Site Meter Reflections on Playboy: No longer an Ecstasy virgin

September 1, 2009

No longer an Ecstasy virgin

This is the sequel to “The 37-year-old Ecstasy virgin.” Yes, I’ve met Molly. What a girl!

I give thanks to certain members of the hippie community of Humboldt County, California—they know who they are—for helping me blunder my way to a purchase of approximately one gram of MDMA powder last Thursday. Their compassion and willingness to trust me compensated for my awkward lack of street smarts. With great hope riding on the outcome, I took my first dose alone in my motel room the following morning, August 28. I had a good experience during my one “roll” so far, and it seems to continue being good for me four days later.

At 7:30 in the morning last Friday, I guesstimated a dose of 200 milligrams [error]*, a relatively high but not outrageous quantity, and swallowed it. An hour and a half later, dizziness, mild nausea, rapid heartbeat, perspiration, and a distinct sense of fearless open-mindedness told me it had kicked in. Did I say “fearless”? Actually, it scared me very briefly at first, but in a good way. I had already gotten some idea of what to expect by visiting TheDEA.org (no, not that DEA), a treasure trove of information on MDMA. Thanks to that site, I was prepared to deal with the side effect of jaw clenching by chewing gum. It brings a smile to my face to recall how vigorously I chewed.

For the next few hours, I performed certain tasks I had decided on in advance. From other people’s accounts of this substance, I had guessed that practicing piano under the influence, for example, could show me how not to be menaced by the obsessive thoughts and flashbacks that come with mental stimulation. It’s not clear whether my specific activities during the roll made a difference, but I was suddenly able to talk myself through the menacing thoughts. I suddenly noticed that they had no real power to deprive me of happiness.

Since MDMA is not suitable for everyday use, the psychotherapeutic effect needs to be permanent in order to be useful. So far, without taking the drug again, I appear to have retained the ability to cope with everything better. Fear has less power to keep me from setting goals and working toward them. Conversations are easier, warmer, and slightly more candid. I may still have demons, but I can never take them quite as seriously again.

This morning, a tinge of melancholy told me that my brain is still recuperating from Friday’s serotonin rush. Significantly, though, the depressed feeling did not evoke despairing thoughts. 200 milligrams of 5-HTP, an over-the-counter nutritional supplement, made me feel happy (but drowsy). I’m convinced that a few more MDMA experiences, one every four weeks or so, could liberate me further. If you haven’t met Molly, maybe you should.

*Update, October 18, 2009, 6:42 p.m.: Now that I have a scale that measures down to the hundredth of a gram, I can see what 200 milligrams of Molly looks like. In hindsight, I would guess my dosage of August 28 to have been in the neighborhood of 120 milligrams.

Posted by Brian Sorgatz at 2:25 PM

  • Anonymous R M Roxinger left this comment at September 4, 2009 11:04 PM  
    So "Molly" is a personification of ecstasy? I had no idea till now. Just like "Mary" is marijuana personified, as in the song "Along Comes Mary" by 60s pop group The Association. I'm glad to read that your experience so far has been positive; I hope it stays that way!

  • Blogger Brian Sorgatz left this comment at September 4, 2009 11:46 PM  
    Yes, I intended the “Molly” metaphor as a parallel to “Mary Jane.” As a writer, I’m flattered that you caught that.

  • Blogger kastz left this comment at September 22, 2009 5:07 PM  
    like the blog hows it goin?

  • Blogger Brian Sorgatz left this comment at September 23, 2009 3:24 PM  
    Thanks for asking. I’ll have another blog post pretty soon.

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