It was in this state of mind that I stumbled across James Fadiman’s book.
Before becoming a writer, I was a federal public defender and law professor with a particular interest in criminal justice reform. For many years, I taught a seminar called The Legal and Social Implications of the War on Drugs at the UC Berkeley School of Law, and was a consultant to the Drug Policy Alliance, an organization dedicated to the reform of U.S. drug laws. However, though I have experience and expertise with drug-policy reform issues, I knew very little about psychedelic drugs. I had never taken LSD, and my experience with other hallucinogens began and ended in my freshman year of college, with a pleasurable but somewhat disconcerting few hours spent languidly spinning on a tire swing after consuming a very small quantity of psilocybin in the form of “magic mushrooms.”*5 I have always been too afraid of enduring a terrifying bad trip or suffering lasting psychiatric harm to experiment further. But microdosing seemed different, less frightening. The doses Fadiman discussed were sub-perceptual, so small that there was no possibility of any kind of hallucination, positive or negative. Not so much going on an acid trip as going on an acid errand.
The individuals whose reports Fadiman presented in his book experienced “joy and gratitude,” increased focus, better mood. I wanted that. They reported rarely losing their tempers, becoming more fun to be with. I really wanted that. They experienced that most seductive and elusive thing: a really good day. I needed that! None reported any negative experiences, but, then, the book was hardly a thorough research study. It provided, however, a glimmer of hope. With reservations, of course.
There has never been an officially sanctioned study of microdosing. The closest thing to research is Fadiman’s anecdotal data collection, assembling reports from individuals who reach out to him. There is, however, a tremendous amount of data on LSD. Before the drug was criminalized, it was thoroughly studied. Thousands of doses were administered in therapeutic and research settings, with very few negative effects. LSD has a very low toxicity level and a large safety range.*6 This means that even massive doses are not physically dangerous. Microdoses have no discernible biological effects at all.
I contacted James Fadiman and received a memo entitled “To a Potential Self-Study Psychedelic Researcher.” The document makes clear that it is not meant as an encouragement to engage in illegal activity but is, rather, a set of cautions and procedures designed to minimize harm, should you engage in illegal activity without the encouragement of James Fadiman.
The protocol is simple. To participate in the international self-study group on the effects of sub-perceptual doses of LSD on normal daily functioning, a “self-study psychedelic researcher” is to take microdoses of LSD on repeating three-day cycles. The suggested dose is ten micrograms, one-tenth or less of what a person would have to take in order to experience an altered state of consciousness. The idea is to take a dose so small that you don’t actually feel anything unusual. Or at least nothing immediately tangible. On Day 1 of every cycle, participants are to take ten micrograms of LSD. They are to keep to their normal schedules of work, leisure, meals, coffee, naps, exercise, and social life. They are instructed to monitor mood, physical strength, symptoms, productivity, and the ease with which they do their work, and to “write a few notes about how [the] day went.” On Days 2 and 3, participants are to take no LSD, but merely to continue monitoring and noting.
I read Fadiman’s memo, I reread his book, I researched, and I considered. The idea of becoming a “self-study psychedelic researcher” felt ridiculous. I am the mother of four children. I am, to use my children’s gibe, “totally basic.” I wear yoga pants all day, I post photos of particularly indulgent desserts on Instagram. I am the mom surreptitiously checking her phone at Back to School Night, the woman standing behind you in Starbucks ordering the skinny vanilla latte, the one getting a mammogram in the room next to yours, the one digging through her too-full purse looking for her keys while you wait impatiently for her parking spot. I am a former attorney and law professor, a law-abiding citizen. A nerd. If a cashier hands me incorrect change, I return the excess. I don’t cheat on my taxes, don’t jump the turnstile in the subway, don’t park in handicapped spots. I write and lecture on the criminal justice system; I don’t regularly commit crimes.
But I was suffering. Worse, I was making the people around me suffer. I was in pain, and I was desperate, and it suddenly seemed like I had nothing to lose. I decided to try a one-month experiment. I would follow James Fadiman’s protocol, taking a microdose of LSD every three days. I would carefully track the results, keeping notes of the effects. Because I am a writer, I would write these notes up in a form that might be useful not just to myself or to Fadiman, but to others curious about the potential therapeutic uses of microdosing. I would also use this month to learn more about psychedelic drugs and to think deeply about what brought me to try something so unusual, so desperate. A single month out of fifty years. What harm—or what help—could there be in that?
* * *
*1 ?Lately, we’ve started going to a more traditional kind of couples therapy, in which we each try to recruit the therapist to take our side against the other. She’s annoyingly neutral—Switzerland in sensible shoes.
*2 ?The single audience member, a malodorous gentleman slumped in a rear seat, woke up halfway through the reading, gazed at me with pity, and trundled his shopping cart heaped with beer bottles out the door.
*3 ?Other than the time I was fired for cursing out a sexist boss. But I’d waited until my last week of work before taking on the guy. He was such a complete and utter shitheel that I consider that experience an example of forbearance rather than (or perhaps in addition to) loss of control.
*4 ?Incidentally, alcohol seems to act on the same receptors, so a glass of wine can have the same effect. As appealing as was the idea of spending a week of every month in a mild state of inebriation, I opted for the pills.
*5 ?Or maybe the mushrooms weren’t magic at all. I didn’t hallucinate, and who wouldn’t become dizzy spinning on a tire swing? It’s possible that all I ate was a handful of dried shiitakes dipped in cow manure.
*6 ?The safety range is the span of difference between a therapeutic dose and a toxic one. If the safety range is narrow, then someone can easily overdose.
Day 1
Microdose Day
Physical Sensations: Heightened awareness.
Mood: Excited. Nervous. Delighted.
Conflict: Who, me? Even the idea seems absurd.
Sleep: Hard time falling asleep. Woke up early.
Work: Astonishingly productive, lost track of time.
Pain: My shoulder—frozen for the past year and a half—is killing me.