I guess I'd like to share my story about mental illness and psychedelics. (although many here probably already know the gist of it)
The consensus is that people who have a history of mental illness should not take psychedelics. I agree with this to an extent. It's better to be safe then sorry. I guess I have never been one to play it safe.
I've been diagnosed with over five seperate illnesses over the course of eight years. The doctors didn't know what was wrong with me, or why I did/thought/felt the things that I did. I was originally diagnosed with major depression and general anxiety disorder as a teenager and heavily medicated. A year later, they decided I was bipolar, and tagged on obsessive compulsive disorder, to explain my tendency to be ritualistically self-destructive to my body. When I started hearing voices and having other symptoms of psychosis, they even thought that I was schizoaffective, but shrugged that off due to the fact that I was a minor.
When I turned 18, my continuing struggle with inflicting bodily harm on myself landed me the diagnosis of borderline personality disorder. At that point, I had given up on both doctors and medication, having been medicated to the point of stupor and believing that my doctors couldn't care less. (which I doubt they did) Several suicide attempts and psych ward visits later, I began nullifying my issues with alcohol, which only caused more problems.
Fast forward to my first encounter with the shroom, having been off meds and away from doctors for a few years. I had heard all the warnings about not taking them if you have a history of mental illness, but I didn't care. I had taken ecstasy before to powerful result, an experience which helped me stop my incessant drinking. Now I thought I was ready for something bigger.
I started doing shrooms regularly over several months. Although my first experience with them was bittersweet, there was just something about them that appealed to my bruised spirit and so I continued. Rough moments and joyful moments shared with the mushroom. Madness never once crossed my mind...until a very eye-opening trip.
For a month afterwards, I thought I was mentally gone, and terrified. Voices, seeing things, insane paranoia, the works. I couldn't take a shower for fear that someone was looking at me, nor go to sleep for certainty that my head would be crushed by a mallet from a burglar. Everytime I looked at an object or person, I would see the pattern of that object or person, as how it relates to the universal pattern of everything. I started hearing/seeing messages intended only for me, thinking special thoughts about the Bible and Jesus. I also developed a horrific fear of death. I have never felt so scared and sure that I had lost my mind. This, I thought, is where true madness lies.
So what did I do? I tripped again.
Reckless? Yes. If you are having symptoms like I described above and are frightened of them, it is best that you see a professional and lay off the drugs for awhile. My story could have easily turned out differently.
The trip after I discovered my madness was remarkable. I guess part of me was thinking, "Well, if I'm already crazy then tripping a few more times won't make any difference." Another part of me was desperately wanting to know that my good times with the mushroom weren't yet finished.
That trip changed it all. I speak often here at the Shroomery of the "The Big One," but it was the trip afterwards that changed everything for me, and helped me integrate issues from "The Big One."
I had moments of clarity that have stayed with me. I realized that my ego had fooled me into believing all those years that I was mentally sick. Who am I to conform to a rigid scale of what is mentally normal? Why should I live in fear of my own mind just because "someone says" it's not right?
I started to realize that no matter what, sane or insane, all that matters is that I am true to myself.
That changed everything for me. I began eliminating all negative influences from my life, all traces of negative thought. I began trying to put my experiences into words, to evaluate them privately and with others who understood. I found comfort in Buddhist teachings, as they resonated strongly with me. I tried to sincerely live as Jesus would live. And found that I've never been happier.
What sounds cliche above is truth for me. I feel as though I've been baptized by the universe and come out a new person. I've survived all the labels, pills and doctors to realize that all that matters is that I am true to myself. If I am crazy, then let me enjoy it for petes sake!
Is is possible that I am insane, even now, and that I am just deluding myself by writing all this? Sure it is. I will cheerfully admit that I am probably mad. But the fear of it is gone. I feel as though I am the happiest crazy person there is. And I would still be struggling with myself if not for illumination from the mushroom. I believe that strongly.
I use mushrooms every few months now and each time gets better and better. I feel I have the foresight to understand and cope appropriately if a time comes when I am faced with true madness and fear again. And it might. Life is like that. But I know I will pull through.
I am sharing this to show to people that while it is certainly possible to use psychedelics if you have struggled with mental illness, there's a real risk involved. It's important to know yourself, to always reach for the golden light even when you feel shrouded by dark crazyness. Just always move forward, don't allow yourself to become complacent and disrespectful of our plant allies. Be aware of where you stand. Be conscious of yourself.
The most important thing to remember when using these drugs, sane or insane, is that you stay grounded. If you can say with certainty that you're mad and laugh about it, you'll be okay.
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