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‘My’ poem

This one has been a long time coming. A great deal of soul-searching has been involved. I don’t mean that flippantly. Unlike the post’s title. That was flippant as hell. Here I will exorcise the last remnants of my addiction to depression.

WARNING: This article contains extreme self-with-a-small-s-reality-tunnel-shattering prose and is entirely subjective and inconsequential. See post 4 (and 1,2,3) for the prologue.

5: Psilocybin Semilanceata

Let me take you back a few years to set the scene:

I am at a friend’s house. We used to be more than friends, but in this instance she has kindly agreed to ‘trip sit’ for me. I arrive and we hug. She knows I am nervous. I have been anticipating this moment for the whole week, maybe even for months. It is the day that I will bite the bullet and eat a ‘heroic dose’ of psilocybin mushrooms. The term ‘heroic’, perhaps for some, has connotations of a gung-ho, brazen and arrogant drug taking experience. I mean it only in the sense that an archetypal “hero’s journey” involves the necessary departure from home and the encounter with a grand disruptive force that shakes the protagonist and leaves them altered upon their return. It is the archetypal journey that most of our beloved films and books describe.

I sit looking at a pile of frozen Liberty Cap mushrooms: picked on one of my quests into the Peak District; frozen to preserve their potency. I weigh out five grams. It doesn’t look like enough. I opt for six just to ‘make sure’. In retrospect I should have kept upping the dose, since my belief that my method of preservation would totally freeze-dry the specimens was ultimately mistaken. My ego would (not quite) shatter into a thousand pieces.

It sounds a bit much, doesn’t it? At the time, I was questing. I had racked up a great number of recreational psychedelic trips, a fair amount of mindless hedonism and sensual overstimulation, and a recent spell of self-medication  (described in earlier parts of this series). It seemed like it was time to head to the next level and see what I had in store.

I’d fasted for 24 hours. I do some yoga and sit in meditation for some time, before lying in the darkened bedroom of my friend. Alone, I recite personal affirmations about my will to yield to the trip, letting the wisdom of the mushrooms guide me.

For anyone not inducted in the ways of psychedelic experience, this probably already sounds very ‘woo-woo’.  I used to think similarly - I was a hard-line materialist. Talk of ‘chakras’ made me scoff. An atheist throughout my adolescence - it was only after certain recreational doses of these mushrooms tipped over in intensity and made me question the source of certain insights - only then had the pillars of my worldview begun to slowly crumble. 

I lay now, anxious in anticipation at what new information may soon to be revealed, and curious as to whether the last foundations of these pillars would be uprooted.

In short time new information will be revealed. This is the point in the story where people of the same strictly materialist persuasion will point to the obvious source of the information: inside my skull. I have no proof to the contrary, just intuition and anecdote. I do point out, however, that until scientific studies on altered states have advanced (and to do so sufficiently may be impossible) neither do they.

Back to the trip. As the intensity of the experience begins to ramp up dramatically I become aware that in my lifetime a great deal of suffering will be enacted upon humankind. All of my worst fears are to come true. A New World Order in which the value of human life is diminished to the point of virtual slavery. Perhaps even Virtual slavery (keen readers of this blog - if they exist - will know of my love for the narrative of The Matrix). This is a terrifying realisation to make, right up until the concluding part of the plot - the great reveal : The ‘us-vs-them’ paradigm in which I have until now framed all conspiratorial beliefs and fears over the way the future might pan out - it’s bogus.

There exists no ‘us’ to be in contradiction to a ‘them’. The observer ‘is’ both ‘us’ and ‘them’. All are comprised of the same field of energy: unity consciousness. There is no sense in which separation/duality is the true nature of reality, other than as a cosmic game that ‘I’ play on ‘my’/(our) Self(ves). Or, as Bill Hicks succinctly put: “We are one consciousness experiencing itself subjectively”. All energy eventually returns to the source.

