As I mentioned in Part 1, I grew up with a healthy fear of drugs and took great pride in the fact that (unlike many people in my family) I didn’t use them. Psychedelics seemed particularly dangerous. After all, every after-school special in the 80s convinced me that anyone who tried LSD or magic mushrooms would either jump off a building or end up in a mental institution.
But despite feeling holier than thou about my choice to abstain, there were two things I could no longer ignore. The first was the mounting evidence that my beliefs and fears about psychedelics (hell, maybe most illegal drugs in general) were based on a false narrative. The second was that even though my life looked pretty good from the outside, inside I felt exhausted and numb.
Years of constantly assessing the environment for potential threats and trying to fix myself (under the guise of self-improvement) to feel worthy of love were wearing me out.
I’m grateful that some part of me wanted to change more than I wanted to stay the same (insert cheesy motivational quote here.) That’s the part that was brave enough to try something different. And to me, the idea of taking drugs was pretty radical, so I decided to dip my toe into the psychedelic waters with microdosing.
A microdose is a sub-perceptual dose of a psychedelic substance (usually psilocybin/magic mushrooms or LSD.) It doesn't produce hallucinogenic effects as a full dose typically does.
I wanted to work on managing my anxiety, so I decided to microdose psilocybin, which is known for reducing anxiety and depression. There are several different microdosing protocols you can follow, but I chose to microdose three times a week for ten weeks. After the initial ten weeks, I took a two-week break and did another ten-week course with a different mushroom strain.
Some people notice that they feel more focused and creative or have a sense of clarity on the days they microdose. For me, the benefits were cumulative over time - especially after the second ten-week course.
One of the most significant changes I attribute to microdosing is a substantial reduction in my anxiety. One of the ways I used to cope with the trauma of my childhood was by trying to control everyone and everything in my immediate circle. When something was beyond my control, it was a massive trigger for my anxiety. After microdosing, I was calmer, and when things didn’t go the way I expected them to, I was able to acknowledge the frustration around the situation without spiraling.
My husband noticed I was less reactive to things. Prior to microdosing, I had a lot of anger bubbling under the surface all the time, and it would come out in ways that didn’t always make sense. Microdosing helped me learn to notice how I felt about a situation and pause in the moment so I could choose not to respond inappropriately. Even if I didn’t know the appropriate response, it was huge to recognize I had another option.
Microdosing helped me feel more connected to people. Because of that, I’ve developed a more profound sense of empathy and compassion toward others. That feeling of connection extended to nature as well. I found that I wanted to be outside more. I started walking in the woods with my dogs most days, and if I couldn’t get out there for some reason, I noticed a difference in how I felt.
One of the things that surprised me about microdosing was that I was more emotional. There were moments when I felt such a sense of gratitude and love, but I also cried a lot. That part wasn’t my favorite, but intuitively I knew I needed it. As a kid, it wasn’t safe to show (or even feel) my emotions, so I learned to temper them or stuff them down, depending on the situation.
Microdosing reintroduced me to feelings I had tucked away for years, and their intensity and frequency made me realize there was a lot I was still holding onto. At the end of my microdosing journey, I was ready to take the next step toward letting it all go…
I love hearing how microdosing helped to connect to your emotions and nature!! It such a relief to hear you say self empowerment was wearing you out; sad but relatable, thank you for sharing your story.