are very rich and bright, as with cannabis intoxication.

Visual perception resolution is poor. Text appears blurry, no matter how hard subject squints or concentrates. Depth perception is severely. impaired, making it impossible to appropriately reach for even nearby objects without over or underreaching. Three hours after taking. The walls are breathing, objects are swirling, about, and taking on living forms, making for a generally nightmarish scenario.

Subject has no insight whatsoever. These are real hallucinations, unlike the fanciful visions and distortions that one obtains on more psychedelic drugs. terrifying. Four hours and onwards. Muscles are so weak that even lifting a finger seems to take superhuman strength. Subject feels an oppressive force pinning him down on the bed, paralyzing him. Visual field is completely obscured by various living forms and blurry splotches. Throat is parched. Tongue feels sandy.

Subject does not know where he is. Does not know whether he is even awake or dreaming. Does not know who he is. Does not know why he feels so shitty, etc. That is so scary to me. Subject pledges his soul to the demon who is sitting on him in exchange for a refreshing drink of water.

The demon takes his soul, doesn't provide the agreed upon water. Subject resigns himself to eternal damnation. 16 hours plus. Subject finds himself at work. Utterly perplexed. He realizes that he is in the middle of a conversation with someone

asked for that person to repeat what was just said. Somehow manages to handle everything at work without stirring too much suspicion. Vaguely recalls waking up in the morning midway down the basement stairs. Luckily, no injuries other than bruises. Concludes that he must have fallen down the stairs while sleepwalking. Later that day, subject is shocked to discover that he has completed a sizable amount of rather demanding paperwork earlier than the work day. With no recollection of even being delegated. this task. Because of blurry vision, reading is somewhat difficult. Plus 20 hours. Subject comes home,

sees a bowl of cooked rice sitting in the refrigerator, does not recall ever-cooking rice, also finds a toothbrush and some floss. Most of it is pulled out and then wrapped around the dispenser, on his nightstand, and even a remote control in the bathroom. Pupils are still fucking hugely dilated. Subject has paranoid ideated. about various entities lurking throughout his house, sees fleeting creatures in his peripheral vision, plus 48 hours. Subject's memory and sanity are more or less back to normal, but he is deeply shaken and full of regret

for ever thinking of experimenting with an anti-chlorinegenetic delirient. Moral of the story, don't do scopolamine. It is not a psychedelic mind-opening drug. instead it will make you a zombie so guys um make sure to always watch your drinks especially in columbia because this uh i mean you can barely even call this a hallucinogen because it really is so terrifying it's just nothing like you know psilocybin mushrooms more like a psychedelic trip this is full-on paralysis where someone can easily take advantage of you and you feel like you're in hell.

There's nothing more scary than that. And anyways, on to our next drug, which is abogine. Extracted from a shrub native to Central Africa. Used by the native tribes for centuries in their rituals. Abogine is special. It acts simultaneously on serotonin, dopamine, NMDA, and the opioid receptors, which is rare. Unlike classic psychedelics, for example, LSD,

where you can kind of tell that you're tripping, Abogane produces a waking dream that feels more like living through a memory rather than your imagination going haywire. Many report entering a neutral observer state where time doesn't seem to pass while their mind replays entire sections of their life. The trip can last over 24 hours

with psychological dissections coming in waves. And interestingly, the brain enters a kind of of rest mode, disrupting your habitual neural pathways, basically as your brain is used to taking. And this explains its use in addiction therapy where there have been proven results of aboging, stopping addiction symptoms. And unfortunately, the drug can severely affect your heart rhythm and control of your body, which makes it extremely dangerous to take outside of expert supervision. And now let's get into a first-hand account of your body.

of a user, Penny Scout. The title of his post is, Not for everyone, a bogain. And the post reads as follows. I am a female, age 29, and sata bogean treatment were in September 2010 in Mexico.

It was a very difficult experience for me, and it has taken me a full year to be able to write about it. For many months afterward, I was still experiencing the effects and unsure of the ultimate outcome. And then I was simply avoiding thinking about it because it was so upsetting. In fact, you'll have to forgive my typos

because reading through this too many times is hard for me. However, there are many more details I've left out. And I'm happy to answer further questions and I especially interested in hearing from other people who had similar negative experiences or side effects, or to not get what they promised or expected from taking abogine. Perhaps together we can help develop a profile for those who should avoid a bogein, to help them avoid unnecessary suffering and cost, or to aid the development of treatment or post-treatment protocols to limit negative side effects. After deciding that I wanted to try it, I was recommended to a center because I was not seeking treatment for drug addiction. Rather, I was seeking psychosperital treatment, namely for

10 years of depression and what I thought of at the time as complex PTSD, not from any one violent trauma, but because my symptoms appeared to set in suddenly while studying environmental science in college, which I found quite distressing. I also grew up with selective mutism, a strange disorder on the social anxiety spectrum involving refusal slash fear slash inability to speak to some people or in some situations. In addition to depression, I suffer from chronic pain and fatigue and generalized anxiety, as well as a mishmash of other physical symptoms. You know the kind that are in those long lists of side effects on candia, overgrowth,

or heavy metal poisoning? I always thought I fit the description for chronic fatigue syndrome. But since it is considered incurable by Western medicine anyway, I did not pursue the diagnosis until recently. I have become more unsure whether the psychological stress of my freshman year of college was responsible for my breakdown, or whether a physical illness, like a virus, leading to exhaustion preceded my mental illness. This may be an arbitrary distinction.

