Micro and Macrodosing Mushrooms

DT-XXIV: I read some of the research about psychedelics as a depression treatment

Photo by Jaap Straydog on Unsplash

The first time I tried psychedelics, the grass under my feet seemed to breathe, to ebb and flow like the surface of the sea. There was a firm breeze moving the trees, but then they paused, like they were frozen in time and then, almost cheekily, started again. The hills rolled like waves. 

I was in a park with my best friend and I was going on my first trip. I got the sense that the entire planet was alive beneath my feet. And not only that—it was happy to be alive. Almost welcoming. Thus, I should be happy to be alive, happy to be here, feet planted in the earth. 

It didn’t surprise me at all when I heard that psychiatrists are finally considering psilocybin, the active ingredient in “magic mushrooms,” as a treatment for depression. 

I met a guy named Giovani¹ on Grindr. He’s bisexual, but married, and honestly, honestly, honestly just looking for friends. We grabbed a beer together once and had a great conversation. We had a lot in common: we were both depressed, we both liked beer, and we both had an interest in psychedelics.

“My wife introduced me to [psychedelics],” Gio tells me in a text,² “and she told me they would help with my depression and mood swings.” He thought she was joking at first, but he quickly learned that it was a real thing, and it really helped real people. 

Researchers at John Hopkins found that just two doses of psilocybin paired with supportive talk therapy led to “large, stable and enduring antidepressant effects through a year of follow-up,” in a group of adults with a history of depression. 

Three quarters of the group had an antidepressant response, and more than half were in remission for their depression, according to the Center for Psychedelic and Consciousness Research at John Hopkins. 

For Gio, his small microdoses of psilocybin help him get through the day. They deafen what he calls the “bad parts” and they give him a boost of energy. They make his body feel light. “I tend to feel a bit lightheaded after the effects wear off, but not too bad,” he texts. 

This study from the Journal of Affective Disorders reviewed seven studies of ayahuasca, psilocybin and LSD for treating depression, anxiety, or both. Across the seven studies patients saw the same significant and immediate effects, with only mild side effects such as nausea or slightly higher blood pressure. 

But all of those psychedelics are still considered controlled substances, so the body of research is quite thin (hence only 130 patients across seven studies being analyzed). However, in the 1960s, scientists published more than 1000 papers about psychedelics and their potential for treatment. This research ended when the FDA banned the substance. 

Currently, the dominant antidepressants are Selective Serotonin Reuptake Inhibitors (SSRIs). I’m on prozac, and my buddy Gio has been on four or five different antidepressants throughout his life. He tells me they made him feel like a zombie or numb. He complains that he lost his libido for a time, and that he even began to hear voices telling him bad things. He’s been off them for two years now. 

Paul Tullis writes in his article, “How ecstasy and psilocybin are shaking up psychiatry,” that it was previously thought that SSRIs flood the brain with serotonin, the happy chemical. 

It’s now theorized that the drugs actually stimulate neuroplasticity, the ability for the brain to forge new neuronal connections. I’m not a neurologist, but from what I’ve read neuroplasticity seems to be the brain’s ability to adapt to our changing bodies and circumstances. It is, to put it simply, how flexible we are to change. 

“Psychedelics have been shown to enhance neuroplasticity in animals and limited evidence suggests that the same might happen in human brains,” Tullis writes.

I’ve often characterized the depressed brain as a kind of calculator. The brain asks: “Should I die?” and every moment in our lives, every stray comment, every perception is a piece of data for that calculator to crunch—and, being depressed, it has a great deal of confirmation bias. 

It’s my belief that the brain learns to do this somehow. Its structures become set on negativity. On despair. On heartbreak. But psychedelics have the potential to forge new connections and new paths. Maybe they have the power to change a calculator into a journal, or a vast sea. 

One of the researchers from the Hopkins study warned that their results with psilocybin were found in a research setting with preparation and structured support with trained clinicians and therapists and shouldn’t be attempted by depressed people on their own. That made me laugh a little. 

Gio has been doing it on his own for two years. He’s been happier. Not a zombie. Libido intact. And getting by. It’s not perfect—there is no panacea for depression, nor a cure—but I hope the day comes when these drugs are decriminalized and destigmatized. 

I’d love for Gio to have one of these supervised, talk-therapy paired trips. Or maybe he and I can just go to a park sometime and watch the hills roll like waves. 

1. Names have been changed to protect the innocent.

2. Gio’s responses have been slightly edited for clarity.