The Ibogaine Dossier
The Ibogaine Dossier

NYU Conference on Ibogaine Nov 5-6, 1999

iboga fruit
variety iboga fruit

Main | Search | Science | Opinion | Literature | Links | Treatment | Bookshop | Feedback
The Ibogaine Dossier

Who wants to be a junkie?

A wonderful discription of ibogaine and other effects and adventures over time by a great story teller. These texts originally appeared as posts to the Mindvox ibogaine list. Read and enjoy and then join the ibogaine lists.

In a message dated 5/12/02 7:49:01 PM

>>Heroin serves as an extremely strong reminder, that there simply is
>>nothing in consensual reality, that gets as good as heroin.

In a message dated 5/12/02 8:27:24 PM

>How about after ibogaine? Not ibogaine itself though that is sure as hell
>interesting but, some days later when there is no real action but, a general
>level of comfort. And, one can say ibogaine doesn't last but, neither does
>your last shot of heroin.

In a message dated 5/12/02 9:33:25 PM

Uhm, see here is where I personally totally diverge from the "and I just didn't feel like doing heroin anymore after ibogaine," crowd... The answer would be a resounding: nope.

When I came back down, what utterly amazed me and just blew my mind, was the fact that I wasn't sick, my habit was gone, IT WORKED! This gave me enough willpower to continue with my original plans (i.e., NOT shooting up afterwards).

But me, coming off heroin, with ibogaine, amounts to: okay, I'm clean, and right now I have a VERY vivid recollection of just why I shoot dope in the first place. I can't withstand all this shit that's coming down inside my head, I cannot sustain this, I need heroin, I hafta get numb or I will go crazy. To cop a line from Trent Reznor, "I'm broken, it wants me dead, goddamn this noise inside my head."

I had no, "food tastes great, the sky is blue, the clouds are fluffy, I'm so happy!" stage. And i've seen my bloodwork, I had a whole lotta nor onboard, I tripped my ass off, I got hit with the highest levels of ibogaine HCl within reasonable bounds for my size...

What helped me hold it together through a very hard time after my last shot of dope, last dose of ibogaine; was a combination of things. First of all, I met this chick on the island while we were there. And she hung out with me, and we dosed together sorta by mutual choice... And going in she had a really shit time -- which is pretty common for chicks -- and was literally yelling, screaming, crying, and I was just gliding in and watching her and waiting for her head to start spinning around -- which didn't happen, but mahn did she ever throw up a lot... But anyway, so we sorta touched base at the start, then went off, and coming down, it was the exact reverse: I was getting killed, wandering through hell, and dying, yet again... And she was giggling and bouncing around, and, "look! Little toy spaceships! Wheeeeee, let's go rush down the tubes again.... I love the tubes, aren't they fun!" And I just got pulled into her headspace, and started laughing, and it was all-good.

After getting off the island, I was totally freaking out, asked for naltrexone, because I knew myself, and was pretty sure exactly where I'd end up given 24 hours at most. And I ate the shit... triple the 50mg a day which was suggested, so I absolutely knew that if I shot enough dope to overload the receptor blockade, I would also OD and simply die, since I had just done ibogaine and was pretty much reset...

And... So that's what I did... But in addition to that, as so often seems to happen to me, I just fell into some parallel universe, wound up bouncing out of some rehab within 6 hours -- where Deborah wanted to park me for 2 weeks before I went to Thailand, and into this chick's house... "Hi mommy! Look what I found in detox! Isn't it great?!?!?!? He's coming to live in my room!"

And that was hysterical... I was busy having a very good time, hanging out with this girl, living in a really beautiful condo, getting driven around wherever I wanted to go, and then her mom -- who was a total sweetheart and uhm, dealt with things I think better than most saints would have -- used to make us breakfast, bring it into her room while we were in bed, and then hand us a bible attempting to save us both; pulling me aside and asking me to be a positive influence on her daughter....

Uhm... okay. Sure, why yes. I'll do my very best!

And uhm, so I was busy... Then I went to Thailand -- which is a whole other story, but amounts to: nobody was left who knew what the hell to do with me anymore, so it was like: bon voyage! We give up, have a nice OD! 'Cept for Deb, who was crazy enough to believe in me and used to run around and protect me from myself even when I didn't want that...

To fast-forward: I got to the ashram, which is just outside of Bangkok, and it's like, No Fucking Way... There is HEROIN everywhere, I feel heroin vibrating to me from all directions... There are 25,000 fucking hmoung breaking opium down into heroin, 50 yards down the road from this place, this is like drug-distributor central, ya know... God is funny, I am NEVER leaving here...

And I was eating naltrexone like crazy, and started basically working out 8 hours a day, 'cuz there isn't much else to do there; and there were these monks, some of whome were like hitting 70 -- from the neck up -- from the neck down, it's like whoah... very healthy 20 sumthin' 'Cuz of course, in Thailand everything is DiFfErEnt, and every substance which is banned everywhere else on the planet, is over the counter and costs .3 cents... So I was doing andriols, and shooting deca, and working out like crazy, trying to get endorphin release.... And losing my mind...

But then I started drinking their Kosmic Koolaid (which appears to be primarily comprised of mitragynine and ayahausca, with some speed thrown in), started eating the sheet of LSD I had brought with me, and time sort of melted, one day all the landscapes I was wandering through inside my mind, all fused and relit, and this blue/black tube, which circles this white/gold tube in like a helix, rose up, this big central funnel filled with eyes, blew open, it felt like blowing a load up my spine, into my brain, these spiderwebs of light blew out into all directions, and it's like okay, holy fuck, now I remember again, this is what I am...

After that I was rearranged... The HEROIN HEROIN HEROIN! inside my head faded out, dirt, tree, rock, heroin, whatever, who cares, I need RED MEAT! Reality didn't really come back together for roughly 30-45 days, any time I was in a dark room, it was a VERY bright room, with MANY gateways to some other place, and that sleeping thing, just wasn't happening too much...

Like I said, roughly a month, month and a half later, I was re-sychned with "reality" most of the time...

The heroin track inside my mind sorta faded out.

That didn't happen for me with just ibogaine. Although ibogaine was absolutely pivital to that entire sequence of events, because none of it matters much, or lasts, when you land, reintegrate, and find yourself sick as fuck, with a killer habit.


Top of page | Main | Search | Science | Opinion | Literature | Links | Treatment | Bookshop | Feedback


ibogaine molecule

Tabernanthe iboga
T.  iboga Flower



© 1999
The Ibogaine Dossier