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My Awakening… by Simone Dowding

Here I was a successful entrepreneur living a millionaire lifestyle. I had made it! Or so I thought. But something was missing. I didn’t feel the happiness that I’d been promised by society. I felt lied too, that I’d been somehow tricked.  The success, I had valued and strived my whole life for, had left me empty and in a marriage that had died in the process. I don’t think anyone can describe the loss of a marriage. The loss of the family you had always wished for, the loss of everything you essentially knew, the look of despair in your children’s eyes, the dreams you had created together. Your combined friends, family and memories.  They all disappear. In the midst of all the trauma, change and never-ending tears something else dawns on you too.

I am now…alone.

In my aloneness, I grew afraid. The world had lost all meaning and I felt completely disconnected from everyone and everything. Nothing bought me joy and I was trapped in extreme suicidal ideations that left me unable to work and be social. My family was unable to understand me, and I was gradually losing all my friendships. Leaving me more disconnected and isolated. For 3 years I struggled through, tortured by my thoughts and grief. I went to every western Doctor and tried various medications that made my symptoms worse. Then I tried yogis, naturopaths, psychics, body somatic work, acupuncture, counselling, hypnosis and meditation. I even went vegan and moved to the beaches of Byron Bay. You name it, I did it. I was desperate!

Synchronistically, in a yoga class, I met a girl that had just come back from the Amazon and said she had been healed of her depression.  She told me that what I was experiencing, in shamanic terms, was what can only be described as a ‘dark night of the soul’ and that the mystics before me spoke of an experience that is likened to a deep spiritual depression or existential crisis that was necessary to live an authentic life.  They saw it as an initiation. A rebirth. A transformation from the old self into a profoundly liberated state and new way of being in the world. Could this explain my intense and prolonged suffering? The reason why I’d divorced, why I’d lost everything?  At last, I felt understood, I felt hope, I felt called into something greater.

Within 3 months, I was sitting in the Peruvian jungle at the feet of a renowned and very powerful shaman.

The Amazon is not an easy place to be. But It’s hauntingly beautiful with the most ancient lush green trees. The tallest I’ve ever seen. With beautiful hummingbirds and colourful butterflies that land on your arms. You are also dangerously aware that there’s anacondas, tarantulas and piranha around too. But I had nothing to lose, because I already felt dead. So what was there to be afraid of?

I was wrong.

I was living with an indigenous tribe in very poor conditions. The shaman spoke no English but was so welcoming and kind. He told me in Spanish that my spirit was very sick and my energies needed to be realigned. I had ceremonies in which he sung icaros (their magical songs) and gave me various plant medicines including Ayahuasca (the vine of the soul). The first night was one of the most frightening nights of my life. I was confronted with all my grief and trauma and challenged to find my power within it. I felt the shaman and medicine, training me to be strong, resilient and face all my fears. I’d had an initiation that was sacred and profound.  I felt new, clean, strong. Most importantly, I had been given the ability to dream again. I could actually see a future. I had direction, I had hope. I was ready to dream my new life into being.

But the greatest gift of all was that I wanted to live.

Words can’t describe the sense of freedom and possibilities that I now felt. I realised the key to my mental and spiritual health was the complete letting go of my old life, past, ancestral history, culture, trauma and subconscious programming.  It was more than a psychological healing though. I had awakened into something new. It was like choosing the red pill in the matrix.

“You take the blue pill—the story ends, you wake up in your bed and believe whatever you want to believe. You take the red pill—you stay in Wonderland, and I show you how deep the rabbit hole goes. Remember: all I’m offering is the truth. Nothing more”. Morpheus

I’d chosen a different path to others. I wanted the TRUTH. It was a far cry from Western medicine and taking a pill to fix things quickly.  I don’t believe in a happiness pill. There is no such thing. I’d worked hard for my mental health. I’d fought hard for my life. And it was all without a doubt for my 2 boys. I had to get well for them. The greatest loves of my life.

My way is not for everybody. I’d searched for my own truth, and worked out what was true for me. In the process, I was profoundly connected with something greater than myself. The realisation had dawned on me that I was never ……alone. It really was a divine journey that had been orchestrated by a divine force to lead me back to my authentic self, to bring me home.

