This was my first ceremony in about 6 months. I’d left Peru in between and spent time in Spain and the UK. I foolishly left thinking that I would simply maintain my new awareness and state of being without the need for any kind of supportive practice. Slowly but surely, my old habits and patterns had crept back in.
I met with Javier before the ceremony to have a chat about what was going on in my world. I was fed up of being (feeling) forced into situations that I didn’t want to be in, and I had an unshakable fear of the future. The fear of the future was really just related to the first issue – it was a fear of being forced into a lifestyle that I didn’t want at some point in the future. Javier did his usual magic and helped me get to the core of this story and transform it into an intention for the ceremony ahead. He helped me to realize that I had felt this way for a long time, and I seemed to always find myself in these situations. Why do I like telling myself that I have no choices, and getting into situations where I’m choosing between “bad” and “worse”?
I’d come back to Peru with 1000 empty cellulose capsules to use to take the San Pedro. Drinking that sludgy mix had become unbearable, and I didn’t want to start the ceremonies feeling that nauseous and barely being able to keep it down. Javier had agreed to me putting my usual dosage of 5-6 teaspoons of powder into these capsules and taking the medicine that way.
The morning of the ceremony, I took some 60 loosely filled large capsules with water over about 20 minutes. After an hour, nothing was happening beyond stomach pain and nausea. I eventually vomited but nothing much came up. Some tears and discomfort followed as I worked through various small issues, but the medicine seemed strangely mild that day. The answer to my intention became obvious – I secretly enjoy and take comfort in being powerless over external circumstances and therefore avoiding responsibility. At the same time though, it keeps me small and limited and I’m tired of that. It’s time to move past this, take control of the choices and take responsibility for the outcome.
The day passed quietly and without anything too remarkable happening. Later in the afternoon though, I noticed the medicine becoming stronger – I could “taste” the capsules opening in my stomach and intestines. I was still bringing up the awful smell many hours later than I normally would.
I went over to the Ayahuasca temple to lie down for a bit. Minutes later, Javier came to get me to tell me that it was 5pm, the ceremony was closing, and to come back to the Maloka. A wave of anxiety hit me, the medicine was only just hitting me and it seemed like the ceremony had only started a few hours ago. I became confused and disorientated. I went back to the Maloka while Javier closed the ceremony, and my anxiety and discomfort was growing. I was becoming paranoid and was certain that Javier and all the other participants were conspiring to freak me out, given that it seemed like midday to me. After the closing, I went to be alone by the “Jasmine Palace” and Casita (little house) on the property, as my panic continued to grow.
Nora who was assisting came over and asked me how I was and if I needed Javier, I said that I was not feeling good, but that I didn’t need Javier’s help. I was starting to hyperventilate, I’ve never felt claustrophobic before, let alone while outside in an expansive space. I could feel the mountains closing in on me and my throat tightening. I was hallucinating strongly.
In hindsight, I now realize that not only had I used incredibly thick capsules that turned out to be extended release, but that I had also not drunk enough water. The water drained from my stomach whilst the capsules remained intact. They had opened slowly throughout the day, and I had also barely vomited meaning that I still had the medicine and thick cellulose capsule mix going through my system and getting stronger and stronger. The 8 hour ceremony had been mild as my mental defences were slowly being worn down, before the medicine really hit me.
This was absolute torture, worse than any kind of physical pain. I was having a full blown panic attack, or “bad trip”. My mind was being smashed to pieces and I couldn’t trust my vision or senses – this was it. See one of the most powerful aspects of San Pedro is not necessarily its intensity, but its duration. My biggest fear was about to manifest – I was loosing my mind and go crazy. I was trying as hard as possible to keep control, fearing that the minute I let go I would get sucked down a plug hole. My mind was running riot, and I was cold, clammy and light headed.
Javier went to put his arm round me to try and calm me and I jumped a mile off the chair I was in and ran unconsciously a few steps across the grass. I felt a burst of anger before floods of tears came out. My ceremony was just beginning. When I managed to get myself together slightly, I told Javier that I wasn’t able to come inside for dinner but I would rather just stay out here for a while. It was getting dark outside and Javier brought me a sweater and blanket. I sat in outside the Casita for a couple of hours before something clicked and I realized what had happened.
This fear and panic was just another resistance. A resistance to letting go and giving in, due to the fear of what might happen if I did. The old advice that I’d heard many times and given out to many people myself of, “the more you resist, the worse it gets” came to me. I was not crazy – whatever that even meant. I adopted the mantra, “I’m tired of being scared.” I must have said it five hundred times before I felt ready to go inside again.
I went inside for a few minutes before realizing that I wasn’t able to be indoors or around other people. The room was spinning and I couldn’t get comfortable. I was done with this ceremony and I just wanted the experience to stop, but 12 hours on and it was stronger than ever. “I’m never doing this again, ever, ever.” The familiar promise to myself echoed through my mind. “I’m done, seriously.” I couldn’t eat anything, so Javier gave me soup to take away in a container for later.
I came back and somehow managed to have a shower, despite being totally physically and mentally incapacitated from the medicine. I was half hoping that a shower would lighten the effects slightly, but it never does. I got into bed and the effects were so strong, I was still fighting as hard as I could – I just didn’t know what else to do. The ceiling was swirling, I was still panicking just as much as before. I kept alternating between trying to go to sleep to trying to keep my eyes open for fear of what would happen if I let go. My heart was racing – this was absolute torture.
I must have drifted off to sleep for a few minutes here and there, but each time I opened my eyes, I was in the same place – this just wouldn’t go away – maybe I really was crazy this time?
I woke up at 6AM the next morning, totally disorientated and feeling just as mentally ill as before. I was anxious, tense and totally ungrounded. I went to Javier at 7AM in tears, a complete mess, to tell him that I was completely screwed up, and could not stay indoors or be around other people – I would not be able to come to the integration session.
Javier was kind and assured me that I did not know what mental illness was, and that I was not mentally ill. He told me that this was something that I was doing to myself, which had already begun to make sense to me. Despite my protests, he assured me that it was nothing to do with the capsules, but it was all me. I wasn’t so sure, and promised that I was never going to use those capsules again.
The main insight that I took from the unpleasant experience was related to my original intention and fear of the future. At no point was I in fear of something immediate in the present moment. My fears were a) this could get worse, and b) what if I’m stuck like this forever. Both unfounded, irrational and based in the future. The monsters in my mind were ones that I’d created, to keep myself safe from imaginary fears and dangers, but at the same time – to box myself in. The most terrible kind of mental strategy to keep myself “in line”. The ceremony was written off as a disaster and the blame was placed on my capsules.
