I had two days off work and a friend, Joe, asked if I would be interested in buying an ounce of pure PCP from the chemist who synthesized it. I discovered after the fact this is a horse tranquilizer sometimes cut with embalming fluid. Sure, why not? I had no idea. After what occurred over the coming days, I could say this. Comparing LSD to PCP, LSD is a shot of beer, and PCP is a fifth of whiskey. PCP is one of the most shockingly horrible drugs in the world.

I'm driving back to my apartment; Joe is sitting next to me. He snorted a big line. Instantly, he said, “Hallsey'', my nickname, “Where are we going?” “Back to my apartment.” “Where?” “Back to my apartment.” “Hallsey, where are we going?” “Back to my apartment.” “Where is my dad?” “I don't know, Joe”. He went quiet. Wow! I was dating a lady named JoJo. I went into the apartment and told her this stuff was very powerful. We both snorted a very small line. Instantly, everything went euphoric. Surrounded by white light. After a half hour, I wondered where Joe was. I went out to the car; he was drenched in sweat. He hadn't been able to open the door and said he had been out in the universe. He crawled across the street, on all fours, and had urinated himself. He came into the apartment and straight armed my oak coffee table straight over his head. Unbelievable strength. Then both JoJo and Joe were gone. What? Over the next two days, I'm snorting a little every four hours or so with no sleep. I can handle this; I was very wrong. I went to work Friday morning, so high, I didn't know I was high. I worked in the retail appliance industry at corporate headquarters, which also had a sales floor. I found out that I was going to be promoted to store manager. I was dismissed. 

This is exactly what happened.

 My first customers were two men from a company named Stuart Sandwiches, looking to buy a used sixty-nine-dollar freezer. We had an open-to-buy list, where customers with a good buying history could take the product and pay later. I had looked at the wrong list and naturally didn't see the name. I walked upstairs into the vice president's office, which I had never done before. He was in the middle of a meeting, and I explained the situation. I told him there was a man named Stuart Sandwiches. It's a company. He asked me to not let them take it. I went back down, told them, and they went ballistic. I just stood there, looking at the floor. A fellow salesman came over and peacefully resolved the situation. I went and sat at my desk and opened a King James Bible my mother had given me. The words became extremely “pornographic”, vial, threatening and menacing. I closed the Bible. A couple of minutes later, there was a man behind me, looking at a stereo. It turns out he was a semi-driver taking a load of appliances back to Bellaire, which was five minutes from my hometown, Martins Ferry. We were also a distribution center. I went back to my desk, tore the front page out of the Bible, and wrote, “Mom, just thinking of you, have a wonderful day. Love, Bob”. She had, what turned out to be, terminal breast cancer. I went back to the warehouse, found the driver, and asked if he would mind taking this to my mother in Martins Ferry. He said sure and asked if the semi could maneuver in the backstreets. I looked at the truck, it was miles long. I proceeded to walk back to the sales floor, the driver following me. We were in a darker area of the warehouse when he stopped me, grabbed my hand and explained he was gay, and asked if he could give me oral sex. I have no issues with gay men, however, in my mind, at that moment, I had just given him a “Holy Mission'', taking the note to my mother with cancer. I looked at him, turned around, and went completely insane.

 I went to the sales floor and started switching all the price tags. I had an Amana ice and water refrigerator, priced at seventy-nine dollars. A basic washer was over two thousand, a microwave at fifteen hundred and a dishwasher at twenty-nine. There were several customers on the sales floor. I then picked up a can of Coca-Cola, went upstairs, and poured it into an industrial laser printer. I squirted some mustard on my suit and went down and sat at my desk. The V.P. came down a few minutes later and asked, “Bob, what's going on?” Quiet. “Are you drinking anything?” “No.” “Are you smoking anything?” “No.” I said, “Fred, I'm scared.” “Why are you scared?” I told him the truth, that I was overdosing on PCP. About five minutes later, the police arrived and took me to an emergency room. They observed me for quite some time. I have no idea how long because I was lost in the madness of my mind. I was perfectly quiet, the doctor gave me a card to a mental institution, explaining that because I was not violent, I could leave. Somebody drove me back over to work, where I was asked to take the weekend off. I was let go on Monday. A good friend said the printer would randomly print, “Things go better with Coke.”  

