When Todd’s psychiatrist suggested he start taking psychedelics, he figured it was a joke.

It wasn’t. The former corporate executive from Colorado retired in 2006 after an MRI revealed his spine was riddled with a dozen tumors called hemangiomas, which later spread to his brain. Todd was told he would die before the end of 2008.

Somehow, Todd has survived—he credits medical marijuana, which he now uses daily—but he is still considered terminal. “It could be tomorrow. It could be five years from now,” he says in a call.

However, the 54-year-old spent the past decade plagued by a host of mental health problems, including PTSD and treatment-resistant depression. He was suicidal and tormented by violent night terrors. Nothing, not even massive doses of Xanax or Valium, could temper his panic attacks or end-of-life anxiety.

“My mental condition was deteriorating rapidly, and I was on [antidepressant] medication No. 14 and it wasn’t working,” Todd says. “My psychiatrist said, ‘I honestly think you're a big candidate for psychedelics.’”

That was about a year ago. Todd began taking homegrown psilocybin, the highly illegal alkaloid in so-called magic mushrooms. Known for prompting profound hallucinations, psilocybin was placed in the restrictive Schedule I category in 1970, meaning the US government recognizes no medical use for the drug and says that it carries a high risk of abuse.

Todd says there have been clear benefits from psilocybin with few side effects. He hasn’t had a single PTSD episode since he began taking it. His depression evaporated. The mushrooms even help ease the pain—agony that feels like being “shot in the back”—from the nerve-crushing tumors in his spine and skull.

“It’s knocked that out, it’s wiped that slate clean,” Todd says. The day before we talked, he’d eaten eight grams of fungus. A heavy dose is considered five grams, so this was no psychedelic snack—but Todd ingests this much about every week.

The experience is positively hypnagogic, allowing trippers to enter a dreamlike conscious state where time is distorted, color is amplified, and depth perception is warped. Euphoric, unbridled laughter is common, as are oddly introspective thoughts about existence and reality, and even synesthetic sensations, such as being able to “see” sounds. A trip can last four to six hours.

There can be negative effects as well, such as nausea, dizziness, paranoia, or panic attacks, but Todd doesn’t experience those. He still takes 10 milligrams of escitalopram, an antidepressant, and when the mushrooms wear off, 30 milligrams of the opioid oxycodone, but otherwise his prescription drug intake has drastically decreased.

Todd asked me not to use his real name, fearful that his health insurance provider could sever benefits because he uses illicit substances. But his doctors are aware and supportive of his psychedelic drug use, he says, which may legally exempt him under the federal Right To Try Act for terminally ill patients, signed by President Trump last May.

Indeed, magic mushrooms are having a therapeutic moment. In North America, at least four organizations, each with unique strategies, are working to expand access to psilocybin for anyone with mental health issues, dying or not. These groups hope to undo decades of psilocybin prohibition by removing criminal penalties for possession or cultivation, or by providing access to psilocybin in a therapist’s offices, or both.

They cite a small but growing body of research suggesting psychedelic drugs can, in fact, be medically beneficial with low potential for addiction or abuse. Some small studies suggest that psilocybin can alleviate obsessive-compulsive disorder, treatment-resistant depression, end-of-life anxiety, addiction, cluster headaches, and, yes, relieve pain. There’s also growing evidence that ingesting the drug can promote optimism and prosocial and mystical worldviews, and nurture well-being.