Microdosing a Psychedelic for Mental Illness


I woke up in a depressed fog again. The emptiness I'm used to. The past two days I couldn't even get out of bed to bring my dog on a walk. He peed and pooped on my apartment floor and yet, still, I couldn't rise from bed. I call my father and ask him to tell me to get up - I'm incapable on my own. I didn't want these mornings to continue. I wanted to go on my hikes and feel the sun touch my skin and actually be grateful for the fact I was breathing but this fine line of sanity I waiver on every day was pulling me into the darkness.

I've been researching microdosing psychedelics. It's gaining popularity and is something I'm interested in because I'm at a very serious crossroad right now. I'm being asked by my psychologist to seek out prescription medication to help my disease. I'm not against medication but the choice to be on these pills would mean that psychedelics can no longer be a part of my life. That these magical healers would be no longer be mine. I would have to cut them out completely. I stand here with prescriptions in one hand and psychedelic medicines in the other. A true red pill, blue pill moment for me. To have to make a choice to give up something so integral to my life for the past four years is terrifying. Not only have the magic of these medicines helped my mental illness - they've helped my soul, they've healed wounds so deep I thought they were unreachable. The heavy trips once a month are working but I may need something like microdosing for my day to day functionality. So my next step is to experiment with that every few days. I promised myself I would wait for a day off of work before trying it but today I was at my wits end. Somehow I find the ability to crawl out of bed and put on clothes. I sit at my desk and take out one of my psychedelics: 2CE. A simple pinch of the drug in my water bottle and I'm off. I pray to the God of all connections that this will heal my mind the way it has in the past.

On my hikes I always listen to the podcasts of my pastor at the church I go to. Mosaic is a wonderful place, one that's changed my life. He was speaking on the voices inside of us that aren't true, aren't spiritual. The voices that tell us when we are naked and remind us to be ashamed of it. It made me think about for how long I was hiding without even knowing it. I went along with the crowd without even knowing it. I remember times I would bare my true self and one of those voices would remind me “be ashamed”. So I would cover up again to hide my purest form. My purest form. My purest form is confused, struggling with disease, difficult to understand, complicated, artistic and beautiful. My purest form is not something that any voice can whisper “be ashamed” to. It has taken me a long time to rip off the clothes I've worn physically and metaphorically and stare at my naked self as well as naked soul - and - not be ashamed.

Who is telling us to hide away who we are? Who is teaching us to conform and to quiet ourselves? Who has the right to contain art? Us: living, breathing art. As far as I'm concerned not a voice in this world has that right. Take off the mask you're wearing and look the world in the eyes. Take off those clothes and show us your form. Stop doing what you do to impress other people and do what you do to impress yourself. To impress the universe. Don't be ashamed.

By the time I got back to my apartment I closed the door behind me and fell to my knees in tears. I knelt and cried. Crying is important to me because when I'm numb I crave emotion but it's nonexistent. For the first time in a few days I felt the pressure of emotion burst out through my tears. They weren't tears of sadness or agony but tears of absolute appreciation. Appreciation that I was feeling again. Appreciation that the sun kissed me today. Appreciation that I am not ashamed in my nakedness. Appreciation that I may be able to choose microdosing psychedelics in lieu of prescription pills that require monthly blood tests to make sure they're not poisoning me.

Colors seem a bit brighter and I'm noticing slightly more detailed patterns in things, completely functional at work and by no means high. I’m a bit more thoughtful, aside from that, the main effect I can tell is the depression has lifted and I don't feel fragmented anymore. Whether it's a placebo affect or my first true microdose - it's acceptable for me to do two to three times a week in my opinion. I'll have to do more research and keep detailed track of everything but I'm hopeful for making this a regular part of my self care and treatment.

Let's be a little more naked and a lot less ashamed today.