Finding My Authentic Self With Psychedelics

I was always too afraid to be me, until psychedelics showed me the way.

Photo by Jeremy Bishop on Unsplash

The clouds were cotton candy against a Toy Story blue sky, their soft pillowy edges stained a pastel pink. I inhaled lungfuls of mountain air, my heart beating loud and strong beneath my breastbone.

There was bliss in this, a sacred moment full of music and mountains and sunsets and true wholeness. A joy unlike any my heart had ever known.

If it wasn’t for psychedelics, I am sure I would be dead. Instead, there I was, following my true path.

The Home that Made Me

My childhood was full of deep scars and harsh words, belt-whippings and anxious insomniac nights, screams through the wall, and pill bottles rattling.

I created my own worlds instead, realizing the outer one was too nerve-wracking to bear most days.

I lost myself in between the pages of thick books, in the stories I made up for my stuffed animals, in the TV shows that portrayed all of the strength a woman can bear. I pulled myself forward, inch by inch.

I always knew that the constant struggle had set me apart from others, but I didn’t really get why. Parents are hard on children, and I couldn’t be the…