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This book, which covers Visions and hallucinations, explains what causes them and summarises how many hallucinations have been caused by each event or activity. It also provides specific help with questions people have asked us, such as ‘Is my medication giving me hallucinations?’.

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Observations placeholder

Into The Flood Ibogaine, iboga Total Aklaloid Extract by Xorkoth



Type of Spiritual Experience


A description of the experience

Into The Flood

Ibogaine, iboga Total Aklaloid Extract

by Xorkoth

Citation:   Xorkoth. "Into The Flood: An Experience with Ibogaine, iboga Total Aklaloid Extract (ID 103568)". Erowid.org. Jun 5, 2014. erowid.org/exp/103568


DOSE: T+ 0:00 100 mg oral Ibogaine (powder / crystals)
  T+ 1:00 550 mg oral Ibogaine (powder / crystals)
  T+ 1:00 500 mg oral Tabernanthe iboga (extract)
  T+ 1:30 300 mg oral Ibogaine (powder / crystals)



Into The Flood
A story about an ibogaine flood dose to combat long-term opiate addiction
by Xorkoth

I have begun writing this eight days after taking the ibogaine. What follows is a detailed retelling of the peak psychedelic experience and one of the peak general experiences of my life. I discovered a lot about myself and experienced the most powerful state of psychedelia and dissociation I could have possibly imagined. The experience was nothing like what I expected; it was basically the experience of dreaming whether awake or asleep for three and a half days straight on one long unending chain of vision quests that was difficult to say how it related to my life at the time, followed by an amazing and sometimes tumultuous after-period where the metabolites were coursing through my body. Ibogaine is now my favorite psychedelic and my favorite dissociative. Hopefully this experience can transmit to you some of what I gained and felt and experienced, and if you're considering doing this for the same reasons I did, there should be a lot of new information not available from other reports, particularly regarding doing it at home and some of the non-clinical aspects of the experience.

And either way, it should make a great story! But, fair warning, a very long one. I remember every detail of the whole thing and I feel it is important to communicate it all. This is more of a short story than a trip report.

Prologue and Pre-Trip

The state of my life has deteriorated more than I thought it ever would. A ten-year long opiate addiction, to kratom and then poppy tea, has wreaked more havoc than I could have imagined when I began my opiate usage. It was the largest contributing factor to the breakup of my twelve year relationship with my wife. My financial situation steadily grew more and more unstable, until recently I was forced to declare chapter 7 bankruptcy. My poly drug addiction had led me to consume just about anything, though opiates are the real destroying influence on my life. I suddenly find myself about to turn 31, with no partner and basically starting over, though I still own my house and have progressed in my career (I was always a highly functional addict). I am suddenly acutely aware of the press of time. In five years I hope I am with someone and we have a child, 36 would be about the latest I would want to start on that. But I have a long way to go before anyone will want that with me, and if I am a junkie, I have no right to bring a child into existence. I reached a point in the past couple of months where I said, I absolutely NEED to get past this, NOW, or else I will never become what I can and should and need to be, or have anything resembling the life I want.

So in talking with my friend Morninggloryseed, the idea of a flood dose of ibogaine came into play. Morninggloryseed had done a flood dose a year prior to this so he kind of became my coach for this whole thing, helped me plan it, and talked me through my mental preparations and extremely numerous questions. I had contemplated a flood dose before but the idea seemed too frightening and immense to actually do it or even seriously consider its reality. But four weeks ago, I felt strongly enough about it that I sourced some ibogaine and had it on its way. I ordered 1 gram of pure ibogaine HCl, and 1 gram of the total alkaloid extract which is 40-50% the strength of HCl, but which contains all of the plant alkaloids rather than just the ibogaine. I figured even if I didn't use it for a flood dose, I could experiment with lower dosages. And so I waited, that dreary painful wait when you're addicted to opiates, waiting to feel better, waiting to feel worse, waiting for the day when you can stop being weak and be the person you aren't sure you can be.

I began making preparations with my life. I asked a good friend, A, if he would sit for me the first night and day. I had discussed with a friend who said 24 hours should be enough, that then I'd be aware enough to be on my own. In retrospect this was dead wrong, but (much) more on that later. I tentatively told my friend to take off a Saturday in about three weeks, April 26th (totally coincidentally the month anniversary of my failed relationship which we always celebrated for all twelve years). That evening would be the big moment. I made an appointment to board my cats for four days since I wouldn't be able to take care of them. I began eating well, and trying to taper down opiates (without a lot of success). Through it all, I noticed a growing sense of sparkle and excitement in my daily life; the mere thought of such a dramatic event and expected conclusion to my addiction made me feel hopeful and also highly nervously excited. I began having better and better days. I can honestly say I have never prepared so well and so thoroughly for a trip in my entire life, and I believe this is completely necessary with an ibogaine flood dose.

At one week out, Saturday, April 19th, I decided to stop taking any opiates, as I had finally decided 100% that I was going through with this. I had hoped to detox more before taking the ibogaine, the reason being that people say it works better and is a much nicer and more vivid experience when you're not acutely physically addicted. I had intended on quitting 2 weeks prior, but it didn't work out. That last week before dosing, I felt this growing feeling, more than anticipation, it felt like it was the ibogaine reaching across time and pulling me slowly but inexorably in. Colors were brighter, and I had a giddy energy which affected my mood very positively. I only felt about 10% of normal opiate withdrawal that whole week, which is something I can't really explain. I am very familiar with how my body reacts to withdrawal and the time frames it does so in, and this was what it normally feels like in late 2nd week/early 3rd week of cold-turkey detox from poppy tea (which was my opiate of choice and current three-year addiction). I find it incredibly curious that this happened, but as I was about to find out, iboga is a massively powerful thing, so whatever the cause was I am not surprised anymore. I also found it nearly effortless to quit, and my mood remained positive at nearly all times. This was the easiest and most highly unusual detox I have ever had, though not 100% complete, as I still felt a bit of it when I took the ibogaine on the 26th.

