α-PCYP

Age: 24

Weight: 135 lbs

Dosage: 40 mg vaporized

Setting: In my room

Yes, I am aware that such a whiny, melodramatic, and pedantic report will probably come off as insufferably nerdy to regular pyrovalerone users. Don’t know how yall do it, I guess it’s just not for me.

T0:00- Drop a couple small rocks (pebbles one might say) in a glass tube with a copper scrubber. I attempt to melt them into the scrubber but they are not cooperating. With a bit of work however, I get them to at least melt a little bit and stick to the scrubber/pipe. The crystals have an odor reminiscent of semen and bleach. 

T0:10- I’ve been able to pull a good bit from the pipe. The smoke is acrid and bears the semen/bleach odor even stronger. The taste sticks to my mouth and sinuses, but it pulls smoothly. I’ve been gently teasing it with the flame. Unlike other stimulants I have vaporized, there is no initial rush. I would scarcely say I’m feeling it at this point beyond being slightly more alert.

T0:15- Continue to whittle the pebbles down. They have now melted into brown clumps/streaks on the glass. I may have charred them a bit when I got too eager with the flame. The stimulation builds and builds with each hit, it seems to slowly creep up on me. I don’t particularly feel jittery or shaky, just a sharp, gentle, focused and warm stimulation with a touch of euphoria.

T0:25- I keep hitting the pipe intermittently for as long as it will still burn. It sets in incisively now, nudging its way to the forefront of my attention. I feel elated, fluttery and flighty, I feel so warm and sociable and want to talk to everyone. I message like 10 different people. I should know better by now, to not bother people when I’m feeling stimmy. This always happens, but alas, I feel an unquenchable desire to share my pleasant experience with as many people as I can. It has certainly leveled off at pleasant by this point, it is not driving or ferocious or rapid, just a nice euphoria being burned into my mind. Most of my messages go unanswered, I feel antsy like I should be occupying my time with something more productive.

T0:32- The pleasantries have expanded too much, too fast, they are cracking and giving way at their borders. A restless discomfort rolls in like a cold wind and sudden cloud cover smothering a sunny day. I begin to feel a tightness in my chest and a shortness of breath, reminiscent of my other (fairly limited) experiences with cathinones. It feels like I am constantly just gasping for air, involuntarily and repeatedly rapidly flexing my diaphragm. I begin to stim with my fingers, rubbing and pressing them into each other, as if I am trying to rub something out from deep within them, something I will never reach. I fidget and run them along rough textures I can find but nothing satisfies this deep set itch. I feel winded and twitchy, I keep hitting the pipe. It is hitting, but dwindling. I consider redosing, though there admittedly isn’t a strong compulsion to do so. Despite all the physical discomfort, I still feel very warm and social, I still want to expound the virtues of chemical enhancements to as many people as I can, and still very few people are responding. For the few who I am actively talking to, the words flow from my fingertips smooth and articulate. Perhaps excessively verbose, as stimulants are want to do. I feel so much pent up energy that can’t be released, like a spring becoming uncoiled in a confined space.

T0:40- I don’t really get much from the pipe anymore. I decide against repacking it as the discomfort builds and builds. It begins to chew away at the euphoria, withering it away like dry rot. My mouth tastes like bleach and semen and for the life of me I cannot stop rubbing my fingers on everything around me. I can feel my heart laboring in my chest, not enough to be alarming or worrying but enough to be quite uncomfortable. I can’t find any comfortable position to sit in, I feel like I am buzzing and hovering aimlessly through space and time with a mouth full of slick metallic robot jizz, and nowhere will ever be comfortable again. Conversing becomes awkward and I find myself struggling more and more with what to say.

T1:00- I could redose to stave this off supposedly, but I also do not feel like staying up too late. I find myself locked into indecision, completely incapacitated like a glitching computer. Some of the people I messaged earlier have begun to respond, but now I am frozen, no longer elated, no longer enthusiastic about sharing my altered state with them. I cannot hold conversation anymore, I am having a hard time piecing together coherent thoughts. Every word is overthought, overwrought, and incorrect in some undiscernible way. Communicating has become tedious and laborious. The aching in my chest and the strung-out restlessness in my muscles demands my attention every moment, to try and form thoughts around anything else is an exercise in futility.

