Methoxetamine, or MXE, is an exotic new dissociative anesthetic drug structurally related to ketamine. It first emerged in 2010, synthesized for the express purpose to be more powerful than ketamine with less toxicity. It has a strange property, action at serotonin, the same receptor that MDMA works on.
Methoxetamine is a barely 5-year-old drug. However, there’s been several overdoses, including fatal ones. The tabloids were trolled into calling it “roflcoptr,” a la meow meow or mephedrone. Call it MXE or “mexxy.” Mixing with other depressants like opiates, or benzos is dangerous. It’s serotonergic behavior means taking hallucinogens or uppers like LSD, MDMA, or antidepressants like Prozac (fluoxetine) as well may cause severe, possibly deadly, serotonin syndrome.
MXE’s hydrochloride salt, the most common form, when pure, is a white powder. Start doses small, at 5mg. MXE’s response curve is inconsistent partly because of a physical phenomenon known as crystal polymorphism. A light oral dose is 10 – 20mg, a moderate dose is 20 – 50mg, and a heavy dose is 50 – 100mg but I do not suggest going over 75mg. Insufflation or snorting doses are about half that of oral.
MXE is a very sociable drug, more so than ketamine in my opinion. This could be serotonin. Light doses create muscle loosening in your limbs like you get from a lot of drinks and mild numbness. If you want to be able to have a beer and dance, this is where you want to be. There’s nowhere near as much nausea versus getting wasted. Moderate doses are contemplative, perfect for a casual party with a few friends. I recommend ambient or prog or post-rock music.
If you want to go heavy with MXE and chase dissociative trance, bring a bed, and just one friend. Choose wisely.
“Why do drugs at all?” once asked an Ivy League grad and NYC transplant, whose parents paid for a lavish apartment. She extolled the virtues of a $20 artisanal absinthe cocktail with a good book. Ignoring that alcohol is itself a drug, this is someone who escapes casually. This is probably why we were only ever casual partners. I was her casual rebellious escape.
We laid down in bed together. As the MXE took hold, we keep talking while dissolving into a cuddle puddle. Our warmth faded as the numbness grew. She wanted to know everything about me and vice versa. The nonsense talk soon emerged:
“Were those real words or made-up words?”
“I can’t see my ears or hear my eyes anymore.”
Time dilation, or our experience of how fast time flows, is a very noticeable characteristic of dissociatives. As the MXE antagonizes more of the NMDA receptors, time will become harder and harder to interpret. Was that ten minutes or ten hours? Time slips, and soon, both of us, entered the m-hole, methoxetamine analogue to the storied k-hole. The conversation stopped. We’d been seized by MXE’s dissociative trance.
I remember flying on a cold breeze, my mind interpreted my numbed corporeal body as cold. I wafted onto a cloud over a cluttered city, writhing with people and life. It’s a place without pain, without abuse, without rent, and without regret over losing her. The ambient music blended into an orchestra of a flowing notes, dissolving the cloud I laid on. A zephyr carried me into a magnificently alien double sunset, produced by a wall lamp. The imagery is relative to one’s own life experience, I saw my childhood metropolis, and she saw the bay and the famous hills.
We woke together from the m-hole, what seemed like vivid days was a mere hour. I remember first feeling her cold hand gripping mine as I came to and she remembered my cold hand gripping hers. The return is chatty and amorous. That vaguely MDMA-like action helps.
MXE’s anesthetic properties are not kind to sex. Our lack of sensation meant just taking off our clothes was clumsy. MXE loosens the tongue as well as the body, each word seems to be dripping. Is this MXE brushing our serotonin receptors or the NMDA antagonism?
“Slow,” I whispered. Draw out the foreplay as our feeling returns.
We held each other close, trying to capture any heat against our numbed bodies. My finger ran down her spine, feeling each bump of her vertebrae. She ran her hands on my chest, and inevitably our hands went lower and lower. Her breath against my neck grew hot and faster.
Each inhale grew sharper and sharper, our chests pushed against each other. I pressed my lips into hers, our tongues and our saliva mixed. Her hand, already far down, ran over me, evoking a gasp.
Enough feeling came back that our hand’s strokes began moving something inside us. Fluids slowly began to flow. Our free hands were squeezing each other and our lips were locked together. Our mutual fondling grew faster and faster. Our violent kisses made obscene noises, wet flesh against wet flesh. It took well over 2 hours, the climax blossoming slowly, but we shuddered to completion on each other’s hands savoring the rewards of our patience, hands clasped together, and tongues deeply entwined.
Like ketamine, MXE can be addictive. Who wouldn’t get hooked to this feeling? Limit your consumption to a few times a month. Being stronger than ketamine, MXE isn’t as damaging to the bladder, but that still can happen. MXE, the amazing party drug. MXE, the 1-hour vacation. That numbness, that trance was the point of anesthetics. To take you somewhere else while a surgeon works on you, in a world of no pain, or even attachment to physicality.
I never saw her again, she left to Southeast Asia on a whim to “find herself.” You’ll find me in a Brooklyn dive bar, curled up with someone warm with a bag of MXE in my pocket.
Have fun; try not to die.