Psilocybin Update

19/05/24

^{EDITED TO ADD: DISCLAIMER: The contents of this post should NOT be taken as any form of advice or guidance; it is merely an account of a personal exploration. Any actions taken by others in relation to the contents of this post are entirely their own responsibility. Consideration should always be given to personal circumstances, including physical and mental health status, and the law in one’s own country.}

Due to sickness, my two week break from work has become extended; I have pleurisy.

This particular lung condition and I are old acquaintances (adversaries?); I had it at the start of each academic year throughout my time at university, and have had it a couple of times subsequently.

This meant I was able to recognise the symptoms very early on and start treatment; I’m very fortunate to have a GP who trusts me to know my own health and was willing to take ‘precautionary action’ rather than the usual having to wait until the infection is really full blown.

I believe it helps that I visit so rarely, and only for serious matters. This suspicion was actually confirmed to me when, a few years ago, pre-gallbladder removal, I presented at the GP surgery, in the middle of an acute gallstone attack, really dehydrated from vomiting; she took one look at me and reached to phone the hospital.

I imagine the other end was saying something about lack of beds or whatever; my GP cut in, saying, “It’s been over two years since this patient has been to see me; if I’m telling you she’s sick, trust me, she’s very sick.”

I was in a hospital bed and on a drip within the hour.

Even in the midst of my pain, it was oddly validating, and boosting that she had my back like that.

Anyway, she believed me when I told her I’m sick now, and I have another two weeks off work stretching ahead of me.

This chunk of time is going to require a different approach to the previous two; I can’t really do anything physical as it makes me cough. When I tell you coughing hurts, I need you to imagine your lungs are full of broken glass, and are being squeezed by a fist holding razor blades; that about covers it.

So, yeah…

The obvious way to utilise this unexpected free time is to delve deeper with both the psilocybin and the self-therapy.

I suddenly realise I’ve been remiss, dear Diary, in failing to update with regards to the mushroom spores. The crop failed; despite thinking I was being scrupulous with hygiene, it became contaminated with green mould.

To say I was devastated would be the biggest understatement; I’d pinned so much on that crop – like the prospect of the help those little ‘shrooms offered was about all that had kept me anchored for weeks. When I was forced to accept there was not going to be a crop, I howled on the bedroom floor like a toddler denied chocolate.

It took me a day or so, but I regrouped and thought about next steps. Despite the crop failure, it still felt that the psilocybin ‘experiment’ was the right path for me.

Eventually, I found a minimally risky way to procure some magic truffles and have been using them for microdosing for about two and a half months now.

I’ve been using the Fadiman protocol; you microdose on day one, don’t for two days, then microdose again on day four… repeat.

There seems to be debate about how long you should do this before taking a longer, complete break. I’m working with a ‘suck it and see’ approach; apart from some real basic, but sensible guidelines, it all boils down to – you have to find out, through actual trial and error, what dosage and protocol works best for you.

There have been definite, positive results from my microdosing practice. The most notable is a hugely increased sense of resilience, being less affected by negative influences, finding it easier to deal with difficult situations/work days, to bounce back from setbacks.

I think progress may have been even more noticeable had I been able to afford one-to-one therapy, but I’ve been doing ok with the combination or microdosing, podcasts, writing, a couple of friends, and Frazzled Café meetings.

Mindfulness, writing, peer support groups, an exercise regime, guilt free self-care…. these are all new things I’ve brought into my life, along with the psilocybin, to get myself to the top of the mountain I’m climbing.

Actually, come to think about it, I’ve been doing better than ok; I’ve been slaying demons left right and centre.

There’s been recognition of the reality of my marriage; facing the truth of childhood and teenage traumas; true, fearless acknowledgment of my own unhealthy behaviours, thought patterns and self-image.

It doesn’t seem much, written down in that little paragraph, but it’s been a painful, frightening, disorientating, but ultimately worthwhile, process.

I must have cried literally litres of tears, but each crying jag felt like a true release of a bit of the pain; not just a better-for-a-while release, but a gone-forever release.

Although this process has, at times, been utterly exhausting, I’ve found my energy levels and motivation have, overall, been noticeably higher; this continues to steadily increase.

This has been massively helpful as there’s still plenty of work to do on the house, plus, I find that being busy and achieving things helps keep my mood up; sitting around is nice sometimes, but too much of it tends to make me morose.

So, it’s felt to me that the microdosing has been having the effect I was seeking.

However, more recently I’ve been feeling like psilocybin could offer me more – like there was more inside that I could get rid of, more healing, more default network rewiring… just more…

My research into microdosing long since rolled into macrodosing research; again, although clinical research is a little limited due to legal issues, what is out there shows incredible results within the realms of mental health that concern me (and beyond).

I’ve been increasingly drawn to trying a larger truffle dose; however, all accepted wisdom says you should at least have a trip sitter to be with you throughout your journey; having a qualified therapist with you is best scenario.

There’s no-one I can trust to sit with me during such a trip. Well, aside from Altan, who unfortunately lives on the other side of the world to me, so is an impractical option.

Some deeper research revealed useful anecdotal accounts of solo tripping (for therapeutic reasons, as opposed to pure recreation).

I thoroughly recommend the Tripp Rapport podcast for honest accounts of experiences with psychedelics of all types, in all sorts of circumstances, undertaken for all kinds of reasons. The participants, and the direction of the podcast, are primarily ex-servicemen with associated trauma, but what’s discussed is valid and relevant far beyond the obviously targeted audience.

Along with the usual precautionary measures (safe place/environment, prepared mindset, plenty of time available for journey and for integration afterwards), I was pointed towards using a trip app (there truly is an app for everything).

The one I plumped for, based on little more than reading a journalistic article about using it, was Field Trip. There’s a ton of extra stuff available of you wish to pay for it, but at least for now, the free parts are sufficient for me.

It acts as a diary/record for you as well as being of assistance for the trip. So, you state what you want to achieve, setting intentions, and enter info about what you’re taking.

If you ask for help, there’s some beautiful guided exercises for all stages from the ‘coming up’ all the way through to the end.

There’s also a big red record button so you can make note of any insights or random thoughts you have.

I sound like I’m getting paid to advertise – I’m not – for all I know there’s waaay better apps out there and everyone will rush to tell me so. I’m simply sharing about the one I randomly plumped for.

Now, I believe it’s not at all advisable to take psychedelics when physically unwell, so I won’t be taking a larger dose until I’m better. But, I can use this time to prepare myself mentally, to get my intentions clarified, to triple check with my gut-feelings about doing it.

I have a feeling of quiet determination about this, alongside what I believe to be a healthy degree of trepidation. Not fear, just a desire to make sure I do things right so I can maximise the benefits of the experience.

I’m actually really glad the spore growing failed; I think my emotional state was too desperate. If I’d dosed at that time, I think I could easily have become terrifically overwhelmed by too much being revealed at once. The universe knows.

The time feels right to take the next step; I want to be cleansed of all the toxic bullshit I’ve carried for so long.

It’s a funny thing I’m finding about recovery – it makes you greedy – the better you feel, the more you want of those good feelings.

Good selfish.

JP