Psilocybin for PTSD and moral injury for combat veterans: A first hand account of an Inwardbound client of their therapeutic process

This is a first hand account from a recent Inwardbound client, and former intelligence officer with severe PTSD, of their therapeutic process with psilocybin with Inwardbound. Names have been changed for anonymity and full permission has been given to share their process: 

Could a physically and emotionally scarred combat veteran who had never even smoked really go to Holland and do psychedelic drugs? In the first 3 seconds of considering this idea the following were just a few of the questions that raced through my mind;

Would my PTSD let me travel, could I even get there?
I wouldn’t be able to trust anybody new, how could I relate to the facilitators?
Could I really take something that might reduce my levels of control?
What would happen if my nightmares woke up the people I would be sharing a house with?
Did I have to tell them about my past, would they understand the military ethos and experiences?
Was it going to be too hippy?
Would I be able to relax enough for it to take affect?
Would it work?

I had been having therapy for 8 years with Dave an experienced, effective, psychotherapist who was also a military veteran. Dave understood me and my background and had helped me move from being actively suicidal to a functioning human. Things had changed a lot, but not enough for me, I wanted to shift some of the deep set, strongly held, but ultimately unhelpful coping strategies and beliefs that I used to get me though each day.

I read an article online about military veterans in the USA using psychedelics to help with PTSD and moral injury. That set me off on a research mission, what worked best, where was it legal, how did you get hold of it, what was the safest way to take it and what were the risks? After a couple of months I decided that Psilocybin sounded best to me and discovered that you could legally take it in several European countries. More research, reading reviews, checking companies protocols, checking out their staff, their qualifications and approaches led me to Inwardbound. They had the science background, a logical approach, a track record and didn’t look too hippy! As a military veteran wrapped in PTSD, just about anything could look hippy to me. Hippy was different, unfamiliar, unpredictable and therefore somehow dangerous.

I arrange an initial consultation with Darragh who was kind, understanding and happy to do his best to accommodate my needs. I requested a private retreat as I knew it would feel safest for me, fewer people, more space and nobody else’s ‘stuff’ to trigger me. Inwardbound’s flexibility extended to them agreeing that Dave my therapist could accompany me on the retreat. This was an essential safety mechanism for me, someone I knew and trusted would be there to have my back. He would also be able to ‘translate’ between the military and civilian worlds. I can not thank them enough for allowing this to happen.

I underwent the initial online intention setting session with Dr Donca Vianu, a wonderful member of the Inwardbound team who’s experience, gentle questioning and nonjudgemental acceptance made the process easier. Inwardbound sent me lots of useful information, lots of preparation instructions and were available to answer any questions. They sent me the address of the retreat location and a link to a video showing a walk through of the house when I asked about it. PTSD means the more I can prepare and know about where I am going, the less uncomfortable I will be. I did of course still google earth the area, know the exit routes, road names, nearest bus stops, train stations and walking routes etc!

I flew to Amsterdam, uncomfortable, overly alert, fight and flight system activated and definitely questioning my decision. I spent the hours waiting for the meeting by speed walking constantly, running safety drills and generally struggling with being around people in a busy place. When I met Darragh he was welcoming, calm, engaged and respectful. We walked a short distance to purchase the truffles from a local shop that obviously had a good relationship with Inwardbound. We then linked up with Dave and Darragh drove us to the retreat. It was about 45 minutes from the centre of Amsterdam and I spent most of the time trying to remember when I had last relinquished control enough to let someone else drive. I was also checking the route and road signs and he followed the most obvious route I had found for the journey, not 1 of the 4 alternatives I had also plotted.

When we arrived at the retreat it was a warm, comfortable house that looked exactly like it had in the walk through video. After dropping our bags Dave and I were able to head out for a walk in a beautiful wood that was literally at the bottom of the garden, while Darragh prepared a tasty meal. He is an excellent chef and all the food was healthy, delicious and exactly what I needed when I needed it throughout the retreat. At dinner nobody seemed to mind that I had the seat with it’s back to a wall and a good view of the door.

That evening we had our first discussion about how the next day would be. Plenty of time for me to walk, I didn’t need to do any yoga or breathing exercises if it did not right for me and we would adapt the day as we went along to help me feel as comfortable as possible.

The next morning after a good walk, (definitely one of my coping strategies) we had breakfast and nobody commented on either my screaming nightmares from the night before or the fact that some of the furniture had been moved, settees make great door wedges for when you sleep.

Later in the day after discussing my intentions for the journey, basically the question or thoughts I would hold in my mind and ask the medicine to help me with, it was time to take the plunge. My intention was that I wanted my somatic system, almost constantly in fight and flight, to match up a bit more with my cognitive brain. I knew I was safe in life now but I wanted to actually feel it too.

I crushed the truffles in a mortar and pestle and then added them to ginger tea. This was it, I sat looking at this warm fragrant liquid, could I do it, could I really drink it? There was no pressure and I knew that if I changed my mind that it would be ok, no-one would try to persuade me. A deep breath and the knowledge that I had nothing to loose, it could help me or do nothing, but it wasn’t going to hurt me. It was a distinctive taste, ginger tea with slightly stale walnuts, but it was easy to dink with a few chewy bits at the bottom. After a few minutes I lay down, with my back towards a wall, facing Darragh and Dave and waited for something to happen.

