

Surrender.
Not resignation. Surrender.
(Several years of reading philosophy, meditation, Zen Buddhism, resolving mental health issues, trauma work, therapy, psychedelic therapy, going through my personal hell, dropping self-hatered etc. but you can skip the hard stuff and just accept that all you ever amount to is the dash between your birthday and time of death. It’s very liberating once you stop believing the idea that you, or anything really, is “supposed” to be special. Or indeed that there even is a “you” - that’s just another way your mind is keeping busy. Vast majority of people take the long way around though.)

For me, psilocybin wasn’t even enough. I did one round in a therapy setting with MDMA, 5gs of mushrooms. Then later another round with just 5g of mushrooms. Mostly just laying in bed, listening to specific music with the facilitator making sure I stay hydrated and all that. I cried a bit but it didn’t feel like it got quite there. Mostly it was boring. I was quite frustrated because there was so much hype about psychedelic therapy but of course I was the one super special boy on whom even a high dose of mushrooms didn’t accomplish much. Because of course it can’t be that easy for me.
I’m sure it was minor long lasting effects though but it wasn’t the dramatic shift I was secretly hoping for.
I however did get the opportunity to do 5-meo and that… did things. Just the handshake round made me feel the worst possible emotional pain. Then the second round made me scream, dry-vomit and convulse. I thought I shat and pissed myself (thankfully not, though the facilitator said it wouldn’t have been the first time and it would’ve been fine). I felt like my whole being was put through a blender. Then somehow I still did the final round which was more of the same. I was with a competent facilitator and a few friends and weirdly, it felt good to have people witness it all without judgment. In fact I think that was one of the most important factors because it was other people that had taught me to suppress and push everything down. Having a different set of people hold space while I went through that all (and provide hugs after) was profoundly healing.
Afterwards for the first time in my life I actually felt healthily empty inside. The sense of stuck emotions was gone. It didn’t magically make me happy, I seem to just have a chronic depression, but at least I didn’t (and still don’t) feel dragged down by unprocessed feelings. I don’t have this constant sense of “something is wrong”.