It may be a complex mixture of both, but I must point out that many physical diseases such as arthritis, syphilis, polio, and tuberculosis were at one time thought to be entirely psychological. And there is danger in relying too much on the psychological explanation. Although my inclinations naturally lean towards alternative medicine, such as somonism, and I have a master's degree in counseling psychology, I do believe now after learning more about it that CFS sufferers have a specific pattern of measurable and physical differences from healthy people, including lesions in the brain, and it is distinctly different from depression, PTSD, and other disorders with somatic components.

In addition, studies have found that most people with CFS and fibromaliga developed mood disorders after and were just as psychologically healthy as the average population before their chronic pain and the other symptoms set in. In other words, it is a real disease. I give these factors as background, since not much is currently known about the use of aboging for different diseases besides drug addictions, though it is also considered. helpful for depression, bipolar, and other mental disorders. Perhaps the fact that I did not suffer from classical depression,

but in fact, CFS is instrumental in my story. And also for everyone watching, CFS is chronic fatigue syndrome. She briefly mentioned that, but basically just feel always tired, always fatigued. It really is a horrible condition. And anyways, just wanted to explain that before we get into this lengthy story. And anyways, let's get into it. At the time of this experience, I was living in Portland, Oregon. I planned a six-night trip to Mexico.

Between five and seven days were recommended, as anyone with CFS will understand travel, especially air travel is very hard on the body. This was certainly no exception. I left the house at perhaps eight in the evening. Took a bus and a train ride to the airport for my midnight flight from Portland to Houston, slept briefly on the floor of the airport for a 5 a.m. flight to Mexico City. then took a bus. Did I mention I don't speak any Spanish? And cabed to where I finally rise at the treatment house sometime in the late afternoon. I had also been fasting this whole time

in preparation. This is from someone who gets fairly imbalanced after a two-hour domestic flight in the middle of the afternoon, so it may not have been the best idea, but I had also been very anxious for about two weeks prior to the trip and couldn't wait to get there already. I was also probably adrenaline. There is also a certain romance and flying to a four- country on a secret trip to do something totally crazy. At the treatment house, everyone was very friendly and welcoming. I met my provider's cousin, who was lounging on the couch and bliss, having just received a session a few days prior for depression and nicotine addiction.

This made me very hopeful. Then I retired to my room, the tower room, a round turret to lay down and wait for my flood, which is the name for a large dose of a bogein. that causes hallucinations. The flood is generally started after dusk. I suppose the reason for doing the treatment on the day of arrival is because many addicts are about to go into the throes of withdrawal. Of course, this was not an issue for me. But even though I was fucked up for my travels and had a dehydration headache, I probably wouldn't have chosen to wait another whole day because of the strong sense of anticipation. Cost and length of stay is also a practical issue for

most people driving their treatment timing. I'm doubtful that taking the time for recovery would have significantly influenced my experience anyhow. 6 p.m. Wednesday night. I was pleased to have the tower room. It had metaphorical appeal. Since the tower card in the tarot deck is one of the sudden and dramatic upheaval, difficult yes, but no one ever said the abogian experience was going to be a K-walk. As soon as began preparing for my flood, a thunderstorm hit. And just as we are smudging ourselves in the room with Coppaw, a bolt of lightning hit the pool directly outside. This seemed to me a good omen. Although there were spiritual elements such as the smudging, this was not a traditional shamanistic procedure. I was given a dose based on my

weight and my desire to experience the psychospiritual visions. There was some ambivalence over whether I should receive pure bogeying or total acaloid, which is basically a boga root minus the cellulose. This is more likely to cause vomiting. I believe I ended up being given all aboging. My provider had used both and mixtures of the two on others and himself with similar results and generally relied on intuition as far as what to give people. Certainly, many of a naturalistic ideal would lean using TA. And I am curious what would have happened if I had taken that, but I've had bad trips with all natural substances, so I'm not convinced things would have been different.

I was given an initial small dose, I believed to screen for immediate allergic reactions. It apparently took a longer time than most for the effects to hit me, perhaps an hour. They were dizziness, muscle, discoordination, and I feeling like, oh shit, I'm losing control. I called my provider in to tell them I was ready for the full dose. The standard protocol at the facility is to be available just outside the room but to leave you alone for your journey, checking every hour or so. Other facilities criticize this technique saying that a person needs to be traumonically guided through the journey, and others still only administer the drug in a hospital setting.