I felt unable to wear the eye mask, I just didn’t feel safe enough, I need to be able to open my eyes instantly if I heard a noise. Closing my eyes with someone else in the room was something I hadn’t done in years. Like everything else I was assured it wasn’t a problem and I could do whatever made me feel safest. After a few minutes I actually felt I wanted to close my eyes, I did open them several times over the next few hours to check where the others were.

Darragh managed the music and had an incredible ability to play the right thing at the right time, light music to take you in, deeper rhythms to encourage you feel and experience more and lighter again to lift you up when you needed it, years of running retreats has obviously honed his skills!

My journey started with a few colours dancing on the inside of my eyelids, they formed into bright glowing colours, patterns, symbols and cartoon figures that all seemed to be gently sliding past me. I cried at times, smiled, got angry, loved it and hated it, but somehow I always knew I was safe. I also knew that there was somebody right next to me who’s hand I could hold if I felt I needed it.

After a while, which turned out to be a couple of hours, I felt restless, opened my eyes and sat up, the carpet was moving like molten lava, the trees outside the window were stunning and the clouds looked like they had come from a classic Japanese painting. I had some water and was escorted to the toilet, walking felt a bit like the pin balling from wall to wall I remember from drunken teenage antics. I settled down again and went into the second phase of my journey, this was gentler and seemed to consolidate the ideas from the first part.

At no point during the journey did I feel totally out of control or that I didn’t know what was happening around me. I was aware when Darragh or Dave moved or spoke to each other but it didn’t activate me and it didn’t distract me. I also knew during the emotionally hard parts of the journey that if either of them offered to rest a hand on my shoulder that it was reassuring and safe.

At the end of my journey I was allowed to gently come back to reality and given some fruit, as the sugar is good for balancing things out. In the ultimate show of meeting my individual needs I managed to trade some of the fruit for chocolate. I was encouraged to write or draw things I could remember from my journey, but there was no pressure and no need to share anything, it was for me.

After another walk it was time for dinner and then an integration session. In this session I was able to talk about anything that had come up during my journey, but again, only things I wanted to share and in a way I was comfortable with. Everything I said was met with nonjudgemental acceptance and curiosity where appropriate.

I felt lighter somehow, accepted and strangely relaxed as we sat comfortably that evening before heading off for an early night, lying around with your eyes closed for 6 hours is exhausting.

The next day followed the same pattern, light healthy food, walks and an afternoon journey, but I could already feel something different. I felt more comfortable around the others, didn’t turn away from walkers in the woods and felt less like I needed to run away from everyone and everything.

My dose of medicine was slightly higher for my second journey but it followed a similar pattern to the first and again showed me things that related to the intention I had set for that day, but also some unexpected things.

Afterwards I felt more relaxed and also wanted connection, I actually reached out for touch and even asked for a hug, it had been years since I had last wanted to do that.

Another gentle evening and a talk about what I had seen, felt and experienced on my journey followed. I started to feel comfortable and that night I didn’t wake up screaming for the first time in about 15 years. I woke up but that was it, no terror, no need to get up and get out and I was able to go back to sleep.

I almost didn’t want to leave the next day, the retreat had felt good, I had been in an accepting, comfortable non judgemental bubble and I wasn’t sure I wanted to go back to a busy, demanding, people filled world.

However, as we arrived back in Amsterdam it felt different, less intimidating, less frenetic, people didn’t feel as threatening, it was odd. In the time before I needed to head to the airport I strolled around the city, stopped for something to eat and realised that I wasn’t running safety drills, wasn’t suddenly changing direction or checking to see if I was being followed. Walking through the airport wasn’t stressful and on the plane it actually took me 30 minutes to realise my leg was touching the passenger next to me and even then I didn’t try to squash myself into the window to get away from them.

It has been a couple of months since my retreat and things are continuing to progress. I have worked hard on integrating my experience, lots of therapy, lots of reflection, using the tools Inwardbound sent me and gentle testing of my new and continually changing boundaries. Some of the changes that I and my closest friends have noticed are;

I want to connect with others, people really aren’t that bad!
I have started to accept invitations.
I can get hugs without going rigid.
I am calmer and can cope with everyday dramas better.
I sleep, nightmares once every couple of weeks instead of every night.
I have been away for a weekend, choosing to travel somewhere different.
I have had a bath rather than a shower (lying about in water was always too vulnerable and risky).
I am choosing better food.
I smile at people.
I have let other people drive.
I have times when I feel safe, actually feel it, not just know it.
Some of my veteran friends have nicknamed me Dylan as they say I am now like the hippy rabbit from the Magic Roundabout. (I don’t even mind!!)

Life is different, there is no question in my mind that the combination of the retreat and therapy has allowed me to move forward in a way that would not otherwise have been possible. In time, when I have fully worked through everything from this retreat I want to go back and do it again. I know that it can help me more and I want to see what new things the medicine can teach me.

I am now taking Inwardbound’s education course and the more I learn about psychedelics the more I appreciate just how much potential they have. I believe and I am proof that psychedelic retreats like the one I attended have the ability to make positive differences to the lives of military personnel trying to cope with PTSD, moral injury and other trauma.

So if you are struggling or just not living to your fullest, take that leap. Accept that things we previously didn’t believe in, can actually help. Take a step towards what ancient cultures and the hippies have known for years, but that science and the establishment are only just catching up with.

Good luck with your journeys,

Dylan

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