I had a 1969 Chevelle SS. and started driving, I swear I remember hitting one hundred mph. I was not on the interstate; I had no idea where I was and became lost several times. I'm somehow on the interstate, then side roads, back on the interstate. I'm dripping wet from sweat. I ran many red lights and stop signs, all at a very high speed. Somehow, I made it home. Arriving safely without even a ticket qualifies as a miracle. I was blown out of my mind. At this moment, I thought I should call my Mother and explain that a gay man might be pulling up in a semi-truck with the front page of the Bible she had given me. Today this seems hilarious. She asked what on earth was wrong with me. I told her the truth, that I was overdosing on PCP, and that I thought I had just lost my job. “You son of a b-itch” and slammed the phone. I had just lost my best friend. I went to hell.

I’m completely insane and under the influence of massive quantities of pure uncut PCP. The summer heat was stifling at over 100 degrees. I'm sitting on the front porch drinking a Little King beer. At this moment, my next-door neighbor, who I had never spoken with for the year I had lived there, came over, sat down, and introduced himself. I looked at him and he transformed. His eyes became black, he became over ten feet tall, and he grew wings and hooves. I said I was sick and had to go inside. I locked the door, took off all my clothes, went to bed and entered hell. All this occurred on a Friday, I came to sanity on Sunday morning.  All I can explain about those lost twenty-four hours is that there was no concept of time. I'm visualizing spiders, snakes, bats with human heads, smelling sulfur, seeing humans on fire in agony, lakes of fire, hearing intense screaming, at times in utter blackness. For every good thought, there was an immediate bad thought. My mind was in a continuous loop. Good, bad, good, bad, good, bad. Extremely fast. The fear and pure terror was astoundingly powerful, as I believed I’d be there. Forever.

I remember during those lost twenty-four hours, focusing on a small constant light and breathing, while all this hell was going on around me. I truly believed, if I stopped breathing, I would be in hell. Forever. I woke up on Sunday morning, and the first sound I heard was birds singing. I took the PCP and flushed it. I didn't even smoke weed over the next year or so.  Before continuing, I should explain what I know is true. Our Eternal Source did not put me through this experience. Source was the light I concentrated on with my right mind and spirit. What I experienced was an extreme attack by my insane wrong ego mind. God does not send us trials, as Our Father isn’t even aware of this dream universe and has given each the Holy Spirit to heal.  All works out for the good of all parties concerned, always. You may not think so at the time. Looking back at my own life, for me, this is very true.  “You may not get what you asked for, you will get what you need”. The Rolling Stones.

I explained this to a doctor several years later. He told me he was writing a book about the effects of natural hallucinogens on the human psyche. There are many plants that are known to have hallucinogenic properties. These plants contain chemical compounds that can react with the human body in specific ways, affecting the brain and mental state of those who ingest them. He asked if it was pure PCP. I said yes. For some reason, he asked if I was spiritual, and I told him I was Christian. He explained that I had gone catatonic. He had patients who were in mental institutions. Put their hand up, it stays up until you put it down. Their mind is in a good/bad loop. Most came out of it, a few hadn't. PCP “short circuits” the synapse in the brain. The doctor said I had experienced a miracle for not being a living vegetable. Yes, I had. 

 I had been attending church regularly. Believing strongly in the existence of Heaven and Hell. Until I became a student of A Course in Miracles, I still believed in hell because I had seen and experienced it. My mind made the whole exposure up.  I now understand the power of our mind. As an example, have you ever tried to remember someone's name and couldn't? Several days later, the name "pops'' into conscious thought. Everything you have seen, heard, and experienced since birth is stored in your subconscious database. You consciously put into your database the question, answer found and given to your conscious thought. This is why it is important to dwell and look upon what is good. Put positive in, not negative. My advice is to never watch the news.