Monday, October 4, 2010
sunday was dark
my liver became the densist object on sunday, a black whole, curling my body in wards: elbows to my knees, forehead to my stomach-- pulling all of my organs down and to the right--relinquishing me of all the placid water i knew-- a black ant being squeezed--squeezed from two relentless fingers throbbing my ears deaf--and the sensation of rotten food, of rotten death grabbed my inards without the smell wrenching my body--my vision dimmed: my limbs lost their motors and sank: the taste of nothing rolled through--my body convulged like a dead battery, not violently but un controlled--chris is going to have to provide you with what i said, what i muttered, what screamed in my head--
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Backstory?
on Sunday Chris and I split an eighth of mushrooms--and spent the day at Larrabee with Corbin and Nathan--the previous weekend I was rock climbing and received a deep blister in my fourth digit of my left hand--on Monday I drained it BUT didn't clean it properly--throughout the week it slowly swelled and became infected--on Sunday (while on mushrooms) it began to become unbearable as the mobility of the digit was suppressed due to the immense amount of pressure from the bloated infection--of course there were jokes and contemplations of me losing my finger--though joking the idea of that dug deep into me while under the influence of mushrooms--I could tell that I needed to drain the infection--and had tried earlier but was unsuccessful--on the ride back from Larrabee with music bumping loud it began to discharge puss due to the growing pressure--which I’m sure was a result of me running around on the beach trying to climb things and heavy hiking--at the grocery store at Haggen I told everyone that I just needed to drain it to relieve the pressure so that I could regain my fingers mobility I was deeply perturbed that my digit's range of motion was reduced to that of sluggish twitch (I couldn't close my hand) no one else in the car really wanted to deal with it BUT to me it was terrifying--as Nathan and Corbin ran inside to get dinner food--Corbin tossed me his keys that had a small pocket knife on them so that I could drain my finger--that was when shit went south--I was sitting in the front seat--my hand in lots of pain--my fingers mobility being reduced to nil--the idea of losing a finger echoing in my head--me holding a small dirty pocket knife in my right hand poking at my infected finger--watching it slowly discharge and bleed and knowing that it needed to be opened and drained--no one in the car was giving me any reassuring orders of what to do--there was no confidence in the kitchen and I was stuck to deal with it by myself (I felt)--so I began to push the knife in and it began to bleed...a bit...but the pain was overwhelming and the visual even more--I was scared--concerned--hurt--and uncertain--That was when I broke--I think I had a panic attack -- or my body just really rejected everything that was happening--I became very light headed and my vision narrowed the edges were dark, I felt horribly sick, my body was weak, there was an immense pressure in my head and I freaked out even more as I began to lose my hearing, my left hand fourth digit felt like it was being hit by a hammer throbbing hard and I began to curl down in the passenger seat--I was trying to talk my way through it and communicate everything that was happening to me to Chris who was sitting right behind me watching this unfold helping me fight through it--moments later it was over--I needed water I needed food I needed fresh air I needed to breathe I needed to not look at my hand I needed to be mothered--I was fine after that but was just completely shook by the whole turn of events--I honestly cannot remember what I was saying to Chris while this happened: Chris do you remember anything that I said??
-really the most scary part was losing my hearing
wow, Dante I had no idea of the extent/severity of your visceral reaction to your swollen finger, if I had I would have been more reassuring. From my end, you seemed fairly cool and collected, albeit insistent on dealing with it. I had no knowledge of your inner turmoil. An example of how mushrooms can magnify an emotional experience, transforming a small idea or feeling into a pigment that colors one's entire perception, like an oil slick seeping over a body of water. intentional communication is key in times like this and we can't succumb the fear that threatens to consume us in these dark moments. i've been there. last time we were up in the north cascades, i took hold of the small group tension/dysfunction/miscommunication that arose from a large group of tripped out individuals and used my heightened emotional sensitivity to transform that small awkward energy into a great monument. i fell asleep for a few hours and when i awoke i imagined that i had selfishly kept everyone waiting and my lack of communication had somehow ruined everyone's afternoon. I gathered my brothers together to apologize and ask forgiveness, only to realize midsentence that there was nothing to forgive and that the letting go needed to happen in my own mind. This is connected to your experience in that we cannot hold on to tightly to the residual emotions that linger after a negative experience like this, they can leave us in a funk for weeks. well i started in one place and ended in another - hopefully you all can connect with it.
my take on the situation is this: i was sitting in the back seat and dante was directly in front of me, nate and corbin had gone into the store and i started to strike up a conversation with dante. he was picking at his finger and saying that "this needs to be dealt with now." when i asked him if he was okay, he shook his head and didn't say anything. i asked again and he said "not good, i don't know what's going on" then heavier breathing and gasping, he said he needed help, it felt like his body was shutting down, the voice was extremely antagonized and desperate. he started to describe some symptoms, "world caving in, can't hear, cant move" this freaked me the fuck out because i was still tripping and had no idea how to deal. so i asked him again if he was okay and there was no response. so i got out of the car and opened his door to see if some air would help. more alert now, extreme reaction was over. said he felt extremely weak and still wanted to deal with the finger and started in again with the pocket knife. i was scared he was going to slice his finger off or something not to mention it was a nasty little pocket knife in this filthy bombed out car, i think i convinced him not to try to drain it at that moment and went inside to get gatorade and help. for the most part dante: you just seemed scared and disoriented, i dont think you knew how to handle what was going on inside your head. i remember you asking "what's happening to me?" i think the combination of extreme physical sensation coupled with mental stimulation near the height of the trip was what sent you over the edge.
mushrooms can be amazing, because it takes away emotional control and allows you to feel things on deeper levels than you normally could, unfortunately this goes for both negative and positive emotions. i think that the best way to deal with heading down the negative road is to be in contact with close/positive people. i remember last summer i tripped with i think ben nathaniel and matt? at the condo and had a great time until the end when i was by myself in bed and i just went to some really dark places because i couldn't control my mind and there was no one there to keep me in check.
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