Psyche-Delish Drug Center is one of Portland's most loved psychedelic drug centers, used predominantly by experience-seeking patrons. Other drug centers take residence all around the city, but they are often designated to specific classes of drugs, and some drug centers are even attached to rehab centers. Many accept health insurance, and most of the addictive-substance centers vow to never turn away addicts, including relapsing or withdrawing users, even when those people don't have insurance or any other way to pay. While the proliferation of drug centers has resulted in the mainstream use of psychedelic drugs, it has also been the most effective (meaning: harm-reducing) measure against harmful drug epidemics, including the opioid epidemic. Drug overdoses and other drug-related deaths (including deaths resulting from needle sharing and suicide) have been dramatically reduced. Drug addictions and drug-addiction treatments aren't shunned like they used to be. Many new-age employers openly support employees who have to undergo rehab treatments. What's more: psychiatrists are using psychedelic drugs to treat other drug addictions, as well as to treat patient trauma. The list of pros goes on and on (but I'm clearly biased...my best friend is a psychopharmacologist).
When Nakomi and I enter Psyche-Delish, we go in through the main entrance (different from the patient entrance). The person at the front desk is ready for us; she smiles at Nakomi and hands us both tablets. "Please fill out all of the documents; when you've finished, the tablet will tell you, and you can bring it back to me."
"Oh joy," I mutter under my breath, walking back to the waiting room chairs (which are luxurious and fluffy, making this place feel not at all medical, thank goodness). "Paperwork."
"Just click all the boxes," Nakomi says dismissively. "You don't need to read anything."
Nakomi's wrong, though; I do need to read everything, even though doing so will just add anxiety on top of my already all-consuming anxiety.
Perusing each page's contents really does elevate my anxiety. One of the forms reads:
☐ I understand that the use of Vivectica ™ produces intense psychological effects, including visual hallucinations, auditory hallucinations, and other perceptual hallucinations. Time distortion is included among these (e.g., short periods of time may seem to pass slowly, or long periods of time may seem to pass quickly). Synesthesia, where senses are mixed up (e.g., tasting colors or hearing shapes), may occur. Awareness of the environment may increase acutely or diminish entirely. Awareness of the self/ego may increase acutely or diminish entirely. Bodily and spatial perceptual distortions may also occur (e.g., I may seem to grow or shrink; I may feel disembodied). Hallucinations may also include visits to/from "other" beings, a phenomenon dubbed "entity contact."
☐ I am aware that my emotions may be felt across the spectrum and may be very powerful, including abject terror, overwhelming confusion, and euphoria. Conflicting emotions may occur simultaneously.
☐ I understand that I am receiving an intravenous injection of Vivectica ™, and that the onset of my experience will occur within seconds of the injection. My experience will peak within five minutes, and psychedelic effects will most likely cease within an hour. However, my emotional reactions to these effects will likely last much longer. I am able to stay at the Psyche-Delish Drug Center to regain my sense of stability if I choose to do so. I must stay at the facility for the duration of my experience, and if my guide does not clear me to leave because of residual effects, I am obliged to stay longer even if I desire to leave.
☐ I am aware that research shows psychedelic drugs can trigger symptoms of mental illness, including depression, anxiety, and psychosis, as well as related mental health disorders that involve these symptoms (e.g., bipolar disorder, schizophrenia, etc.).
☐ I understand that Psyche-Delish Drug Center is not responsible for any adverse events that may occur, including, but not limited to, hospitalization, mental health problems, and death. I am aware that the staff at Psyche-Delish Drug Center includes medical personnel and that they will do all they can to ensure I am safe and comfortable, but my body or psyche may still react negatively to the drug despite their efforts. Psyche-Delish Drug Center is not liable for any costs associated with treatments required as a result of adverse events, nor are they liable for any harm resulting from these events (including death).
☐ I promise to disclose all major past traumas in the following form, and, if my guide deems it necessary, I will first consult with a psychiatrist before using Vivectica ™. Failing to do so may result in adverse events. (To learn about what constitutes a "major past trauma," see p. 4.)
As I turn to page 4 to discern whether my past traumas fit the definition of "major," my regret for agreeing to come here begins to solidify. This experience is one I have never had an interest in, despite my best friend's interest, research, and fame. I realize that Vivectica ™ probably isn't available on Mars and that I won't ever get to experience it once I'm there, but I don't care. I really don't want to do it.
I glare at Nakomi's beautiful silver-blue hair as she returns her own tablet, thinking, why have you made me come here?
As soon as she sits back down, I gesture at my tablet. "There's nothing good on here," I hiss. "Nothing about this sounds fun."