How lucky am I, how blessed to have taken this path that others would traditionally interpret as a descent into mental illness. It was far from that!! I’d reconnected with life, humanity, my divine purpose. I guess it’s in times of crisis that we finally yield and discover who we really are.  I have a peaceful acceptance of my past now, as painful as it was, and I realise that nothing happened by accident. I see clearly now why I had to go through that suffering. I felt like a warrior returning from war into a bright, new world filled with possibilities.

On my return from the Amazon I worked for World Vision Australia as Head of Social Enterprise, which enabled me to economically empower women globally.  I was then voted in the top 50 Business People of the Year in Australia by Inside Business magazine for my contribution to humanity. I am currently CEO of a national organisation and a guest lecturer for Monash University. Most importantly I am a loving and present mum to my two gorgeous boys.

Big love Sim

On the Need for a Bioethics of Psychedelic Psychotherapy: A Few Preliminary Challenges By Eddie Jacobs

Psychotherapy assisted by psilocybin, a naturally occurring compound in ‘magic mushrooms’, has recently received ‘Breakthrough Therapy’ status from the FDA, in recognition of the substantial benefits witnessed in clinical trials investigating treatment-resistant depression. A number of trials of psilocybin-assisted therapy are also underway for major depressive disorder, one of the most significant causes of disability worldwide (1), and the modality has the potential to support the long-term cessation of tobacco- addiction to which kills some 5,000,000 people per year – more effectively than any other available treatment (2). As such, it seems certain that therapy assisted by psilocybin and other psychedelics will receive significant interest from the biotechnology sector, psychiatry research and public health policy over the coming years.

However, for all its apparent promise, psychedelic-assisted psychotherapy remains extremely under-researched from a bioethical perspective. This is a serious shortcoming, and with licensing around the corner, it is now also an urgent problem. Against the backdrop of regular healthcare, the experience of psychedelic-assisted psychotherapy, its mechanisms of action, and its downstream consequences, are all pretty unusual. So perhaps unsurprisingly, pre-existing bioethical accounts of mental health treatments are challenged by this new treatment along a number of directions.

A full account of potential ethical challenges embedded in psychedelic-assisted psychotherapy, and a clear articulation of the clinical and policy choices that can defuse these challenges, will be a vital component in establishing psychedelic-assisted psychotherapy within the mainstream of healthcare.  The clinical promise of psychedelics is only part of the story – the success of a technology or treatment depends not just on its efficacy, but also on a slew of social facets of the culture it is embedded in. Not only do we want to have our ethical house in order before there is widespread uptake of psychedelic psychotherapy, but getting the ethics right will also facilitate widespread uptake.

Suppose we forge ahead without deep, critical ethical engagement, and we overlook something that we could have fixed, that leaves patients feeling let down, violated, or otherwise not properly considered. Not only would that amount to a failure of a physician’s duty of care, it would cost the psychedelic psychotherapy movement itself: maybe the loss of the public goodwill that has been so hard to build, maybe a series of litigation actions that make treatment providers, insurers, and decision-makers in other jurisdictions considerably less enthusiastic about facilitating psychedelic psychotherapy, ultimately meaning that many other people who could benefit would miss out. By seeking out potential problems now, and thinking about how to manage or accommodate them, we thereby minimise these risks.

A useful prism through which to understand some of these bioethical challenges is the tranche of unusual, non-clinical ‘side-effects’ of psychedelic experiences. Alongside the target clinical effect, psychedelic experiences can increase prosocial disposition, affect attitudes towards death, enhance aesthetic appreciation and improve patients’ sense of personal well-being and life satisfaction (3,4,5,6). Perhaps most interestingly, they can induce mystical experiences of long-lasting spiritual significance (7), and produce robust changes to religious belief (8) and personality (9,10). Such experiences appear to be a feature, rather than a bug, of psychedelic psychotherapy, with the intensity of the mystical experience correlating with the extent of clinical benefit. Of potentially wider significance, they might cause long-term changes to political values and, perhaps, behaviours (3, 11).