Friday evening, the night before I took it, I was under a very interesting spell. I thought, I could die tomorrow from this ibogaine, in theory, I guess 0.2% of people have. The chance was slim, but I was very unhealthy at the time, though my heart checked out fine when I got it looked at pre-trip. Everything I did and experienced, I thought about how it could be my last time ever doing this. That night I brought my cats in to boarding, and I teared up thinking I might never see them again, my beloved kitties, nor they me. My head was buzzing with thoughts and deep introspection all day. I went over to my friend A's house, the one who was going to sit for me. We hung out with some other friends who live in the downstairs apartment, and I told them about what I was going to be doing and why, and we talked about it a lot, and about tripping in general. One of my friends told me he was jealous, and I told him not to be, that I was scared out of my mind! I had a very nice, relaxing night. But when I went outside, I looked up at the stars, and the thought that I might never see them again sent a searing jolt through my heart.

Saturday morning I woke up deep in an iboga anticipation trip. The energy coursing through me was incredible, and the fear had increased too. I reached a realization during that day, that nervousness and excitement are basically the same thing. I was butterflies-inducing amounts of scared for the whole day, but equally excited. I made preparations, cleaned my house, finished up some work so I would have very little when I got back (I had Sunday off and took vacation days for Monday and Tuesday), and spent a couple of hours up in the mountains overlooking the long view. I called my parents to talk to them 'one last time', and called my little brother to tell him I was going to do this. Being that my family is very aware of the extent of my addiction, and my brother is open to psychedelics and stuff, he was very supportive, which made me feel much calmer. I ate only fruit the whole day, but lots of it early on, as recommended by an iboga healing practitioner that Morninggloryseed is friends with. The idea is to make sure you have your nutrients and electrolytes and liquids, but to have an empty stomach by the time you take it.

I cleaned out my bowels as much as possible, which you are supposed to do because you can have your body stopped up for three days while you lay there in a trance and you want to be clear before that happens so you don't have any complications from being stopped up, and so you don't have to go during that time. I drank a lot of electrolyte drinks, lots of water, but stopped drinking any at all a few hours before because of not wanting to have to get up to pee while I am in space. As it grew to evening, I awaited my friend A's arrival. He was delayed but ended up arriving at about 7:00pm. He arrived and I was in a weird mood, it was kind of hard for me to hang out, but we smoked a bowl of cannabis to help me relax, which I was told was fine, as long as I wasn't actively high when I took the ibogaine, and talked about stuff. My stomach was churning constant butterflies with the anticipation. I reviewed the schedule I had painstakingly crafted with Morninggloryseed. I was going to take a 100mg ibogaine HCl starter dose at 9pm. Then at 10 I would take 550mg of HCl and 500mg of TA, the bulk of my total dose. Then at 10:30, I'd take 300mg more HCl, for a total of 950mg of HCl and 500mg of TA, or roughly 1100mg of HCl, which for me is 18mg/kg, a flood dose being considered between 17 and 25mg/kg.

So I took a bottom-level flood dose, but if you're reading this because you're considering taking a flood dose of ibogaine for addiction, I can attest that this dose of ibogaine was thousands of times stronger than anything else I've ever experienced. The level to which I was transported elsewhere was impossibly intense and utterly complete, I have never even imagined something could be as powerful as this. To me, 25mg/kg seems extremely excessive. But it may be my body chemistry.

At last the time for the starter dose arrived. I weighed out all three of my doses, which required a total of seven gel caps. I arranged them nicely on a plate, and arranged a platter of fruit for when I emerged. With reverence befitting what may be the world's most powerful spiritual medicine, I opened the gel cap and poured the chalky, slightly tan ibogaine HCl, 100mg of it, onto my tongue, and swallowed it with a bit of fruit juice, the minimum amount I could get away with since I wanted nothing in my bladder. It smelled like root bark, and tasted the same. At first the taste was chalky but then it turned sharply bitter. The TA is stronger tasting though. I sat down with my friend to wait, and we listened to some music, Bob Marley, a great choice for the happy state of mind he evokes. Within about 15 minutes, a smooth, wonderful sensation came over me, slight at first but slowly growing in strength, slightly entactogenic but in a dissociated way. Objects in my vision began to sparkle. At 40 minutes, I began seeing faint but long-lasting tracers when I moved my arms. I felt extremely physically pleasant, and the tiny amount of lingering opiate withdrawal feeling disappeared entirely. I found myself smiling a lot and was enjoying myself, but I almost didn't want to wait anymore and just take the next dose. But, I stuck to the plan and waited until 10:00 to take the big chunk.

Well, before long, it was that time. Every moment seeming dramatically long, followed by light tracers and filled with a slightly dissociated warmth, I gathered the speakers and my laptop and set them up in my bedroom, across from my bed, so I could play the Bwiti music through the trip (for the record, I was barely aware of it and the first time I came to after going out, it was off, and I preferred silence). I gathered my fruit platter and put it on my bedside table, as well as the plate of doses. I opened up the capsules for the second dose, the main dose, and poured them into my mouth. I wanted to taste iboga. I stayed downstairs to hang out with my friend until I felt it start to really kick in. About 15 minutes after taking it, I suddenly began buzzing strongly, literally an electric *BZZZZ* in my body and consciousness. I got up and stumbled up the stairs, suddenly feeling the intense need to be safely laying down in my sanctuary. I removed half of my clothes and got in my bed, and turned on the music.

The Flood

...And I close my eyes. Behind them lay a roiling, throbbing field of blackness, but the blackness is rapidly unlayering with shadowy strands, though I can detect no increase in brightness. The Bwiti music feels alien and a bit harsh, but also familiar somehow. I begin to feel a rocket propulsion from within me, shooting out in all directions. The feeling is overwhelming, but I am not frightened. The blackness and rocket buzzing grow, expand, and become everything.