I had gotten a EKA done in Portland prior to the trip to check my heart. As I was going under, there was a point at which there was no turning back. In retrospect, this was very much like letting go and submitting to the experience, even though I remained fearful. It was like falling backward with explosions of colors bursting into my brain. Shortly after that, religious imagery floated through my field of vision, things like the Buddha, the Virgin Mary, and faces of cats, lions and tigers have a special meaning to me as a sort of totem animal, and a tiger eye gem was one of the few items I had brought with me, which I had placed on a table near the bed,

along with a note stating my intentions for the journey. I had read and been informed that most people did not feel anxious or scared during the bulk of the experience, but that it was common to have feelings of anxiety and regret, initially as their ego was fighting against losing control, and that those would pass during the main portion of the night. Unfortunately, this was not at all true for, me. The entire night was characterized by a state of terror in the belief that I just needed to let

go and could be causing my own distress made everything that much worse. When the anxiety didn't abate after, I was fully hallucinating. I was highly confused. Should I take more aboging? My provider liked to leave this up to his own intuition and that of the patient, so I ended up taking a little more, but when the hallucinations hit in full force, even with my eyes open, and I could not stand the idea of taking more. I was still concerned. I was not submitting properly to the experience because I still felt scared. Now keep in mind that this inner debate was running while experiencing the effects of the drug, meaning that intuition was not really in play. My mind was racing a mile a minute and I was having the sort of circular reasoning

like that poisoning scene in the princess bride. What if I'm possessed by a demon? And it wants me to take more, so I'll go crazy. What if the demon just wants me to think I shouldn't take more because that will kill it? And I felt as if my mind was split into two or three more. One chipper and hopeful, but at the point of feeling false and chakarine,

full of hippish sayings like, you're just cleansing. It will all be over soon. One negative and frightened thinking. That's just a stupid thing people say. You have no fucking. clue was happening. And another analytic observing these two. Auditly confused, trying to figure out what the hell was going on, wondering what is purpose of these thoughts? Was I being shown something?

About my programming? My personal demons? It really wasn't insightful. It was all muddled, unclear, and overwhelming. But these thoughts racing at a frantic, incomprehensible pace, one hardly finishing before the next started, looping, repeating, interrupting. This was overlaid by intense auditory stimulation, mostly buzzing, like a mosquito in the ear, which is a commonly reported experience, but sometimes drumming and other noises, and what extremely annoying or repetitive sound, sound, sound, out, down thing, like some psychonauts may be familiar with, where the last word you think or say repeats as if it will never stop, and visual stimulation. colors, patterns, creepy cartoons changing so fast as to be a blur, repetition, like the television

within a television phenomenon, or the optical illusion when you face two mirrors at each other, and intense physical stimulation and discomfort, waves of heats and cold that caused me to move the blankets on and off a thousand times. Nausea, dizziness, muscular restlessness and spasms, pain mixed with semi-parallysis, note that I'm in front. pain all the time, so aboging didn't necessarily cause it, so much as being forced to lie down for a long time while tripping balls did. Reaching for a water bottle was a major undertaking. Standing up and going to the bathroom, which thankfully I did not need to, would have been impossible without assistance. I had my notebook by my bed just in case, but writing anything

would have similarly been out of the question. During the night, I will never forget why this was all happening. I never separated from my body or traveled to another place or lost consciousness of myself as an individual in a bed in Mexico, tripping on abogain. Disappointingly, I did not have any questions answered, meet any ancestors, gain any insights, or receive any healings. But there were a few distinct memorable experiences from my flood besides the thought fragmentation and nonsensical visions. Throughout the night, there were many explosions, bursts of color accompanied by hot temperature, and a fearful feeling related to existential anxiety. I suspect many people have had this experience while awake. I'm lying in my bed contemplating death, life,

the universe, or something similarly big and incomprehensible. And suddenly my normal defense mechanisms fail and I flip out at the impossibility of it. Sitting bulls, but I'm not. Sitting bulls, bolt upright and a nauseous panic and sweat, and proceed to stand up, hop around, go make a sandwich, hug my spouse, anything to distract myself from the mind-blowing, microcosmic, and get back into the mundane and limited plane of life. This sensation has happened to me from time to times since childhood, happened over and over again during the aboging experience, just the same but many more times intense, and frequently throughout the weeks and months afterward.

Before aboging, I always had his suspicion. Hey, if I could somehow go through this experience and come out the other side, I think I would be enlightened. After aboging, eventually it faded, and I have not had a spell of it since, and do not believe I can bring one on. As if the fear was drilled out of me through repetition, like some kind of exposure therapy. It's not that I understand anything now or feel comfortable with my existence. It's just, no, whatever, like you've lived in grizzly bear. country long enough, your heart would no longer race when encountering one. Similarly, during the flood, I also experienced something along the lines of eternity. For the last 10 years or so, I have seen a

pulsing violent flame behind my eyes, when relaxed, such as during meditation or receiving massage. I saw that light during parts of the flood accompanied by sort of sensation that it, now, is all there is, and ever will be, in not an enlightened Eckhart Toll kind of way, but a hellish, disturbing, no way out kind of way. If you ever, when you were a kid, thought heaven sounded kind of boring, you know sort of what I mean? And yet as far as hell goes, the experience was moderate. Yes, I was highly uncomfortable. But I wasn't screaming in agony and retained a slight objectivity throughout.

