No bad trips
How to navigate challenging psychedelic experiences
I’m rolling around on my mattress. My body keeps twitching and making weird movements. Hours have passed since my last cup of Ayahuasca.
The room is evolving as usual. Desperate cries merge with hysterical giggles and gut-wrenching purge sounds. Evocative Indian raga echoes through the space. Helpers tiptoe around. Within the hour, the ceremony is winding down.
It is then that an extreme physical discomfort arises. I roll back and forth and begin weeping. Soon, I’m trapped in a state I’ve experienced sober many times — wanting to crawl out of my skin. Except now, it is amplified by a thousand.
The sensation intensifies until it fills my entire body, every fiber of my being, with excruciating pain. It feels as if the universe is throwing up and I am at the center of that throw-up. I already have a facilitator by my side, whispering soothing lullabies into my ear. But my terror only expands. “I’m gonna die, I’m gonna die, I’M GONNA DIE”, I scream.
I cycle through all the different ways one can die: My throat retracts and constricts the airflow, I’m suffocating. Heat arises in my body to the point of melting. Water swells around me until I drown. Multiple helpers now simultaneously hold me down so I don’t hurt myself or others while pouring love all over me.
The pain becomes so unbearable I wish for actual death. All throughout, I’m grasping for the epiphany that will catapult me from pain into bliss. The big breakthrough that will relieve me from this terror. I’m willing to die if it means I’ll be reborn.
But I won’t be reborn that night. The terror continues well into the morning; soon it’s 8 am and time to drink cactus medicine. I’m a zombie but more than anything, I am pissed. Pissed at Ayahuasca for doing this to me - one of its most loyal advocates. What the hell? Why on earth?
Do bad trips exist?
As with conventional treatments, there is a risk-reward profile. When you undergo any surgery, you accept some risk for complications. The same is true for psychedelic journeys, which are mental surgeries promising long-term improvements in well-being.
Culture has deeply ingrained fear and skepticism in how we view mind-altering drugs, which we fear might make us “crazy”. The reality is that much of this stems from misleading anti-drug propaganda, a residue from Nixon’s War On Drugs.
Science reveals that psychedelics have a remarkable safety profile. The probability of lingering effects such as flashbacks, psychosis, or suicidal attempts is extremely low, as researchers already established in the 60s based on a review of 25,000 LSD administrations. That’s not to say that they are risk-free. HPPD (Hallucinogen Persisting Perception Disorder) does occur, but it is rare.
In my TikTok era, I used to tell people there’s no such thing as a bad trip. It caused a lot of controversy. Especially from those who were convinced they’d had a bad trip. I have a more nuanced take now. I still believe there are no bad trips, only hard trips, provided the setting is one where there is ample support to navigate challenges.
A hard trip without the right container can turn bad, but the bad usually isn’t triggered by the psychedelic but by the environment and lack of support. I volunteered at a harm reduction tent at Burning Man a couple of times, and every single case of someone freaking out was a lack of appropriate support.
It’s inconvenient if your deepest fears and traumas are triggered in an overstimulating environment surrounded by thousands of people when what you need is help processing the neglect of a parent that you may have not been aware of.
Challenging experiences are not non-sensical trips that break your brain but journeys that take you to your limits (and sometimes beyond). They can be extremely unpleasant, but with the right support and mindset, they can turn into a source of growth and transformation. Without a doubt, my most difficult journeys have been the most therapeutic ones.
How to navigate challenging experiences
The term ‘psychedelic’ stems from the ancient Greek word for “mind-manifesting”. What manifests is not something contained in the substance itself, but something in your mind.
Psychedelics can show you things you don’t want to see. Thought or behavior patterns. Memories and traumas. The fabric of your ego and what lies behind it. They are mirrors. They bring up stuff your ego worked hard to become ignorant of.
You may be eager to look away when these things come up. They may cause you disgust, fear, or shame. But as soon as you resist, it gets scarier, darker, and sometimes even more painful.
My death loop was certainly the most terrifying psychological experience I’ve ever endured. I learned the hard way that when you encounter a challenging experience, the worst thing you can do is to try to control it.
Resisting will, with absolute certainty, prolong your suffering. Everything arises in your favor. This mindset is key. If you look away, you won’t be able to learn your lesson. Psychedelics are stubborn. Oftentimes, they will not let you look away. They’ll continue to push and push until you’re on your knees.