So what? ‘So what?’ is how I have lived my life ever since. It is only recently, after noticing a few ‘glitches in the matrix’, that I realised I am only now entering Act III of my personal hero’s journey that began that night. The plot of Act III? I must integrate this knowledge and take it out into the real world. 

This blog has been a stuttering start to that endeavour. I knew it would be healthy for me to reach out and attempt to find my tribe, but I lacked the egotistic drive to put myself forward and I had a high regard for keeping these thoughts private. Maybe I can blame my sister that I never learnt to share (Joking! She actually let me play with her dolls when I had none. Apparently I loved the Barbies).

I have since made token gestures at sharing my experience, but it’s only after going on a much further physical journey, and realising the isolation such a trip can cause, that I have started to change my day-to-day mentality to manifest the realisations from this  earlier psychonaughtic trip.

I must integrate and share with the global tribe (or anyone who will listen) my natural gifts. Time to create. Time to connect. This is how I see the immediate future of mankind - a learning that together we are stronger. We must harness the network affect. Indeed, this is how I see a spreading of psilocybin’s teachings - after its scientific acknowledgement as a treatment for depression, depressed, hopeless people will hear about it over the network and decide to give it a try.

For the moment, it starts with ‘me’.

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Salvia Divinorum plant

This is a continuation of a series on methods for treating depression. See part 1part 2 and part 3.

4. Diviner’s Sage for a World in Need of Wisdom

I awoke recently from a dream, then laid awake to think about it - letting the subconscious ingredients stew in the fertile hypnagogic state of my open mind. It is not often that I get a clear sense of meaning from a dream. I don’t often remember them even 30 seconds after I wake. The evening in question I had been listening to this vital podcast from Russell Brand where he interviews Wendy Mandy - a woman steeped in the wisdom of ancient shamanic traditions after spending much time with indigenous people from across the world. The message of my dream was that I also needed to speak up.

I have spent a lot of my own time ‘doing’ in the last few months (which explains the gap between posts in this series) and not much time ‘being’. In the little free time I have had for relaxing I have been attracted to channels like Rebel Wisdom and podcasts such as Brand’s. Discussions from these sources have helped me make sense of some of the chaotic world events that we are all experiencing and act as a balance to the brutal realism I am taking in from alternative media news outlets.

The very fact that I am ‘doing’ so much these days is a welcome transformation from my previous lingering state of depression. In my experience of a catatonic zombie state due to mental illness I was at times scarcely able to get up for a glass of water. The methods I used to reduce the impact of this crippling affliction had to be expanded and built upon like a toolkit. I have already mentioned the more common sense and traditional avenues - good nutrition, good exercise, meditation and talk therapy. Part 3 of this series is where I began to delve into the chemical altering of my perception and its influence on my recovery.

Pay It Forward

I am told it is world suicide prevention day today, so what better way to celebrate the prevention of my own suicide (and hopefully encourage the prevention of others) than by explaining one of the mechanisms through which I am alive today. The mechanism I speak of is a natural one. It has hundreds of years of human ceremonial usage. It is called Salvia Divinorum (Diviner's Sage).

In all likelihood the only time you might have heard of this herb, which hails from the mint family, is in relation to its abuse and consequent banning (specifically there are many videos online of people taking it in a non-ceremonial setting - at the same time being laughed at by their 'friends' for their confused disembodied reactions). It was legal in the UK for some time but this legit use was finally put out of the reach of the many potential beneficiaries by the government's passing of the sweeping Psychoactive Substances Act.

Usually when talking about a psychoactive substance I would be careful not to recommend use - given that every mind and body is different and the recipient could react in any number of ways. Who am I to prescribe a mind-altering chemical? The same is true of Salvia Divinorum - with one exception: ceremonial use or medicinal micro-dosing of the plant.

Given Salvia's non-toxic nature and the rapidity with which it is metabolised by the human body (if you are interested then of course do your own research) I have lost my trepidation about passing this information onto others. Mental health issues are killing far more people than Salvia ever did. A personal reason for this change of heart is that I have since had contact with a person who was at their last resort with their mental health issues, who I could have possibly suggested this to (having had positive benefits I will describe below). Alas, I did not mention it. Their story did not end happily and keeping quiet was one of my few regrets in life.

