Probably most wild was having a bad night on coke staying in a hotel and freaking out, flushing the coke that was left and promising to sort my life out while simultaneously texting a girl trying to get her to come fuck me. Getting 2 hours sleep in the end, waking up, checking out of hotel, meeting my mate, having a couple of joints and getting tube in to central London and walking round like fucking weirdos all Sunday.
I once ended up in a car speeding down the motorway to Stonehenge driven by a sociopathic coke dealer whilst the lot of us in the back were off our faces on shrooms, blasting happy hardcore and listening to the whooshing sounds the lines on the road made as we went past. We wandered round the stones while tripping until the sun was coming up, and I remember legging it down the slope as we became convinced we heard a dog barking and thought a security person was coming after us.
There was another time I was on GHB, ketamine and alcohol and ended up experiencing ego death and rebirth in my bed. I think that one was probably the more headfucky. I remember feeling very confused after remembering what my name and who I was and how many hands I had. I'm sure I've gotten up to some more things during benzo blackouts, but fortunately I can't remember them.
I've had some horribly introspective drug experiences (that's narcissism for you) and done some daft shit, but the worst was mixing MDMA and ketamine (and booze and weed). I spent two hours counting my heart rate with 999 dialed into my phone ready to hit the green button.
If there is a next time, just make the call. Polydrug use is weird and unpredictable, and can go horribly wrong very quickly. Any number of biological processes can spiral out of control if you throw enough drugs at them, and there's a significant risk of harming yourself because you aren't in control of your faculties. If you phone an ambulance, they won't grass you up to the police, they just want to make sure you're safe. At worst you'll spend a wasted night in A&E under observation, but getting prompt medical attention might just save your life. When in doubt, call them out.
Nothing too mental, but a mate of mine broke up with his girlfriend a few years ago. He came around, we watched Nazi Zombies, got drunk. Went into town after he said 2 girls were waiting, got more drunk - did far too much mcat - smoked a joint. One girl fucked off. One girl, a 30 something natwest employee wanted to be fucked. Went to my student house. She sat in my big gaming chair, asked why it was so big. He asked me to get off with her, grab her ass. He was getting off to it (internally), but I didn't care. We left mine, I didn't have a bed, only a chair. I should have remembered this. We walked 30 minutes through Swansea at 5-6am, groping her through alleys, getting off with her. It got a bit weird, I said I was bisexual and if he wanted to suck me off (I'm not). He handled it surprisingly well, and rejected it. We arrived at her house. Ben 10 toys amassed on the floor. Sat in her living room in silence as she made a cup of tea in the kitchen. No words spoken, anxious, wired looks exchanged. Drank tea in the garden, smoked a fag. "Shall we go upstairs, quiet though, my boy is in bed". Tiptoe upstairs. Her room is some sort of hippy sex palace. We took it in turns to eat her pussy. I couldn't get hard, nor could my mate. The mcat I think. We all fell asleep in bed, her in the middle, hugging us both. I didn't fall asleep, I was trying to process what the fuck just happened and is happening. The drugs mix to give me a sudden state of extreme confusion and paranoia. I need to leave. I get up and quietly get changed. Leave the house. I'm still fucked. Go for a full english. Walk home. My religious housemate, making breakfast in the kitchen, ask where I have been. I tell her every single detail and she never makes conversation with me again. Post in the weekend thread, then fall asleep.
>>7536 >My religious housemate, making breakfast in the kitchen, ask where I have been. I tell her every single detail and she never makes conversation with me again.
Loud mirth.
Probably a field party (a mini rave) down in Sussex many years ago. Started with some pills, then a whole load of mushrooms - only time I think I've experienced what I think is called rabbit-holeing. I would be mid-conversation and zoom up the rabbit-hole away from the external world into my own little world, losing all awareness of the people around me. About 4am someone leaves to go and buy some ketamine. I thought it was a bit strange to do so, instead of staying and enjoying the fun, but she comes back about 6 with a bag and generously passes it around. So I have a bit, as the sun is coming up, and we spend a few hours spacemanning around the field. First time I'd tried ket. The combination of the sun, sky, drugs, made it one of the most pleasant and peaceful times in my life.
Second time was a week later after going to the pub. That was horrible. Standing in someone's kitchen clinging onto the counter like I was clinging on to reality itself.
>>7539 Isn't it just. That's not even the first story I've heard of mates on MKAT offering to get gay with each other, then being horrified in the cold light of day. Should be a listed side effect.
Probably the weirdest it got for me was a short-ish period of time where due to certain circumstances I was in possession of near-infinite quantities of GHB and modafinil and got into a habit where I'd stay up all night on GHB and go to work on moda, only sleeping at the end of every third day; a sort of bizarre 60 hours awake / 12 hours asleep cycle that I somehow managed to keep up for about a month. The weekends got particularly weird with the addition of a bunch of other stuff, most notably 20g boxes of psilocybe tampanensis.
By about week two I was wearing sunglasses indoors on an almost permanent basis due to my eyes hurting from staring at computer screens for 72 or 96 near-consecutive hours. I took to listening to UKF dubstep mixes on an almost almost constant loop while I was home and would slide/shuffle around the polished wooden floor of my flat in my socked feet with my sun glasses on and a hoodie hanging off my head like a sort of cape.
