On the Complicated Decision to Try Psychedelics

Deep Rex vol. 8

Welcome to Deep Rex, an ongoing series where I share my hand-picked “rex”ommendations, garnished with a dash of analysis, for your reading, listening, watching, or giggling pleasure.

---

1. The decision to try psychedelic therapy for the first time is often daunting. It demands thorough research into logistical intricacies, sifting through an abundance of often unreliable media narratives and personal anecdotes, and, perhaps most crucially, mustering the inner strength to confront the mysteries hidden within your own psyche, including those lingering, shadowy fears.

In other words, the decision is complicated. It’s especially complicated for those of us in recovery—whose entire lives were once ensnared by the consumption of psychoactive substances in order to “cope” within a fractured culture. Thus the conventional recovery ethos often cautions us not to deceive ourselves into thinking that psychedelics, now branded as “medicines,” are fundamentally any different than the drugs we formerly leaned on for relief.

I imagine such a decision becomes even more nuanced when you find yourself in the shoes of Holly Whitaker, the NYT bestselling author behind Quit Like a Woman. This book has not only thrust sobriety into the limelight of contemporary culture but has also served as a lifeline for at least half a dozen women I know personally. Its reach extends to Chrissy Teigen, my dad, several of my male clients to whom I wholeheartedly recommended it, and, apparently, even the creative forces behind the recent reboot of Sex and the City. Which is all to say, her work is quite influential in recovery land.

Holly just published an essay that pulls back the curtain on her very measured decision to journey with psychedelics. In her signature style, she recounts the highs and lows of this endeavor, with a narrative that includes a hair-raising (albeit hilariously detailed) encounter with a self-proclaimed psilocybin “shaman” from two years ago. It’s the kind of run-in with a wannabe guide, someone who likely is not cut out for the job, that regrettably seems all too common these days. Even if you’ve done your homework and vetted your guide as thoroughly as if you were interviewing brain surgeons, sometimes it’s just damn tricky to foresee what’ll unfold when the couch shaman, metaphorically speaking, flicks the lights off.

In the wake of such an experience, it’s understandable for anyone to be hesitant about trying psychedelics again. Nevertheless, in the latter part of the essay, Holly details her recent rendezvous with ayahuasca. The results offer a stark counterpoint:

“Other noticeable and lasting benefits (5 weeks out) are many: I’m slower; I’m more content; I have a smidge less fear and a smidge more confidence; I’m more in awe of this world and more in the moment, present; when fear sizzles my nerves or depression blooms in my belly I am more engaged with it, more curious about it. I’m reading poetry and singing love songs to myself, I’m talking to trees and asking them for advice instead of my therapist and last week I ran over thirty miles of forest. I’ve been less terrible to me, more gentle to me.”

Holly attributes her success to the tools, skills, and self-awareness she cultivated during nearly a decade of process-oriented recovery—and this is the crucial point I’d like to emphasize here.

As many of you know, I work in this space and have had countless conversations over the years with individuals, both in recovery and not, who are curious about having their first experience. I’ve seen firsthand the divergent outcomes that emerge based on the varying levels of intensity and urgency people bring to this endeavor. It’s worth noting that some become absolutely determined to embark on the journey, believing it to be their breakthrough moment. They might find themselves at a retreat center within a mere two weeks, and, praise be to spirit, their lives are forever changed for the better. However, at other times, as the wheel of fate turns, things may not unfold as seamlessly for those who rush. Ultimately, there’s no one-size-fits-all approach.

Holly took several years to reach her decision, a choice that ultimately proved to be the right one. I can attest to this because she’s a friend, and I had numerous discussions with her about her considerations throughout those years before she decided to take the plunge.

The payoff for taking a judicious approach to your first ayahuasca experience appears to be substantial. This observation holds true for the entire spectrum of psychedelic medicine. It still needs to be said: psychedelics are not a magic cure-all; there are serious risks. In fact, the more genuine experience you accumulate in this field, the more grounded you become in acknowledging these risks. Beware of the overly enthusiastic psychedelic advocates whose desire to promote their shit may overshadow the actual realities.

But then, for the right people at the right juncture, the returns can be nothing short of monumental. I mean, truly life-altering in all the ways that will, predictably, make the uninitiated scoff with a well-practiced eye-roll. In recent years, I’ve felt a mix of emotions as ayahuasca has transformed into a meme, an easy target for ridicule, apparently emblematic of everything that’s amiss in the world of “capitalistic” healing. But it’s accounts like Holly’s that send shivers down the knuckles of my spine and demonstrate that there’s profound substance beneath the surface—akin to a love song composed by Nature herself to cut through the torrent of cynical takes that pollute our digital feeds. In any case, I’m thrilled to witness the disintegration of the binary view of “proper recovery,” making way for a more nuanced, authentic, and nondual perspective.

Thus, today’s first rex is Holly’s essay, which is included in her “Psychedelics in Recovery” four-part series. (It has a paywall, which I believe you can get a free trial if you can’t pay now. And, IMO, few can write with as much realness, so it’s worth the $5 or whatever it costs.)

Using psychedelics in recovery, part 2

Also, at some point, this motivates me to revisit an essay draft about why I believe group psychedelic work is often more effective for individuals facing addiction, given the communal nature that demands a person to be both a participant and a witness to the unfolding of the full spectrum of the human psyche. Lastly, for those doing research into these matters, all this pairs well with my essay “Psychedelics as Catalysts for Recovery.”

---

2. Relatedly, I’ve been enjoying Mel’s newsletter

Headlines

which succinctly covers important developments in consciousness, psychedelics, and mental health economies. I especially appreciated her post “The Dark Side of the Shroom”.

“Psychedelics have come a long way in bucking stigma, with research illuminating promising mental health benefits. Understandably, many are wary of slowing momentum with frightening stories of trips gone south. But discussing risks doesn’t negate psychedelics' healing potential; rather, by acknowledging the full spectrum of their psychological impact, we gain a more nuanced understanding and ability to use these tools with greater care and responsibility.”

---

3. Meta’s Threads has now been declared “dead.” No surprise there. More interesting, however, is what’s happening to social media usage in general. If you’ve noticed a decline in engagement on your posts and it feels like only the hardcore self-promoters are sticking around… you’re not alone, my friend. Outside of TikTok, social media usage—and its efficacy—appears to be tanking:

Source: Axios

Count me in the “tickled” camp on this one. I’ve been off Twitter (refuse to call it “X”) for a minute now. It’s remarkable—after a few weeks, the sense of “missing out” diminishes entirely. And then there’s the glorious mental freedom. You are no longer burdened with thoughts like ‘Should I tweet this?’ or ‘I ought to capture this vista.’

In Deep Rex vol. 6, I delved into the sheer absurdity surrounding Threads and foresaw its unavoidable downfall (it didn’t take a rocket scientist). As social media platforms continuously refine their algorithms, the majority of users are merely lurking out of habit, while the rest remain uncertain about how to engage, with only a select few #blessed influencers standing out. At some point, there comes a time when we must collectively embrace a more dedicated approach, moving beyond passive lurking to actively contributing to harm reduction efforts.

---

4. I made a mistake and I’ve made a correction. Several weeks ago, I published a short essay called “Beyond Mansplaining.” I wrote it fast in the morning and published it without getting any editors or second eyes on it. This is something I don’t normally do, but as I’ve written, I’ve been experimenting with switching up my approach to keep things fresh. In truth, the piece had nothing to do with mansplaining (when a man patronizes a woman by explaining something she already knows), nor did I intend for it to have too much to do with gender, for that matter…