Founder’s Insight

I don’t always see it coming. In the last few years, the major episodes have usually followed a significant death or loss. Sometimes it starts with dissociation, then depression, before becoming prolonged anxiety and complete shutdown.

For me, it doesn’t look like flashbacks. It looks like being physically present but completely absent from my own life. On autopilot. Before I have even opened my eyes, there can be dread in my stomach. Making a meal feels enormous. Ordinary life becomes something I am trying to survive.

The frightening part is that I am aware. I can practise gratitude, ground myself and use all the tools I know, yet still be unable to shift it. It feels as though my brain and nervous system are no longer communicating. My body is saying, “I’m unsafe. I’m shutting everything down,” while my mind is calling out for help. I know who I am. I just can’t reach her.

As a single mother, I have kept going because my children needed me. I have answered questions, done what I could and pretended I was okay because I didn’t want them to worry. But inside, I was terrified. Alive, but not really living.

Having lived in that state, I understand why people take their lives. The suffering can feel unbearable, especially when you have no idea when it will end. That is why I feel so strongly about people being believed, supported and given access to meaningful help. Nobody should have to reach breaking point before their pain is taken seriously.

My search for answers began with conventional care, including medications that eventually stopped helping me. That led me to explore somatic therapies, breathwork, nervous-system practices and, ultimately, psychedelic-assisted therapies. Some approaches helped in small ways, but they weren’t enough to bring me out of those most debilitating states.

I am deeply grateful for psychedelic-assisted therapy. In recent years, it has been the only approach that has helped bring me out of my shutdowns. MDMA-assisted therapy helped me through one episode. Most recently, ibogaine brought one of the most profound shifts I have experienced. In the weeks afterwards, I felt my brain coming back online. I could think clearly, feel present and begin to recognise myself again.

I feel incredibly fortunate to have had the resources and access to explore these treatments. I know that access is out of reach for many people, and these therapies will not be suitable for everyone. But having experienced such a profound change, I am excited about what their future could mean for people living with PTSD. These are my experiences, and they are a significant part of why I built this Hub. More people deserve the opportunity to understand their options and access care that could help them.

I have also had difficult medicine experiences. Preparation, the setting, the people supporting you and the care afterwards matter enormously. The work did not end with the medicine. Rest, integration, somatic support, connection and changes in my life have all helped me build on those shifts. I am still learning what I need at different stages. But I have come back from states I feared I would never get out of.

If you recognise yourself here, I have so much compassion for you. I know how frightening it is to feel lost inside yourself, especially when the people around you cannot see what you are going through. You deserve more than being told to think positively or try harder. You deserve care that understands the depth of what you are experiencing.