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Rated: 18+ · Novel · Experience · #1786648
This is an excerpt from my book it is about my graduation from drugs to anorexia.
Dmt.... falling through the millenium'z at the whim of my insecurities was a bit alarming to say the least. But lying down i was able to ground myself and realized that while i can't see my body... it is in fact there. Focus your breathing and just know your power. I say approach with extreme caution.

This all started one morning with the intent of hiking early with the dogs. I wanted to go to Bronies with Tom to let Herschel run and while we smoked. I woke, drunk, not knowing where i was or how i got there, to the intriguing text message in the early hours of 1:30 am from Renderferd saying "holly shit, i have never tripped that hard in my life. The dmt i have is retarded potent."

And readers as i am aware you have learned from my belligerent rantings, i continued each enactment of my normal morning tasks with up most jubilance. I could barely fight back the anxiety caused by my horrific expectations, but i tried to calm myself. I smoked weed, and tried to pass the morning dew without terrifing myself with my own expectations. My mind raced with the thoughts of my last experiences, but nothing i had ever .. could have equipped me with the (life experience) i was about to inquire in just one afternoons (reckless) dive down the rabbit hole.

I nearly let my restlessness get the best of me.
(current time: omfg black coffee, what a sacred undervauled pastime.) ok.

So. needless to say, no amout of attempted level headedness could ease my untamed heart beat. I spent most of the moring trying to numb myself smoking pot and watching Serogets. Which, in present minds eye may have been responsible for the unreasonable amount of remorse i had for the existence of the human race. This, I beleive is inevitable in the rattling presence of dmt's grip. Remorse for simply living makes everyday seem like survival of the fittest.

Now time for the Trip!

Again with the depression. Tom says he doesn't have any lasting mental head trip from the DMT... but for me... its again with the after trip depression. Like i said, i can see where people get the idea to take off and kill themselves... God knows the damage i have done to myself... god knows...

It did taste like smoking a plastic bag through a garden hose.... needless to say, it hasn't deferred my rampant use of the drug.

DMT took over in an instant, and shook me from the core of my being. I experienced life times in an instant and was locked outside of my body. I saw her... me... staring back at me with stiff cold eyes hovering just before i watched the worlds colide. And as it soon as it came it went.. And here i'm damnded by insecurity and pleagued by the rush of emotions. I revel in my own insuggniffince as i have journeyed through sound, light and space in less then 30 mins, only to return a shell of who i once was.

Kaitlyn... what have you to show for yourself?

I was captivated and spent the next several months in the depths of a hallucinogenic binge. Ketimine, LsD, Mushrooms from gold to blue, and simply anything that promised to push me ever further in my quest for madness. In my own defense my high school best friend was living with me and we really hadn't had that much fun in years. Time to face all my fears, and defeat this blockade i have created to preventing me from any form of stability.

It was durring this time i truely started to notice what people thought of me. While me friends still have love and compassion there was also disgust for my effect on others and my personal unkempt need to defile myself daily. That guilt eventually became to painful to wear and i felt the need to isolate myself for my own good.

After dearest Renderferd OD'd on my couch after a night long of cocaine and morpine. Renderferd did one line and fell violently towards the door. He also some how managed to tear his ear in half which i later glued together once he gained consciousness. I was honestly terrified for him and for myself. All these years later and still fighting the urge to OD. The following day i split and entire bottle of Ativan, He laid down to sleep and turned blue. We rushed him to the hospital and as i sat by his side watching him weave in an out of consciousness i was dying inside. My other friends blamed me for his Overdose, but truely they dont understand that this is just a hazardous occupation.

Even the days following grew ever more excruciating as my Best friends / roommates lost their child to miscarriage. I felt responsible for everyone and everything and i littlerly found myself running to death.

Directly up the street from my house was a beautiful hillside trail that took you directly to the back entrance of the John Muir house. It was captivating and the only place i found freedom from persecution. I was running 3-4 miles 2-5 times a day, along with yoga and pilaties. I quit eating completely and lost 100lbs in 78 days. My already seemingly meek and weakened state left me in a horrible state of denial, and it wasn't until i went running and blacked out that i realized i had a major problem. For the first time i sought treatment for my illness...

I never thought that standing at 275 and 6ft tall, i would ever be thin. I was strong and buff, but still plagued with an eating disorder much of my life. I have always been slightly addicted to exercise and with 15 years of bulimia, i was about to graduate to anorexia. Blacking Out once i reached the top of the hill, i remember listening to Hendrix and then waking up on the ground several songs a head, I don't know exactly how long i was out, but i remember nothing there after until my abrupt arrival at Herrick Hospital Alta Bates. I was deeply confused and honestly disoriented for the first several days. Roomer had it i was staying in a room once inhabited by the great Carrie Fisher. Now Now, And such a coincidence as i just finished reading a few of her novels before checking into the Pen.

And the pen it is. I understand that have an amazing program, however i was locked up, stripped of my possessions, and given a quiet room with a huge sit in window. I wasn't even allowed to keep my toiletry's in my room as people have attempted suicide by shampoo. The bastards. It was me against the system and i wasn't happy or willing to give up control. It took a second trip back, 5 long weeks of treatment before i gave in fully to the program, and just like that i was released into the public. Needless to say, 15 years of eating difficulties wasn't easily cured in 5 weeks. I still struggle daily to simply ease my OCD and perfectionist issues and starving for a cure. For some reason if its not one it is the other, I am either starving myself or counting tiles. Compulsive running and obsession with self mutilation has left me caged in a life i truly have no control of.
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