Quids In

If you have followed my writing this far, I will assume that you are open minded enough to consider that nature may have provided a free solution to our mental health crisis and you might like to know more. Up until now there has been very little information to support the plant's use as a treatment for depression. The same was true when I began to try it in such a manner - all I could find were anecdotal reports (which I now feel ready to add to). I am very keen to see some real scientific research into this plant, but because of the profit motive I feel it will be some time until proof of its benefits can be seen.

The ceremonial use of Salvia Divinorum goes back at least as far as Mazatec shaman in Mexico and possibly to the Aztecs and so it has a spiritual and medicinal history that long predates its current status as illicit and dangerous (the War on Drugs will of course keep us safe). The traditional usage was to roll up a few leaves in a small ball or 'quid' and to hold this in your mouth for a time, until the active ingredient Salvinorin A was present in the body at the level that was neccesary.

This is not how I first experienced the plant - instead it was much like the YouTube crowd mentioned earlier - smoked through a bong in a concentrated format in order to transcend our reality. The difference is that it is nigh on impossible to reach such an intense psychoactive state through chewing (I have also tried this, but the time it takes to chew is more than enough time for your body to process the chemical). In my most depressed state, out of a desire to leave my body and mind, I also smoked a potent 60x extract in a cigarette. That experience turned my mood around instantly from one of utter despair and suffering to awe at the magnificent night sky.

I reiterate that this is not a sensible way for an ill person to try this medicine.

By following the traditional method of chewing a quid (expanded on in another anecdotal report) I was able to reach a state of mental calm and clarity without any other noticeable psychoactive effects. It was not a trip, it was a subtle changing of thought patterns and mental state. It was very apparent when I took the medicine while experiencing symptoms of depression that involved negative thought loops and suicidal ideation. I could sense the same thoughts starting to emerge after chewing the quid, but they would not lead anywhere. It is almost like they were blocked. I remember thinking that the feeling was what I expected from chemical antidepressants I had been prescribed by my doctor.

Meds for Some

I tried a couple of different pharmaceutical antidepressants when I was in the depths of my illness. The first was totally ineffective and had unpleasant side-effects. The second seemed more effective but also had its drawbacks. I am not here to tell people that these will not work for them and should be avoided. My own experience was mixed, with many different avenues being tried on my path to healing.

This ancient and natural ingredient, Salvia, was one that helped me tremendously at a time when every other avenue led to misery. Since I am still alive to speak, today seems a perfect moment to break my silence.

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Putting on a mask is often easier

2. The Tactical Smoothie/Run Until You Can No Longer Run

This one is a bit of a double header (which is good, since the title of the post sounds like a movie). It may seem a little obvious and maybe even trite to tell someone to go and exercise and eat well. Many people told me it would help and indeed their advice seemed misplaced considering the severity of my symptoms when I heard it.

The problem with self-managing depression is that the manager... or captain if you prefer (manager sounds a bit like an office worker)... is asleep at the helm. Worse than that, even: the captain is very much awake and is intent on steering the ship into an iceberg, hoping for scenes much less poenient and much more depressing than those in Titanic, if you can imagine that*. The iceberg in this analogy is maybe a huge tub of ice cream or a bed that has been thoroughly slept in already (besides that, it’s only 4pm).

So, how are you supposed to subvert the chain of command and get what you need. What you REALLY need, to get a little better? A little goes a long way when you are trying to course correct from a terrible, and potentially one day life-threatening set of coordinates.

I found this strategy to be very useful for pulling myself out of a nose dive**. After a particularly punishing spell of self-negligent/destructive behaviour brought on by my illness (perhaps for a few days or a week without stopping) I would - unfailingly - have a moment or two of respite. A moment when my inner voice of compassion for myself would have to pipe up and make itself heard. Let’s call this my first mate.***

It turns out, or it did in my case, that a moment is all that’s needed. If you can pounce on that little bit of positive volition and leverage it into some positive action, you can wrestle hold of the ship’s wheel and set course for AMERICA! Or, at least a slightly less self-destructive course than you were on before.

