Why I'm Not Fan of Plant Medicine to Heal Trauma

The year was 2012 and my mom had just died. I was deep in grief and also trying to process a lot of unresolved trauma.

Talk therapy hadn’t been very helpful up to that point, so I came to the misguided conclusion that going on a magic mushroom journey would solve all my problems and heal all my trauma (spoiler alert: it did not!).

I was a yoga teacher living in Los Angeles at the time and it seemed like everyone I knew was talking about their spiritual awakenings and profound healing experiences with psychedelic plant medicine like ayahuasca, bufo, and shrooms. 

To be fair, there is a growing body of research around the use of psilocybin and other psychedelics as a therapeutic intervention for depression, anxiety, and PTSD. John Hopkins has an entire center dedicated to Psychedelic and Consciousness Research. But despite some promising studies, the field has faced red tape from the FDA amid concerns about the safety and efficacy of certain substances.

It should be noted that when I’m referring to plant medicine here, I’m specifically referring to psychedelic plant medicine. Not all psychedelics are plant based and not all plant medicine is psychedelic or contains psychoactive compounds.

Traditional plant medicine like medicinal tea, adaptogens and certain spices have been used for thousands of years for their healing properties across many different cultures and do not contain any psychoactive compounds.

It also deserves to be mentioned that I deeply respect indigenous wisdom and cultural practices. As a Native Hawaiian, I have a deep reverence for practices like La’au lapa’au (a traditional form of medicinal healing using plants and herbs).

However, when indigenous practices are stripped of their cultural and communal context and repackaged for recreation or a fast track to enlightenment, that’s where I take issue (if only I had listened to my own advice 12 years ago!)

Ok, back to my story. I had done mushrooms a few other times in the past and it felt pretty groovy, so I didn’t really think twice about doing it again. I got a hold of mushroom chocolates from a friend of a friend (definitely not a medical professional or indigenous healer) and rented an Airbnb in the woods for the weekend with my boyfriend at the time.

There was NOTHING magical about the experience. In fact, it ended up being one of the most terrifying experiences of my life. Instead of finding healing, I ended up with a severely dysregulated nervous system.

I was stuck on a rollercoaster of terrifying hallucinations and wild bodily sensations for HOURS on end. When the ride finally stopped, I experienced my first panic attack. I began experiencing regular panic attacks in the aftermath and was later diagnosed with panic disorder and agoraphobia.

My mindset for trauma healing at the time was to seek out big experiences and dive headfirst into anything that I thought could be a portal to spiritual awakening. I thought that in order to “heal’, I needed to lean into the extreme. I did things like a 10-day holotropic breathwork training in Sedona where we spoke in tongues and hyperventilated for hours. I also forked over $5000 for a weeklong inner child healing retreat where they took away our phones and didn’t allow us to speak for the first 48 hours. The whole process culminated with a birthday party where we sat on Santa’s lap.

What I didn’t understand then, is that trauma is anything that is too much, too fast, or too soon and overwhelms our body and mind’s ability to cope.

I was trying to meet the intensity of my trauma with the intensity of my healing, but I have since learned that the nervous system heals best in small, slow, and titrated ways, with safety as an essential ingredient.

Trauma can retune our autonomic nervous system toward states of high activation (sympathetic hyperarousal), or toward states of numbness and shut down (dorsal vagal hypoarousal). 

Neuroceptive mismatches are common in people who have experienced trauma and can show up as an inability to feel safe and settled in body and mind even in safe environments or having an inability to perceive and appropriately respond to threat in dangerous situations.

As a result, we may either completely avoid people, places and experiences that are too activating OR we may seek out highly activating and adrenalizing experiences or engage in risky behavior without being consciously aware that it’s our dysregulated nervous system running the show.

While I did have some profoundly cathartic experiences and big emotional releases during some of those more intense practices, I now understand that catharsis doesn’t equal regulation.

Yes, big cathartic experiences can hold tremendous value, feel deeply insightful and emotionally freeing, but they don't often leave us in a regulated state.

Learning to expand our nervous system's capacity in a safe and titrated way can feel almost boring at first to those who have experienced trauma, because our nervous systems may be used to seeking out the highest highs before crashing into the lowest lows. 

What truly shifted everything for me was learning about the Polyvagal Theory and the neurobiology of trauma from a somatic lens and applying polyvagal-informed principles to my life.

Approaching my healing in a way that allowed me to stretch my nervous system without stressing my nervous system (as Deb Dana would say), was revolutionary. I am now many years completely panic-free and have dedicated my life to helping others learn how to regulate their nervous systems and heal from trauma.

There are many paths to healing and none of this is to say that psychedelics may not be right for you, especially if done under the proper guidance. Just consider whether you're seeking out catharsis versus regulation. 

If you’re interested in learning how to regulate your nervous system, build capacity, and develop a toolbox that supports embodied safety, growth and connection, I invite you to join the next cohort of my Trauma Alchemy Course,.