T0:30
I have been immersed in a great dense stratus cloud that has settled over my existence. An icy dissociation freezes its way into my limbs. The visuals are dim and boring, barely discernible with eyes open or closed. This turns out to just be the prologue to the experience however-
I soon seep past this antechamber and begin to feel subject to overwhelming dissociation in earnest. It races down my limbs and into my being, blurring and deconstructing the world around me, turning it still and vitreous. My vision becomes nothing but a mere still image, devoid of the usual connections and associations that sensory stimuli generate. My open-eyed vision begins pulsing and flashing, as a sense of numbness and oscillating motion grips me, like great strong hands of icy static clutching my face, squeezing my arms, and wrangling my mind. I smoke cannabis from a bowl as I peak and nurse it over the next 10 minutes or so, this seems to have an effect of igniting flareups in the experience, bringing out the visuals and illuminating its overall intensity.
T0:35
Everything has converged into a very heavy mass, sinking into the fabric of reality, sagging it down. My mind still feels fairly lucid, but my body is trapped in viscous syrup. Everything feels very blue and purple. My sense of space is spasming- At once I feel very far away, very high up, very distant, then shrunken, compact, sinking into the earth.
T0:40
Some dissociatives have a sense of rushing force, like a raging torrent of dissociation stripping my senses away with furious velocity. There is a vicious manic energy to them, with racing thoughts and soaring visuals. This one presents as more of a sinking, suppressing dissociative, where I am slowly being immersed deeper and deeper into the pressing depths of a viscous numbing fluid. I fee like a malleable piece of bent metal.
T0:45
I am still cognitively very lucid and this seems to generate a sense of dissonance with how heavily dissociated my body is. My extremities feel like little crystals of syrup
My essence is dripping all over and there is a great weight in my head, as if a huge brick is glued to my brain. Closing my eyes yields a dulled space, decorated with cool colors like teals and violets.
T0:54
The experience is already on the downturn. I feel out of breath, despite it not being particularly jarring or intense. My mind is running exponentially faster with each passing moment as it rises out of the pool of this experience, my body is stil running slow. I still simultaneously feel spacey, droopy and deconstructed. I get up to go to the bathroom, walking is wobbly and difficult, but in more of a drunken way than the usual astoundingly broken proprioception that other dissociatives can impart.
T1:08
I cut out and redose 60 mg intranasally. It’s much less unpleasant this time, probably because I am already pretty dissociated.
T1:15
The second dose hits fast and hard, like an avalanche crushing my consciousness. I have been impacted, splattered across the dissociative space. My mind twists and bends to accommodate this striking new stimulus, or rather the lack thereof, as it smothers my perceptions. The closed eyed visuals have manifested more clearly, as grand violet forms slowly revolving and rotating around me, a dim room with stark corners and walls, formless yet acutely defined, empty and blank with great sharp rectangular voids.
My body feels like it’s being scanned as waves slowly pass through it, reading every bit of its form. Pulses run through my body and drag its essence along with them, turning my sense of self into a warped, smeared mess. I get many of the classical non-manic dissociative effects- the sense of movement when I am still, blurry double vision, difficultly reading, a twitching and flashing gripping my visual field.
T1:25
I am being spackled and spat across a grandiose void onto a gently rotating nexus. My seemingly comatose body is turning around it, a swirling violet Armageddon like a furious aurora thrashing above me, fracturing into looming blocks of color. I feel like I am being ground between the gravitation force of two great cosmic wheels, but it is an entirely pleasant sensation. With my eyes open, everything is draped in a matte veil of wintry blue.
I am sinking into a casket, I am gelatinous and blank, entombed in a gooey crystal prison garden, a sense of constriction and swelling and tightness overtakes me, as if I am being wrapped in cellophane or as if I am an arthropod about to burst from its vitreous exoskeleton. There are odd little pressure anomalies traveling around my body, as if little hands are brushing me and tapping me all over, particularly up and down my legs. The room is spinning and I am wildly dizzy. I would describe it as “dark ketamine”.
