Psychedelic

# Psychedelic Many people live with mental suffering that is not only painful, but also persistent, recurrent, and difficult to overcome with the methods we usually offer. Depression and anxiety top the statistics, but behind those words there is often a whole life of shame, self-criticism, loss of meaning, and an inner pressure that never quite lets go. For some, the treatment system feels like a lifeline: talk therapy, medication, support and structure can gradually provide footing. For others, it feels like they are doing everything “right” without getting the change they hope for. In this landscape, interest in psychedelic substances has re-emerged — not as a romanticization of intoxication, but as a research and treatment track trying to understand consciousness, suffering and change in a new way. The question is not only whether such substances “can help,” but *how* they might work, who they might be dangerous for, what safety and follow-up are required, and how we can relate to the phenomenon ethically and professionally. ## Mental illness and treatment gaps Depression is not just sadness. It can appear as emptiness, meaninglessness, bodily heaviness, social withdrawal and a relentless inner critic. Anxiety is not just fear, but an overactive alarm system where the body behaves as if something dangerous is about to happen, even when life on the outside looks “fine.” Many learn to function with the disorder — go to work, smile, deliver — while their inside is falling apart. There is solid evidence that both psychotherapy and medication can help many people. At the same time, we know that a significant proportion do not get sufficient effect, or experience side effects, relapse, or a treatment course that doesn’t hit the core of the problem. When hope shrinks, vulnerability to solutions promising a big turning point increases. It is in this space that people often turn to alternative tracks — sometimes with good reason, sometimes out of pure desperation. ## Nora: a story that illustrates the dilemmas I will use an example resembling cases many clinicians have encountered: a woman we can call Nora. She has lived with deep depression for a long time. She has tried traditional treatment, been in therapy, tried medications, done “everything” — but still feels pulled back into the same darkness. At one point she seeks out an underground scene offering psychedelic therapy. She describes the experience as transformative: as if something loosened, as if for the first time in a long while she reconnected with life, feelings and meaning. She talks about insights that felt deeply true, and a subsequent period of relief. At the same time, her story raises a number of serious questions: What kind of competence did the practitioners have? Was there screening for vulnerabilities like psychosis or bipolar disorder? Was medical preparedness in place? How was the substance dosed, and what was its quality? Was there integration afterwards, or did the experience remain a standalone intense event without support? Nora’s experience puts words to two realities that can coexist: 1. Some people report substantial symptom relief and reorientation after psychedelic experiences. 2. Unregulated treatment can carry high risks, medically, psychologically and ethically. ## A gateway to consciousness: what can happen in the brain? One of the most interesting — and often misunderstood — parts of psychedelic research concerns how these substances appear to affect the brain’s networks. A concept often brought up is the **default mode network (DMN)**. The DMN is a network involved in self-referential thinking: rumination, self-narrative, judgments about who I am, what went wrong, and what might go wrong. In many people with depression and anxiety this system can become rigid and dominant. It is as if the brain keeps returning to the same tracks: the same interpretations, the same self-criticism, the same feeling of being trapped in one’s own head. Research suggests that classic psychedelics can **reduce activity** in the DMN temporarily while increasing communication across networks that usually don’t “talk” as much with each other. Roughly speaking: our perspective can loosen from habitual patterns. It can feel like a *temporary weakening of the ego’s grip* — not meaning that one loses oneself, but that the self-narrative becomes less locked. Clinically, this temporary flexibility is precisely what is interesting. If suffering is often tied to rigid patterns in thought, emotion and identity, a period of increased flexibility can provide a window in which new insights, emotional processing and a changed relationship to oneself become possible. But: a “window” is not the same as lasting change. Without frameworks and integration, insight can be like a dream you forget, or an intense experience that leaves you confused. ## Ayahuasca, psilocybin and LSD: controversy and potential There are different psychedelic traditions and substances, used in everything from rituals to research protocols. **Ayahuasca** is particularly associated with ceremonial contexts, often within a spiritual framework. **Psilocybin** (from magic mushrooms) and **LSD** are often called “classic psychedelics” and have attracted substantial research interest. Some people report that such experiences provide: - deep emotional catharsis (for example, grief finally being released) - a sense of coherence and meaning - reduced fear of one’s own feelings - increased self-compassion - a shift in perspective on life history (“I am not just what happened to me”) At the same time there are serious risks: - panic reactions and overwhelming experiences - retraumatization if difficult memories open up without support - worsening instability in bipolar disorder - triggering of psychosis in vulnerable individuals - harmful or directly abusive therapeutic relationships in unregulated settings Here we reach the core: it is not enough to ask whether the substance *can* give insight. We must ask whether the context around it can carry that insight. ## Underground therapy: quality, safety and power Unregulated treatment forms often arise because need outpaces supply. When people don’t get help, or experience the system as too slow, too standardized or too symptom-focused, they look for alternatives. The problem is that underground therapy lacks: - oversight and quality assurance - clear ethical guidelines - standards for screening and contraindications - medical preparedness - transparency about dosing and ingredients Added to this is the power aspect: in a psychedelic state one is often extremely open, suggestible and vulnerable. It requires high ethical competence to hold a safe space. Without it, people can be exposed to pressure, boundary violations or subtle manipulation, even from