There’s a saying that the difference between a good and a bad trip is often just a yes. It’s simplified but the sentiment is valid.
As veteran psychedelic therapist William Richards similarly notes:
“What is so important here is the discovery that the monster has meaning and in itself is an invitation to enhanced psychological health and spiritual maturation. Its purpose is not to torment, but to teach.”
In his book, he cites the case of a woman who, during an LSD session, jumps up as she sees a snake in the empty seat across from her. Her instinct is to run. Instead, Richards tells her to stay put and look the snake in the eyes. As she does, the snake transforms into her mother.
After my horror journey a few years ago, I did get resolution the next night. When I softened into the pain through my heart rather than forced sense onto it through the mind, I found a part of me that was long forgotten. A part that was holding on to all the pain, so far repressed that I had no memory of it whatsoever. It was my first encounter with my inner child. It was after this experience that my emotions came back and I finally was able to reconnect with feelings.
6 tips for navigating challenging experiences
Only journey in supportive settings. This is the biggest harm reduction tip. If you are in the right hands, almost nothing can go wrong. Despite my elaborate psychedelic experience, it would never cross my mind to have a high-dose journey in the wrong setting. You should have exceptionally high standards for where you journey and adjust dosage to your setting.
Always move further into what you fear, never away from it. I once heard the simple advice that if during a journey you get two visuals — one of a crying kid in a dark corner and one of rainbows and unicorns — always go to the crying kid. This sums it up well. Always go to that which scares you.
Use your breath to ground and regulate. Long, deep, intentional breaths can do wonders and have shifted many journeys from challenging to beautiful within minutes for me. It’s not always enough, but it’s always worth a try. (Music can do the same if you meditate on it.)
Ask yourself what this experience is teaching you, but don’t cling to finding an answer. Sometimes difficult experiences will resolve within the journey. Other times, it will take longer. Don’t get stuck searching for a lesson when there’s none to be found yet. Return to curiosity and trust.
If you struggle to trust and surrender, ask the medicines to teach you. Trust is not in our nature (which holds especially true for trauma victims). Psychedelics rely on trust. This is a skill that can be learned. Psychedelics happen to be the perfect teacher. You can ask them for help at any point.
Make sure you have integration support in place. After challenging journeys, it’s critical to have a support system in place that can help you make sense of what happened. Some of my journeys were followed by weeks of nightmares and flashbacks as my consciousness continued to process the traumas that came up. Having someone to talk to is critical.
Further helpful resources
~ Fireside Project is a free psychedelic peer hotline to offers acute support
~
“The Challenging Psychedelic Experiences” project offers an abundance of resources — guidance, online support groups, research, and more~ Stan Grof’s writings on Spiritual Emergencies are a great resource for prolonged difficulties after journeys
~ The non-profit ICEERS offers free integration support for individuals struggling with the aftermath of challenging experiences
“The monster’s purpose is not to torment but to teach.” — William Richards
Thank you for this post and sharing details of your difficult journey- I found it very timely. I had my first 'journey' about three weeks ago and found it very intense, overwhelmingly so. I had read and been briefed and thought I knew what to expect, but I didn't realize that what may come out of the subconscious is our greatest fear(s) (versus submerged feelings or experiences). For me it seems that facing death was the greatest one. I knew ego dissolution was a likely part of the journey and might be akin to dying, but this was, during the journey, indistinguishable from my own death. The curious part about it was that I was convinced I was my father. I had good support before, during and after, although during the journey I was so immersed in what was happening and so overwhelmed by the bodily sensations that I could not communicate effectively with my guide to tell him what I was going through. His instructions to breathe deeply and try to relax did help me yield - to the sensations and the dissolution - though I seemed to go back and forth between yielding and fighting to stay in the present. My therapist helped me unpack much of the imagery / thoughts later. While initially I thought I might have had a 'bad' trip, it did seem that every part of it had a purpose - and about three days later I was able to sit with difficult feelings which descended upon me in the middle of the night without forcing them away as per usual (which I know gives them more energy). So as you said, intense and difficult, but not 'bad' in the sense of, I guess, deeply traumatic or scarring.
I've used music when I was having a bit of a hard time, it was very effective for me. I curated a playlist beforehand so there would be no surprises in the mix.