Yesterday I finally grieved the childhood I did not get and something inside that felt split now feels joined. This is just my story, not advice. For

A few months back I tried to force healing with a solo mushroom session at home. People kept saying there are no bad trips, only challenging ones that grow you, and I believed it. It blew me open and left me shaky for weeks. Later I stumbled on a careful piece about the bad trip debate that put words to what happened, not every hard experience heals and without a container it can harm, the numbers and stories were a real reality check if you are trauma wired like me https://0fj.cc/ptsd 
I slowed down after that. I found a therapist, did very boring things like sleep, food, walks, and we practiced simple compassion imagery.

Yesterday, on my living room floor with a blanket and water nearby, I put my hand on my chest and whispered shhh it is okay, you are safe, and in my mind a small boy stood in the doorway and looked at me. I showed him the quiet kitchen, the windows, under the desk, and said I am here now, nothing will happen to you. I cried in a way I have never cried. It was not a blast of insight, it was parenting myself for the first time. When it eased, there was a stillness where the critic usually lives. Today anxious thoughts still visit, and I tell myself softly it is okay, and the peace returns.

I am not saying psychedelics are the only road. For me the turning point was gentleness and consistency and knowing I do not have to burn the house down to feel warmth. If you are where I was, convinced this cannot happen for you, please hold on. Radical change is real. Be kind to yourself. You are enough