Ayahuasca Left Me Shattered

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When I was pregnant my husband and I went to Colorado where he unexpectedly had the opportunity to "take off" for a mere ten minutes after smoking the toxic secretions of the Incilius Alvarius — the Sonoran desert toad. What he described, I couldn't wait to experience for myself — not with a toad, however — with a plant: Ayahuasca. The shamanic brew everyone has heard of by now, which combines properties of 2 plants that will take you to the "other" side.

I became obsessed with trying DMT first-hand and started going down the rabbit hole of reading people's experiences, including all the wonderful insights they've been "shown" after taking in the brew. Whenever someone mentioned having taken Ayahuasca I listened, I asked questions and was eventually connected to a local guy who has been training with an indigenous shaman in the Amazons for several years. I gathered all my courage and met him to talk about the session. He inquired about my intention for the ceremony and my health history, but when the date came closer I chickened out. Having garnered all the hearsay about people's experiences while still adjusting to parenthood with a newborn baby, I didn't feel ready.

My curiosity in DMT was triggered while watching "The Spirit Molecule", followed by some Aya documentaries a couple of years ago, which held a tight grip on me ever since. Expanding my awareness, getting in touch with source energy, and having collective, universal wisdom fed to me while floating through a world of colors and intricate designs would be too hard to pass up! Having experienced recreational drugs and hallucinogens like mushrooms and LSD before, I figured I would be somewhat prepared for this kind of visionary expedition.

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The Ceremony

When my dad passed away my wish to try "la medicina" all the sudden intensified. It was this strong desire to potentially be able to connect to him; to see him or feel his presence one last time. But moreover, I wished nothing more than to tell him I was sorry for not being there to say my goodbyes. To give him that last caress and kiss on his soft, aged cheek. When he passed I was 3,800 miles away on a different continent. Something I am regretting to this day. Regretting not having listened to my gut and visited when things went downhill. I never truly understood the meaning of the word "final" until one person that had been there since I took my first breath left his last.

Living in NYC I was forced to jump back into work-life instantly - my responsibilities didn't account for grieving the loss, and healing mental injuries fell by the roadside quickly. Brushing all the sorrow under a mental carpet I was aware that it would need to get some attention sooner or later in order for me to live a happier, less fear-driven life.

The day finally came and I was able to partake in the ceremony.

The shaman and I reconnected and this time I felt ready to take on anything. "Scary or not, bring it on!" I told him. I needed complete emotional cleansing. Something that digs down deeply to resurface the junk. Whatever will happen I am open to it, I convinced myself.

The shaman suggested a Kambo session a few days prior to the ceremony, in order to lighten my first experience. The secretions of the Amazonian Phyllomedusa bicolor frog provided a phenomenal and quick detox. The dried secretions are applied in a row of dots to your skin after the top layer has been lightly blistered with a burning hot stick. The effect comes on fast and intense, but then it's over before you know it and your bucket is full of neon yellow bile - mixed with the 2 liters of water consumed just prior to the application. I felt so extremely light and energetic afterward, that I cleaned my entire apartment for 5 hours straight. I was supposed to do the Ayahuasca ceremony a few days later but the group wasn't confirmed until another week had passed. Leaving me anxious but excited.

"In the universe, there are things that are known, and things that are unknown, and in between, there are doors."

William Blake

The day came and I arrived a little early at the Shaman's house in a low-key NYC neighborhood to get settled. His apartment was a small, clean, and comfy place, filled with a homey atmosphere. Five people including myself were lined up against the wall and encouraged to sit upright throughout the entire journey. All of us came very introspective into this and were mentally preparing for what was yet to come, however only two of us  were newbies taking the brew.

Everybody was facing a small piano and wall of hand-carved musical instruments, except the Shaman who was facing us. Surrounded by intricate hand-carved wooden sculptures, a wall of books, and some gemstones, rocks, and crystals, we were anticipating the visionary insights we would be able to tap into, based on the info I had gathered from friends and personal accounts on the internet.

My stomach was growling and I was looking forward to filling my belly with anything  — even if it's with a nasty brew, after being on a clean diet of raw or steamed vegetables, nut milk, fresh green juices, brown rice, fruits, and veggie broth. A week prior leading up to the ceremony it was recommended to abstain from pork, sugar, garlic, caffeine, dairy, citrus, salt, and sex as that could interfere with the effect of the Ayahuasca.

