Mush Love, From Mom

By Dena Wilson, Psychedelic Info Line Volunteer Navigator

Hi. My name is Dena, and I eat magic mushrooms.

Hi.  My name is Dena, and I eat magic mushrooms.  This is a sentence I never thought I would be saying at 47 years old.  I am a mom of a beautiful little girl with epilepsy and autism.  My life is complicated and messy and stressful and beautiful and magical.  If you would have told me five years ago (or shoot, even one year ago!) that I would be ingesting magic mushrooms on the regular, I would have laughed in your face.

Here I am sitting down to write my very first blog about psilocybin microdosing and thinking about how much things have changed in less than twelve months.  I vividly remember about a year ago sitting around the kitchen table listening intently as some incredibly sharp mothers I’m friends with discussed their psilocybin doses, strains and protocols. I had so many questions.  These moms are the outside-the-box types.  They were not sitting there talking about going to the grocery store and picking up some Lions Mane.  They were talking about that same stuff that the hippies in my little town used to eat, barf, and go out into the woods giggling and tripping balls.  How is this even the real world?

The Fear That Stuck to My Ribs

I remembered my Mom giving me the patented Nancy Reagan “Just Say No!” talks back in the day.  One particular short, albeit, very powerful talk sounded something like this: “Your Aunt took magic mushrooms once.  She sat in the corner crying because she had a bad trip!  Now how fun does that sound to you?”  I responded loudly, “Not at ALL fun!”  I was mortified. Holy moly!  I will definitely NEVER try THAT stuff!
I must have been a young teenager.  Those words my Mom said stuck to my ribs like thick, hearty oatmeal. This conversation kept me far, far away from all of those “trippy, dippy drugs” for the foreseeable future.  Until, you know, I turned 46.  Sounds logical, right?  That kitchen table talk with my super bright and beautiful girlfriends got me thinking again, giggling… I wonder what my Mom is thinking as she looks down upon this table from Heaven above.

Living with Lingering Anxiety

As special needs moms, we have this level of constant anxiety and fear that you just can’t shake.  I practice yoga,  I meditate,  I drink my water, I exercise,  and take my supplements.  I always try to do my best.  Despite my self care, that lingering anxiety just feels so crippling.  The fear.  It just teases me and makes me feel like I am going to have a heart attack at any given moment.  – I did not recognize that this moment at the table would be the catalyst of a beautiful healing journey.

Fear and Curiosity Collide

Questions started flooding my brain.  What if…?  If I have learned anything from this group of women it is this: ASK QUESTIONS!  There are no answers to be found if we do not ask. I remembered my Mom’s harsh warning. I am already so close to feeling like I am going to break into a billion pieces, what if this sends me off somewhere into an orbit that I cannot return from?”

The First Micro-Microdose

My friends had logical, insightful and research-driven answers to back up all of my concerns.  All of my “what if’s” were sort of melting away into an entirely new line of questions and statements like:  Could this really HELP me heal?, Where and how exactly do I start this?,   I am afraid of feeling TOO much. I am terrified of feeling out of control of myself and what little control I now have.” Here, though, is where we got to the real meat and potatoes, err, mushrooms, of this journey.

My trusted friend (with a trusted mushroom source) told me she would help me to begin in such a way that I wouldn’t even NOTICE that I had taken a microdose.  Her goal for me was to feel nothing. The fear of the unknown would be known. Palpable. I could create an opportunity to move forward.

She brought me capsules that were smaller than a micro dose – this was my understanding of the little baggie of clear, vegan capsules full of powder.  The next day, I opened my baggie with a protocol written in Sharpie on the outside.  “Report back and let me know how it goes!”, she said smiling as she hugged me and drove away.  She was calm, but excited.  I was excited, but calm.

No Melting Walls, Just Relief

I took this microdose kind of waiting for the blasts of color and melting walls or whatever madness I had heard of.  If I am being totally vulnerable, I was even afraid to TOUCH these capsules with my hands.  Would I see tracers if I touched these things?? Surely I will feel something.  I waited.  And waited.  And frankly, I forgot I was even waiting for anything. Hours passed and guess what… I had forgotten I took it.  No walls melting.  No panic attacks.  Actually… wait.  NO panic attacks??  That isn’t normal.  I made sure to go over notes in my head at the end of the day so that I could share with her my insights.

I felt… GOOD.  Was this what it was?  I felt more connected, grounded, and less anxious.  She had advised me to continue the protocol for a month at that same dose, and I did.  I reported feeling my clouds of anxiety, depression and that constant disconnected feeling between my mind and body were no longer at the forefront of my mind.

What’s Next? More Questions.

If this is what a micro-microdose is and deemed mainly undetectable to me perceptually, what would happen at a more therapeutic dose?  WAS this my therapeutic dose?  What about these “intentions” and “set” and “setting” they kept talking about?  That sure seems to be a super important part of this thing.
The fear that I had packed in a bag that I carried with me since the 80’s from that ONE little story my mom told me at the table, sure got lighter as I walked back to the drawing board.

Volume Two: Stay Tuned!

Now it’s time to pack your bags, because this Mom is inviting you further on her journey.

Mush Love,
Mom