T1:40- All I’ve been doing is languishing in my discomfort, thrashing around on my bed in various positions that will not satisfy the outlandish demands of my uncoiling muscles. My breathing is shallow and staccato, my heart pounds and my fingers cannot keep still. I have attempted one abortive task after another, but the tightness and tension that has encompassed my entire being pulls me away from anything I try to focus on. This is frankly unpleasant. I wonder if redosing would even curb this- I think I just naturally find stimulants to be fairly unpleasant. And then what, I come down again, and go through it all again? All traces of euphoria have been cast off now, now it’s just me and the consequences of my actions.

T2:00- Decide to take some etizolam sublingually to see if it will slow things down and cool things off. I’ve combined etizolam with milder stimulants in the past. This has yielded pleasant experiences where the drugs are foils for one another, gracefully filling in for one another’s shortcomings. I wonder if that will happen here and level the physical effects off.

T2:40- The two drugs have not gracefully embraced. Rather, it seems they are fighting for dominance of my central nervous system, grappling with a stark and sweaty and rippling tension that cracks the walls around them. I seem to have only really caught negative effects from this. My heart rate has slowed, which is nice. My breathing is still sudden and shallow, and I am still stimming my fingers uncontrollably. I seem to have really caught the dummy side of the etizolam- I frankly feel stupid as all hell. I can’t think straight, or piece together a coherent thought for more than about 15 seconds. I forget what I was thinking about or why constantly, my mind just wanders off, and not towards any particular distraction, but more like a child aimlessly wandering into a dense fog. This doesn’t feel like the suppressive brain fog that some drugs can instill however, it is a hot, swirling, all-encompassing, all-destroying stimulated fog, a fluttering torrent that has taken upon itself the mission of rendering me mentally feeble. I try to smoke weed to maybe douse this fire but it only seems to make things worse.

T3:30- I still feel my heart skipping and jumping, my heartbeat feels irregular but I don’t know if that’s just me being anxious. Thankfully the restlessness in my muscles has died down. The tightness in my chest still grips me. I think I am done with this experiment, I am getting nothing from it anymore. I was hoping the etizolam would lull me into drowsiness, but sleep is inconceivable right now. It seems to have whittled off the most acute stimulant effects, but there is still a burning ember that should be doused. I drop a couple drops of Flualprazolam, which has always been very hypnotic for me, onto my tongue, along with 50 mg of DPH. If this doesn’t knock me out, nothing will.

T4:20- Pass into an uncomfortable sleep.

Epilogue- I wake up the next day and all my limbs feel like lead. My chest still feels tight, I am very depressed and anxious, but not too mentally drowsy, my body just feels exhausted beyond function. This likely may also be from the fact that I had eaten almost nothing the day before. I manage to haul myself out of bed. Interacting with people throughout the day feels frustrating and awkward, my affect and emotions feel totally flat. I don’t really want to be around people I just want to be alone in my room, lying very still. My hands are still stimming quite a bit more than usual. I occasionally still feel twangs of tightness in my chest, sudden shortness of breath, or become acutely aware of my heart pounding out of time, like I am being slapped on the back by some impish ghost. This becomes less frequent as the day goes on. The acrid smell and taste of bitter chlorine semen still resides in my nose for much of the day, though I’m sure if I had showered at some point it may have helped it go away. I spend the night on a cocktail of dissociatives with friends, which seems to distract from a lot of the sordid energy that was wracking me.

I did not find this particularly enjoyable, I would still be curious to try it again in a social setting, but I am certainly not leaping at the opportunity. I wonder if the physical side effects I had were a normal part of the cathinone experience or if I should be concerned- I noticed almost identical side effects (though not as intense) through a mid-high intranasal dose of hexen. The comedown from that was remarkably less rocky though. I wonder if all cathinones would do this to me? I am once again, not rushing to find out, but it is something to ponder.