well-meaning individuals. This does not mean that all unregulated contexts are harmful, but the risk is real and must be taken seriously. ## Psychedelic experiences and mindfulness: an interesting kinship One of the most fruitful perspectives, in my view, is to look at the similarities between psychedelic states and certain effects of **meditation and mindfulness**. The point is not that they are identical — they are not — but that both can involve a shift in the relationship to thoughts and self-experience. In mindfulness we train to: - observe thoughts as mental events, not truths - tolerate discomfort without escaping or controlling - allow feelings to be present without becoming one’s whole identity - meet ourselves with acceptance and curiosity This can produce a form of “de-centering”: I *have* a thought, I *am not* the thought. In psychedelic experiences many report something similar, only much more intense and sudden — as if the brain gets a break from autopilot. The difference is that mindfulness is typically gradual skills training. Psychedelics can provide a dramatic experience, but without skills and integration one can fall back into old patterns, or be left with powerful material one doesn’t know how to handle. ## Integration: where change is often decided A psychedelic experience can provide insight. But insight is not the same as life change. The transition from “I understood something big” to “I live differently” often requires work afterwards. Integration can involve: - putting words to the experience and making it understandable - sorting what was symbolic, what was emotional, and what is concretely actionable - linking insight to everyday practice: boundaries, relationships, sleep, work, self-care - meeting relapse without concluding that everything was in vain Without integration you can get stuck chasing the next “breakthrough.” Then the experience becomes more like a peak experience than a process. Mental health is often built slowly: through repeated choices, practice and support. ## A paradigm shift — and why it creates friction In our upbringing many of us received moralistic and simplified messages about drugs: “just say no,” “users are losers,” “be smart — don’t start.” Everything was lumped into the same category, as if heroin, cannabis, LSD and alcohol were one and the same. Now we see the outlines of a more nuanced understanding where researchers and policymakers increasingly try to distinguish between different drug groups and uses. Classic psychedelics appear to be different from substances that primarily create addiction through dopamine-based reward in the same way many other drugs do. This does not mean psychedelics are “harmless” or “for everyone.” But it does mean the research question is legitimate: Can these substances, used under strict frameworks, have therapeutic value? An important guide for many in the public conversation has been author **Michael Pollan**, who has helped make the field more understandable to the general public while emphasizing the need for responsibility. He represents a type of communication that neither demonizes nor idealizes, but investigates with curiosity. ## Ego, identity and temporary dissolution In clinical psychology we often meet people who suffer under a harsh and narrow identity: “I am wrong,” “I am broken,” “I will always be like this.” Such conclusions can feel like truths, but they are often the result of repeated experiences, trauma, attachment, learning and self-protection. Psychedelics sometimes seem to provide a temporary “dampening” of the ego’s usual organizing power. It can be experienced as: - being more than one’s story - meeting oneself without the usual judge - seeing relational patterns more clearly - experiencing forgiveness or reconciliation At the same time, ego dissolution can be frightening, especially if one has little inner security or safe surroundings. Some may experience it as a complete loss of control. This is where setting, support and competence become decisive. ## Ethics and society: what do we owe people who suffer? The ethics in this field are not only about the individual taking a substance. They are also about society’s responsibility to: - enable safe research - create regulations that protect patients - prevent commercial interests from running ahead of knowledge - ensure that vulnerable people are not exploited At the same time it requires humility: we must be able to hold two thoughts at once. That something can be potentially helpful for some does not mean it should be unleashed uncritically. And that something can be risky does not mean we should shut the door on research. There is also a social dilemma: If regulated services are not developed, the underground market will persist. Then those with the most resources can buy “safer” options, while others take greater risks. Research, regulation and capacity building are therefore also matters of justice. ## Curiosity about your own psychological landscape Regardless of what one thinks about psychedelics, the field can remind us of something important: the psyche is not static. The brain is malleable. Perspectives can shift. Self-experience is influenceable. And people’s suffering is often tied to patterns that can loosen — whether through therapy, relationships, bodily changes, meditation, life events or other powerful experiences. The most constructive question I know when facing psychological pain is often: *What is going on in my inner landscape — and how can I meet it in a way that creates more freedom and less struggle?* For some the answer will lie in classic treatment. For others in a combination of methods. For some in slow training of attention and self-compassion. For a few perhaps in future, regulated psychedelic treatments where research, ethics and safety are in place. It is okay to be curious. It is also wise to be cautious. ## A sober conclusion Psychedelic substances can disrupt everyday perspectives by affecting specific networks in the brain. They can open up new ways of understanding feelings, memories and meaning — and in some cases provide an experience of healing or direction. At the same time they can be risky, especially in unregulated settings without screening, competent support and integration. Therefore I arrive at a measured stance: the field deserves serious research and open, nuanced conversation. Not moralistic rejection, not uncritical enthusiasm. We need knowledge that can protect people who suffer, while also exploring opportunities for help where today’s methods fall short. --- **Want to dive deeper into this topic?** This is a topic psychologist Sondre Risholm Liverød discusses further in the podcast episode of the same name. You can find the episode as part of the practice material at [BeBalanced.ai](https://bebalanced.ai).