Date: Fri, 15 Oct 1999 08:50:53 EDT
From: Fish <Fish@thuntek.net>
To: Multiple recipients of list <ibogaine@ibogaine.org>
Subject: ibogaine account
This account was given to me by a friend. It was given to me over a
month ago now and my friend only recently decided to let me post it to
the ibogaine list. If you respond to the list, I will be sure my friend
gets the responses.
I have been pondering and hesitating for more than a week, about
what I would write about my ibogaine experience. It became a
complicated, maybe even embarrassing story. I decided to tell nearly all
I can remember. It all started more than two weeks ago now. I will do
my best to be as honest as possible, first I thought to tell you just my
story, but since things influence each other, I have to tell you about
some related events. I still do not know, if I acted in the right way,
maybe you people can give me more clarity.
We, that is my wife, three friends and my brother had the
opportunity to get ibogaine and take it with an experienced guide. The
guide just watched over the initiate, took care in case of vomiting, and
helped with going to the toilet. And generally made sure everything was
ok.
There was no ritual or anything like that. We happen to live in a bit
isolated spot and decided to do this at our home, we took it one after
another over the course of a week. My wife was the first one to take it
on a monday. I was second and took 15 mg/kg body weight on thursday
night. We stayed sober for 12 hours before and drank in that time as
little as possible. After I took it, I waited maybe 15 minutes and went
to lay down on a bed, in a room prepared for this (dark, also by day),
quite soon I felt the ibogaine taking effect. We had all had some
experience with it before. Previously we had some of the root bark and
experimented with small amounts (2gr). A few month ago I took a bigger
amount as an enema, which resulted in a long, and intense experience,
without any stomachtrouble/vomitting. I soon realized that this was
going to be a much stronger experience than even that had been. It was
like falling into it, my body seemed in the distance, it could not
really bother me. My mind went with an incredible speed through
uncountable visions. I was told before not to try to hold on to any
visions, but I soon understood this would have been impossible anyway. I
just let go, even enjoyed the traveling through the landscapes of my
mind/memory, it could be compared with embarking on a spaceship and
travel through known and unknown spaces. This
lasted about six hours, before I landed. I had to go to the toilet then.
When I walked to the toilet, I did have a little trouble with my
balance, but managed to make it and return to the bed without too much
difficulty.
The movements made me vomit a bit. Strange enough there were hardly
any memories. I laid down again, still high. I stayed on the bed,
digesting what had happened, feeling elevated, impressed, not tired, no
hunger, thirst, actually no need for anything, just contentment. This
mood lasted for days. I started eating a little the second day, but the
first days I ate just because I have to eat to stay well, I am a skinny
man, with little reserves and do feel dizzy after not eating for only a
day. I did not notice any weakness, even though I ate so little. Usually
I do smoke some hash everyday. I don't feel it is an addiction for me
and I have no intention of stopping. Cannabis is my favorite plant ally,
already for 25 years on the road with me. It is the warm coat in an
often cold world for me.
After the ibogaine, I didn't smoke for days, just no need, even no
interest. Durring the next few days, a few memories of the first six
hours popped up in unexpected moments, that seemed not to have any
connection to the memories, like when I was in the bath or in the
car. I remembered having talked to my father, although he is dead
for more than 25 years. I am from an orthodox protestant family and
having a liberal and inquisitive mind beginning from a young age, I
never could deal with him. I ran away from home at the age of 17,
promising myself never to go back there and be independent from then on.
He suddenly died after 2 years, which made my "never" more definite
than I could expect myself. I only know my father in a hierarchical
setting, but the ibogaine time I met him and we talk like equals, I
don't remember the words, but do remember the feeling of it. It was even
friendly, like me saying, "You see! What was all the fuss about, look
here on this plane, we can both see the same truth." He agreed and his
rigid attitude of the past seemed of no importance. We felt equal, for
the first time in my life.
Another memory: I saw two very dark eyes, unusually dark eyes. First
only eyes, than a face shaped around them. Suddenly I knew these were
the eyes of my sister, also her face, although the face was white, like
powdered white and seemed like that of a 12/14 year old. Again I have to
explain this a little. I was born, one of a twin, we were numbers 5 and
6. My parents didn't expect twins. Only after my brother was born, there
happened to be another one. my mother took care of my brother and my
sister, then 10 years old, the one with the eyes, took care of me, which
caused a strong bond between us. I care more for her, than for my
mother. It surprised me to see her face of so many years back, I did not
know it was still in my mind.
I also do remember a vision, in which I got a view of valley of the
Ganges, in the foothills of the Himalayan. It was a view like a bird
would get. I know that valley well, it looked like it is. Higher up in
the valley the landscape changed into unknown, unreal hilly landscape.