I open my eyes with a start. My friend is in the doorway asking if I'm alright. I nod jerkily, my eyes wide. I'm laying on my bed; no, I'm in a pile of blankets on the floor, or maybe I'm on my bed. All around me the world is coming apart. Great, violent jolts of pink and white electricity crackle heavily in the creases between segments of my vision. The walls are utterly awash in blues and greens and reds. I have no ability to move. It dimly occurs to me that this is the most spectacular visual display I have ever witnessed. As I turn my head, my vision defracts entirely into long, thin bright white lines all extending far off to the right. Within a fraction of a second the lines begin to coalesce into endpoints of color and pull in closer from the right until they meet and form the image I see of my bedroom. The process takes about a second or so, and is accompanied by a strong sense of motion and a deep whooshing sort of sound, or perhaps more of an organic movement through liquid. There is a steady cacophony of strange electric buzzing, humming, and throbbing sounds; if you remember the game Super Castlevania 4 (or whatever the first SNES one is, it's been a long time), the main sound is very much like the sound of the jolts of electricity that Dracula makes and also the grim reaper at the end makes as it is coming into being. I figure it's the very end of the night, and perhaps 8 or 9 hours have passed, but I also realize that I have absolutely no memory of that time, just blackness. This brings me some measure of disappointment because I was expecting visions immediately. The level of intensity I am feeling is staggering, I am utterly consumed in this feeling and the only thoughts I am having are very quick, functional thoughts. My cerebral cortex is entirely consumed by the flood.


I am at a house party at night, hanging out with my friend Jerry Garcia and his band. A lot of people are over and it's a great party. I took some LSD earlier and I'm having a great trip. The walls are awash in visuals and I feel a serene sense of love. I have many conversations with the band and others. As the night wears on, sometimes the party is in the Manson family mansion, with them rather than the Dead, and that is also a great time with cool people, it was evidently before any type of weirdness was detected with them, obviously before the murders. That stuff is not in my mind at all. And then sometimes it's the Grateful Dead again. The changes are seamless, I have no awareness at the time of the scenario shifts.

At some point the party is over, and it's the wee hours of the morning. I leave the mansion, walk through the front gate, and the vibe outside is very creepy. I think about the occult practitioners who have been doing murders and sacrifices to bring evil into the world and I hasten my step, yet at the same time I am not too worried because I am able to practice psychic/magical powers as well and am pretty powerful. I meet up with a friend, a female Bluelighter who I know (in reality, this is not a real person). We have an attraction to each other and there is potential for a relationship, but not one yet. Needless to say, I really enjoy spending time with her. We walk together into a forest. This forest is utterly beautiful, with trees of glowing leaves and large, glowing blue mushrooms and glistening gemstone flowers. The whole forest is lit thus with ethereal light. There is a festival going on, a magical festival where people and creatures set up booths, selling equipment, curiosities, knowledge and employment. I begin talking to a creature who appears as a glowing Neverending Story dragon, though smaller than from the movie. He's very friendly and he gives me a lot of information about the workings of the occult practitioners.


I am in a van, and it's a dark night, ominously, cloyingly dark. Beside me is a new friend, a dark tanned guy with black hair and some ominous-looking facial piercings, also made of black-brown metal the color of dried blood. I had a good time with him at a party the night before, and he invited me over to his place the next night, this night. He picked me up a bit ago and we are headed to his place. We are in a residential neighborhood. Hulking shapes of trees and houses silently scroll by, barely able to emerge from the clinging night. I feel somewhat excited about a new friend, but there are things about him that make me nervous. I have a sneaking hunch that this is no friend.


I am sitting inside a dark studio apartment, at a table with my dark friend and two of his friends whom I am just meeting. One of these friends in particular makes my hair stand on end. He has long spiky hair and serpentine contact lenses. The way he looks at me, hungry, cold, snake-like, makes me shudder and look away; this he observes, I believe, with cruel delight. My companions are speaking, and it is as if there is something flanging the sound into unrecognizable voice distortions. I cannot make out what they are saying. I concentrate and eventually dismantle the barrier, and I can hear that they are talking about their dark plans with their newfound occult powers. I don't know anymore why I am here. A nervous feeling begins to grow in my solar plexus as I listen to their plans, which involve sacrifices in order to gain more power. They are reading from an ancient-looking tome that I had somehow missed before. Suddenly they all look up at me sharply and I know that they know I have dismantled their sound barrier. Nasty-looking smiles slowly spread across their faces and I shrink back.


I open my eyes, my bedroom enrobed in tendrils of plutonian night. I look at my cell phone which is laying beside me somehow. I see texts from people on the bright screen, texts that fill me with foreboding. Are these from my occult 'friends'? I don't recognize the numbers. I look around me, and clouds of white and black smoke seem to organically swim across the room. Electricity is still pouring out of the cracks in the facade of reality, great violent pink bursts that vibrate my body with their power. The back wall is open, revealing a swirling morass of... something. Whatever it is, it's bright and as I gaze at it, I begin to see that it is a portal to somewhere else. Shapes emerge, faint at first, and coalesce into a complete scene of someone, somewhere else, somewhere far away and alien to the world I am used to. When I turn in my head, it's gone, but if I turn back, shapes again emerge and coalesce into a different alien scene. Glancing again nervously at my phone, I lay back, hoping I can avoid the occult practitioners in the future.


I am standing in a beautiful forest clearing. The leaves on the tall trees glow with a brilliant green which gives off a soft blue mist. The light of the trees, diffused through the mist, provides a warm, moderately bright glow, while still being soft. I often go to the monthly festival that sets up here, where magical creatures of all kinds converge to sell and share their specialties. I have learned much in this forest.

In a moment, a woman walks into the clearing and gives me a big smile. It's someone I am very interested in romantically, and I think she is into me too. She walks up to me, still smiling, and throws her arms around me for a close, long hug. Her hair is right at my nose, and I inhale deeply; her scent intoxicates me. I of course hug her back as well. The shape of her body feels wonderful against mine. She backs up slightly, cocks a flirtatious eye at me, and suggests we go further into the woods, because she has something to show me. Sounds promising! I of course follow.

We walk deeper into the forest, and as we walk, side by side, I look around at the wonders surrounding me. Before long, I have never been so far in. As we go deeper in, the trees get taller and taller, and more exotic plants and animals begin to show themselves. Pink creatures similar to squirrels but with two tails that trail a light green mist scamper by. Orange, red and purple brilliantly glowing flowers attract butterflies that trail light from their wings like long glittery tracers. I see my attractive companion looking around in wonderment as well. Suddenly, a large flock of these butterflies bursts out from a glowing bush and rushes past near our faces, leaving a brilliant network of beautiful tracers and sparkling motes of silvery light. My companion is laughing in delight, and on impulse I grab her hand and hold it. She holds it back, smiling warmly at me. We look into each others' eyes, and the world stops for a moment as I am drawn deeply into her brilliant violet and blue irises, the most beautiful I have ever seen, hypnotizing, enveloping, wonderful and wondrous. After a moment we turn and keep walking, hand-in-hand, not speaking, just savoring the moment.

