A Really Good Day

I began the experiment with great nervousness and excitement. I felt almost euphoric on the first day. Within two hours of dosing, I felt like my senses were ever so slightly heightened. On a walk to get some lunch, I noticed the beauty of my neighborhood, the trees and flowers, the smell of the jasmine. After lunch, I felt slightly nauseated.

The only days on which I experienced any unusual physical or mental sensations were the Microdose Days. I never again felt the same level of heightened sensation, but I did occasionally feel I was more aware of my surroundings. One time, I felt that my hearing was sharper; I noticed the sound of my fingers tapping on my keyboard. These sensations passed quickly, gone within ninety minutes or two hours of taking the microdose. As the month progressed, I began occasionally to feel dizzy or nauseated on Microdose Day. Additionally, I felt more activated. On Day 7, I felt nearly hypomanic; my words were racing.*1 I never experienced those symptoms on Transition Days or Normal Days.

Since I engaged in the experiment specifically because I want more control over my mood, that is what I monitored most closely. On some Microdose Days, I experienced a sense of well-being and joy that felt nearly, though not quite, euphoric. As the month progressed, however, while I continued to experience moments of heightened joy, I also began to feel more prone to irritability on Microdose Days. Sometimes I felt edgy and anxious. On Transition Days, by contrast, I felt generally wonderful, optimistic, and easygoing. I was, by and large, my best self.

My sleep was definitely affected by the protocol. On Microdose Days, I had a much harder time falling asleep. I stayed up later, and woke up earlier the next day. My sleep sometimes remained out of whack until the Normal Day.

I had one very serious fight with my husband on a Microdose Day. This conflict was unpleasant and difficult, but I noticed a slight difference between it and the kind of argument I might have had before the experiment. Generally, when I have a conflict with my husband (or when I embarrass myself online), the end result for me is a feeling of intense shame. My guilt becomes nearly unbearable and triggers depression. I have been working on these feelings of shame and guilt with my therapist, whom I started seeing a few months before I began the experiment. Over this past month, I was successful in using the tools she taught me both to engage in more productive conflict and to be more forgiving of myself after the resolution of conflict. I think I also fought in a way that was less shame-inducing.

The therapy is responsible for this change of approach, but I’ve been in therapy before. Many different therapists have pointed out to me how detrimental my self-blame is. It could certainly be a coincidence that the message seems to have penetrated this month in a way it never has before. But I find myself wanting to ascribe my receptivity to a change brought about by the protocol.

My diet and exercise remained more or less the same throughout the month. I was not quite as hungry on Microdose Day, but I didn’t eat any less than usual. Microdosing is not, for me at least, a weight loss regimen.

The pain of my frozen shoulder substantially decreased. I have not been woken up in the middle of the night by pain for a few weeks. I don’t know whether this can fairly be attributed to the microdose, however. Most people do experience an eventual easing of such symptoms, and it’s been nearly eighteen months since my shoulder froze. Maybe it’s just a coincidence that this is the month when it began to unfreeze.

It is in the area of work that I noticed the most dramatic change. I don’t know if this is a result of the protocol itself or a result of my decision to use the structure of the protocol as a means to force myself to put words on paper each and every day. I took just a single day off during this thirty-day period, something out of the ordinary for me. Usually, I work only during the week, and even then I often find excuses not to sit down and bang out the words. I am a marvelously effective procrastinator. I get right to it. And yet, over these thirty days, I never wrote fewer than two pages a day and sometimes wrote as many as ten. I have once or twice before in my life written this much in a single month, but never with such ease and pleasure. Maybe I’ve turned into one of those clone robots of myself my therapist asked me to imagine!

I began the experiment because my moods have not only made me unhappy, they have damaged the people around me. Families are hostages to the moods of their members. This was true of my family while I was growing up. When my parents were happier, when they felt optimistic, I was relaxed—at ease with the world and able to find joy. When they were angry or absent, I was fretful and sad. And, even knowing that was true, I had been unable to do things much differently. My children’s experience reflects my own, as does my husband’s. When my mood is low, it is hard even for someone with my husband’s inherent optimism and cheerfulness not to have his good spirits chipped away.

When I asked my husband if he noticed any changes in my mood, he said, “I have noticed several changes, yes. In situations of conflict, you seem to be able to reset yourself more quickly and easily. It used to sometimes take hours, and now it can sometimes take only minutes.” He wasn’t sure whether this improvement could be attributed to my finally using the tools taught in cognitive behavioral therapy, or to the LSD microdosing, or to a combination of the two.

On the other hand, he did notice an increase in my anxiety on Microdose Days. “On Microdose Day, you are able to supply a narrative of catastrophe more vividly even than normal—which is already pretty vivid.” I seemed altogether too able to imagine the worst. I guess that’s the problem with expanding your mind: you’re not entirely in control of in which direction it expands. He also noticed something about my energy and sleep. “When you slept well, you had more energy. You didn’t get tired as easily. But sometimes the dosing interfered with your sleep.”

My children were less equivocal. When I told them that over the last month I had been experimenting with a medication for my mood, they were not surprised. They had sensed that something was different. To them, the experiment was a resounding success. My younger daughter said, “You’ve been much happier. You’ve been controlling your emotions. Like, when you’re angry, you’re super-chill.” My younger son agreed: “You’ve been nicer and happier. You’ve gotten angry less.” My older son’s response was especially sweet. “I’ve noticed a change, for sure. You’ve been kind of playing around in a way you haven’t before. You’re more funny and lively. There’s been a lot of things we had to deal with that were stressful, but you didn’t scream or yell.” In all my career as a writer or a mother, those are some of the kindest reviews I’ve ever received.

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