LSD, Childhood Memories, And The Science Of Nostalgia

The weather forecast was gloomy, and the sky a dishwater gray. Not what many psychedelic users would consider good conditions for a trip, but something about it felt right. I grabbed a tiny glass vial out of the fridge and carefully siphoned out a small but solid dose, then waited nervously. Although LSD has never made me feel any genuinely negative feelings, I usually can’t say the same about the first hour long wait to feel something. But this time, the onset was remarkably free of anxiety. Long before the first effects made their appearance, I had a strong feeling that it would be a particularly special trip.

The soft rain outside had transformed into something musical, enticing me to leave the house and go on an adventure with no specific goals. I bundled up in several layers of clothes and grabbed an umbrella on the way out, although I never ended up using it. The biting chill couldn’t touch the incandescent warmth that radiated from within me, and I enjoyed splashing through puddles and turning my face up to the cold droplets of rain without a care in the world. The formerly bleak sky now shimmered with magic, and the world seemed vibrant again. I walked through a muddy field, amazed at how joyful such a mundane activity could be.

If MDMA is the love drug, then it could be said that LSD is the nostalgia drug.

LSD users often describe it as invoking feelings of innocence and awe, or bringing them back to childhood. A 2016 fMRI study even found that subjects under the influence of the drug had similar brain activity to that of infants.Among all of the psychedelics I had taken, LSD seemed to be the most consistent in its effects, producing the same distinctive feeling of mystical wonder every time. Taking it on a cold winter day only made the effect more striking, reminding me of the warm and fuzzy feelings I once had near Christmas, when I was still too young to understand commercialism.

Upon returning home, I thought it would be a good idea to tell my boyfriend what I had done that morning. He wasn’t surprised, commenting that it seemed like I had been in an unusually good mood. When I insisted it was the best day of my life, he pointed out that I always say that when I’m on acid. That was true, but I really meant it. Every time. By the evening, the effects slowly began to slip away, and I was genuinely sad to see them go. It felt like parting ways with my best friend from childhood, even though I knew there would more opportunities to partake in the future.

Like most classical psychedelics, LSD primarily produces it’s effects by mimicking serotonin and binding to 5-HT2A receptors. But it also has an affinity for dopamine, adrenergic, and other subtypes of serotonin receptors, and may have downstream effects on oxytocin levels as well, producing a unique headspace with some empathogenic effects. For many users, it has moderately stimulating effects, and can be more clear-headed than other psychedelics; LSD is a popular choice for individuals who microdose in an attempt to gain a cognitive edge. In contemporary clinical research with the drug, subjects frequently reported experiencing “happiness, closeness to others, openness, and trust” while under the influence.

On another memorable occasion, I had intensely felt some of these boundary-dissolving effects after sharing some tabs with a close friend who was visiting from out of state; we laughed and held hands while wandering the halls of our hotel as the patterns on the carpet danced. Later, we talked for hours while wrapped up in a blanket with our arms around each other. He gently stroked my face and hair, and I delighted in the closed eye visuals I got every time his fingertips brushed against my temples. There was nothing awkward about it and we had no regrets about anything while sober the next day.

I couldn’t stop thinking about how sad it is in our society that sharing LSD and physical affection with someone you care about is more taboo than getting drunk and ending a friendship over a trivial argument.

Through my LSD experiences, it started to become evident to me how few outlets of pleasure and recreation in our society are truly innocent. So many socially acceptable forms of recreation revolve around violence, sex, or alcohol, and there is often a sense of shame for those of us who seek alternatives. I started to wonder if this was one reason for rising rates of depression and anxiety, and whether there were some more legal and accessible ways of returning to the magic of childhood.

The science behind nostalgia, specifically the neurotransmitters and regions of the brain activated by reminiscing, may explain why LSD and similar drugs can make users feel closer to childhood. Like LSD, the fuzzy but often bittersweet state is dependent upon changes in serotonin, dopamine, oxytocin, and glutamate. Depending on the specific type of recollections involved, feelings of nostalgia result from combined activity in the brain’s reward circuit and the limbic system, which is responsible for consolidating memories and eliciting strong emotional responses.

Surprisingly, fMRI activity of individuals recalling old memories was similar to that of brain states while processing novel experiences, producing “a double reward — both for familiarity and for novelty.”

In some individuals, abnormal activity in these areas of the brain can lead to problems such as depression or anxiety. PTSD has been linked to structural and functional changes in the limbic system, particularly the hippocampus and amygdala, the latter of which plays a significant role in processing negative emotions and coming up with appropriate responses to them.

It must be acknowledged that nostalgia is not as simple and pleasant as many of us think, but a complex state often tinged with sadness and regret.

Although a stretch, bittersweet nostalgia could even be seen as a sort of synesthesia as our emotions blur and intermingle with each other, much like a therapeutic psychedelic experience where it can feel good to process things that might feel unpleasant in a sober state. It isn’t uncommon for psychedelic users to describe being overwhelmed by many conflicting emotions all at once; these experiences can be very beneficial, much like reminiscing.

One study found that people may be more prone to nostalgia as a coping mechanism when feeling depressed or under a lot of stress. Unfortunately, some may take it too far; overactive dopaminergic neurons in the reward circuit have been implicated in addictive behaviors, which may include putting off important responsibilities in the present moment to daydream excessively about previous years. Fond recollections of the past can also easily tip over into a sad longing for something that will always remain out of reach, worsening depression.

But much like LSD, giving in to nostalgia may be good for us when practiced in moderation; strong feelings of childlike wonder in particular may have some significant health benefits. Some have proposed that awe is the opposite of burnout and could have positive effects on both mental and physical health, as well as workplace productivity in many high-pressure professions. I knew this well from personal experience, having relied on psychedelics as an occasional form of self care while studying a demanding program at a competitive university. Unlike other drugs, alcohol included, LSD is not known for producing an unpleasant hangover or comedown; in my experience, it tended to result in a warm afterglow for a 2–3 day window following a session. Waking up the day after a trip often felt like coming home refreshed from a wonderful vacation.

For those unable or unwilling to take the risk of experimenting with a still-illegal substance, taking time to do beloved childhood activities may produce some of the same beneficial effects on a smaller scale. Spending time in nature might be one of the most effective ways to produce a state of awe and wonder; just 20–30 minutes has been found to boost mood and reduce hormones associated with stress.

Spending some time enjoying beloved childhood activities or looking at old photos can also trigger a rush of dopamine and other feel good neurotransmitters, improving mood in times of stress. Baking, lighting scented candles, or spraying on a favorite perfume are some particularly powerful ways to feel nostalgic, as scent is strongly tied into memories.

In the future, virtual reality technology may be used to trigger strong feelings of awe and produce states like the overview effect, experienced by astronauts as they stare down at the earth from space. Some companies are already working to develop VR simulations of psychedelic trips, and one choreographer has attempted to recreate his ayahuasca experiences in the form of a theatrical show.

As legal simulations start to offer a taste of the psychedelic experience and benefits that come along with it, we may also hope to see psychedelics themselves rescheduled and approved for use as medicines within our lifetime.One day in the future, I very well may be able to pick up pharmaceutical grade LSD from a dispensary or pharmacist, or openly talk about how much it has improved my life and mental health. Until that day, I’ll continue fighting as much as I can to destigmatize psychedelics and shed light on their medical benefits. And I’ll also occasionally enjoy taking them without fear or shame on those quiet days when the sky is overcast and my childhood is calling.