What was this about? My childhood fear being brought to life? I was never shown anything like an opposite. no ecstasy, no nirvana, and continued to feel mildly disturbed as the recollection of the experience today. I try my best not to hate the journey and want it to end the minute it started, but I so did, and I believe anyone else experiencing what I did would hate it just as much. I've read a good deal of the hallucinogenic literature, and I knew that aboging wasn't supposed to be a walk in the park, and for example, that for drinkers of ayahuasca would have difficult experiences

of purging and battling the negative before breaking through into the love and light. But nothing that was happening to be made or makes any sense. One might argue that you do not need to be able to interpret the experience to gain from it, but it seems clear to me a year later that I did not gain much from it consciously or unconsciously. The most interesting part to me, perhaps, were the visions I had with my eyes open. For the most part, it was extremely difficult to keep my eyes open. but when I would open them a bit, I could see the room, normally for a second, and then it would quickly start morphing. The interesting thing is that it would always morph into the same things,

rather than different things throughout the night, as if another room with consistent objects existed on top of mine. For example, every time I would look at the closet, a figure would begin to emerge, Africans, in fact, dressed in tribal ceremonial garb. Now I have read pretty much, something about the appearance of these spirits in people's sessions and thought it was a good omen. So I was curious about the figures, but too sick and frightened, and would quickly squeeze my eyes shut as they floated towards me. I can't emphasize enough that the undercurrent of this experience was a pure bodily fear. No matter if what was occurring like the tribesmen was inherently neutral and no matter how I tried to soothe myself with my mind or breathing, when my provider would

come in with my water, it would appear to me as if he were also overlaid with the tribal get-up. Also, a wrought iron framed a mirror in the corner of the room would turn into a pre-Columbian Central American-looking figurine, interesting given that an ancient pyramid lay not far behind the mirror. Thursday Day I would look at that mirror every once in a while to check my progress, and as daylight broke the visual hallucinations with my eyes open-stopped. I remained much too dizzy to move or keep them open, however, and spent the entire next day

and night in bed with the cartoonish, hypnagogic, nonsense racing through my brain, exhausting and annoying me. It felt like it was slowing down, but intermittibly slowly, like radioactive decay. Oh, how very much I just wanted it to stop. I don't remember having much of any conversation. However, I could at this point wobble myself to the bathroom. On this day, I experienced no open-eyed hallucinations, except tracers. Thursday night.

I fell asleep the second night, which is unusual. Most people cannot sleep for a few days after treatment, and I woke up sometime in the middle of the night in a panic. My body stabbed with pain, heart racing. I was already in a lot of pain from being in bed for so long, and even normally I often get sore and my muscles tighten up while I'm sleeping, meaning the first deep breath I take. when awakening can cause sudden stabbing pain in my backslash chest. This sudden pain sensation, enhanced by being high,

and in combination with all the other side effects, was a terribly confusing and disorienting way to wake up, like a shock to the soul. My heart raced out of control, and I experienced some of the worst panic yet. I called to my provider, who said he had never seen someone react fearfully at this stage, which only freaked me out more.

However, he moved into my room to sleep on the floor and that calmed me down quite a bit. The visions slash hallucinations of this second night were much like fever-induced ones I'd experienced throughout my life, being mixed up about my body and identity, for example, associating physical positions of my body with different numbers. Another side effect is that throughout the whole experience, I had wiggled and rocked in my bed and continued to wiggle and rock my legs and hips constantly for about one week. afterward. This sort of compulsive rocking and wiggle was more extreme but similar to an experience I had when taking pills at age 18. Each day my provider kept telling me tomorrow I'd be clear-headed

and happier than I had ever been in my life, and I hope fervently for such an outcome. Alas, it was never to come. Friday day. I was depressed, frightened and cried at someone disappointment that my body had not been healed. But by Friday morning, I felt ready to eat some fruit and by afternoon I was ready to come downstairs. I was still dizzy, but sick to death of that bed. Actually, I remained dizzy for months afterward, with the severity of the dizziness fading slowly over time, until eventually it was only perceptible at certain times like when my eyes closed, or early in the morning, and then not at all. And when I say dizzy, what I really mean is not a lack of balance, but a sort of jumping of tracking to the eyes and a sensation of movement as if floating in a river.

That way you might feel after stepping off a day on a boat, just never feeling still. It is not a very restful sensation. At this point, I experienced no more visions of hypnagogic images with my eyes closed, only endless racing thoughts. I went outdoors and later in the sun. I found that I was not able to read books. Although I could read the words, I could not comprehend sentences. It would just float through and not coalesce and stick in my brain. I was able to write, although my hand was weak, and I had difficulty focusing my vision. The first thing I wrote was, today was my third day on a bogein. I feel awful, same as before. Depressed, anxious, so much pain. It is hard for me to put it at the day. It is hard for me to put it

this in writing. Afraid, I'll solidify it somehow. So many fears, irritation, and anger at the pain. Afraid it will never stop. Afraid it will never stop because of my fear, it will never stop. Afraid that because I can't be detached observers for some reason, I am doomed. I'm afraid I'm possessed by something that is beyond my willpower to overcome, even if that demon is only my fear. I feel lost in fear. Drowning in a sea of fear, in case. in a layer cake of fear. Maybe I did it wrong. Maybe I should take more of Bogain. But there is the other side too. The side that says that doesn't make sense if there was only fear in my life and not hope. Why would I be here in the first place? Why would I come here? Why would I ever keep trying to

be well? I feel the same as before. Do I feel the same as before? I'm afraid I won't feel good tomorrow. I guess I can't really anticipate the future because all I have is now anyway. Why even try to imagine it good or bad? This is one of those layers I get trapped in because how do I come to that conclusion in a non-judgmental way? Maybe as long as I don't say, should think, or shouldn't think, maybe I just need a key word like future. But then again, trying to think about something, the present, positively, it is also like a lack of freedom there. It seems like a level of stress to even try either way. It's a real conundrum.

