For a long time I’ve been very interested in psychedelics and indigenous psychedelic medicine or as you may know them, drugs. I think it started sophomore year in my high school health class when they introduced acid. I didn’t know what acid was, but they said that it was something that you took that made you hear colors and see sounds. It sounded like the best thing that I’ve ever heard.

My first and only time I had ever used a psychedelic was a low dosage of mushrooms with a couple of my college buddies the week before senior year. It was a pretty good experience, but I think the dose was too low and I didn’t get any visions or too much profound insight. Other than that I hadn’t done anything. I drink, smoke weed from time to time and have done molly, ecstasy, a bit of coke and that’s pretty much it. Pretty normal. I felt like I missed my window to experiment with acid or any other psychedelics once I graduated from college. NYC doesn’t seem like the best place to do that.

My interest grew as time went on though. Peyote was on my radar after seeing The Simpson’s and The Soprano’s episode where the respective main character’s took the substance and had eye-opening and spiritually enriching experiences. I really wanted to try it after that, but Peyote isn’t easy to come by unless you grow it yourself, which takes years and years. I did have an opportunity to do something called ayahuasca when I was living in NYC though.

Ayahuasca is an Amazonian plant mixture that is capable of inducing altered states of consciousness, usually lasting between 4 to 8 hours after ingestion. Ranging from mildly stimulating to extremely visionary, ayahuasca is used primarily as a medicine and as a shamanic means of communication, typically in a ceremonial session under the guidance of an experienced drinker.

The main ingredient of this jungle tea is a vine, Banisteriopsis caapi, which like the tea itself is also called ayahuasca (which means ‘vine of the soul’ or ‘vine with a soul’). The secondary ingredient is either chacruna (Psychotria viridis) or chagropanga (Diplopterys cabrerana), plants that contain a relatively high amount of the psychedelic substance DMT. Ayahuasca is used extensively for healing and religious ceremonies. In recent decades, there is a growing interest in the said substance due to its potential in treating mental disorders like depression, anxiety, post-traumatic stress disorder and addiction.

taken from ayahuasca-Info

Someone I saw at a bunch of parties in NYC invited me to do an ayahuasca retreat with her and a few other people in a cabin somewhere. I had just learned about ayahuasca at that point. I considered it, but the thought of doing ayahuasca guided by some “shaman” who was probably some white kid with dreds, born in Connecticut didn’t resonate strongly with me. Fast forward a few years and I found myself backpacking in South America heading towards the birthplace of ayahuasca – the Amazon.

My motivations for doing ayahuasca or using any type of psychedelics hasn’t been just for fun. Ayahuasca isn’t a fun drug. It makes you purge, projectile vomit and/or have explosive diarrhea and the experiences can be euphoric and make you feel really good, but also tend to be very heavy and challenging. I’ve been interested in the concept of “mind-altering”, but have been even more attracted to the spiritual-growth and healing aspects.

During the early part of my trip, I was in Salento hanging out with some friends and there was this British girl that we all found captivating. Beyond being beautiful and charismatic, there seemed to be this spiritual assuredness and ease to her that really stood out. She was telling us all about her experiences with ayahuasca and the great things it did for her and at that moment, I decided that I was absolutely going to do it soon.

Months later while in Puerto Lopez, I finally signed up. I had been doing research for a while and had been speaking with a lot of different people and eventually found my retreat – a 10 day / 4 ceremony ayahuasca retreat at a center just outside of Iquitos, Peru.

Iquitos is the largest city in the world that is inaccessible by road. It has 250k people and is right smack in the jungle. It can only be reached by a 3-5 day boat ride through the Amazonian rivers or by plane. I originally was going to do the boat ride, but the logistics stressed me out, so I booked a round trip ticket from Tarapoto. I got to Peru towards the end of October. My retreat started in the middle of November, so I stayed in northern Peru, slowly making my way towards Iquitos.

Iquitos is only a 30-40 minute flight from Tarapoto. I got into the hot and humid Iquitos around 5pm the day before my retreat began and hopped into a mototaxi. While on my way to my hostel, I witnessed an accident. Some car hit this motorcycle that was carrying an entire family and drove off. Everyone seemed to be ok, including the helmetless mother who was cradling her infant in her arms, but I couldn’t help but feel disturbed from the incident. I took it as a bad omen.