Somewhere around the end of week three I decided to fly out to Manhattan to spend less than 24 hours there visiting a friend because he was about to go to prison the following week ("Best four figure sum ever spent to watch a movie, ever"). This was just after the "underpants bomber" had failed to blow himself up and this, combined with the rather odd circumstances of my visit and my florid collection of passport stamps got me very heavily security vetted before boarding to the point of delaying the plane. So much for keeping cool.
I spent the entire time I was in New York and not in a taxi taking ketamine in what can only be described as "dumbfounding" quantities. Being quite unaware of the going rate for drugs in Greenwich Village I can't say how much we went through but we spent about a grand (in dollars) between the two of us on drugs while I was there; by the end I was railing little miniature Himalayan mountain ranges of the stuff and getting only the mildest of visual distortions. I had a late-afternoon flight home on Sunday, which I passed out on, and woke up early on Monday morning just in time to nip home, shower, neck a handful of a badly mislabeled and hastily FDA-recalled bodybuilding pre-workout supplement that I'd brought back with me and head into the office.
I lasted a couple more days on my GHB/moda schedule, maybe until the end of the week and then I had to stop, I was very obviously beginning to come apart at the seams, but it was a hell of month.
A close runner-up would be the weekend I spent doing speed and GHB with a girl where we very, very nearly ended up meeting someone from a personal ad for her to be fucked by a pair of Dobermans; alas this post has prattled on for long enough already and I shall end it here while I still maintain a shred of dignity.
>>7536 Oh I forgot to mention that he lied about breaking up with her, and they had argued that night or something. They got back together and she found out. A year later I am living with him in his house, and as part of the "healing process", she springs on me the question "so tell me about that night"... as I'm sitting down in the living room. Was pretty awkward. But she bought me a tenbag as an apology afterwards. Really nice girl fair play.
My widest drug experience was ordering 3 grams of etizolam off the internet and not doing anything besides lounging, eating and sleeping for about 4 months - all that lethargy made me quite wide indeed... oh wait you said wildest...my mistake, i'm fucked up right now tbh...
I've had a few wild ones earlier this year to be honest.
The one night, I believe I did a little MDMA and was drinking whisky. I stayed indoors with my flatmate and the majority of the night nothing wild happened at all. I guess it must have been getting late, so I decided to take an etizolam to put me to sleep. However, I was not prepared for the blackout one will experience after consuming large amounts of alcohol and benzos.
The next day I woke up in just a nighty and a wig. I can not remember putting these items on (I am an occasional corssdresser, these items were mine). I got up off the couch incredibly confused and looked in the mirror. I had incredibly poorly done makeup on my face and looked a bit like a clown. I genuinely to this day cannot remember doing this to myself. At some point that morning I had a worrying flashback, I remember knocking at this pub door which was shut. It then dawned on me, that I had being wondering around my city in just a nighty and wig. The time must have being after 3am, as that's when the pub closes.
The other crazy night I had, was a bit more mental. I went for a night out at the gay club where they were having a hard trance/techno night. Me and my housemate took some MDMA and some coke before going out. We continued to drink at the club. It was a bit of fun, had a bit of a dance before making our way back home. Up until then nothing too crazy. I was kind of stimmed, so decided to take an etizolam to chill me out. However, I guess once again I had drank too much and once the etizolam kicked in, I turned into a bit of a monster.
I demanded that we did more drugs. I found the MXE and I started dabbing at it over and over. My housemate told me he took the bag off me, but at that point it was too late and I'd already done it all. I can just about remember saying "I don't know who I am" and then the memories get blurry. My housemate told me he took to my bedroom. About 10mins later, he said that I was in his room, clambering on him, shouting "where are the drugs, where are the drugs?!". He pushed me outside his room. I can vaguely remember completely losing my mind on the dark stair case. I think I must have got stuck there for ages. I'm sure there was some, memory, time, out of body experience which probably lasted a long time. I am positive I was holing whilst stuck, or laying on the stair case. Unable to think at all, just experience. Nothing was real and I think I was an atom on the outskirts of space. I do wish I could remember a little more about the experience.
The only other thing I can vaguely remember is laying on the floor at the bottom of the stairs, and this massive realisation and sense of relief that I was in my house. I actually knew where I was. This bit of information felt tremendous at that point. I woke up the next day in my bed and felt a little that something huge and uncomprehensible happened the night before. It also felt like I was a new person, like something in my brain had reset. I felt pretty damn strange for a week or two after that. Took a while to get over it.
As it happens, I'm now taking a break from all drugs. As I tend to be too unresponsible with them and had a scare with etizolam withdrawals recently. I really, really don't recommend mixing downers. Not only is doing so physically very dangerous, but if you blackout you could easily do some really stupid shit. Such as get in your car, have a fight, end up in the cells, or hospital. I imagine if you left the house at the wrong time, you could easily end up getting sectioned too. Be careful folks. It can only take one crazy night, to make a mistake you may regret for the rest of your life.
I guess it depends how you define wild. Doing the best part of a gram of Charlie back fifteen years ago when decent stuff was easy to get. I was at an award ceremony in Park Lane, which included things like awards for best drug treatment. The evening include doing a Harry Enfield scouters impression at Paul McCartney and asking a two Danish women if they were up for a threesome if I gave them £300 each.
> The evening include doing a Harry Enfield scouters impression at Paul McCartney and asking a two Danish women if they were up for a threesome if I gave them £300 each.