Maybe that's the point. I just shut down eventually. It seems like I can do no wrong on aboging. That it doesn't really matter what I do or don't think. I just have to have faith that the abogian will work for me. Or not. Don't believe it. I will see for myself eventually.

Wow. If you read these pages, they are so pendulous back and forth with faith, confidence, hope, fear, doubt, self-soothing. It is soothing to my mind. to know it is not all endless negative thoughts. It's that only soothing, because I judge my mind, though? I don't want to think any more about these things. I don't even care if I know the answers. I just want to be happy.

Anyhow, writing seems to be feeling good right now. It seems to help, I think. There is that doubt where I don't really know what I think, or the preferences I have are just barely. As you can see, my thoughts are very distressed. I have a two notebooks full of them. from the following months. No less mad than this entry from the first day.

What if this is true? What if that is true? Obsessive fears and hopes circular. Tangled arguments and analysis of my situation. Models and hypothesis about my life and what might be happening to me. The obvious thing to do would be to just stop worrying about it. But I couldn't. The obsessive cognition and metacognition was a direct side effect of the drug.

In those first few weeks, I wrote, constantly, compulsively all day long. It was the only thing I wanted to do. And who knows perhaps the only way to feel some semblance of calm and control over the endless thoughts? I was absolutely stuck in my head those first weeks. And try as I might, I could not get out or connect with the outside world, though beautiful and culturally stimulating as it was in Mexico. It was like living in a fog, or seeing in tunnel vision. I just couldn't break out of the deep introspection. At this time, the physical sensations in my body were also all-consuming and keeping me from interacting with the outside world. The main two being a pressure in the crown

and serious stomach discomfort. The pressure in my crown was sort of feeling as if a palm was pressing down on my head and wasn't terribly unpleasant. This lasted for a month or so. The stomach discomfort lasted longer and alternated between nausea and a feeling like a gas bubble trapped in stomach. I'm not really sure if this gas bubble was a real sensation or an energetic sensation, since sometimes it seemed to move higher up my chest. Also, since my teenage years, I have gotten dull burning acidic type pain when I am hungry, sort of like my stomach is eating itself. Unfortunately, because I was nauseated, my stomach was empty a lot during these times, so that sensation was often present. The nausea would come and go, and if I wasn't careful to eat during a slot, when I was gone,

it would often come back before I got the chance. I lost weight during this period and survived mostly on milk for a while despite the fact that I have a pretty serious food sensitivity to milk. The calories kept me going and the fat helped me to feel full. I also had terrible visual snow during these months which at times was bad enough to look like a fog in the room. After it was clear that I was still heavily under the influence of the drug

I extended my stay in Mexico by four days. so in total it lasted 10 days. I did not feel ready to go home when it was time. Still feeling terribly out of sorts, but little did I know the effects were going to be much, much longer. That week in Mexico, I was taken care of well, fed, massaged, and generally babysat. I was able to speak to people about my difficulties and cried often. But at times, I was very lonely for someone I knew and wished I could have had a friend

close by for moral support. The side effects dissipated slowly. One day, no more tracers. The next day, able to read again. The next, the rocking stopped. I stopped having panic attacks in the middle of the night, and I was able to climb the pyramid, and eventually felt physically and emotionally stable enough to walk to town by myself and order food in Spanish. During this time, I did much reading of spiritual self-help type literature and meditating. During two of the medications, I felt energy pop up and out of my body. This felt like a nice release and it pleased me that something interesting was happening but did not appear to diminish my bodily pain or change anything in general. I also had vivid and significant seemingly dreams during this event. The providers discouraged

brainwashing media such as television. I tried watching some stuff on my computer a few times to get a break from my own head but couldn't really concentrate. The camera movement would be dizzying and it was more like staring at box with people running around inside. I just couldn't get into it. I believe that things took a turn for the worse when I ended my vacation in Mexico and returned to Portland, back to my real life with its duties and chores.

The flight was incredibly stressful and I felt like I was going to fall out of my body. Alone in my apartment with no one to assuage my anxieties or feed me and the strange side effects continuing to plague me for God knows how long. perhaps permanently. I became increasingly psychotic, afraid that when I opened the door to my bedroom,

there would be a gaping black hole on the other side rather than a living room. Afraid I was possessed by a ghost and what I thought was my personality was not it at all, afraid of losing it and collapsing in the middle of the sidewalk. Afraid that I would wake up and be someone else.

Somewhere else. Many times I felt as if my head was like a balloon tethered to my body and was struggling to float off. Other times I lost track of my body parts while laying in bed and it would feel, for example, as if my arms ended in stumps at my elbows. The crazy introspection and journaling continued until one day after hiking with a friend, and I seemed to pop out all of a sudden. At which point, I became obsessed with the outside world in the way it looked, which to me was faking all wrong. Too bright. too colorful, not real, somewhat similar to the psychological literature I've read on depersonalization

or derealization personality disorders. Keep in mind that all of this is happening while still experiencing dizziness and stomach problems and frequent bouts of existential nausea. And when not full-blown nausea, simply thinking every five minutes or so on how weird it is to be alive, it's impossible. Somethingness and nothingness are both impossible. My existence doesn't make any sense, and yet here I am. Even formally pleasurable activities like reclining in the sun took on an unbearably freakish quality. As you can imagine, this makes it hard to get anything done,

but I continued to work and school to the best of my abilities. I continued to spend time with my friends. Some of them knew what I was going through. Some did not. You might be wondering how I coped. I went to an acupuncturist at one point, for dizziness and anxiety. I did see several therapists and attempted at one point to get other anxiety medicine but was refused. I talked to some people who knew some things about a bogein.