The next day I woke up early and went to the retreat’s rendezvous point at this cafe/restaurant on the malecon. I got there and saw a Peruvian man dressed in a guide-like outfit speaking with two white people and suspected that that might be my group. I guessed correctly and introduced myself to everyone. We waited for the rest of the group while our guide told us about his experiences with ayahuasca. Eventually the rest of the group arrived. We were 6 – a couple from Australia, an Aussie/Canadian couple, a girl from France and me. We took a mototaxi to a boat. A boat to a mototaxi and finally arrived at our retreat.

The retreat space was huge. It had to be like 3-4 acres and was carved right out of the beautiful Amazon jungle. We checked in at the dining/meeting hall and were then shown our accommodations. They definitely beat my expectations. We each had our own cabin that included a full-sized bed, desk, closet, bathroom, large mosquito net and a hammock. After we dropped our stuff off in our cabins, we had lunch. It was practically gourmet despite only being from a diet of clean food. We consistently had really high quality meals throughout the retreat. After lunch they gave us a tour of the rest of grounds and we eventually reached the ceremony hall.

The ceremony hall was a circular, wooden cabin with a conic roof. Inside was a bit dark, even during the daytime. There were 4 candles at the center, surrounded by 10-12 twin-sized mattresses pushed up against the walls. In the front were a series of tables and chairs with various types of shamanistic apparati – cups, feathers, instruments, tools etc. The place seemed to have a lot of weight to it. You could feel a certain energy in there. After we finished our tour, we met the head shaman’s son (a shaman himself) to get an itinerary of our retreat and then were free to ourselves to prepare for our first ceremony, which was that night at 8.

I made my way towards the ceremony a little before 8 that evening. We all arrived at the ceremony hall around the same time. The atmosphere was pretty tense. It was dark, but for the aforementioned candles lit, with an eery glow. We all went to our chosen mattresses up against the walls and waited for our shamen to arrive.

After about 15 minutes of silence, the shamen arrived. There were four of them – for the six of us. They were dressed in long all-white traditional robes and one had a large canteen on his back, presumably filled with Ayahuasca. The head shaman went around and greeted all of us, while the others began setting up. His English was pretty limited, but he had enough to convey his warmth and charm. Once he finished greeting us, he joined the others in their preparation. Once they were ready, the shamen went around to check everyone’s pulse to see if we were ready. After that, they went around and applied some kind of liquid to our foreheads and the fronts and backs of our necks.

I was second to drink. The head shaman handed me this small wooden cup with about a shot’s worth of ayahuasca inside. I looked down at it. I was ready for this. I was excited. The experience I’ve sought after for most of my life was literally in the palm of my hands.

Before you drink, you’re supposed to speak with the ayahuasca. Ayahuasca isn’t just a drink, she’s an entity and she responds to you. You concentrate on your intentions, the reasons for taking ayahuasca and ask Mother Ayahuasca to show you the answers and heal you. After you feel ready, you look towards the shamen and say aloud, “salud”, which they return and then you drink. It didn’t taste so bad for a drink that was supposed to taste horribly. The best way I can describe it is like a smoothie made out of tree bark and pine-spiced BBQ sauce. After finishing it all in a single gulp, I handed the cup back to the Shaman and closed my eyes. He repeated the process with the remaining four in our group and then the ceremony officially began.

Ayahuasca takes about 15-20 minutes to kick in, so you’re just sitting there meditating on your intentions, trying to stay calm and quiet your mind. You can feel the ayahuasca inside of you, slowly traveling through your body, heading towards your stomach, where you can feel it sit. It’s as unsettling as it is nauseating. You can tell that ayahuasca wants to come out of you.

The shamen also drink ayahuasca with us and they’re able to connect to and influence our experiences. During the ceremony, the four of them would sing their songs in perfect synchronicity and harmony in a mix of Spanish and Quechua. They sang many different songs, but would also allow for periodic silences. They would also blow a lot of different types of smoke into the air, with smells I couldn’t place. Beyond that, they’d provide personal ceremonies on people who needed them.

I eventually began to feel the effects. It felt like a really strong weed high or maybe something closer to mushrooms. I felt pretty lucid. My mind floated between my different intentions and gave me little hints about them, but nothing major. It was very reflective and broad. It was also very positive and self-affirming. I felt mild euphoria throughout. I didn’t have any visions, although I “saw” lots of different terrains and textures and my memory was more vivid than normal. I didn’t purge much. Others in the group purged a lot and I was jealous because, purging is good. That’s how you release your toxins, both physical and spiritual. I did eventually purge about 3/4ths of the way in. I projectile vomited into the bucket next to my mattress for a little while. It was gentle, despite the relative intensity and cathartic. The whole first ceremony for me was positive, happy and slightly informative. It felt like a prelude. An introduction. It was a good experience, but I couldn’t help but feel slightly disappointed that I didn’t have any “breakthroughs”.