The focus on the therapeutic potential of psilocybin-assisted therapy has meant that the significance of these non-clinical outcomes has been underestimated. But their importance could hardly be overstated: even where psilocybin-assisted psychotherapy proves an effective treatment, participants can report this clinical success as one of the least important effects of the experience, when compared to the other changes (6). Given the unique power that this treatment has to influence facets of a patient’s character that cut to the very core of their identity, it is imperative that the breadth of its potential impact is carefully and critically examined. With the knowledge of these changes, clinicians who conduct psychedelic-assisted psychotherapy are knowingly changing people in a fundamental sense, far beyond the bounds that are usually seen within medicine.

The reflexive response to such ‘side-effects’ from some strains of medical ethics would be to square them away by appeal to the dominance of autonomously given, informed consent: so long as a patient is adequately briefed of the possible consequences of a treatment, their decision to continue with a treatment is conclusive. But the intuitive understanding of informed consent faces a number of challenges with psychedelic-assisted psychotherapy. The superficial challenge is that the very nature of the mystical experience induced by psychedelics runs contrary to the mainstream understanding of informed consent. A core characteristic of mystical experiences is that they are ineffable – inexpressible or incomprehensible in linguistic terms. Insofar as patient briefing takes place linguistically, securing informed consent will not be straightforward.The deeper problem with understanding informed consent in the context of psychedelic medicines, is to find a secure standpoint from which to make judgments of autonomy.  Commonplace advice to people considering whether to undertake a medical intervention, is to choose whichever option leads to a better quality of life, all things considered. But judgments about quality of life are necessarily dependent on a system of values, and values themselves can be changed by psychedelic-assisted psychotherapy. If you know your perspective on life may radically change following psilocybin, how do you adjudicate between your current evaluation of prospective quality of life after psilocybin, and your likely post-psilocybin evaluation of quality of life after treatment? (12) This is not a mere philosophical puzzle. How might we counsel a prospective patient considering psilocybin-assisted therapy who has debilitating depression and is a fervently proud, card-carrying materialist atheist. From this patient’s perspective, coming out of treatment believing in God or some sense of Ultimate Reality may be more horrendous to consider than continued clinical suffering. But, were this patient to proceed with treatment and have a religion-inducing ‘God-encounter experience’ (8), they would not have nearly as negative an evaluation of this newfound belief, after the fact.

With the non-clinical changes following psilocybin administration come questions of authenticity, self-conception, and self-development. Psychedelics are far from the first treatment to challenge these notions in psychiatry. The expansion of SSRI prescription in the 1990s led to worries about ‘cosmetic psychopharmacology’ and patients ‘losing themselves’ to Prozac (13,14) . The personality characteristics and outlooks that develop in users of SSRIs do not truly belong to them, it is argued, given their lack of connection to the patient’s overall narrative arc and  environment (14). Prima facie, some drivers of change seem more authentic than others. Changes that come about from slower-acting, experiential factors (a period of missionary work, the raising of a child) seem intuitively more plausibly ‘authentic’ than those that come about by faster acting, exogenous, artificial factors clearly linked to neurological disruption (a railroad spike through the left frontal lobe, a six week course of SSRIs). But psychedelic-assisted psychotherapy refuses categorisation under this schema. Although the changes are detectable rapidly, and come about following the administration of a drug with a dramatic acute and post-acute effect on brain function (15,16), psychedelic experiences are, nonetheless, experiences. Indeed, they are experiences that tend to be ranked among the most meaningful in a patient’s life (3), making them more credible candidates for authentically cohering with, or indeed shaping, the narrative arc of a patient’s life. Further exploration and elaboration of these ideas, as well as being philosophically interesting, can usefully feed into public narratives about the meaning and significance of clinically administered psychedelic experiences: it is a strange medical treatment indeed that returns patients to their loved ones not only freed from their tobacco addiction, but also with a perceptibly different personality, a penchant for spending time in nature and art galleries, and a newfound spirituality (2, 6). A clear articulation of the authenticity of these changes, if they can be understood as a natural and comprehensible expression of continuity, rather than an exogenously-imposed transfiguration, could serve to assuage suspicion or mistrust of psychedelic medicine among patients’ loved ones, and the wider public.