Nothing the therapist said help me. That old idea again, that they spat it at me, that my own rejection of the situation was making these symptoms worse for myself, just made me feel broken and inferior like other people can let go and enjoy their drugs. Why can't you? What did help? I believe, was simply venting and crying in describing how awful it was as someone and to have them pity me. I also researched things like Kundalini imbalances, as well as the result of taking hallucinogens, which sounded a bit like me. But I was never able to make any dent of my symptoms with things like grounding meditations, nor exercise, nor massage, or herbs, nor spending time outdoors versus in the city. Suffice to say, for me, the aboging experience,

was a very negative experience, and a horrifically long-lasting one. I would estimate that for at least two months afterward, my everyday life was entirely dominated by the aboging psychosis, and for a further two months after that, it was at least influenced or perceptible daily in an unpleasant way. As a graduate student and someone who led a difficult and limited life due to an illness prior to the experience I was able to use my strength and will and somehow get through these difficult times, minute by minute, hour by hour, day by day. I believe that someone with a family to care for and full-time work undergoing what I went through would most certainly experience serious repercussions.

The mental anguish alone sustained over such a long time with no apparent rewards or silver linings was enough that I cannot, in good conscience, recommend the drug to anyone. By five months after taking aboging, the direct side effects were minimal, but my chronic fatigue symptoms had begun to worsen. I had difficulty sleeping, felt feverish all the time, became more sensitive to lights and sounds, and as a result, was forced to drop out of school. Is it a coincidence that the most difficulty of my illness followed the ingestion of abogine? It could be, but it is also reasonable to believe that the long-term stress of those months, the constant psychics psychological turmoil, and poor diet exacerbated these increased health problems. New age types might argue for the healing crisis, but all I know is that my CFS is still going

strong, and the only thing that got me back to an average amount of sickness, such as I had prior to ingesting a bogein, was seven months of neuropathic medical care and trial and error of various pharmaceutical drugs. So, many questions remain. What is about me? my genetics or physical health or psychology that my experience was so bad. Am I just stubborn? Resistant? Can I not learn my lesson as some suggest? Why did the high last so long?

Does it store somehow and did it take the drug itself that long to fully detox from my body? Or did it change me in some way that took long to go back to normal? People who have had beneficial experiences with abogaine also report feeling under its influence for several months. Some of the side effects like slight alterations in the visual perception of patterns, the way cars shine

too hyper-realistically after rainstorm and tendency while doing my daily chores think life. What the fuck? Remain to this day. It is as if it installed a tendency to slip into awareness

of the present moment in me, but I find the present moment distasteful and weird. Far from being a peace and love fest, the sensation is a, more one wrinkling your nose at a pile of dog poo or of suspicion. As if this being a live thing is all some sort of strange joke. I recently had the unfortunate accidental opportunity to experience a THC overdose for the second time of my life and was surprised at how extremely

similar it was to the abogian experience. These similarities were a sudden, oh shit, I'm really getting high, panic near the beginning of the experience, followed by being totally floored, unable to do anything, but lay down with my eyes closed, and fast, fast, fast, visual imagery in fast, fast, fast, fast, fragmented, repetitive thoughts, consisting of noticeably positive and negative thoughts, and a third train of thought analyzing what is happening, trying to figure out what it all means. Desperately hoping there's some kind of spiritual message or healing going on, some method to the madness. This was accompanied by temperature changes, only heat in this case, no cold, and spastic wiggling, especially of the legs. Also lots of arm movement

accompanied by lots of moaning and groaning. Pretty sure I was silent during a bogeing, but I may have been restricted myself due to the presence of strangers. I feel asleep in this state and kept exploding back into my body when I was woke. Confusingly, much like the disorientation of waking up while on a bogeing. Also, even after the initial flood faded by 12 hours, the slight uncomfortable high and noticeably different and annoying meta cognitive thought process lasted for many days afterward accompanied by pressure in the crown of the head and lack of appetite basically a mini aboging trip also a few times in the month following aboging i attempted to drink a beer and became extra dizzy this always happened to be in the past while ingesting alcohol and

t hc together what do pots and abogian have in common why do our responsive negatively to both. That slightly anxious and irritating judgmental hyper-interrespectiveness happens even with a few puffs of a joint and isn't unique to overdose. Why do they both affect me for so long? Is my body super sensitive or unable to properly detox? Like all difficult life experiences, taking a bogeing was a learning experience and interesting in that regard. However, I regret taking a bogein, and I especially regret spending something like that. like $4,000 to take it, $3,000 for the treatment, and another $1,000 on travel. I really wish the facility had refunded my money after I told them that the drug not only did not help me, but caused me

substantial suffering and life disruption. I do not think of bogeing should be illegal, and I know that people will continue to seek it out regardless of my report, and that it will continue to help some of them, but I feel that there's much more to learn about the proper administration of this drug. Wow, that was a long one and very scary. I mean, I can't imagine taking a substance and then suffering from it for months after. That must be such a terrible experience and I can only feel for the OPE. And there's a reason why a bogein, which is supposed to be a non-addictive or, in fact,

anti-addictive is banned in major countries. These side effects of hallucinogens aren't just nausea and dizziness. They can be far worse, like this person. It can affect you psychologically, which isn't so easy to cure as a fever. Even worse, they spent thousands of dollars to effectively hurt themselves in the name of treatment, even in a facility with experts who were supposed to know how to properly dose the drug. Just remember that there's a reason why drug agencies like the FDA are so strict. Abogine is so harmful that in the U.S.