After some time we make it to another clearing, this one much smaller, but comfortably surrounded by a ring of massive trees bearing plump, juicy golden fruits. We walk to its center, and she takes both of my hands in hers and tells me to close my eyes. I do, and suddenly I feel a warm presence in my head, and my closed-eye vision erupts into colors. I realize I have left my body behind, I look down and see it still standing there, smiling, eyes closed; I turn my awareness forward, and see that this wonderful woman is with me, present as a brilliant magenta streak of light, intermingling with my green. We begin an intimate sharing of energy. It rushes through me and I interpret it as beautiful, complex shapes. For a timeless moment, we exchange our essences as these shapes, these beautiful geometric constructs. And after that moment, we descend back to our bodies.

I open my eyes, and find myself still staring into her eyes. Her lips are curved into a faint welcoming smile. I lean forward slowly, and ever so carefully place my lips against hers. She kisses me back, and I'm in ecstasy. Everything stops as we seem to merge into each other, the kiss growing ever stronger and more passionate. After a while, but far too short a time, she gently pulls away, smiling radiantly at me. She tells me she has to go get something. In a beautiful fog of emotion, I just smile and nod, and watch her walk away, beautiful, swaying, sensual. She looks over her shoulder at me and winks, and then fades out of sight into the trees.

After a few moments spent on long tangents of the possibilities of the future with this person I am suddenly and completely in love with, I come to and look around. Are the trees glowing a bit less brightly? Why are all of the animals gone? Suddenly the forest feels ominous. And now I am sure the light is fading, bit by bit, but more and more quickly. Fear ignites in my stomach. I look around wildly as the remaining light is strangled into submission. I feel a dark power as I see only blackness, and I mourn what is lost.


I'm in a van, driving slowly, quietly down the street in the enveloping darkness of a moonless night. A new friend of mine is driving. I don't know him much yet, but I'm hoping we can become real friends. We are creeping along a quiet residential road, big friendly trees lining each side with warm cookie-cutter houses and clean fresh driveways, but the night's embrace paints them with a desolate and cowering light. Something is nagging at me. Have I been here before? My companion is driving, but he is talking with me in a pleasant way. Still, something about this does not feel right. We float along, somehow making no sound at all, passing by houses that each look the same. It gives the effect that we are not going anywhere at all, that we're stuck on repeat.

All of a sudden we brake to a halt. The silence is claustrophobic. My companion tells me to follow him inside because we're going to meet a friend of his. That seems fine enough, yet right after saying that he pulls a black ski mask out of his side pocket and puts it on. Okay, now I definitely have a bad feeling about this. I am about to say that I have to be somewhere else and I'll walk when I see the glint of surgical steel, cold and sharp, in his exposed eyes, and I realize I am being forced to follow. His smile now seems cruel and mocking. We walk softly and quickly up the driveway and to the side door, where, after testing the knob and finding it locked, my captor mutters something, places his hand on the knob, and turns it, silently opening the door.

We creep through inky, terrifying blackness as I try to calm myself. Okay, we've just broken in, what does this guy intend to do? We continue to creep along, myself unable to see completely so trying desperately to keep up with my captor in an ironic jab from the universe. The silence continues to be complete, and I realize that so far the only sound I have heard at all is the sound of my occult practicing captor's voice. At last we reach the kitchen. I see a terrified man sitting at the table, shuddering with fear, cowering away as my captor closes in, a maniacal grin on his face. He gestures for me to sit right across from the poor man, and the same as I must obey, I cannot look away as he pulls a long-bladed knife from his belt and places it just under the man's heart. The knife glints coldly, providing the only light in the room. Now a whispering fills my awareness, a heavy, dark serpentine whispering of syllables that causes my stomach to flip. Slowly, excruciatingly, he pushes the blade all the way in to the hilt, as the man screams in agony, yet completely silently. As he struggles around the blade, my dark captor begins to chant in a full voice, louder and louder, the arcane syllables inspiring a horrible unclean feeling within me. As I watch, unable to turn away, the man's life escapes from his mouth as a brilliant blue mist which then turns red, brown, and finally, an inky black as the evil one sucks it into his own mouth and his eyes burst forth with a fiery light. He turns to grin wickedly at me and my heart screams out.


I open my eyes, and I am in my bedroom. It's the middle of the night, and my field of vision is awash with movement. I think back to what I had been doing last night, and I wonder how I could have gotten myself into that situation. Just thinking of it now makes my skin crawl and the feeling of being next to such a dark person fills me with a sense of foreboding. I hope I can gracefully avoid him in the future, as I don't want to be friends anymore, but I don't think he will let me escape. I check my cell phone once again for any messages from that beautiful woman, or from my dark captor, but there is nothing since my last response to her last text to me. Sighing, I lay back.


I am in a massive living room, with friends all around me. It's a Bluelight meetup! Everyone I know from Bluelight is here, and many of them are not human. One of the administrators is a large, glowing, fuzzy worm-like creature hanging from one of the huge chandeliers, but his face is human-like and it extends down to head level with everyone else. He is exceedingly friendly and wonderful, as is everyone else. We're all having a great time, and showing each other our magical abilities. Also, with magic, we are altering each others' consciousness, as a psychedelic would do only with more finesse. I am having many great one-on-one and group conversations, and many amazing mental and perceptual experiences, just having the time of my life.

At some point I go out back with some people, onto the back deck. It is built over a tremendous gorge. I peer down into the dizzying depths and it looks impossibly far down to the bottom. Across the gorge is almost too far to see. It's like the Grand Canyon's father. On the walls of the gorge, bands of brilliant colors stripe dramatically across the surface in layers, blues, purples, reds, pinks, yellows, greens... the greens are the most brilliant of all, glowing brightly and enshrouded in clouds of blue mist. The owner of the house comes out and tells me that the gorge is two miles deep. I would have been very nervous being out on that deck had it not been fastened with magic from the best talent available for that task.

