reality goes out the window as a continuing, permanent experience. You become more or less apathetic (and part of that was the ecstasy use, definitely). Like living with a permanent fog around your cognitive abilities. According to my parents, it would take me a minute to reply to simple questions and much longer to form coherent thoughts. The interesting part (as with all drug abuse) is that I couldn't tell I was fucked up - it had gone on for long enough where it simply didn't occur to me that I was destroying my brain. After about maybe the 30th time or so - right around the time it became 'something to do when we were bored' as opposed to an experience - was when it became stale, predictable, boring, just a way to get high as opposed to an enlightening journey. To the point where I would look at my watch and know exactly when I was going to peak, when my come down would start, when I would start to experience the 1-2 hours at the end of the trip where you just want to sleep/not be mindfucked...it was not as fun as it should be.
I had a family friend who literally would manufacture these drugs. Someone would ask him about a certain hallucinogen and he would go off explaining the chemical compounds and how they interacted with your body, etc. Thinking back, the guy really was a brilliant dude. Still the only person I know who always had mescaline, ayahuasca, peyote, lsd, ecstasy, DMT, mushrooms, you name it. Out of all those, DMT and mescaline are the only psychedelics I would take again. LSD and MDMA scare me to think about. Peyote/ayahuasca - no fucking way. NOPE.