This was how it played out for me:

1. The self-destructive habits and actions come to a whimpering halt after many days.

2. I decide I’m not that bad after all, or perhaps I am that bad, but even bad people have to eat.

3. I go to the shops and decide that buying vegetables and fruit mightn’t be the worst idea in the world. I may be useless but for the moment I’m willing to try and make things a little better for myself.

4. I get home and make a healthy smoothie and put it in the fridge. I may by this point already be edging back towards darkness.

5, The negative, self-hating voice comes back and prevents any further improvement in behaviour. An amount of time passes in which the symptoms again are hitting me hard, but I banked that positive will from earlier, so there’s still hope to pull it round.

6. At some point, maybe at 11am the next day when I’m trying to sleep my way out of unhappiness, I get thirsty. Then I remember my smoothie. I hate myself but now the only bit of positive volition that is needed is to walk to the fridge. You see where this is going.

Many years later I met a cognitive behavioural therapist in a pub, and she told me that this was kind of a form of that. She also said that she was only referred patients who had struggled with the initial prescription of this treatment and asked for more help. I thought back to when that was me - I was given a load of worksheets which seemed to me to be very much like school homework and so a total waste of time.

Later still, I managed to work exercise into this technique. If I could just convince myself to put on some running gear and get out of the house, even to jog for 5 minutes, that would be enough to satisfy my first mate. I always ran for longer than that and I always felt better. Sometimes I didn’t stop running until I was totally physically exhausted. That was one hell of an anti-depressant.

Keep reading these posts for some less commonly recommended techniques that I used, but would never suggest to anyone else (until now - I’ll explain why).

* the Oscars were just on, so I am making a topical yet also totally dated and irrelevant reference. But it’s kind of on theme and analogies are greater than Olivia Colman, so I will persist

** OK, fine, analogies only go so far. Maybe it’s time for a metaphor instead. What’s the difference? How long’s a piece of string? Wait, that’s more of a riddle...

*** Didn’t think I could pull it back, did you? We’re back in the room... I mean ship.

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the way they used to talk, back in the day

This is a continuation of a series on methods for treating depression. See part 1 and part 2.

3. It's Good to Talk

So said Bob Hoskins. Although I think he was marketing landline telephones, back when they were a thing. I remember seeing that advert and being totally convinced that it wasn't him. I mocked my sister for suggesting that it was. I knew so much about everything back then.It's good to talk!

So - on the subject of my own mental health - you'd have thought I knew it all too. It turned out not to be so. I guess that is one way you could categorise the illness: a sudden and deadening realisation that you have no clue whatsoever what your purpose in life is and why you should even be in existence. A self-destructive existential crisis. I certainly remember the early stages of the condition being confusing and guilt-ridden. Something was wrong, but I was loathe to admit it to anyone initially, and who was I to be unhappy, anyway? I was very well looked after physically and materially.

Only with hindsight can I clearly see how my life situation at the time was contributing to a slow destruction of my perceived self-worth. I was holding myself up to an ever enlarging measuring stick and making myself adhere to a never-ending list of 'necessary' life goals.

I had to totally change my life situation and reset all of my expectations about how my life was meant to pan out in order to beat the illness. It was a total un-tethering that would be the most beneficial treatment for me at the time. Even after that I still was unaware of why it might be so helpful.

Luckily I had some very good friends who were able to counsel me through the most distressing times. They were the most valuable resources - for me to contrast my sick mindset against theirs would relieve the pressure immediately and show me that it was mostly in my head. I will be forever grateful to these people for listening to me in my time of need. I also consulted University counselors and the Samaritans at various points, which served a purpose at the time, but I did not get to the root of the issues in the same way as I did talking to my friends.

