My Son Took Psychedelics. Here’s What Happened Since

By anonymous

Talking heads say that psychedelics are medicinal and not addictive, yet my son became poisoned and addicted. How? The secret aura of a new frontier of self-improvement through ancient traditions and plants enticed him. Micro dosing, self-medication, plant-based, consciousness expansion, ego dissolution, transcendence, and spiritual awakening—all buzzwords associated with psychedelics—intrigued, validated, and “health-washed” his entry into the world of potent, often addicting, and debilitating illicit drugs.

The media, search engines, and a vast array of personalities, some of whom are Jewish and even licensed professionals and rabbis, and many current and aspiring service providers who already reap or smell economic benefit, all further the illusion that psychedelics are generally without negative consequences and rather, offer huge existential upside for most users.

Users of psychedelic drugs use euphemisms to wash away the stigmatized language that normally describes a drug user. They don’t “do drugs,” but rather, they explore consciousness, expand their minds, take inner journeys, and engage in personal work or consciousness hacking.

My son was very open with me at the beginning of his journey. He insisted that psychedelics were medicinal, untapped, and revolutionary healing agents and seemed to have amassed a lot of scientific knowledge about them.

One Motzei Shabbes, my son reported that he was going to a Crown Heights melave malke. Yossi was supplying the “medicine”. A south-of-the-border shaman was flown in to officiate and lead the ceremonies. I asked who was attending, and my son replied: “Ta, that’s where I draw the line in sharing with you, but I can tell you that there will be rabbis, known therapists, couples, and a good few prominent people as well”.

This scene was anathema to me, but I certainly recognized the high cool factor and magnetic allure of the evening. Avant-garde, cutting edge, semi-secret, and with the tacit approval of a group of seeming intelligentsia comprised of participating rabbis, therapists, and prominent people.

I’ve since learned the real deal about these drugs as I’ve witnessed my clever, talented, and accomplished son go downhill.

Intermittently high, arrested, psychotic, and homeless are his current descriptors. Hatzalah guys, emergency room doctors, psych ward psychiatrists, former addicts, and those involved with rehab have rounded out my education about the prevalent dark side of these “healthy” drugs.

My son’s recovery after his first serious psychotic crash included a one-month stint in a psychiatric hospital and six months of convalescing at home. He weaned himself off the prescribed anti-psychotics and looked like he was back on track, but the allure of yet another Jewish-targeted Ayahuasca retreat cast a spell on him and drew him to South America, his third time there, this time to indulge in a six-week jaunt of consciousness expansion.

Soon after my son’s return from his mind-blowing experience, he flipped into a long-term drug-induced psychosis and state of homelessness, running away from family and friends, got arrested, and is on a horrid trajectory. I daven that he experiences a real awakening, accepts a helping hand, and recovers. I don’t know if his brain is fried or if al pi teva he still has the capability of recovery.

The user or promoter of psychedelics who dwells in the anecdotal will likely dismiss this article and indulge in a self-congratulatory story about their positive life-changing experiences witnessing or using them whilst employing cognitive dissonance in accepting my essential message and either ignoring with intent or simply not comprehending all the human zombies and carcasses littering the psychedelic highway. These psychedelic-use cheerleaders likely don’t have any malintent and simply exemplify multiple memes of a toxic modern culture that include notions of gratuitous self-promotion, that grooming others is redemptive, and that taking pills leads to instant cures, happiness, and health.

These pernicious mindsets trade away the virtues of self-sacrifice, hard work, and reliance on the Aibishter, all for the fool’s gold of a seemingly magical substance that in more cases than not, fails to deliver sustainable benefits and is dangerous. Compare that pharmacological experience with a healthy one, like lifting weights and walking or running long distances. Work hard and stimulate your muscles, and the most wondrous of pharmacies, your brain, will pump out an incredible array of feel-good G-d-given drugs to enhance your life rather than possibly destroy it.

The cheerleaders of these drug-induced experiences are full of happy talk. They influence others and fill the airwaves. They are promoters, dissemblers, and apologists for harmful drugs and the avoda zoras of their shaman facilitators.

The Call of the Shofar retreat a decade ago was a relatively inconsequential soft foray into psychology and yet it got communally stamped out in a fireman’s minute, yet the scourge of psychedelics and actual avoda zora, rages on like wildfire with no communal alarm. Today I declare that a fire rages in our midst.

I urge all those in the know to publicize the dark side of psychedelics. I call out to the promoters of these drugs that they risk being publicly exposed for grooming their brothers into destructive behavior. I urge all users of these drugs to take a step back and seek alternative routes to a positive outlook in life. In conclusion, I call on everyone to do something positive for their fellow, promoting Yiddish values of hard work and full reliance on the One Above instead of the opposite.

If anyone wants to reach out, text at 718-540-8307.