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The Rules

The Shaman proceeded with laying out the rules of the ceremony: No talking. If one needs help he or she should preferably ask for it in between the Icaros (songs he would be singing to guide the experience), and to be mindful about our puke buckets to avoid unnecessary turbulence. He continued reminding us about the nature of the journey once more and pointed out that if someone has the strong urge to lessen the experience —which he wouldn't recommend, as the tough part is usually the part that ignites healing —he could offer lemon which would help break down the medicine. As an alternative, he also had Melatonin ready, a hormone the body naturally produces, which would put you to sleep. Again not recommended but at least some sort of "out".

I didn't consider any of this since I was certain I would be able to handle whatever was about to happen. Confidently relying on my only true reference points: my experiences with LSD and mushrooms... I could have never been more wrong!

The Shaman started the ceremony by lowering the lights and prepping rape snuff to be blown into our nostrils. I politely declined, having read about the intense burning and discomfort this causes in your nasal ways —something I wasn't ready to work through at this moment. Avoiding the snuff was perhaps my biggest mistake... maybe this would have helped my journey after all?

Who knows, this is history now.

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The Big Boom

I continued to meditate and tried centering myself as much as possible, but felt pretty calm overall. The Shaman started fanning what I believe was a special tobacco smoke onto our heads and into the room and blew smoke onto the crown of our heads, one by one. I was the second one after the Shaman to intake the liquid, which tasted surprisingly good with a strong licorice taste, on the sweeter side. It was nice and smooth and went down easily. I thought "wow, I am doing good, let the show begin!"

The Shaman: "Now, for the next thirty minutes to an hour just meditate. Don't ask yourself if you're feeling the medicine, because trust me, you will know once it has kicked in. I will be serving a second cup in an hour."

Maybe twenty minutes had passed that we sat in darkness and total silence when the hardwood floor at my feet started to slightly protrude and recede, a familiar feeling from my times with LSD. I was waiting for the hallucinations to kick in like swirling patterns, displacement maps shifting and twirling in different colors, projected onto the dark wall or in front of my closed eyes. I was waiting for the walls to "breathe" as they were alive.

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Opening Your Third Eye

The Shaman proceeded singing a beautiful icaro, calling Ayahuasca, and then —literally from one split second to the next: BAM — I was engulfed by a completely different realm! Crisp black vibrating (?) 3d fractal shapes started appearing, bringing to mind the Fibonacci spiral. They appeared like perfect black line art, spaced somewhat distanced from one another, surrounding me infinitely in an ocean of white. It was as if white light was bent on the shape's surfaces, resulting in the glow of the most vibrant colors. As if refracted by a prism.

“A fractal is a way of seeing infinity.”

– Benoit Mandelbrot

A queasy feeling of euphoria spread out from deep within my gut, similar to taking Ecstasy, and I felt producing a large grin. Almost giggling I was thinking, "Oh this is going to be good"… But then instead of a gradual increase in a change of perception I all the sudden found myself outside my physical body. It felt like my consciousness was floating right in front of my head, attached by a string at the position where your third eye is supposed to be.

Holy cow, what is THIS?! What the hell did I sign up for! I am dying! Sensory overload. The usual components of life on earth were pulled away under my feet: No concept of space and time! The now faint voice of my ego was screaming in terror from somewhere else: "I need help!" Pause. "I need to get out of here!" Pause. "I need this to stop! This is way too intense!" Pause.

I then felt my body collapsing in itself, my physical head hanging down like the one of a marionette and I started drifting away into blackness… That's when survival instinct kicked in and I mustered to hiss: "I need help. I am about to lose consciousness. I am dying." I realized the Shaman was singing and deep down somewhere I knew that I would be disturbing the ceremony. I made out the Shaman's presence and energy below this other layer of constantly morphing, swirling shapes but when I looked at him, it wasn't the guy I was sitting in the room with just half an hour earlier. He looked large and stoic (even though in the other "normal" world, he is of smaller and skinnier statue) resembling an otherworldly creature reminiscent of Mayan or Aztek folklore, and not entirely human.

