u/san-pedro-peyote

I smoked DMT three times today, with about 30 minutes between each session. I didn't break through on any of them.
During the first big hit of the third session, I held the smoke in and exhaled.
And then my lungs just stopped working.
I suddenly couldn't breathe properly. Not in the sense of feeling like I couldn't breathe — I genuinely couldn't get air in or out normally. I had to consciously force my lungs to work. Every breath took an insane amount of effort.
I would breathe in, but it felt like almost nothing was actually getting into my lungs. I could breathe out, but it felt like I was just blowing out empty air.
Then my vision started going blurry.
That's when I became completely convinced that I was going to die.
I was alone on my terrace. My phone wasn't with me. I couldn't even properly move because all of my attention and energy was going into trying to breathe.
I remember thinking that this was it. That I was actually going to die sitting there, and there was absolutely nothing I could do about it.
I kept forcing myself to breathe.
I don't even know how long it lasted. It felt like an eternity.
Then, little by little, I started getting air into my lungs again. At first barely anything, then gradually more and more. Eventually my breathing started returning to normal.
I was fucking terrified.
I've never experienced anything like that in my life. The most horrifying part wasn't the DMT experience itself — it was the very real feeling that my body had simply stopped breathing and that I was running out of time.
I'm still shaken by it.
Has anyone here experienced actual physical difficulty breathing after smoking DMT? I'm not talking about the sensation of being unable to breathe — I'm talking about suddenly being physically unable to get enough air in or out.

I was sitting on my terrace, smoking DMT from an oil pipe. After about the fourth inhalation, the world around me transformed completely. It felt as though I was floating in the middle of a rain of vibrant colors, yet I was still sitting in my chair. My table in front of me and the empty chair beside me had somehow become part of this new reality.
I took one more hit, and almost immediately a green, human-like figure walked into my field of vision. He looked completely real—just like an ordinary person, except that his skin was green. He was wearing a plain white T-shirt and what I remember as brown trousers.
He smiled, sat down in the chair next to me, looked at me, and casually said, "Hey, what's up, man?"
What struck me most was not just seeing him, but the feeling that came with his greeting. It didn't feel as though I had met a stranger. Instead, it felt as if he already knew me—as if we had been sitting there together all along, sharing a smoke, and I had simply returned. His greeting carried the feeling of, "Oh, you're back."
At that moment, I felt as though I had become fully awake in that reality, while this ordinary reality was the place I had only briefly visited. The experience was so vivid and convincing that it felt more real than everyday life.
I was completely astonished and simply sat there, staring at him. Before I had the chance to say anything, he disappeared just as quickly as he had appeared.
Although the encounter lasted only a few moments, it left a lasting impression on me. More than anything else, I remember the overwhelming feeling that this figure was not a stranger, but someone who welcomed me like an old friend.