The ceremony took two hours in total and after, we had to head back to our cabins when we were ready and able. It took me awhile to steady myself. I felt pretty disoriented and walking was a challenge. Despite your mind being lucid, your body feels like it’s at its drunkest. I’ve had enough experiences walking home drunk, so I figured I could walk back myself, but I got lost pretty quickly and the guide had to show me the way back to my cabin and steady me from time to time. I got back and laid in the dark for hours afterwards, letting Mother Ayahuasca finish her work on me for the evening.

The next day I woke up feeling fresh and with a very high sense of well-being. I went to breakfast where we all recapped our experiences with the guide. The rest of the day was pretty tranquil. We had our three meals, spent time getting to know each other and went for a little walk in the jungle. There was no ayahuasca that day and none the next day either. We instead went on a boat ride to the Amazon river where we saw river dolphins and went to an indigenous village. We also went into Iquitos so that some people could pick up some necessities and/or cash. This took me out of my flow a bit. We went from being in a private ayahuasca retreat in the jungle to a large city like it was some normal day.

On day four we had our second ceremony. We had a meeting with the shamen that morning to discuss our previous experience and to let them know whether we wanted the same dose of ayahuasca, more or less. I wanted more. What’s the point of going all the way to the center of the Peruvian jungle, putting up all these expectations and paying all this money if I didn’t go 100% in? Mother Ayahuasca answered my challenge that night.

That night there was a full moon. It wasn’t just any full moon, it was a super moon – the largest seen in 70 years. I spent a lot of time in my room laying in the dark, basking in it and reflecting. I was more anxious this time and was trying to calm my mind. About an hour and a half before the ceremony, there was a powerful thunderstorm with an unrelenting, torrential downpour that lasted for an hour straight. It almost felt a bit supernatural in its force and timing. It let up right before I started to head over to the ceremony. I didn’t feel powerful this time. I didn’t feel as strong or as confident. I don’t know why, but I definitely felt a bit afraid.

We went through the same process as the previous ceremony and it was my turn to drink again. I asked ayahuasca to guide me with my intentions, show me enlightenment and to clear my negativity and then I cheersed and drank it down. This ayahuasca tasted worse. It was also thicker and I think I got double the dose of the last time. It was hard to get it all down.

Everything was going fine for a while. I wasn’t the first to purge. Someone near me did. I find gagging noises to be funny and I could feel a cheesy smile form on my face and almost betray an audible chuckle. Then all of a sudden I had this moment of damning clarity. I said to myself, “Justin, what the fuck is wrong with you? Take this shit seriously. You’re in the middle of the fucking jungle drinking fucking ayahuasca.” My trip started to pick up from there. I started purging a lot. It was weird. A negative thought, bad memory or anxiety would come up and I would vomit. It was very relieving, but then my trip took a darker turn. All of a sudden I was face-to-face with my darkest fear. The ayahuasca was more powerful this time and I didn’t have the control of last time. I was bombarded with unwanted thoughts and memories mixed with images of planets, visions and I saw recurring images of a dark, velvet panther that alternated in gradience of ferocity, vividness and texture. I heard buzzing noises. I heard the hisses of snakes. I also heard this kind of whispering that surrounded me and seemed like it was trying to communicate with me. It sounded like a more gentle Parseltounge from Harry Potter or what the Others sounded like in Lost. It sounded unmistakably feminine though. Eventually, I found myself curling up into the fetal position, smaller and smaller. The guide saw me and rushed over and told me to drink my water, which I did before I plunged. Then I had to lay down. The visions were too much and my memory started erasing a bit there. The shamen came over to me several times to save me with a personal ceremony. I also felt a jaguar licking my feet. The combination was able to calm me down. Eventually the ceremony was over. I was the last to get up. I tried to stand up and walk it off, but I couldn’t. I had to lean on the guide for support for most of the walk back. I also wasn’t done purging either. I had to throw up a few more times, but that was mostly dry-heaving at that point. I eventually made it to my room after a 10 minute walk that felt like an eternity. I purged more, hopped into the shower and eventually made it to bed, although I couldn’t fall asleep.

