Psychedelics

Hi friends!

A friend recently asked me how my experience on psychedelics have changed me, relative to other major events in my life. This is a hard question to answer, partly because it feels like comparing apples to the Andromeda galaxy. There are way too many variables that would confound a meaningful comparison (apples man!), especially when it comes to a psychedelic trip and, say, my journey across the Camino de Santiago. I’ve also only taken them twice, each time with a moderate to high dose for the purpose of personal insight, which is to say I am no veteran of the psychonautic landscape. But I’ll try to provide a tentative answer to what I think is at the heart of the question: how have psychedelics affected my life?

The past six months have been covered by a dark, oppressive cloud that made me doubt if I would ever feel good again. I sometimes wondered if life was worth living, and though I quickly extinguished these kinds of thoughts, I had lost faith in my ability to understand how I felt and what I needed to move myself forward. I hated being alone but couldn’t enjoy the company of others. Crying spells came over me at random times throughout the day. Nights were unbearably restless. I felt stuck and lifeless, like a ship without a sail.