The Best Chats

Regarding talk therapy, a lot of the 'work' that was done in this area of self discovery was done at raves. It was a happy (ecstatic even) by-product of trying to escape my problems, that left me with more understanding and yet more curiosity about the origins of my mental disease.

So far, any advice I have given so far in this series has been fairly conventional, and I must stress at this point that what worked for me will very likely not work (at least in the same way) for people who are struggling with the condition and looking for a way out. The most effective techniques I learnt were all, in the end, good self-care habits and learning to be open enough about what was happening that I could receive help. MDMA affects the serotonin system and should be approached very carefully by people with a serotonin imbalance*, and not at all by those on SSRI medications (from my own experience - it will not work).

Pill popping didn't work for me, until I changed pills

Given this disclaimer, I would be missing a large (and crucial) chunk of my story if I didn't relay the use of psychedelic medicines to help treat me or guide me through the process. The SSRI medications I tried did very little for me, and blocked the use of natural supplements that I later found to be beneficial such as 5-HTP. After a close friend lost a parent to the illness, and I had been given the chance to offer advice that was less conventional (but didn't) I have found the courage (or rather, stopped caring about the repercussions) to speak up for the more alternative routes to healing that were so pivotal to me.

The best chats came on MDMA. It also played the following roles:

  • Showed me, at the time a very sad person, what it was like to be euphoric: without a care in the world, not a shred of anxiety or despair. In knowing this feeling even for a few hours I was shown a glimmer of hope about the realms of my human experience and that my future mightn't be filled with darkness.
  • Opened me up emotionally to the point where I could admit my life choices were very much led by the need to please others and that this was not enough of a basis for a healthy mental self-image.
  • It acted as a gateway - primarily because of prohibition and the realisation that the government was very wrong about this, and many other things - to exploration of other, more natural, psychedelic medicines; medicines such as Salvia divinorum, Psilocybin (which I will explore in parts IV and V) and later dissociatives such as Ketamine and its analogues.
  • Led me to the use of 5-HTP and L-tryptophan as supplements - initially used to stop the 'come-down' after the drug.**

Science, not just anecdote

I am not alone in having experienced the medicinal properties of this drug. In fact, we seem to be entering a psychedelic renaissance in which the true helper roles of many substances that are now illicit will be fostered using medical institutions and with government approval. The role of Rick Doblin, founder of MAPS, in this transition, cannot be understated. 

For a more nuanced opinion on the whole thing, try this video interview discussing the pitfalls of the current resurgence in psychedelic use. I'll leave you with a quote in which the interviewee (author of a book on 'flow states' and other ecstatic experiences) talks about the research done by MAPS with MDMA-assisted psychotherapy.

[MDMA] does something very specific - it shifts your neuro-chemical profile [...] and the closest neurological analogue they have found to somebody in an MDMA therapeutic dosage is post-orgasm - and it's a state of satiety - you have oxyctocin, you have prolactin, you've got an increase in serotonin, basically feelings of safety, security, belonging, wellbeing. And that actually allows people to relax their vigilance response, turn off their amygdala, and their threat scanning, and have a little bit of distance between themselves and their stories, and their past pains. And that alone can be transformational.

* The 'chemical imbalance of serotonin' theory on the origins of depression is being found to have a lot of holes in it, and to have been funded by drug companies with vested interests. I direct anyone interested in this to the book 'Lost Connections' by Johann Hari

** I later used it to combat winter blues. I will probably do that this winter as well, although so far have not felt the need. Supplementing vitamin D3 is also hugely helpful at this. For some scientific research on D3 deficiency, try listening to this podcast:

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Shut up. Seriously - shut up and leave me alone. I’m not joking - if you don’t shut up and leave me alone I’m going to...

Going to what? You’re stuck with me you idiot. You worthless piece of shit.