I felt terrible that morning, but forced myself up to head over to breakfast anyways. I got there and three others were there already. They were talking about their experiences. I was shrouded in a cloud of negativity and didn’t want to tell them about my horror story from last night and just listened to what they said. Then I found out others had similarly really difficult experiences and we all talked about it and started to laugh and connect. I was still grim, but at least I could laugh at it. We agreed that the worst was over and hopefully our experiences would turn positive and life-changing from there, but things didn’t take a turn in the direction that I wanted.

Shortly after breakfast I started to completely lose my memory and awareness. From this point on I only have scraps of my memory for the last 5 days of my retreat. I didn’t just lose my short-term memory, it was long-term memory too. I didn’t even know who, what, where, why or how I was. I also lost touch with reality. Nothing felt real. I spoke with the head shaman. I don’t really remember much of what he said, but luckily one of my friends transcribed the conversations and that was really helpful. The head shaman said that when the ayahuasca works very deeply on a person, it can blind them and put their memory into capsules.

I had two more ceremonies. The third one I didn’t drink any Ayahuasca, but I was still there and they did a special ceremony for only me to help my memory, which was basically dousing my entire head in some kind of liquid and smoke and sang me personal songs. I also had a fourth ceremony where I drank a little bit of Ayahuasca, but I don’t remember any of that trip, which is frustrating. It was so surreal. Nothing felt real. I had no idea where I was. I had no idea who I was. I had no idea what I was doing. I just slept it off mostly though. I at least knew that I was in a safe place and that I could sleep. My friends from the retreat and the people who ran the ceremony were very helpful and took really good care of me as well. They would check up on me a lot and make sure I was safe and I am very thankful for that.

I would have blips of clarity from time-to-time. I would remember facts about myself. I remembered Donald Trump was going to be president. I would also look through my pictures and read through old journals to help with my memory, but nothing felt real despite a slight familiarity. It felt like I was in a dream, in some alternate universe or dead and stuck in purgatory.

I had minimal awareness of the passage of time, but the retreat finally came to an end and we all split ways. I told the guide that I had a flight that day to Lima, so he escorted me to the airport. I don’t know why I told him that, because I didn’t have a flight to Lima. I had an extra night booked in a hostel in Iquitos and I had a flight back to Tarapoto, where I stored my keyboard the following day. It was nice to be in motion after five days spent mostly in my room though. I felt slightly alive.

He took me to the airport and provided me with some food and drinks. He then tried to check me into my nonexistent flight. Apparently there was a flight to Lima, but it was a couple of hours later though. I had to wait there for it.

I felt like I was in some kind of artificial simulation. I thought it might’ve been my brain recreating everything, a dream and/or purgatory. I wasn’t really sure what would “work”, and what wouldn’t. I didn’t really expect anything to work for me. It was kinda like if you’re playing a videogame and you see a door. Some doors work because you’re supposed to go through them, but others just look like doors, but they aren’t real and you can’t use them. They’re just there. That’s how I felt with everything. It also felt kinda like I was an android in Westworld who realized that he was stuck in a meaningless loop and lacked the agency to do anything about it.

I just sat there for about an hour in the airport waiting for this fake flight. Nothing was real and nothing mattered. I was stuck and couldn’t move. I just sat in the same spot like an impotent ghost, watching this artificial reality take place in front of me. I didn’t know what I was doing in the airport. I didn’t think airplanes would work in purgatory. Even if planes worked, my keyboard was still in Tarapoto where I originally booked my flight back.

I didn’t think it would work, but I saw a mototaxi at the front of the airport. I went through the glass doors and got in. I just told him to drive. I wanted to go to the hostel that I booked when I was still alive, but had no capacity to navigate or even communicate and I wasn’t even sure if that hostel existed anymore. We drove around aimlessly for like a half an hour at least and he eventually dropped me off at a random hostel, frustrated with my incompetence. I got there and booked a room. I got in my room and tried to sleep, but the room was shitty, way too noisy and I didn’t feel comfortable, so I just packed up all of my stuff and left right away. I didn’t even bother asking for my money back. I hopped into another mototaxi. I told him to get me to the hostel I was looking for earlier and he didn’t have a clue where that was either. We were just driving around for a really long time. Iquitos is a big place. I eventually just started giving him arbitrary directions – randomly saying, “izquierda”, “derecha” or “derecho”. Eventually he gave up and so did, so I just told him to take me to a nice hotel in the city’s center. He took me to a hotel. It wasn’t that nice, but it would do. I still didn’t think any of it was real and that I was trapped in limbo, so I just didn’t care. I got in my room and laid in bed. I turned on the tv, but I thought all the shows were fake, simulations. They made no sense, but I tried watching them anyways until I drifted off to sleep. I slept for 12-14 hours.