I go back inside the house and continue this intellectual party. Many more conversations are had, all wonderful and stimulating. At some point, I notice that a couple of my friends are missing, and the mood in the party has shifted slightly downward. Rapidly, more and more people disappear, not into thin air, I just suddenly notice they are nowhere to be found anymore. And then, in the middle of my conversation with the wonderful worm-like administrator I look away to check the room, and when I look back he too has disappeared. I look around, and the house is empty, silent, dark. As I stand in confusion, the house becomes darker and darker. I am suddenly filled with an intense sense of foreboding. I can feel that something is going to happen. Nervously, I move to exit the house. I meet no resistance, so I walk out and get in my car. I turn it on and drive away. As I leave, I am feeling a nagging sense of loss, of deep loss, the kind of loss you feel when someone you care about is gone.


I am lying in my bed, clothes removed, covers in disarray. My friends A and E are in the doorway, asking me how I'm doing. I tell them I'm doing fine, a bit puzzled. Hadn't we just gotten back from a party? It appears to be nearly dark out, pale, cool twilight coming in at a sharp angle through the windows. In the next moment they are gone as if they had never been there. The idea of my real friends I just saw blends into the dreams I've been having, and I start to feel lonely. I start checking my cell phone, and I read through a text from one of my dream friends. The screen just contains a strange symbol, and I can't seem to recall what it means. A feeling of gentle sadness comes over me, derived from loneliness. Awash in wistful ambivalence, I decide to lay back; I suddenly remember that I had taken ibogaine, and that perhaps it was about to kick in. I do not immediately remember my iboga dreams and I am critically inebriated, unable to rise to my feet; fortunately I have not had to pee, nor do I now. I am so intoxicated by the alkaloids of the iboga plant that I am only partly aware of how intoxicated I am. As I slowly gaze around the bedroom in a stupor, I notice black and white wisps swimming through the air like smokey amoebas, as cool blues and whites wash across the walls. There are no large-scale perspective distortions, objects remain fixed, but reflections leap away from them in my vision. I glance at my cell phone, and I appear to have a message. I don't recognize the number, but it occurs to me that since last night I went to that magical Bluelighter gathering, that it's probably from one of my friends. But the text message contains only a strange symbol that I can't seem to wrap my mind around. It sparks a light sense of foreboding in my solar plexus. I send a text back, but as soon as I send it I forget what I sent. I lay back down, a bit shaken, and close my eyes.


I am walking down a dusty road, in a neighborhood of dirty brown ramshackle houses, next to a park of brown grass. I am searching for something. I won't know what it is until I see it though. It could be anything. I glance down at the glass jar on my belt, reassuring myself that it's there. It contains the objects of my searches. I stop for a moment and bring the jar up toward my face, unscrewing the cap. I inhale deeply from it; there is no scent but I get a heady rush, the only pleasure I get in this world at all. I peer at the objects inside the jar, the grain of sand, the metal fastener, the thumbtack, and the earring. I'm starting to get pretty high now!

People walk past me, some of them glancing weirdly at me or turning their noses up, why I am not sure. Others pass by me, their heads to the ground, seeming to be looking for something. Those people, I realize, are also clued into what I am, that there are objects around we must find, to alleviate the squalor we live in by making us feel better. It's not that I feel exactly GOOD, it's more of an edgy euphoric feeling that makes me feel slightly nervous, but it's better than waking up every day in a dormitory that is falling apart and spending all day trying to eat enough and not be seen by the occult overlords. Nevertheless, I feel paranoia around them. I am afraid they will steal my treasures. I feel that they look crazy and pathetic, but I know that I am not like them. Oh no, I've got it together; what I'm doing makes sense. Not like these poor lost souls.

I continue searching, walking into houses I know to be abandoned and derelict. I pull open drawers, open cabinets, avoid holes in the floor, occasionally avoid falling beams and weak floors, and walk slowly through each room, searching for something I will only know once I find it. I am malnourished and exhausted, as is nearly everyone - except the overlords of course - so this is very hard work, moving around all day. Many of my dorm mates barely do anything but lay in bed or sit in their chairs, reading a tattered book over and over or staring at the walls. The last time I ate was... I actually don't know. I trudge my way through the ramshackle town I inhabit, searching, always searching, a grimace on my face at the pain in my legs.

At last I reach the edge of town, and as my goal is not yet reached, I walk beyond it, through the sad, wilted trees and barren grasslands. After an hour or so, I reach a house. Slowly I approach, and walk around the perimeter, looking through the cracked and cratered windows for any sign of inhabitants. At length, I determine that there aren't any, and I carefully open the front door, which promptly falls off its hinges and breaks into two large pieces on the ground, startling me and causing me to look around wildly in paranoia in case another searcher heard it and decides to follow the sound. After a few moments, satisfied that I am still alone, I walk inside. It's an old farmhouse, in the middle stages of decay, the brown forest slowly overtaking it and the acid rains slowly dissolving the exposed wood. I search methodically, intensely, through each room, first on the ground floor. The home looks to have once been beautiful and I momentarily feel a little twinge of something around my heart, but I don't think much of it, it's just a sensation, albeit a foreign and unsettling one. I make it upstairs, and there, in the back bedroom, I freeze; I feel something pulling me in. I walk slowly but directly to a chest of drawers, and open the top drawer. There, calling out to me, is a tiny locket, in bright, burnished gold. I reverently pick it up and feel its energy. I put it in my jar. I feel better, right? Yes, I feel my hunger a bit less and I am slightly less tired. I'm sure of it. Definitely not placebo. Yes indeed. With adoration, I open my jar and gaze in. The locket looks perfect next to my other pretties, the prettiest pretty I could have imagined. Like it's meant to be. I am suddenly overtaken by a foreign thought, something so massive that it rocks me on my heels. And then it is gone. Must have been the hunger.


I wake up in my dormitory, greeted by the rotting ceiling beams as I always am. I painfully rise, though part of me wants to just stay in bed forever, I am so exhausted. But my endless mission to find my treasures and rise up out of this misery pulls me ever onward. I walk out of the building and out into the world, filled with hope at the new and fascinating item I just found the day before. So I search. And search. And search. All day goes by, me walking by random people on the streets, some of them repulsed by me (which I never understand), and some who I pull back from, eyeing them fiercely lest they steal my pretties. The day trudges on, and at last night falls and I collapse into a dreamless void, my day of searching entirely in vain.