It is even banned for medical usage. And next up is one of the strongest drugs on this list and in general, ever. And I have talked about it in my past delirion video, but you guys seem to love this drug and the stories around it, and we are talking about Salvia. Salvia is an extremely potent, mere micrograms can trigger a full disassociative episode roughly 10 minutes long. And unlike a bogein, it bypasses the serotonin pathways entirely and interacts directly with the neural circuits associated with pain, fear, and body perception. It is also known as the reality splitter, as users report an overwhelming sense of dimensional collapse,

as they can no longer distinguish themselves from the environment and vice versa. And when it hits, it hits instantly. You can't tell that you're about to start tripping, your consciousness dissolves before you can even comprehend it. Motor control disappears while your mind dives in and out of reality. The drug doesn't really do much to your body. Instead, it wages war on your brain, leaving you psychologically jarred and confused.

Now we're going to listen to an account of this horrific experience. Are you ready? Insanity and Sunui. Vibrating meat machines. Salvia. By Michkin. And the post and story reads as follows. I tried Salvia for the first time.

Background. My past experience with drugs has been moderate. Having smoked pot semi-regularly as a teenager and on a few occasions in the past several years, and having done mushrooms a few times. The last time the trip was pretty powerful, both mentally, looking at my life from a new perspective and physically, feeling that I was becoming one with objects, compared to the more body highs I had experienced on mushrooms as a teenager,

but I was still completely conscious of what was going on the whole time. Based on my experience with mushrooms and pot, knowing people who have done a lot of LSD and having read a lot about salvia and other hallucinogens, I thought I was prepared to do salvia. Prior to going to purchase it, we, my wife, her friend, and I, watched videos online of people smoking it,

and they ranged from people laughing uncontrollably to babbling unintelligently, to lucidly describing experiences that sounded similar to what I remembered from mushrooms. Thus, I expected an experience similar to mushrooms in which I would remain conscious and in control. And now on to the experience.

I wanted to do it outdoors, rather than in some dim room surrounded by clutter. But the meadow we wanted to use had people picnicking in it. So our backup plan was in the woods next to the meadow. We sat on a moss-covered log, and I put a pinch of salvia into a pipe. I didn't know exactly how much to smoke, but this seemed like a reasonably safe amount.

I took the hit. And within 5 to 10 seconds, I felt a high coming on very quickly. I said, there's definitely something happening here. The next thing I knew, I was emerging from what must have been a momentary state of unconsciousness. I regained sight, but reality seemed to be shaking slash vibrating back and forth on an axis around me, so that my consciousness was being pulled down into the right. while I was trying to lift my head up and to the left and struggling to focus on the reality and not lose control.

Reality felt very meaty and sinewy, and I felt like I was hanging from reality by a sinewy thread and that if that threat broke, I would never recover and would simply go insane. For a few minutes, the experience was extremely unpleasant, disturbing, and terrifying. I don't know how to describe in words the terror I experienced. especially now that it's hours later, and I'm completely clear-headed.

I felt like my eyeballs, or any other part of my body, might tear or split open at any moment, like the way my mind was being torn in all directions with the vibration of reality might also happen in my body. I struggled desperately to focus, and I tried to look left at my wife and her friend, but no matter how far left I tried to turn, I could only get them in the corner of my eye, as I was still being pulled downward into the right. The terrifying feeling was that if I were pulled far enough in that direction, the thread would break and I would permanently go mad. I also felt at the time that I had experienced this feeling on drugs before

and that I was a fool for having forgotten it and subjected myself to it again. But since I've only ever done pot and mushrooms, I can't think of a specific time that my grip on reality has ever felt half as threatened as it did today. The feeling that was similar is also the feeling I have the most trouble describing. Connected to the feeling that only one thread remained between my mind and reality was a generally alien way of seeing and perceiving, in which things and people were monstrous.

On the one hand, they seemed like robots or machines, and at the same time, all too organic, like they were meat machines, like terrifying animals that were native to the this new reality in which I could only be an alien and a madman and with whom I could not communicate. Mind you, this meat machine reality was not a physical high, a way of perceiving animal bodies in a new indifferent way as if on mushrooms, all the while understanding that it was simply the effect of a drug. It was a mental high, terrifyingly convincing, as if the chemicals in my brain had been completely scrambled for good and I would never be able to process reality in any way remotely resembling sanity ever again. All this time, I was vibrating on the axis right on the line between sanity and madness,

horrified that each vibration might break the thread holding me there and I would never recover, but be trapped in this terrifying moment forever. When I could get my wife's face in the corner of my eye, and her friend's face in my peripheral vision, they were standing there completely sober and smiling expectantly, casually and innocently, waiting to see what I might do or say about what I was feeling. Little did they know that I was terrified to the verge of madness and was unable to speak. Their smiles, with their mouths hanging slightly open and waiting, frustrated me terribly.