I woke up early the next day. I knew I had a flight that day and should get there on the off-chance that this wasn’t really purgatory. I woke up early, showered and went to get breakfast. I found some bakery and got two large packages of bread and a chocolate cupcake, because why not? I took a bite into the cupcake. I was surprised that I could taste it. I thought it was fake, but it tasted amazing still. After my “breakfast” I tried to walk back to my hotel. I of course got lost. I just arbitrarily went into buildings for a while. I didn’t really believe my hotel existed and that it didn’t matter anyways. Somehow I was able to find my hotel though. I went up to my room to pack my belongings and then checked out. I got a mototaxi outside of my hotel and asked him to take me to the airport. The motion made me feel a bit alive again. I remember seeing the city and thinking about how nice it looked and thinking that it was such a shame that I was dead.

I eventually got to the airport. I had no idea what time my flight was. I just went there and got in line. The guy who was checking bags told me that I was standing in line for the wrong flight. My flight left at 6pm. It was 11am at that point. I just found a seat and sat there and sat and sat. At that point my memory was pretty much fully back and I knew who I was and was aware of everything, but I thought I was dead. I eventually went to the only restaurant inside the little airport and got food. I didn’t think it would work, but figured I should try anyways. To my surprise, after I ordered, I got food and I ate it. That too tasted almost… real. I then went back to sitting for a while. I arbitrarily went to stand in line again even though no one else was there and it wasn’t even close to 6. I still couldn’t really communicate well, so I didn’t bother asking anyone. I just stood there for like 30 minutes with my heavy backpack leaned up against my leg, growing frustrated. I eventually asked someone about my flight and they said the same thing that the guy said earlier. I then went back to sit down. I didn’t think it’d work, but I tried listening to my Spotify. Again, I thought everything was fake, so I didn’t expect it to work, but I figured I’d do an experiment and test the limitations of this fake world I was stuck in. I listened to a song that I knew pretty well. Surprisingly it worked and sounded authentic, but I thought it was my brain recreating the entire song from memory. I then expanded my tests and tried songs I knew less well. They worked too. I was skeptical though, because sometimes my Spotify wouldn’t play when I clicked on certain songs, so I was confused, but I was very grateful to at least have some music back in my life. That made death a bit more tolerable.

Eventually, I had this moment of clarity that told me that something wasn’t right at all and I had to get home immediately. I’d figure out the whole keyboard situation later. That wasn’t a priority. I was in trouble and I needed to get home. I went up to this lady at the ticket kiosk and told her I wanted a flight back to New York. My communication abilities and mental faculties were low and it was a struggle, but after like 20 minutes we figured it out. It was pretty expensive, but I didn’t care. Nothing was real. I was dead. What’s money to a dead person? How much is a dollar really worth? I got a flight from Iquitos to Lima, Lima to Miami and Miami to Newark.

After that I went to eat another meal. Music and food were the only things that were somewhat real to me and I hadn’t really eaten for like 5 days, so I indulged. The restaurant had internet. I wasn’t really ready to open that Pandora’s box yet, but something in me told me that I needed to tell my mom that I was going home. I turned on the wi-fi and saw that she sent me an email, worried of course. I didn’t really read it, but sent a cryptic response that I was coming home. She had absolutely zero expectations of this. She didn’t even think that I was going to come back home for Christmas at all. After that, I finished my beef lasagna and strawberry smoothie and went to sit for another 2-3 hours before my flight.

To be honest, I have no fucking clue how I made it from the middle of the Peruvian jungle to cross international borders and arrive in the US in that state of mind, but somehow I did. I can’t help but believe it was some form of divine intervention. Maybe it was Mother Ayahuasca cradling me in her arms. I was aware of everything going around me, but nothing was real to me and I didn’t trust anything. I was completely disconnected from reality and completely ineffectual at everything. It was a very, very frustrating experience. Nothing worked well and I got easily lost and confused a lot.

I somehow eventually made it to Newark at like 5 or 6 at night the following day and was originally going to try to catch a bus to Massachusetts, but I just couldn’t handle it. I hopped in a cab and told him to take me to a Holiday Inn. I figured there must be one around somewhere. I got to a Holiday Inn and booked a room. I stayed there for 4 nights, incubating. I lied and told my mom and family that I was really sick and I couldn’t possibly travel home yet. I didn’t want anyone I knew to see me like that and I needed to be alone to recover. All I did was sleep, watch TV, eat terrible food and mourn my death. I was still convinced that I was stuck in limbo and I wasn’t ever going to leave. My surroundings certainly didn’t help. I was surrounded by nothing but an airports, parking lots, hotels, highways, trains and car rental places – a traveler’s purgatory.