I wake up in my dormitory, greeted by the rotting ceiling beams as I always am. I slowly rise, grimacing mightily at the ache, though a big part of me wants to just stay in bed forever, I am so, so exhausted. But my endless mission to find my treasures and rise up out of this misery pulls me ever onward. I walk out of the building and out into the world, hoping I can summon enough strength to continue. So I search. And search. And search. All day goes by, me walking by random people on the streets, some of them repulsed by me (which I kind of understand), and some who I pull back from defensively, eyeing them hesitantly lest they steal my pretties. The day trudges on and on, and at last night falls and I collapse into a dreamless void, my day of searching entirely, painfully in vain.


I wake up in my dormitory, greeted morosely by the rotting ceiling beams, as I always am. I rise in agony, all of my muscles exhausted and my insides burning with hunger, though most of me wants to just stay in bed forever, I am so obliterated. But my endless mission to find my treasures and rise up out of this misery pulls me ever onward. I walk out of the building and out into the world, nearly weeping as I think of the walking and searching I must do on this long, desperate day. So I search. And search. And search. All day goes by, me walking by random people on the streets, some of them repulsed by me (which I understand), and some who I glance at in terror, eyeing them pleadingly lest they steal my pretties. The day trudges on for an impossible length of time, every step agony, and at last, oh at last sweet, dark, terrifying night falls and I collapse into a dreamless void, my day of searching entirely, horrendously in vain, the success I had so many days ago a faint memory.


I am searching today in a new town, a town not so abandoned, with a college that a few people are attending. People I pass here also glance at me with disgust, but there are less searchers so I am pleased. Who knows what I might find in this fancy place; it's barely falling apart! I continue on my way, walking each road, taking each side road, until each dead-ends or I have criss-crossed them all, and then I move on, back to the main road for the next side road. It's labor-intensive and takes quite a while, but it's the only way to ensure I won't miss anything. There are far fewer abandoned houses here, but I creep through everyone's yard, careful not to alert them to my presence. A few times I am chased away, which I find to be entirely rude. Can't people just let a man search for his treasures?

Eventually I get to the entrance to the college building, a huge, ornately carved stone building to house all the parts of the college, truly the most massive and well-built structure I have ever seen. I cross the bridge and enter. Inside is a warren of hallways carved from rock, leading to various classrooms and libraries. As I begin to criss-cross the maze of hallways, suddenly I see a hunched, animalistic figure hobbling across the small bridge I am about to cross. At the sound of my footsteps he turns sharply and gazes straight into my soul with his yellow glowing eyes. In shock, I see that it is my friend willow11, from Bluelight. What has happened to him!? His skin is so wrinkled and darkened his face barely looks human anymore. He is much shorter due to an intense hunch; his hands almost reach the ground as he is standing. As I begin to ask him what happened, he speaks, in a thin, raspy voice, 'Beware the occult! And do not collect, it is how they control us!'

With that, he scampers off.


I wake up in my dormitory, greeted by the rotting ceiling beams as I always am. I begin to rise when my next-door neighbor in the dormitory pokes his head in and frantically tells me that there is an attack happening, the occult overlords are displeased again. I get up, suddenly possessed of energy. I run out the door, and get caught up in a flood of people running, running, running into the big room of the dormitory. We emerge into it, and I gaze up. The room is at least ten thousand square feet, and the ceiling is far, far above, much too far to see. Decrepit blocks of wood and stone hang in midair, and vines hang down from them. Without a second thought, I begin to climb a nearby vine, as many others do the same, while still others stay on the floor, terrified of what is happening. As I climb and begin to get some height, I see that great stones that are fiercely burning with enveloping flames are crashing occasionally through the walls, wreaking havoc as they destroy everything in their path, even shattering the floating stone and wood blocks they happen to hit. Whenever that happens, mostly far up above me still, all of the people climbing the vines attached to that block fall, screaming, to their sure deaths. Falling from such a height makes the continuation of life terribly unlikely.

I keep climbing, occasionally dodging debris. I periodically check that my treasure jar is still attached to my belt, and pull on it for strength when my arms get tired from the constant climbing. I don't know what is up there, but I know I must climb to it. I look down at some point and the people look like ants, yet still I can't see the ceiling, only smaller and smaller floating blocks with vines trailing down, with smaller and smaller people climbing them, making progress, giving up, being obliterated by fireballs. Now I am in the range of these fireballs, but, concentrating carefully, I manage to correctly guess which blocks they are going to hit.

Suddenly my jar slips out of my belt. NO!! In desperation I look down, hoping that everything I have in this life has not fallen to the floor far, far below, shattering into a million pieces or being collected by other searchers. With a powerful sense of relief, I see that it has fallen a very short distance to rest on the block I had just been to. All I have to do is climb back down to get it! Whew! I make my way down my current vine, and triumphantly retrieve my jar.

I look up for a moment and glance around, just in time to see a massive fireball slam into me and my block.


I open my eyes with a start. I am in my bedroom, laying in my bed, splayed out in a mess of tangled covers, and daylight is streaming in the windows, an early morning light, but brilliant and full of promise. The dreamscapes of the night before come back to me in pieces. I stretch all of my muscles and notice that I feel, well, really good. A bit heavy and uncoordinated, but good, just plain good. A smile materializes on my face and I get up, collect my clothes and put them on. Well, my daytime pajamas anyway, some cozy pajama pants and an old, plain t-shirt that is very comfortable. I get to the stairs and realize I need to be careful. As I walk unsteadily down them I think back to my night, my long, long night. Man, I am so glad that I'm not really there, that I don't have to stay there. That version of myself is so incredibly sad and tedious. At the bottom of the stairs I look around. My house looks normal; the visuals at this point consist of a brilliant hue to everything the sunlight touches, as if it is jeweled, and some light tracers. I walk around my house, looking for something. What was I supposed to find, and will I know it when I find it? I had been searching for something, but it doesn't quite come together and I become confused. I'm sure I'll recognize it when I see it. Eventually I sit down on the couch and close my eyes to think.