The earth seemed to have an orange glow, a glow I remember which was
there on other moments during the iboga event. A glow, like coals in the
dark, I remember there was a lot of dark colors in the visions, I had an
idea that this was caused by being in a dark room. The darkness had no
threat in it. There was a moment when I felt/saw my body, not very
clear, as a black shadow in a dark, brownish, glowing space. There was a
huge being standing next to me, his gown looked most like that of a monk
of the middle ages, with a dark pink/purple color. A piece of his dress
was worn as a cap and hid his face. Where the face should have been, I
noticed dark emptiness, or is it the shadow of the cap, that hides the
face, I wonder. Although there is no face, I feel distinctly a
presence, first I felt a bit scared by this silent giant, that was
watching me. I felt like I was being measured, judged. Than there came a
feeling of soft compassion from him, and I was no longer scared. I got a
feeling this being was fair and I felt a little relieved. I don't know
who it was. Now that I look back on him, he reminds me of the hermit, a
tarot card I once saw, that is all I can say about him, the only
association that comes up, maybe it has nothing to do with it.
With this vision there were beings, animal like, sometimes bat like
creatures passing by, in the corners of my eye. I think I had that
feeling of beings passing more often, but can't remember it. The only
other image I could remember were the faces of men, with a dark
complexion, I couldn't figure out where they were from, but I thought
maybe a bit like inca's, or south/east asia or maybe an unknown race. I
had a feeling as if i could look straight
through my eyelids. It seemed so real that I even checked it out. At one
point I saw telephones next to me, I opened my eyes to see them, but no
phones. Still the impression of seeing through my eyelids persisted, I
seemed to see the room with my eyes closed.
This is about all I remember of these first hours. By early morning
the fastness and overwhelmingness of the inner visions slowed down.
Although it was so overwhelming, it seemed to me that I was on two
planes. The one of the visions, the "other" world, and the ordinary
daily world. I could think and talk like normal on the ordinary plane,
wile in the background, the other world was still there. And as soon as
I closed my eyes, the focus of my attention would effortlessly go to the
"other" world. Slowly my attention stayed more and more in the ordinary
world. A seemingly absurd thought came to my mind; it seemed to me that
cause and effect don't have to follow each other in the ordinary order
(first the cause, than the effect). Could an effect take place before
its cause? When I took iboga root powder I got a related thought/sense;
maybe time and space are not as real as we usually assume, in which case
indeed an effect can take place before the cause.
From the following morning up to now, I feel like I have been
mentally rearranged in a thorough way, but I can't remember and can't
put my finger on the cause. Here is an effect of which the cause in not
knowable for me, I am so curious what has happened.
At 12 o'clock on the following morning, I had to watch my youngest
son, who was playing outside. Our house is surrounded by water and he is
nearly two years old, so we have to keep him out of the water. It was a
sunny day and when I walked out, it was too bright for me, I couldn't
look without protecting my eyes with my hands. I went back in after
about a half hour and laid down in the dark room on the bed. I stayed
their most of the time till the next
morning. I could hardly sleep that night, it didn't bother me, I felt
content and digested the past time. It is now more than 14 days since
and still I feel something unexplainable, maybe like my point of view
has shifted.
For the next week I got up in the morning in an excellent mood,
bright and energetic, even though things around me were not so easy. The
next day a friend of ours took the ibogaine. On Saturday my brother was
going to take it. He is a full-blown junkie (heroin addict). He has
followed the classic addict road to ruin. Gone to different institutions
to break the addiction, stayed clean for a while just to start it all
over again. He has lost his house, his family, his possessions and his
self-respect along the road. I hoped this would help him out. He arrived
on Friday night and finished his last bit of smack (so he told us). We
warned him about the danger of taking smack in combination with
ibogaine. He was to take the ibogaine in the morning, as soon as the
first withdrawal effects started to show. By nine o'clock I went to see
him. He was sound asleep and he looked bad, very skinny, like he was
from a concentration camp. I woke him and asked him what he wanted. He
said he wanted to sleep for a few more hours, so I left him and went
back after a few hours. He was still sleepy. We asked him why there
were no signs of withdrawal and he said that in his case it sometimes
took 24 hours. We were surprised and he said that that surprised others
also. So we decided to wait till the next morning. He spent the rest of
the day and night sleeping in a caravan that I had prepared for him. On
Sunday morning there was still no withdrawal, so we waited a while more.
Then there seemed to be the first signs of withdrawal. This was 31
hours after his last dose of heroin, or so he told us. He took the
ibogaine. We had doubts about his weight, we thought it was probably
less than what he told us and decided to give him 18 mg/kg instead of
22. If necessary he could take a little more later. He went to the bed
and strange enough went to sleep again. He kept sleeping for maybe two
hours, than our guide called me, "your brother is breathing strangely!"
I could hear from his voice something seemed seriously wrong. I ran to
the room and found my brother moaning, with a deep animal like sound,
his body was stretched and stiff, eyes wide open, pupils fixed, very
pale lips. His breathing stopped or became unnoticeable, heartbeat the
same. Thank God, I am a nurse and knew at least something to do.
Thoughts ran through my mind, Was he dying? What to do? What will
this cause?