They didn't get it that I was struggling between reality and madness while they were standing there casually waiting to see what would happen, that they were a monstrous part of my madness, even while I could still barely understand who they were and that I knew them. Later, when the experience was over, their casual smiling faces, and the way it frustrated me at the time was the most haunting image that stayed in my mind. After what felt like a couple minutes of struggling mentally, I was able to get out of syllables of sound, trying to relearn how to speak. I was very confused, about where I was and what was going on since I seemed to have blacked out briefly between the onset of the high in the moment when I began to be conscious of my physical surroundings again.

I had virtually no memories from before the blackout and I could remember why I was there. The range of my knowledge was extremely limited and primitive. I knew who I was with and that I was struggling to regain a grip on reality, but they did not understand. That was literally all I knew. For a time, I couldn't remember what I had taken, if I had taken anything, or why I had done it. It was like awakening after a years-long sleep, or being born even, to find myself in the situation I was presently in. I felt like an amnesiac and was terrified that all my memories had been deleted from my brain and would never be recovered.

I managed to stand, and I looked around me, trying to figure out more of the details of the situation I was in. I saw the pipe on the log, which confirmed only that I had taken something, not what or why. There were two pieces of tin foil we were using as screens for the glass pipe. In the presence of the foil felt very dirty. As if I was on a drug, I ought to feel ashamed to be on, and that added to the unpleasantness of the situation. Finally, after a struggle with my memory banks, I remembered that I had in fact deliberately smoked a specific substance, and that it was called Salvia. I remember pointing to the pipe and managing to get the word out.

Salvia, the first word I had remembered how to speak. It was later confirmed to me that indeed I spoke only that single word. Now I was beginning to get a grip on the situation, but I was still extremely confused about these sequence of events leading up to the situation I was in and what I was supposed to do next. I knew deep in my being that the thing, The drug I just smoked was very, very bad, as it had just intensely threatened my sense of my own sanity. And not knowing then what I know now, I was still quite frightened that I would remain insane forever.

I was beginning to get words out now. And I started telling them that this stuff was bad, not good, that I didn't understand where I was or what was happening. And that I needed to get out of this forest. I felt that the dim level of light in the forest had been responsible for my blacking out. that if I had been some were better lit and with more to look at, that I would have maintained more awareness of reality throughout the experience. I also still felt that all of reality was meaty and sinewy, and that I was attached to it,

and that the forest with its twigs and pine needles was tearing at me, and that if I could get out, I could begin to recover and calm down. As we walked out of the forest, I was still trying to explain that the drug I'd just done was very bad, and that I was very upset. But to my dismay, my wife and her friend didn't seem to understand the gravity of the situation that was so obvious to me.

And they were saying that my wife's friend was going to smoke some now. That blew my mind. That after what I had just been through, they were acting and talking so casually and saying that she was going to do it even though I was telling them right then what horrible stuff it was.

The problem was, they were still aware that we had, had come to the forest planning for the two of us to smoke it, me first and then her. Whereas I was only working with the very limited knowledge I had been able to put together since I'd woken up in the forest five minutes earlier. The plan that I'd come here to do on this purpose and that she was going to do it next was very unclear to me. And they're saying that she was now going to do it seemed crazy.

We came out of the forest and I saw the blue sky and the clouds and the trees and I realized that I knew what they were and where I was, and that I was calming down. I still was not confident that I would ever return completely to normal. I felt like I must have killed large portions of my mind and might live the rest of my life as a mentally disabled person. I followed them across the grass as they were looking for somewhere to sit so she could smoke it,

which was still very upsetting to me. They came to an area and said, This is a good place, and we sat down. At this point, I was recovered enough that I was rambling a lot about how upset I was, and how salvia was really bad stuff, and that I would never do it again, and might never do any kind of drug again, and I was so upset that no matter what I said, my wife's friend was still about to smoke this stuff anyway. Again, the main thing here was that I didn't understand that we had come there planning to do it,

and that since they were still sober, they were still following the plan, while the plan was entirely obsolete as far as I was concerned and I only knew that Salvi was terrifying and bad and that I'd just woken up in a forest on the godforsaken stuff in a state that I would never wish upon anyone. The user thought he was stepping into another mild trip. Something strange, but still safe. Instead, he was ripped out of his own body

into this grotesque world where he couldn't even trust his own brain to think properly. Only after an intense mental struggle was he able to escape or at the very least detach himself slightly from the trip. Still, the after effect remained and the haunting fact that reality could disintegrate

in your own mind in minutes and you can't do anything about it. So terrifying. And that's the end of our stories today. I hope you enjoyed listening to them and never want to try anything we talked about today. I definitely won't be. And hopefully this is, you know, educational for you

so you can think before you partake. And keep in mind, while some of them may sound like made-up stories, they aren't. Hallucidogens are no drug, and every substance should be treated with the utmost respect and do thorough thorough research before you do anything if this didn't sway your opinion on it at all. And what's most terrifying is not the physical damage to your body,

like in other hard drugs. It's the psychological impact that affects every part of your day and night leaving you with no escape, even in sleep, which truly is just a nightmare for me to imagine. And if you decide to try them, make sure you're with someone you trust or just better yet don't just don't try them

thanks for watching please like the video and subscribe to the channel and stay safe and this was snook and i'll see you next time bye