I am in a brown, frayed railroad town. I grew up here and I know most everyone. Despite the poverty, people here are pretty happy because we have each other. I'm walking along the tracks, whistling, the tiny downtown directly to my right, maybe a hundred yards. I am on my way to meet up with my somewhat older friends. They're an old cockney couple, constantly bickering but in a good-natured way, like Punch and Judy. I look all around me, taking in, as always, the dusty, brown surroundings. The buildings of the town are run down, but each house contains bright, happy decorations, done to the best of the ability of its inhabitants. Children run and laugh through the streets, and I smile. I keep walking, whistling brightly to myself, excited that I am going to get to spend some time with my friends.

After five or ten minutes I arrive. I knock on the door and they answer with big smiles and hugs. I come in and we get to talking. I observe the way they interact with each other with fond amusement. To an outsider it looks like they hate each other, but it's just their game, and they are wonderfully close. They are both very overweight and slobby-looking, but it's just part of who they are. The woman asks me if I am aware that the festival is almost here. I tell her that I had forgotten, is it here already? Then she tells me about the festival. Hordes of people come in to celebrate in the streets at the height of summer every year. Much revelry is had, and this year the local head shops have amassed a huge supply of these packets of drugs. When taken in small quantities, they provide a faint sense of relaxation and calm, but when taken in large amounts, the user becomes utterly inebriated, full of joy, and is no longer under much control of their own actions and speech. We shake our heads; it seems like a stupid thing to do. The head shops have said that they will be giving as much away as anyone wants for free, in honor of the festival. We all three agree that this doesn't bode well for the festival, having hordes of people unable to control themselves and highly intoxicated. Our conversation turns to other things, but the special festival drugs stick in my mind, and I worry lightly for the rest of the day.


I open my eyes and find myself sitting on my couch in the living room, and the furniture is in its old arrangement from a couple of years ago, though the difference does not occur to me. Warm, golden sunlight streams in through the double french doors behind me, illuminating me with warmth and celestial light. I check the clock; it's about 9:30am. I seem to be drawn powerfully outside by the sublime beauty of my mountain cove, so I oblige my desires and step outside onto the back deck. Gorgeous sunlight filters through leaves to caress my skin and cast the world in its cheery morning brilliance. I spend some time just standing there, looking up, letting the warmth fall on my face and admiring my yard. Then I walk down to the top of the driveway and admire my beautiful natural mountain spring that I landscaped two years ago with forest ferns, rich soil and river rocks. Then the thought occurs to me to check my mail, as it has been a few days since I've done that.

I walk slowly down the driveway, beaming at the world with my beautiful energy and feelings. Once I get to the bottom of the driveway, my across the street neighbor drives by me in his car and pulls into his driveway. He and I talk whenever we encounter each other, and I'd like to get to know him better, we're about the same age and he seems really cool, but I think he may not do drugs, it's hard to tell. He also has a girlfriend, or maybe wife, who seems very shy. Anyway, the thought suddenly infuses my mind that I would love to talk to him about my ibogaine experience. Once in the recent past I told him I was struggling with opiate addiction, so it only seems logical to me in the moment to go and share my joy with him at being cured and experiencing one of the most amazing things I've ever experienced. I do hesitate however, some part of my mind telling me that this may not be a good idea. In the time it takes me to hesitate, he grabs the groceries from his car and walks inside. Oh well, I guess I've missed my chance. I resolve to talk to him about it if I see him come outside again.

I make it the rest of the way to the mailbox and check inside... some random junk mail, that's it. I turn and immediately forget all about it as I gaze up at the place where the two ridges that form the cove I live in meet up, far above. I really do live in paradise for Spring, Summer and Fall here. My heart swells with love, and I start to head back to the house.


I stand up from my computer chair and decide that I want to see what these special festival drugs are about after all. So I decide to drive to the local head shops and ask them if their special festival drugs are in, and if my friend is right, they'll have plenty of packets for free. I gather my phone, wallet and car keys, and head outside into the beautiful late-afternoon day, early evening really, about 6:00pm it feels like, though I don't bother checking my phone. Something is nagging at me that it's not a good idea to go do this, but I pay it no attention and walk down to my car, unlock it, and get in. I do my standard checks for my wallet and phone, and turn it on, relishing in the feeling of the engine's thrum through my body. I open my window and stick my head out and look behind, which is necessary because my driveway is narrow and steep and you can't see anything through the mirrors. I undo the parking brake, press in the clutch, and put it in first gear so that I am in the gear I need once I finish letting gravity roll me out of the driveway. Same as always. I carefully, and dare I say skillfully, maneuver down the driveway, cut the wheel sharply left at the bottom so my back end goes right, and steer backwards for a moment to land myself facing the downslope of the street, the way I need to be going.


I am driving down the main commercial street in my end of town, heading towards the downtown head shop. The one I usually use is closer, but I feel a bit embarrassed to be going in and asking for free special festival drugs. So I opt for the downtown one that I never go to. I'm looking forward to seeing what this experience is like. It should be interesting to go see my old cockney friends tonight, but I wonder if they'll disapprove. I think back to some of the other dreams I've had in the past few days. I shake my head, wondering at how I had believed they were real at the time when they were so clearly dream visions. I pass under the underpass leading into downtown, the mid-evening sun just about to pass below my line of sight.


I'm driving back under the underpass heading out of downtown. It's nearly dark out, mid-twilight. I wonder if I accomplished my goal? I can't really recall; that's odd. Right? It's at this moment that I remember the ibogaine. Oh my god, wait a second, the 'special festival drugs' aren't even real! I hope I didn't actually walk into that head shop asking for them! And then another thought hits me: I'm driving... police! I get nervous and look all around, though the light is getting quite dim. I don't see any cop cars, but I realize I need to be extra careful, and that this was, indeed, a bad idea.

I drive along, at the speed limit, not making any sudden moves. I pass the same storefronts, though something seems a bit different about them. Then I see my usual head shop, and I think to myself, wait, maybe I can get some of those festival drugs after all!