I tried to revive him, but the first attempt seemed of no help. I
tried again and this time he started breathing by himself, He came back
to his senses and wondered what happened, He did not believe something
happened, we told him we were going to call a doctor, which he thought
was nonsense "I am all right, nothing wrong with me" he exclaimed. He
went back to sleep and we saw the same thing repeating itself. I slapped
him in the face to keep him awake, which helped. This kept happening
every now and then, although not as deep and scary as the first time.
Every time I slapped him awake, not a thought over action, more an
impulse, but it worked. My wife said I was to rough with him. We
decided it was too dangerous to keep him home and called a doctor. He
sent us to the hospital, where they just checked his blood pressure and
the oxygen in the blood.
They gave us another address to go to. I called them first, but they
could not do anything, and gave us another number. I called this number
and they told us to call our own doctor again, which is where we
started. We gave up, took him home again. Junkies were clearly not very
popular. We called our doctor again, he went calling also but could not
get any help either. So he came over and we talked it over. He called
an specialist who prescribed methadone. All this was on Sunday
evening/night. I didn't tell the doctor or hospital about the ibogaine,
and I still don't know if that was wise of me. I understood ibogaine
wasn't dangerous by itself and was afraid if things went wrong it might
harm the whole ibogaine thing.
My first thought was that all this trouble was caused by his weak
condition, or that his
chemical balance might be disturbed, just malnutrition. Later I mailed
the story to a friend on the net, who suggested he might have used
heroin shortly before the ibogaine, which seems more and more likley to
have been the case to me. It took me hours to get the methadone, and by
the time I came home it was 2'o clock at night, and since he seemed to
be doing better, we never did give him the methadone.
The breathing problems were less serious and his body seemed to be
handling. In between he slept, unaware of the breath problems. He said
there were no hallucinations, insisted the ibogaine did not work at all.
He seemed to have lost all decorum, during the attacks he sometimes let
everything go (bowels and bladder), but hardly troubled to get clean
again. I had to force him to change his clothing. Later he started
vomiting, unbelievable amounts for someone who had been sober for such a
long time, all liquid. This vomiting lasted for three days. The first
night I kept him in my sleeping room, to keep an eye on him. Monday
morning I shifted him back to the caravan. By this time I felt worn-out.
We started to give him food and drinks, vitamin pills etc... to improve
his condition. We have a big family and with him dirtying everything,
the washing machine worked full-time. It was more or less like having a
huge baby around. All he did the next days was sleep. On Tuesday he
suddenly appeared in the living room and told us he was going to work
the next day. He has a job in a hospital, and has a 14 day holiday, he
just promised to work one morning. He wanted me to take him to the train
station, this seemed ridicules to me. I told him he couldn't work in
this condition and that I wouldn't take him anywhere. He got angry and
said he would leave anyway. I called the hospital, explained the
situation (I worked there also, and know the people, they also know his
problem). Very nice people, even though they knew about his problems,
they offered him a job and even arranged a house for him, this was when
he was clean after an unfinished therapy. I gave my brother the phone,
he talked with them, they told him to get better, and that he could stay
away till then (with payment) and come back then. Maybe this was too
much intervention on my part. He got angry and left walking. I expected
him to collapse on the road, it is about 4 km walk to the station. I
though that might even be good, someone would
find him and than they would have to take him into a hospital. I was
worn-out and left it like this.
The last month before the ibogaine experience he did not open his
door for anyone. I gave him a prepaid cellular, to be able to stay in
touch with him and to prepare for the ibogaine session. But he also
didn't answer the phone.
So fter a day we tried to call him, a friend went to his house, but
no answer, seemed he went back to his old habits. Then on Friday
afternoon he came walking into my office in the town where he lives
also. He looked like the psychiatric problems we see on the streets
here, two different indoor shoes, his elbows and ankles wounded, like he
had been falling. He said he lost track and only came to his senses this
morning, it was clear to me that his senses still were not ok. He often
asked the same questions. Coincidentally the other friends that took the
ibogaine were their also, and they asked him things also. He said it
was the most impressing week in his life. He also claimed not to have
used anything this week, not even
had the intention or need to take something. I asked him if he had money
and he showed me quite a bit, which I thought was a good sign. One of
the people there got a bit cross with him, and asked him how he could
walk in like nothing had happened? "You used your brother and now you
behave like this?" he said. My brother claimed he had no memory at all,
what did he do wrong? I reminded him about something that happened long
before the session. An incident where he was loaned the use of a house
of a man that was a bit angry with him now. At that time he had sold
the furniture, tv etc... although he got use of the furnished house for
free. Again he claimed not to remember it. I don't know what to believe
now.
Another week has passed since, I have not seen him again, I went to
his house and called him by phone, all no use.
This is my story, I do not know if I did the right thing. Maybe I
wanted too much for him to be healed. Should I have talked about the
ibogaine to the doctor? Should I have dealt with him more softly? Was it
ok to call the hospital where he works or was that to much interference
with his private life?
All together, I am impressed by ibogaine, never met a drug like
this, so powerful, benign, healing. There are moment when I feel bigger,
stronger. But the incident with my brother scared me.