I had planned on using the psilocybin on a Sunday afternoon. I was going to finish with a client at 3, and then just spend the rest of the day focusing on my little experiment in mental health. But as things often do, the week kind of went sideways pretty quick, and I found myself desperately in need of a break of some kind. So my Sunday plan now became my Saturday plan. Because I felt that if this was going to work at all, the sooner the better.
I admit to being what used to be called a teetotaler. Which means I don't really drink much, if at all, and I have never used any kind of controlled substance. So yes, there was a degree of nervousness in doing something like this. Not to mention the fact I was choosing to do it all on my own, without someone to oversee the process, or even just keep me company in case things got a little too intense while I was under. But the truth is, I felt like I had to face this on my own. And I felt like I understood enough to feel like I wasn't in any real danger by not having a person there with me.
I set up my bedroom to be as comfortable as possible. My music was programmed into my phone, headphones charged, and an eye mask to help me go as deep as possible for as long as I would be under. With all this being done, I dropped the mushrooms into a tall glass of water, held my nose, and downed it as fast as I could. It was kind of gross.
Once I had drank the entire glass, I lied down on the bed, put my headphones on my head, and covered my eyes. I think a big part of my nervousness was the idea that I would be giving up control, even for a few hours. The thoughts and feelings that were locked up inside of me, were about to be given free reign. But because I was committed to see this through, I told myself that it was best to lie back and not resist anything that was about to happen. It was both the best, and scariest advice I have ever given myself.
It took about thirty minutes for the mushrooms to kick in. All at once was a kaleidoscope of colors going on under my mask. Even with my eyes closed, I saw all types of morphing shapes and colors. Never once holding still for more than a second or two, before hitting me with a different formation or color. It reminded me of the Claymation cartoons of my childhood. Everything fluid and constantly in motion.
I had heard of people having nightmarish visions of demons and other creatures, or even picturing their own deaths. But having an Old Testament devoted dad, I have seen my share of pictures depicting what Satan is supposed to look like, so that really didn't worry me. And I have felt for a long time that I have died and come back to the world more than once, so that didn't scare me either. So lucky for me, it was all bright colors and clay figures.
Once I started to really go under, I started to really hear my music. Again, this was slightly different than the way the studies were done, because I purposely chose my own music to try and elicit emotions. And boy, did it work. Within the first 45 minutes, I found myself in tears. Not just crying, but crying hysterically. A song came on that reminded me of my dad, and I found myself calling out to him. Another reminded me of an ex, the next my late best friend, and on, and on. I found myself talking to each person individually and dealing with whatever feelings were still left inside me regarding that person. And believe me, there were plenty of feelings to go around for a lot of people. But all of that talking to ghosts help me realize just how much trauma I had been dealing with in my life over the last several years. And that I have never really been able to fully deal with the cumulative effect of all that damage.
For three hours I was overwhelmed with all of the emotions that I had seemed to hold down for the last several years. And I began to hash out every regret, mistake, and relationship that seemed to cross my mind. Including feelings of simply not being loved, or having love in my life. The answer to that last one came once I lifted my mask for just a moment. I realized that both of my dogs had positioned themselves directly next to me, and would stay there for the whole process. And as silly as it may seem, it really did drive home the point that I do have love in my life. And exactly the kind I was hoping for. But because we sometimes get so caught up in what we think we need, I was completely overlooking it.
By the time I started to come around again, I was exhausted. My mask was now completely stained with tears, and I was somewhere between feeling wiped out, and almost euphoric. I realized a couple of things as soon as I started coming out of my "trip". The first being that "trip" isn't a word that really describes what was happening. Especially in the context of the people who first used that word. It was definitely a journey, but much more of the therapeutic kind than anything else. The second thing I realized was that I had done this exactly the way I needed to. The music, the isolation, everything. The way I did it enabled me to face so many fears, insecurities, and anger formed over so many years, that I wouldn't change one thing.
The third thing it helped me see, was that the majority of my issues don't come from just the medical condition of mental illness. Don't get me wrong, I know that there is still a chemical issue, or a wiring issue in my brain that makes dealing with certain things difficult. And I legitimately have dealt with ADHD, OCD, and other issues. But once I started to come to, I realized immediately the effect that all of the trauma I have been through has had on my life. And to be frank, some of my first memories were of things that would only be described as traumatic. Physical abuse, assault, emotional abuse, and loss. From the very beginning they were there, and almost started to feel commonplace in my head. And in the period before moving to Texas, I lost both of my parents, my best friend, and the only aunt in my family that I was close to. I also lost my home, got a divorce, and was laid off from three jobs, all in the space of less than three years. Not to mention being homeless for a short time once I actually got to Dallas.
It sounds crazy to think that all of those years of grief, and trauma, and anger, and sadness could all be dealt with in three hours or so, but it wasn't about dealing with every single item as it happened. It was more about dealing with the fact that it was all there, and going through the process of forgiving the people at the heart of it. Especially if that meant forgiving myself.
It has been three weeks now since I first used the first dose. As per most of the research I have read, I followed up with another "hero" dose, six days later. While it was nowhere nears as intense as the first, I found it interesting that while the first dosage found me dealing with the past, the second found me focusing on the future, and just what I want to see from it. I have had a couple of slight bouts of anxiety, but I found myself able to deal with it and get out in front of whatever was bothering me.
As for depression, I have had a couple of "down" moments, but I wouldn't categorize them as depression in the way I have become familiar with the feeling. I have been able to rally myself and feel confident moving forward again. I also no longer have that "foggy" feeling in the front of my brain anymore. I have been way more productive as well. Proof of that being in the fact that I have now banged out this entire story in two days. Something that would have seemed impossible just a few weeks ago.
It sounds odd to me to say an experience with a hallucinogenic drug was life changing, but for me it has been. And it's certainly not something I would have ever imagined happening. And even though I could wish for to have come along sooner, I am just happy that it's happened at all. I'm glad to have this fog finally lifted.
No comments:
Post a Comment