I slowly started getting better. I started watching TV on the second day. I was deeply analyzing the TV shows, seeing if the humor, the plot, the characters and the themes were logically consistent with each other. I figured if I could prove that none of it made any sense, then that was just further evidence that I was dead and maybe I could find some sort of peace. Things started getting more logical though. It didn’t seem likely that I was recreating entire television shows in my head. Songs maybe, but not TV shows or movies. Beyond that, anytime I saw a number or any type of calculation, I’d mentally check it to see if it was correct. My mind was still pretty sharp for some reason. I also monitored the passage of time and any prices I saw to see if they were within reason. I still didn’t feel like anything was real though. I eventually ventured to the internet. Most of it didn’t make sense though, although I was mainly looking at reddit and reading about Trump’s cabinet appointments, which were equally absurd. I thought I was stuck in Newark forever, but bought an Amtrack train back to Boston anyways. The next day I somehow made it on the right train and all the way back to home to Boston. My mom was waiting for me right as I got off the train in South Station. I was home, but I didn’t think any of it was real despite how familiar everything felt.

After a full day of doing nothing, I figured I’d do some further tests. I was watching a TV show and checking each episode against its episode summary and trying to catch inconsistencies. There were none. That seemed real. Everything started to seem pretty real. Home felt like home and everything felt familiar. Then I looked at all the messages that I ignored for the past two weeks and sent a message to someone and she responded. That felt real. Then I remembered that I had a piece of paper with the contact info of some of the other people who were on my retreat. I added one on facebook to see what would happened and shortly after she added me back and reached out to me. We then had a long conversation and I checked my memories versus what she said. Then it all hit me at once and everything clicked. I finally snapped back to reality. This was all at like 1:30-2AM. All this made me see reality again. I didn’t go to sleep that night. My mind was racing. I was alive again!

A massive wave of relief came over me when I came back to life. For like 7-9 days, I had been mourning my death. I was going through my memories, my pictures, my facebook and just mourning my past. My life was awesome, not perfect, but I had a lot going for me and then all of a sudden I was dead, stuck in limbo, seemingly forever, before my time.

Do I regret it? Right now, not at all. My abrupt odyssey back home was costly and didn’t come without its complications, but now that I know I’m not dead, as cliché as it sounds, I feel reborn and what better place to be reborn than at home, with your mother, with your family and with your friends? I feel better than ever. It’s a few weeks later and I still feel amazing. My sense of well-being has never been higher. I feel so optimistic. I can’t recall ever experiencing this type of happiness for such an extended period of time. I’ve been plagued with chronic depression since puberty and anxiety since my early 20s. All of that is… gone. My desire to drink is greatly diminished. I haven’t had any caffeine in over a month and a half. My mind is sharper than ever. My decision-making ability has improved. I also feel a great deal of synchronicity. On top of all of that, I have this strong pull towards doing good in the world.

My experience might turn a lot of people off from Ayahuasca and other similar substances. They aren’t for everyone, but I do think they’d benefit everyone. My experience was very atypical. No one else in my group experienced anything similar and from all accounts I’ve read, this hasn’t happened. Maybe I’m more prone to whatever happened to me during my experience than others. A lot of drugs have uses to treat a lot of things that are plaguing society. Ayahuasca, mushrooms, LSD, MDMA have been known to greatly help people dealing with mental disorders and addictions and possibly cure these illnesses. These are two problems that are grossly overlooked by modern-day society. I think a lot of people could greatly benefit from these substances if our society would just open our mind up about them and start studying them more thoroughly. A lot of the medicinal drugs that western society use, just treat problems. They aren’t focused on curing them. Big Pharma is a business, even if it is in a more altruistic field than other industries. They have incentive to make drugs that people have to take for the rest of their lives. How would they make money otherwise?

Ayahuasca is clearly not something to fuck with. Ayahuasca is alive. Before you drink her, you ask Mother Ayahuasca for what you want and she gives you what you need. Maybe I needed what happened to me. I wanted to face my darkest fears. I wanted to cleanse. I wanted to see my path. I wanted to see the Matrix. Mother Ayahuasca gave me more than I could handle at the time and it took me awhile to digest, but it was for the best. Ayahuasca has many names. One is the Vine of Death. She showed me death and she showed me life and now… I feel better than ever.

– Gib