When he stood in profile I noticed black and white feathery wings and his head was crowned with an eagle headdress. Was that some sort of bizarre magic trick? I could have sworn that when the ceremony started he was wearing white linen clothes. Although confused, I wasn't afraid. I trusted him. When I called upon him and heard his familiar voice, it gave me only a smidge of what felt like comfort until I realized there is no EXIT button of this situation and I had to ride it out. I literally panicked internally.

Shaman: "Do you want me to give you lemon?" I mustered all my focus uttering: "Will this make it stop?" He replied: "No, but it will lessen the intensity." I said: "I need it to stop." He said: "You came to me because you said you were ready. And you are ready. Now you just need to do the work. Let me play two more icaros. This too will pass, ok?" I tried to make sense of his words but couldn't figure out what he meant by "work"? Is this imprisonment in hell I found myself in considered to be the "work"? Will I get the insights I was seeking after this passes?

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Welcome To Hell

The Shaman continued the icaros which continued my suffering and personal purgatory as the kaleidoscopic realm engulfed me even more inducing vertigo. I figured I have to let myself throw up the medicine  — and this realization originated from pure survival instinct. I gagged dry a few times with no results. Whatever was left of me was in panic mode. I felt slipping away and all the sudden all I could think about is that if I stopped breathing I would die and never return. So whatever horrendous scenario this was I had to focus on taking deep breaths.

I must have exaggerated the breaths so that I could feel the vibrations from my body reaching my consciousness and to remind myself that I am still alive and well. And I can't put into words how much I was struggling to keep this body alive and breathing. I felt like slipping away into an abyss. Losing focus just briefly would have drawn me in deeper into the experience and I couldn't let this happen because to me that meant death.

I continued to try to gag when suddenly the Shaman moved towards me in one swift motion as if he accelerated through flight. "You don't have to throw up, you know. This will pass. Do you want me to give you some lemon now?" I said: "Yes, lemons please." A moment (or eternity) later, he appeared with the lemons, and I was hoping to come back from no-mans-land, but I hardly felt a difference. I kept thinking, how much longer? How much time has passed? I couldn't make it through much longer...

The swirling shapes and overall too much information kept getting me dizzy, and again THERE IS NO ESCAPE from it. You can't look away from a scene because you're not seeing with your eyes or even with your ego; you are seeing with your mind, your consciousness; you literally are the scene. You can't walk out and shut the door.

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Shape-Shifting

The visuals that presented themselves were of utter intricacy and divine symmetry and overall of a most complex nature.

I kept feeling like throwing up so the bucket was my biggest friend throughout. I kept holding it for comfort but over and over I had to touch its shape to ensure it was the bucket and not another object I was about to hopefully projectile vomit into VERY SOON to get this "medicine" out of me.

The bucket felt more narrow and very long. When I started leaning back against the wall —that I knew for a fact was there when I first sat down—the wall just kept giving, moving back into space accommodating me somehow. I found myself laying completely flat on my back, although it was physically impossible as the seats we were assigned to were very confined in space. When I needed more space, the realm would just adjust: shape-shift.

The lemons didn't bring much relief, and when the Shaman announced the second cup, it occurred to me that only 1 hour had passed. ONE!!! Meaning several more to go, although I must have already lived through eons! I became very unsettled, clinging to the idea that a purge would help me lessen the impact. I continued trying to gag into the bucket when the white creature — which all the sudden looked like a smaller version of the Shaman — was in front of me, or whatever was still left of "me", asking if I wanted to go into the other room with him to sit by the window and catch some fresh air.

He told me: "If you want to make yourself gag, you have to keep your fingers in your throat until you purge." I couldn't fully grasp what he was saying, so I awkwardly tried to find my hands to stuff into my mouth, which felt like an endless tunnel made out of shifting molecules. When my hand reached down my throat, I could see and feel the insides of my throat on a molecular level. There was no rigidity of mass, just loose molecules interspersed by colored dots. I had trouble figuring out where to find my gag reflex. I can't remember if I did puke or not, but I didn't feel better.

The Shaman was now on my other side. He appeared to me as a white naked creature with no genitals, a bit like a white friendly pitbull with a face that had two large black spaces where eyes should be. Then it dawned on me he looked exactly like an alien! I was puzzled because I have never been into science-fiction—not even remotely interested—and now I am talking to an alien that doubles as my Shaman, say what?!