"Fine print is for lawyers, not for you. If you want to be sold, go get a brochure." She points at the wall housing a thousand brochures, so I do as she says and stand up to grab one, the one titled, "Vivectica ™." The front desk assistant is waiting for me to return the tablet, so I quickly skim the brochure's contents. Expand your mind...experience the profound...heal your inner wounds...what strategic marketing.
Both Nakomi's and the assistant's eyes burn into my skin, so I tuck the brochure into my armpit and finish checking the boxes. My anxiety has only subsided slightly from skimming the overly optimistic contents of the brochure, but I decide to do what I know how to do best: put on my big girl pants. I've done plenty of scary things in my life; I can handle this, for the sake of Nakomi.
After I return my tablet, we wait for just a few minutes on the plushy chairs before someone comes to fetch us. "My name is Winston," he tells us, "and I will be your guide today." I expected someone new-agey, but he looks like a regular old guy, wearing slacks and a button down t-shirt. He doesn't even have a beard or any visible body modifications; his hair is combed and parted like he's an esteemed family physician rather than a glorified Shaman.
He leads us down several halls and to a room, opening the door and letting us go in first. The room looks serene, the walls covered in imagery of a lush forest, with moss carpeting the ground and trees rich with shades of green. Forest sounds—birds, breeze, trickling water—seem to emanate from hidden speakers. Because the images are so realistic, I assume they must be displayed on a video screen, that the walls themselves must be screens (much like the windows at The Coast). Plush green pillows cover the floor. "I booked this room especially for you," Nakomi winks. "After all, there are no forests on Mars."
I had no idea there were different themed rooms available to patrons here, but I don't reveal that, instead forcing myself to smile at Nakomi's small act of kindness.
"Let us sit in a circle," our guide tells us, and the three of us sit in a triangle. "Nakomi, it's an honor to meet you," he says. "I know you've experienced the wonders of Vivectica ™ before, but what about you?" He turns to me here.
"She's a virgin," Nakomi says before I can answer.
"Oh, how wonderful!" he says, and he looks back at Nakomi. "Would you mind stepping out?"
She stands up and leaves like she knew this would happen. His eyes fix on my own. "Your documents show me that you have no major past traumas. Is that correct?"
"I've had a pretty good life," I tell him. Does he really need to double check this? "Do people really have a habit of lying about their past traumas on the sheet?"
"Some people are more willing to open up to a real person rather than a sheet of paper. My job is just to make sure that all patrons, especially first-time users, realize just how intense these trips can be. If you have any repressed trauma at all, it will come up."
"No repressed trauma. I have a therapist for all of my very minor problems, and I consider myself very mentally healthy." Part of me wonders if I should lie and say I do have major past trauma; maybe the guide will make me leave and I won't have to do this. No: Nakomi will see right through that. Ugh.
"Okay," the guide says, smiling. "I'll go fetch Nakomi."
After he grabs Nakomi, he gives us a spiel about the various roles he can play during our experience, including fetching us things (water, puke buckets, blankets), giving us comfort (holding our hands, guiding us through problems we encounter), and, if necessary, enacting safety measures. He should have led with that, I think, because I hate that talk of safety measures (administering benzodiazepines, restraining us, taking us into the in-house emergency room) is now the thing weighing on my mind.
"Without further ado," Winston says, "Let's get you both comfortable!" He gestures for us to lie on the floor with the green pillows. Nakomi and I sit close together, and he comes over with a tray containing our injections.
"Just relax," he says, and I let the plushy green pillow swallow me as he comes over to me first. I like going first; I don't want to watch Nakomi go first, as her reaction could scare me. He takes my arm, swabs the area around my vein with some alcohol, and then sticks the needle full of drugs into my blood vessel.
No longer can I pay attention to him, although I'm vaguely aware he's doing the same thing to Nakomi but with a different needle. There is a sound. Getting louder and louder, higher and higher.
Higher and higher and HIGHER, as the lights get dimmer and dimmer and DIMMER,
and suddenly my world is gone.
subchapter | nature of reality
What is "reality"? The definition isn't as clear as one might think. The simple response, that reality comprises "that which is real," further begs the question: but what is real? Some say that those things that are real are those things we can experience through our human senses. Others find this simplified view problematic and further the definition to include those things that we cannot perceive with our senses alone but whose existence we can prove through the aid of tools or with other forms of evidence—things like atomic/subatomic particles, micro-organisms, and planetary bodies both in and outside of our solar system.
But still some people deny that we can truly prove the existence of anything. What if each person's reality is merely a projection of their mind? What if all humans are living in a simulation—what if we are the grand experiment of another/other entity/ies? Countless theories—both religious and nonreligious—dwell on the possibilities of the "truth" of our reality. Will humans ever evolve enough to be capable of knowing the true nature of reality?