Some obvious disclaimers/housekeeping: I'm not a doctor or drug expert, I just did this because it seemed like the right thing to do. If you don't like drugs or think whatever I'm about to say is bullsh*t, I invite you to enjoy the other quality content on the sub. I'm an artist and pagan witch- drugs kind of come with the territory and there are plenty of studies about psychedelics helping people with trauma, depression, and other issues. If you're ok with alcohol but not other things, maybe examine that, but that isn't what the post is about. Also, I'm always wordy. This post will be long. I'm taking the time to write it because if it helps even one other person, it'll be worth it.

I did shrooms, maybe 5-6 grams over the course of 8.5 hours separated into two rounds. I'm in kink recovery and I had been feeling like I hit a wall in my recovery and therapy. I couldn't shake the guilt, anger, and sadness towards myself, and the idea of dating was overshadowed by the abject terror of encountering kink again. I was very sensitive to kink imagery and ideas, like after years of pushing the trauma down and finally uncovering it, I was hypersensitive to kink suggestions and themes. So, Saturday evening, when my roommate was gone for the weekend (but friends close and on standby in case I needed help), I started round 1. I'd already done shrooms once with friends and knew what to expect... mostly. The experience can be impacted by your mindset and environment, and I knew going into the evening that I had work to do. This is an approximation of the experience, some key moments and quotes.

Round one had a lot of the typical shrooms stuff. Fun colors and hallucinations, touch sensitivity, munchies, yadda yadda. I watched Tangled in between being distracted by my cat and literally anything else. Flynn is MUCH cuter and I cried during all the last scenes from the lanterns to the parents reuniting with Rapunzel. What was very different was the complete and total love I had for myself. I texted my friends that I was a very cool and perfect and smart person, that I loved them, and I loved on my body in ways I had never done before. "Staaaand UP! On your perfect strong capable legs!!"

Before the weekend, I'd been mildly crushing on someone from work I'll call Kyle. I had been dealing with the crush in a research-focused way- trying to see what it was like to appreciate some qualities and examine others without ignoring any and all red flags and going 0-infaturated. At some point during round one, I blurted out, "silly scared man!" and laughed at what an idiot Kyle actually is. I saw the times he didn't listen to me for what they were and other unprofessional things. "Kyle just has a nice ass and he knows how to use a powerdrill. I know how to use a powerdrill." We don't care about Kyle anymore.

I thought a lot about men, actually. Just how silly they are? So afraid and silly. Afraid of what other men think or say, afraid of women and their growing awareness and power, afraid of me. They're so gay for eachother but not really??? I laughed, "They wouldn't know what to do with me even if I DID give them the attention they want so badly."

Some people will tell you not to look in a mirror while tripping because the visual effects on skin can be disturbing but I stared and smiled into a mirror like I was looking at the most beautiful woman in the world. I was just glowing.

Round one was cute, but as I could feel the effects wearing off, I felt panicked because I KNEW I wasn't done, in a spiritual/premonition sense. There was more to see, I could feel it. SOOO I took more. More than I started with. Fast forward through a watch of How to Train Your Dragon, I was upset dragons aren't actually real, and I was drawing, writing stuff about how amazing I am, how far I've come, that I'm so smart and capable and I should come back to these letters to myself if I ever feel sad.

At some point, I was in my kitchen, naked, making a drink and the thought creeped in that I might look ridiculous, and that's when the third person perspective took over. "No, NO we will never feel shame again- shame is a tool of the patriarchy they use to control you- we don't need their rules." I wrote notes to myself that I had done such a good job, I was sorry people were mean to me, I was proud of myself.

It was late, I felt called to cleanse myself of the evening and that's when stuff really hit the fan. In the shower, with the lights off, I had fewer distractions. At this point, my mind really went haywire and I remember moving and contorting in ways that might have looked insane from an outside perspective, but I was having very important conversations.

Still going in third person, I said I was sorry. I've said this before in other sad shower times. What changed everything was when I heard myself say "I forgive you." I'm tearing up now remembering the experience, but I was on the floor of my tub, in a child's pose, crying like I have never cried in my life. "I'm sorry, I forgive you, It's ok, You didn't know, I'm so sorry you thought you needed to do that, it's not your fault, let it go. You don't need it anymore. It carried you so far, but it's ok, let it go. I know you're worried about who you'll be without it, but it's time. Give it up, love. You can do it, just let it go."

Stuff like that, repeatedly. I spat forcefully, I blew my nose, I washed my entire body vigorously. I was getting it all off me. I remember bowing to my old self as she departed, I thanked her for her strength, how far she took me, I said she did such an incredible job, and that it would be all better. I could take over and do something new now. I had visions of a veiled owl woman the second I stopped crying, like I had removed a block that was keeping me from an important message. I saw myself older, glowing, with hair growing to the small of my back (it's barely at my shoulders now). Some more personal stuff happened, but after I got out of the shower I announced that I was ready for the next step, to find my partner, and that one day I would turn the corner and he would just be there, wonderful and strong and kind. I sketched a bit of how I envisioned him. And I slept like a baby.

In the aftermath, I can think and see things that triggered me a few days ago and feel nothing. I used to have weird trauma around Dune. Long story. But I think I can see the trailers and advertisements for the new movie and not be on the verge of tears. I can think of the man I thought was my friend and said all the right things only to betray me (twice, oops) and feel nothing but hope that he gets the help he needs, not shame or regret. I actually feel open and receptive to the idea of a loving partner, instead of afraid of being hurt again. I think of my friends in relationships (HVM and HVW certifiably) and I'm happy for them and I know that'll be me someday, instead of feeling an awkward sort of jealousy because I didn't believe I was worthy of someone that loved me like that. There's a peace and quiet I have never, ever experienced.

I'm not telling you to do this, but you might try writing letters to your past self and forgiving them, or drawing/making lists of all the great things about you. Again, this was me telling my experience in the event it helps someone else in their journey. If you've been curious about the possibilities of psychedelics and wondering if it's worth the plunge, I say it is, but I had also been working very hard and progressing in my trauma up to that point. I did what I did to take me the final mile and then some. It was a completely draining experience and I spent most of the next day in bed, eating, rehydrating, and moving slowly. You may try a smaller dose with a friend you can trust to guide you.

As always, thank you for reading. And thank you, Doodlejack of the past, for all your hard work. I'm in good hands, I promise, and there is so much to see.