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One fascinating aspect of the visuals was that they were constant and not morphing like they would on LSD or mushrooms. They were crystal clear throughout the session, albeit autonomously animated. The Shaman's established appearance never varied or morphed aside from the two forms he took: The Aztek warrior/shaman and the alien.

He suggested sitting by the window to catch some fresh air. The experience wouldn't be as strong there. He was right. After a while I started feeling better figuring I would be able to handle this now, being more adjusted to my new state of no-escape-purgatory.

Physical Surrounding

When I somehow managed to navigate back into the living room that still seemed familiar featuring its original core qualities, everything was dark and "peaceful". My physical surrounding looked recognizable, albeit skewed. It was as if I had plastic glasses on in which octagonal shapes were etched in consisting of different thicknesses. I thought "ah this is getting better now", little did I know that the Icaros would correlate directly with the effects of the plant.

When the Shaman proceeded with his songs it was like a gradient mask animating from the center out, revealing the entire world again in almost even stronger "glory". I had a really hard time with the dizziness but continued to continuously bend forward and backward on my cushion to scratch the surface of making this bearable at the least. New shapes popped back in with me being one of them? Randomly on the shape level, cryptic codes would appear fading in from one direction, appearing like superimposed holograms so sharp and intricate only a computer could generate.

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When one does Ayahuasca for the first time there is simply no experience that could prepare you entering a completely different state of being. There was no forewarning. No gradual shapes appearing. No easing into.

It's like someone pushed a button and thought it would be a great idea to turn me into a nano atom, splitting my consciousness, soul, being, or whatever you want to call it away from my ego and body in which I unfortunately or fortunately was still trapped.

The intensity of this new state was absolutely terrifying and unbearable, to say the least. Struggling with understanding where "I" was and how all my parts are connected with each other was frightening. It occurred to me that this is pure purgatory and that I need to survive this to return as a fully functioning individual for my then 2-year-old son.

Sophisticated Visuals

A myriad of intertwined black, twirling, most intricate shapes and geometrical designs outlined and pulsing with the most vivid colors of the rainbow, constantly moving, were existing in this realm of white eternity in which "I" or my consciousness just was. Other than on LSD or mushroom the visions were imprinted onto your mind.

It didn't matter if you closed or opened your eyes. The world was ever-present and ever surrounding. I could best describe it by comparing it to wearing a VR headset running psychedelic geometry in 3D space; or like someone sticking your head into a lightbox of the most intricate designs, that were three-dimensional and alive while having your eyelids stapled to your brows when time and space are completely eliminated and your mind starts to exist seemingly separately from your human form—and even that would be a huge understatement.

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The Return

With no concept of time and with my eyes closed there was just the ether. It seemed like I peaked right from the get-go and lasted in that state for almost the entire 3 hours. I can say that I now understand the pictorial of the third eye. All I felt being was an eye. An observer. Awareness. I felt void of emotions. I couldn't say I felt particularly loved or rejected but maybe that was because I was so preoccupied to not lose touch with my physical body while a universe of swirling shapes and codes appeared around me. Everything was just hyper-vivid and exploding with color.

I noticed that when the Shaman finished a song everything retreated into blackness with a few sprinkles of glowing colorful light dots remaining as I was taking in a deep breath and exhaled with utter relief. Feeling better. When he picked back up calling the plant the show started up again in even stronger glory. And then, after what seemed a lifetime, everything faded away as quickly as it came on. I was wondering what was in store for me now? The teachings? Personal interaction with mother ayahuasca? But the room was still and dark and I could make out the Shaman in his white linen clothes finishing his last icaro.

I used the opportunity to tell him that my visions had stopped and if I should brace myself for more? Completely overwhelmed I was ecstatic to hear that the session was about to close.

Never have I been so grateful to be back in my familiar surroundings —the world I was used to. The body I knew. The physical space. The only thing I have ever known.

Now I know why no one would do this ever purely for recreational use. It's simply gut-wrenching and a lot to process for a lifetime to come.

What I learned as I exited the space was that I know nothing and that every believe-system that I had built up over the years had been utterly destroyed.

People, however, have been ready for an alternative healing approach for a long time, which has now culminated to a pinnacle.

Read More in my next story about life after this experience and the integration process

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