** Disclaimer: Driving while intoxicated is a terrible idea and I do not condone it. Due to the time constraints required to drive to where my memory tells me I was, and the fact that my two surrounding real-world memories take place less than a half hour apart, and due to the fact that in my memory this took place in the evening, and my usual head shop looked different and was standing alone, I do not believe I really drove, but that this too was a dream, albeit a very realistic and detailed dream. Still, this should serve as another lesson to you that one needs a constant sitter for at least three days when taking an ibogaine flood dose. I COULD have driven, and I may actually have, I will probably never know for sure **


I am in my kitchen, and I realize, while eating fruit, that my stove has gotten messy. Fruit juice is dried all over it, there are crumbs everywhere, and too many things are out. I decide to straighten up the stove/counter area. As I go to grab a paper towel and some cleaning spray, I suddenly realize I am on the set of a game show!

'You have chosen the paper towel and cleaning spray! Are these your final choices??'

'Yes, they are'

'Now remember that you only get one steel wool pad save! On your mark... get set... Clean That Stove!!'

As I spray the counter and stovetop initially, the crowd goes wild. My adrenaline pumping, I wait the requisite fifteen seconds for the spray to have really gotten in there, and then begin wiping furiously with my paper towel. Making record time, I grab another paper towel to finish the task. Sweat beads my brow but my adrenaline is coursing powerfully. I'm gonna to do it! I'm gonna Clean That Stove!!

But wait, an encrusted spot? I pick at it and scrub with the paper towel, but it won't budge. I panic momentarily, but then I remember I have a steel wool pad save to use. So I grab one from the box under the sink, to the appreciative roars of the crowd and exclamation from the host. I rush back and scrub it, once, twice, thrice. It comes clean off, and I grab one more paper towel and wipe off the last of the soapy residue. I did it! I won!!


I am in the dusty railroad town. It's mid-evening and I am on my way to the middle-aged cockney couples' house to get together with them for dinner. I arrive and knock on the door, and the visibly distraught man answers. Wild-eyed, he tells me that his wife was kidnapped! Some robed men came, waved their hand to immobilize him, and took her! He wails that the overlords have taken his love. Tears falling down my face, I swear to him that I will find and rescue her.

I walk away, my mind reeling. What can I, a poor young man, do against the overlords? Suddenly I know my first step: I call my friend egor from Bluelight. He answers and I explain the situation breathlessly, and, bless his heart, he agrees to help. But he says that due to the huge crowds here because of the festival, and their out of control behavior due to the festival drugs extravaganza, that he is holed up in his house and he can't get out without my help. And he also tells me that the occult overlords are watching everything through the eyes of the revelers who are lost in the festival drugs.

I carefully make my way through the crowds, making sure to appear out of my mind and euphoric, to blend in. Eventually I make it to the edge of town, where egor's house is. At this point there aren't many people around, so I take care to actually hide. I use the bushes to cover me, stealthily creeping closer and closer. Many times I have to pause and hold my breath while waiting for someone to pass. Eventually I make it to egor's place, and creep to the back door. He comes to it and together we focus our energies and mute our sounds and put up a partial light defraction cloak, making it much harder to see us and impossible to hear us. Alone, most people don't have enough power to do anything major, but together, the two of us can accomplish a few things.

We set off further out of town, toward a remote country house that we somehow know the woman is being held at. Steady streams of intoxicated festival-goers pass along our path, so we make slow and careful progress, never taking a step unless we are sure we can get away with it. We use the bushes and trees as much as possible, but occasionally we are forced to simply freeze and concentrate extra hard on our partial invisibility cloak as people pass by. But no one's gaze ever fixes on us. I know that if it does, we will be discovered, as the overlords can read minds.

After a long while of careful creeping and tense moments, we clear a crest of a hill and see the small cottage below. Suddenly there are no more revelers. Still creeping along, we head down the hill, test the doorknob and find it unlocked. The woman is cowering the corner, but as soon as she sees it's us she cries out in joy and nearly crushes us with her embrace, tears streaming down her face.

Now, to escape with an additional person who has no powers...


I'm in the kitchen, eating fruit, a delicious, juicy pear, a perfectly ripe banana. It's been sitting out for days now and has ripened nicely, as I had hoped. Eating the fruit is like the first time eating fruit, and the incredible flavor overwhelms me. I realize I am simply radiating with euphoria, and the feeling in my body is like heaven. I feel plenty of energy but also very relaxed. The light pouring through the numerous kitchen windows is like a crystalline web, bathing the entire world in radiant color. I suddenly feel pretty with it, and a bunch of the dreams I had start to come back to me, and I realize just now how far out I have been for the past few days. I decide to get online, and notice it's just before 10am. I go to Bluelight and read some threads, though I don't internalize any of it. I head to the PD Social thread and make a post. I notice it is very difficult to type, but I work slowly and I feel that I do an alright job (I later came to find out that it was entirely illegible and had some people worried).

At this point I notice that my computer and browser seem to be really glitchy, almost like I've caught a virus. I struggle through it for a bit, and suddenly notice that there is a tab open that says occult. I try to close the browser, but it won't close. It won't navigate. It starts to pixelate. So I open a different browser and that one works a bit better, though I am creeped out. So the occult practitioners are at it again, eh? A sense of foreboding overtakes me as my mind begins to scatter and I spend an indeterminable amount of time consumed by recall of many of my visions from the previous two nights, in much more detail than I have remembered thus far.

At some point I look at the clock, and then glance at my work email...


Oh my god, it's Wednesday (no, relax it's Monday, no wait, shit it's Wednesday! So much has happened, it HAS to be Wednesday!). I have to be back at work! It's 2:30pm (where the hell did the time go??) and I have missed a whole half day, and there is an issue with one of my studies! I'm gonna really be in trouble! Frantically I attempt to log in to the software we use that the study is programmed in. I can't log in. In panic, I try again; same result, invalid password. Mustering my focus, I sit there and slowly press one key at a time for the password, careful to press the right keys, and I am positive I did it right. Still, I can't login. Overwhelming feelings of panic start to wash over me. I am starting to feel like I have broken my brain, nothing is working, I can't make anything happen reliably in the real world. Five days have gone by, I say to myself with dread, I should be able to function by now! I start to think I need to talk to someone to get a handle on reality. I try to use my phone to call my little brother, who knows

The source of the experience


Concepts, symbols and science items

Science Items

Poppy tea

Activities and commonsteps