‘I Want to Reset My Brain’: Female Veterans Turn to Psychedelic

TIJUANA, Mexico – Clouds of incense were swirling in the dimly lit living room as seven women took turns explaining what prompted signing up for a weekend of psychedelic therapy at a villa with stunning ocean views in northern Mexico.

A former US Marine said he hopes to connect with the spirit of his mother, who killed herself 11 years ago. An army veteran said he was sexually abused by a relative as a child. A handful of veterans said they were sexually assaulted by their fellow soldiers.

The wife of a Navy bomb disposal expert drowned when she said years of relentless combat missions had turned her husband into an incomplete, dysfunctional father.

Kristine Bostwick, 38, a former Navy infantryman, said she hopes poking her mind in ceremonies with mind-altering substances will help her come to terms with the end of a turbulent marriage and perhaps alleviate her migraines that have become an everyday torture.

“I want to reset my brain from the bottom up,” she said, wiping her tears during an introductory session of a recent three-day retreat. “My children deserve it. I deserve it.”

A growing body of research into the therapeutic benefits of psychedelic therapy has generated excitement. among some psychiatrists and venture capitalists.

Much of the growing appeal of such treatments has been driven by veterans of America’s wars in Afghanistan and Iraq. Many former military members have turned to experimental therapies to treat post-traumatic stress disorder, traumatic brain injuries, addiction, and depression. be zealous advocates for a broader embrace of psychedelics.

Psychedelic retreat participants often pay thousands of dollars for the experience. However, these female veterans and their spouses traveling to Mexico for treatment, Mission Inside attended for free, Hero Hearts Project and Hope Project. Founded by the wife of an Army ranger and a Navy SEAL, the groups are raising money to make psychedelic therapy affordable for people with a military background.

Located on the outskirts of Tijuana, Mission Within has focused almost exclusively on treating veterans since 2017. It is led by Martín Polanco.

Saying that he has treated more than 600 American veterans in Mexico, Dr. “I realized early on that we would have a greater impact if we focused our work on veterans,” Polanco said. “They understand what it takes to achieve peak performance.”

Initially, he said he treated almost exclusively male veterans. Recently, however, she has begun to receive many requests from female veterans and military spouses, and has begun to organize women-only retreats.

Outside of clinical trials, psychedelic therapy is currently performed underground or under unclear legality. As demand grew, a handful of countries in Latin America, including Costa Rica, Jamaica, and Mexico, became centers for experimental protocols and clinical trials.

Not licensed in the United States, Dr. Polanco has been practicing on the fringes of mainstream medicine for years, but her work is now attracting the attention of more established experts in the mental health field. Later this year, researchers at the University of Texas at Austin and Baylor University plan to review their protocol in two clinical trials.

The use of psychedelic treatments is not currently part of the standard of care for the treatment of mental health conditions at Veterans Hospitals, according to Randal Noller, spokesperson for the Department of Veterans Affairs. However, they can be managed with special approval. As part of the research protocol, and the department’s Office of Mental Health and Suicide Prevention “closely follows the evolving scientific literature in this area,” Noller said.

In Mexico, Dr. The two substances that Polanco gives—ibogaine, a plant-based psychoactive commonly used to treat addiction, and 5-MeO-DMT, a potent hallucinogen derived from the venom of the Sonoran desert frog—are neither illegal nor approved for medical use. Third, psilocybin mushrooms, can be obtained legally In ceremonies that follow indigenous traditions.

During a weekend retreat, Dr. Polanco’s patients begin Saturday with a ceremony using either ibogaine or psilocybin. The first trip aims to trigger destructive thinking and deep introspection.

“You become your own therapist,” Polanco said.

On Sunday, participants drink 5-MeO-DMT, which is often described as something between a mystical and near-death experience.

Dr. Charles NemeroffD., head of the department of psychiatry and behavioral sciences at the University of Texas at Austin, who recently established a psychedelic research center. The risks that include episodes of psychosis are significant, he said.