That quote’s not verbatim - in fact it wasn’t even spoken out loud - but I can paraphrase it pretty accurately. Why? Because it was me. Both parts. A similar dialogue repeated in my thoughts, a seemingly unending barrage of self-hatred and unreason, for years.

t was very confusing; mainly because I was well. Materially I was sound. My body was tip-top. Illness was for the old and the unfortunate. Luckily I had everything I needed in my life... right?

Looking back at those times with some new found perspective, I would say I was depressed on some level from my early teenage years until my later twenties. It’s hard to differentiate teenage moodiness from depression, but the beginnings of symptoms were there: reclusion; emotional over-reaction to life’s events; I was often morose and downbeat.

Let’s say 14 to 29 were the unstable years. That’s HALF MY LIFE. Why did that happen? And where did the perspective come from? Doctors didn’t give it to me. Friends and family got me through the toughest times but they weren’t able to pinpoint the causes of it. So did I just grow out of it?

It was work. Serious work of the kind that you only do when your back is against the wall and the alternatives are much worse. The alternative at the time was suicide or a state of catatonia*. Compassion towards my loved ones ruled out the first option, much as I craved taking what seemed like the easier option - I remember thinking when I was 15 or so that if there was a switch on the back of my head that would turn off consciousness forever, I’d have gladly flipped it. The other option for my twenty-something self was a daily life of zombie-like stasis, with no desire to get up, walk, eat, or go out.

How long can one linger in that sort of no-man’s land without permanently negatively impacting the psyche? Thankfully a mental health professional did, after some wait, do something to help me and found a combination of drugs that would stop the rot. I didn’t like them, but I took them, feeling safer, then, that the ’man who knows‘ might be able to fix me.

Adam Ant

Life went on, and the symptoms returned. I was adamant** that I wouldn’t stay on the drugs for longer than I needed. This left a gaping hole in my treatment that had to be filled by something else, something more holistic. It was treatment that at the time the most highly trained NHS staff were never going to reccommend.

It turns out that there was a change in my psyche from the worst bouts of illness, but it was only semi-permanent. Our brain chemistry is plastic***, but it takes time to overwrite deeply worn patterns with something new. So here, in a series of post, are my top 5 depression busting techniques that carried me through the most difficult times towards a place of relative inner stillness. They are ordered from the most influential to the least. The first was crucially found when I was close to my lowest point and I’ve cultivated it as a practice over the years since.

 *My autocorrect favours the sovereignty of the Basque state of Catalonia. Who knew it was so political?

** I was not Adam Ant - although a quick internet search reveals that he also has struggled with depression. The evidence mounts...

*** For more on this see this article:

1. Vipassana meditation

Sit. Close your eyes. Concentrate. Observe.

Sounds pretty easy. For me, when I began, it was one of the hardest things I’d ever attempted. It gave me hope where there was only despair. It showed me a path that could  limit my lot of suffering. It promised to eradicate it fully.

I am not a religious person although certain spiritual (read: not dogmatic) inclinations have developed over the years of my recovery. These were informed by experiences on psychedelics but they are also reinforced on a daily level, little by little, by this practice.

Thankfully, the retreat centres I went to did not package the technique along with dogma, in the most part, and it is a technique that is based upon repeated direct experience for its validation. This experience was what drew me in (where dogma would have instantly repelled me) and it is all I wanted - all I needed - to take from my first meditation retreat 7 years ago. I have now completed 60 days of retreat - spread out over the period since, and continue to meditate daily (even for a few minutes).

I can do no better in explanation about this technique than this book:
Why Buddhism Is True
I urge you to seek it out. For those looking for a brief summary, see:
Why “Why Buddhism Is True” is True

Vipassana meditation for me was the catalyst for knock-on effects in my emotional understanding, creativity, physical health, mental focus, compassion for others - the list goes on. It’s also the most amenable to daily use, although it did take a long time in order to reap the most benefits in my mental health (repeated practice really is the key, not something that’s easy to develop when you’re at the peak of despair).

Keep reading this series for some anecdotal experience on more immediate antidepressants - some which are obvious, some more esoteric.

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