Psilocybin Trial Diary - The night before the second dose

Wednesday, 5th August 2015

The studio flat at Imperial College

I am currently lying on a bed in a room that's been arranged by Mark and Robin about a minute's walk from the test facility. A tube strike started at 6.30pm today so I wouldn't have been able to make it to White City in the morning. I'm staying here for two nights. The room is comfortable and functional enough and I feel secure enough here. I don't know what to expect tomorrow but I am tangibly excited about it. I do need the reassurance that I won't completely lose it though.

The past week has been interesting. I still feel like myself, I am Ian Roullier, my interests and passions are the same. But something is definitely different. Aside from the dizziness that comes with sertraline withdrawal, I have felt much lighter mentally in many ways. Less serious. More detached in some ways but far more connected in others.

Emotionally it feels like someone has taken the cork out of a bottle. I feel alive, excited, energised and eager but I also feel like I'm slightly out of control, like my energy is bounding out of me. I have lost a lot of my fear and inhibitions with other people, I keep making conversation with everyone I come across. While I'm slightly worried I may be too intense for some people, I'm no longer crippled by second guessing how people are reacting to me. I feel far more connected to other people, to myself as well maybe.

Emotionally things are more intense and I feel completely connected to music and at times overwhelmed by it - I cried listening to Corona's Rhythm Of The Night yesterday! I feel strangely efficient at the moment, like I am just doing things rather than worrying incessantly about them. I am still moody, irritable and sometimes angry but I feel far lighter. Like life is more manageable.

I have felt quite manic at times though, completely over excited, almost breathlessly excited. And I've worried whether it's ok to feel the way I do or not. The overriding feeling is of endless possibilities and a large amount of optimism. My dreams have also changed and are consistently inspiring at the moment. I also wake up feeling rested which is massively rare for me.

How to judge this past week is made harder by the shift in my geographical as well as emotional/mental status. Flying to Berlin for my friend’s stag do the day after dosing, I felt completely exhausted and very weird. I was sleep deprived as well as on a come down mind you.

I wonder if my caring less will put me at greater physical risk. I fell off my bike really hard in the road in Berlin and was very lucky not to break any bones (at least I don't think anything is broken). Was this caused by the after effects of the drug or was it due to the fact that the bike I was on was very unstable and, well, accidents happen don't they? I do feel less risk averse but think I just screwed up on a fairly unstable bike.

It's now 2.30am. I really needed to write all of this down before my 2nd dose but also really need some sleep now. Goodnight. I may write or may make a video for tomorrow after I'm back in this room. What to expect? I already feel like someone has swept a broom through me mentally and emotionally so I can only imagine what may happen.

Psilocybin Trial Diary - Day two: First scan and prep.

Me in scrubs

The torrential rain starts just before I arrive. I’m given a green wristband by the receptionist and Robin then comes to meet me and takes me to the patient lounge. After a quick urine test, I put on scrubs, my identity disappearing with my clothes, and we then head to the scanner unit.

Robin guides me through everything. He says it'll be loud and may be claustrophobic. I have ear protectors on and a mirror above my eyes shows me the screen behind my head.

The first scans involve me having to keep my eyes closed for the whole time. Am I lying still? I'm trying to. I must relax my shoulders. Does that make my head move? I don't know. I've been told to focus on my depressed state so I’m thinking about my abusive dad, my childhood, how bleak and horrible it all was. God this is depressing.

After each scan I have to rate how I felt using buttons on a pad that's strapped to my arm and wrist. Left and right on the scale with the first two fingers, then select with my thumb. Each time I have to say how depressed/happy/anxious/motivated I was on a sliding scale.

I feel massively anxious during the first two or three scans. I feel like jumping out of the machine as it grinds and whirrs and groans and beeps around me. I imagine this is what it would be like if I was miniaturised and placed on my flatbed scanner at home - with another one on my left, my right and above me, all about an inch away from my skin. I reassure myself that I have the round squeezy panic button in the pocket of my scrubs and that just about keeps me going.

After every scan (lasting around 8 minutes each) I hear the voice of (her name escapes me, Adele?) who is in the scanner control room, asking me if I'm ok and telling me how long the next scan is and what I need to do. The final three scans involve clicking a button when a face appears on the screen, listening to a piano piece (my happiness rating went up but so did my anxiety - it was quite an emotionally varied piece) and the last one is just a physical scan of my brain rather the activity inside it.

This is where my 4am start kicks in (I had to take my Norwegian nephew to the train station) and I fall asleep. Apparently this is the perfect time to snooze if I need to as it would have messed up all of the scans aside from this one. (Can you be depressed in your sleep? Good question).

The dosing room

After I've filled in a couple of questionnaires on Robin's laptop, we then leave the scanning unit and head to what I can only describe as the chill out room. It's another private ward but has multicoloured fabrics hanging over the curtain rail that encircles the bed. There are fake candles that throw out a soft, welcoming light, pot plants and a nice snug blanket on the bed. This is where I will be given my doses. Robin tells me there will also be an aroma diffuser, fresh flowers and music when it comes to the dosing days.

This feeling of comfort increases as I get to know the two psychiatrists who'll be looking after/over me better. Mark and James are both warm, welcoming and disarming and we talk more about my family background and my struggles to make sense of it all and how I've desperately tried to 'fix' things (normally by trying to get unreasonable people to see reason - futile).

Empowerment and disempowerment seem to be themes. I often feel powerless. I can't change arseholes into better people, even though I try my hardest. Robin brings me a massive lunch and I'm left in the chill out/dosing room to eat and further acclimatise myself.

Post-lunch we have more time to chat and we do a dummy run of the dosing day. I lie down on the bed and listen to a (brilliant) selection of ambient music (is that Eno?) that will be played throughout my dosing. I then put earbuds in, which brings the music even closer, put a facemask on to block out the light and we practise a special handhold (which involves holding each others forearms). That's pretty much it for what was an interesting and at times testing (no pun intended) day.