“Currently, there is no way to predict who will respond therapeutically or who might have a bad experience,” he said. “There’s a lot we still don’t know.”

The women in the Mexican retreat understood the risks. But many said they had lost faith in traditional treatments like antidepressants and had heard stories from friends that were so inspiring that they took a leap of faith.

When seven women gathered in a circle for the mushrooming ceremony last Saturday, each had signed a harmless waiver. They had completed questionnaires measuring post-traumatic stress and other psychological disorders and had undergone a medical examination.

He led the ceremony Andrea Lucieis a Chilean-American specialist in mind-body medicine who has spent most of his career working with injured U.S. veterans. After blowing flaming sage into cups of mushroom tea served on a tray decorated with flowers and candles, Ms. Lucie recited a poem by María Sabina, the Mexican Native healer who led the mushroom ceremonies.

“Heal yourself with beautiful love and always remember, you are the medicine,” said Ms. Lucie, from the Mapuche Indigenous family in Chile.

After drinking, the women slept on mattresses on the floor and wore eyeshadow, like soothing music played on a loudspeaker.

The first stirrings came in the 40th minute of the ceremony. A few women lowered their curtains and cried. One chuckled and then roared with laughter.

Then the cries began. Former sailor Jenna Lombardo-Grosso, who lost her mother to suicide, rushed out of the room and hugged Miss Lucie downstairs.

Ms. Lombardo-Grosso, 37, sobbed: “Why, why, why!” Later, she explained that mushrooms reveal traumatic childhood sexual abuse incidents, she said.

Inside the ceremonial chamber, Army veteran Samantha Juan, who was sexually abused as a child, began to cry and pulled out her diary. Dr. It was the third time he had attended a Polanco-led retreat, where he said he faced a lifetime of traumatic memories after leaving the Army in 2014 that caused him to drink heavily to recover from his pain and rely on drugs to get rid of his pain.

“I learned to empathize and show grace with myself,” said Ms. Juan, 37.

He said his goal in this retreat was to make peace with a sexual assault he said he had endured in the Army.

“Forgiveness is the focus on today’s journey,” Ms. Juan had said shortly before picking up the mushrooms. “I don’t want that kind of hold on me anymore.”

As the effects of the mushrooms waned, there was a prevailing sense of calm. The women told stories about their trips, joked and got lost in long hugs.

The next morning, while the women waited for their turn to smoke 5-MeO-DMT, Dr. It was a journey that Polanco called a “slingshot” for the speed and intensity of the experience.

Seconds after her lungs had sucked the frog secretions, Ms. Juan let out a guttural scream and fidgeted on her cushion. Miss Bostwick looked panicked and unsteady as she transitioned from lying on her back to a position on all fours. Miss Lombardo-Grosso vomited, gasped, and was violently shaken as a nurse, and Miss Lucie held her still.

When she regained consciousness, Ms. Lombardo-Grosso sat down and began to cry.

“I felt like an exorcism,” he said. “I felt like it was sulking, it’s black and now there’s nothing but light.”

That night, Alison Logan, the wife of a Navy explosive ordnance disposal expert on the verge of divorce, looked sad. She said the trips brought her grief to the fore, but provided no insight or a sense of resolution.

“I felt so much pain that there was no answer,” she said.

But other participants said their physical ailments had disappeared and their moods had brightened.

Ms. Bostwick said she was “surprised” but ecstatic, her migraines were gone, and she felt limitless possibility for the first time in a long time.

“I feel like my body has let go of so much anger and frustration and all the little things we hold on to,” she said. “I was overflowing with negativity.”

In the days after the retreat, Ms. Juan said she felt “full of energy and ready to face every day.”

Ms. Lombardo-Grosso said the withdrawal helped her come to terms with the loss of her mother and changed her outlook on the future from fear to optimism.

“I feel whole,” he said from his home in Tulsa a few days later. “Nothing is missing anymore.”