These are just a few of the surprising ethical quandaries that lurk within psychedelic medicine. While some of the challenges may seem theoretical or philosophical, the sharp end of each of them is to be found in the clinic, requiring sincere and critical reflection on the part of the psychedelic research community, and perhaps ultimately incorporated into the soon-to-be-expanding training programmes for therapists.

 

By Eddie Jacobs

 

References

1.     https://www.who.int/news-room/fact-sheets/detail/depression

2.     Johnson, M. W., Garcia-Romeu, A., & Griffiths, R. R. (2017). Long-term follow-up of psilocybin-facilitated smoking cessation. The American journal of drug and alcohol abuse, 43(1), 55-60.

3.     Griffiths, R. R., Johnson, M. W., Carducci, M. A., Umbricht, A., Richards, W. A., Richards, B. D., …& Klinedinst, M. A. (2016). Psilocybin produces substantial and sustained decreases in depression and anxiety in patients with life-threatening cancer: A randomized double-blind trial. Journal of psychopharmacology, 30(12), 1181-1197.

4.     Ross, S., Bossis, A., Guss, J., Agin-Liebes, G., Malone, T., Cohen, B., … & Su, Z. (2016). Rapid and sustained symptom reduction following psilocybin treatment for anxiety and depression in patients with life-threatening cancer: a randomized controlled trial. Journal of psychopharmacology, 30(12), 1165-1180.

5.     Garcia-Romeu, A., R Griffiths, R., & W Johnson, M. (2014). Psilocybin-occasioned mystical experiences in the treatment of tobacco addiction. Current drug abuse reviews, 7(3), 157-164.

6.     Noorani, T., Garcia-Romeu, A., Swift, T. C., Griffiths, R. R., & Johnson, M. W. (2018). Psychedelic therapy for smoking cessation: qualitative analysis of participant accounts. Journal of Psychopharmacology, 32(7), 756-769.

7.     Doblin, R. (1991). Pahnke’s “Good Friday experiment”: A long-term follow-up and methodological critique. Journal of Transpersonal Psychology, 23(1), 1-28.

8.     Griffiths, R., Hurwitz, E. S., Davis, A. K., Johnson, M. W., & Jesse, R. (2019). Survey of  subjective” God encounter experiences”: Comparisons among naturally occurring experiences and those occasioned by the classic psychedelics psilocybin, LSD, ayahuasca, or DMT. PloS one, 14(4), e0214377.

9.     MacLean, K., Johnson, M., & Griffiths, R. (2011). Mystical experiences occasioned by the hallucinogen psilocybin lead to increases in the personality domain of openness. Journal of Psychopharmacology, 25(11), 1453-1461.

10.  Erritzoe, D., Roseman, L., Nour, M. M., MacLean, K., Kaelen, M., Nutt, D. J., & Carhart‐Harris, R.L. (2018). Effects of psilocybin therapy on personality structure. Acta Psychiatrica Scandinavica,138(5), 368-378.

11.  Lyons, T., & Carhart-Harris, R. L. (2018). Increased nature relatedness and decreased authoritarian political views after psilocybin for treatment-resistant depression. Journal of Psychopharmacology, 32(7), 811-819.

12.  Schick, F. (1997). Making choices: A recasting of decision theory. Cambridge University Press.

13.  Kramer, P. D., & Kramer, P. D. (1994). Listening to prozac. London: Fourth Estate.

14.  Elliott, C. (1998). The tyranny of happiness: Ethics and cosmetic psychopharmacology. Enhancing human traits: Ethical and social implications, 177-188.

15.  Carhart-Harris, R. L., Erritzoe, D., Williams, T., Stone, J. M., Reed, L. J., Colasanti, A., … & Hobden, P. (2012). Neural correlates of the psychedelic state as determined by fMRI studies with psilocybin. Proceedings of the National Academy of Sciences, 109(6), 2138-2143.

16.  Carhart-Harris, R. L., Roseman, L., Bolstridge, M., Demetriou, L., Pannekoek, J. N., Wall, M. B., … & Leech, R. (2017). Psilocybin for treatment-resistant depression: fMRI-measured brain mechanisms. Scientific reports, 7(1), 13187.

 

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