Psilocybin and Autism
Psilocybin and Autism: A World of Potential
How I overcame limitation with psychedelic medicine
I am sure you are aware of magic mushrooms, the funny fungus that hippies take at music festivals to high and wild. In 2021, we have nearly all grown past that stigma. Mushrooms are no longer just for hippies.
As more research is published every year, the potential healing applications of these funny fungi seems only to grow. They show efficacy in treating PTSD, and assisting with death acceptance in the terminally ill. From John Hopkins, to Joe Rogan, psilocybin mushrooms have begun to permeate popular culture. What you may have guessed is that I used them to improve my experience of living with autism.
Who am I?
Let me provide a bit of context. I am a Canadian university graduate (Ba in Philosophy with a Minor in Religious studies), I've been in a healthy partnership for nearly 10 years. I’ve landed and held down several jobs in fields ranging from photography, security, to natural health. I’ve traveled through several countries and have a thriving social group. From the outside it really doesn’t look like my life is a struggle, nor that I may have a “disability”.
For myself only, I do not view autism as a disability. That is, I do not feel disabled. For those who may not be aware, autism spectrum disorder (ASD) is a developmental and sensory processing “disorder”. The characteristics of someone with autism can vary drastically. Some folks may be completely non-verbal and face severe mental impairment, while others (like me) are literate, university educated, and seem only a bit odd to some.
This diversity gave rise to ASD being described as a spectrum. Depending where one lands on the spectrum, their struggles and experience of autism will be very different.
How I Found Out
How I came to find out I had autism is perhaps in an unorthodox way. It was not through a doctor, or a school teacher raising concerns. It was rather through a neighbor, over tea, on a warm summer afternoon.
Although some degree of neurodivergence does run in my family, I never paid much mind to it growing up. These traits were most prominent on my fathers side, as my grandmother, aunt, and uncles all display qualities of ASD to varying degrees.
My father used to call it our family peculiarity. He said that if I wasn’t “careful”, that it could lead to social isolation and mental illness. I could tell this warning was sincere and based on his own life experience of watching his family cope, and living with these traits.
By the time I approached puberty, he would refer to the peculiarity as Aspergers. He was certain he, and I were both on the spectrum.
I resisted the idea of being autistic, or different in any way. Especially as a young man just stepping out into the world, I wanted nothing more than to be accepted and loved by my peers. My resistance led to habits of repression and neglect for any quality of myself that might be remotely seen as “autistic”. If something might have indicated that I was autistic, I ignored it entirely. It’s not that the “artistically flavoured” behaviours stopped, I simply denied their association with autism.
It wasn’t until one summer afternoon when I was made to face this reality head on.
I walked my parents dog Bella often while still living at home. I would often take her to visit another local dog named Cooper.
Coopers’ owner, we will call her Kate, was a mother of two who worked with autistic children at our neighborhood school. My visits with Kate became a regular occurrence, to the point where we were having tea once a week. It was during one of these doggy play dates that Kate asked me a question. We had been chatting about her work when asked “How long have you known you’re autistic?”
I replied “I’m not autistic.”
In response to my outright declaration of not being autistic, Kate asked me some follow up questions that illuminated so much for me. She helped me see that I was displaying all the characteristics of someone with “high functioning” autism. Some of which are:
Specialized interests/fixation (knowing everything there is to know about one topic);
Repetition/Routine (identical behaviours repeated - identical schedule, identical meals etc);
Language peculiarities (Monotone, broad vocabulary, fixation on grammar, odd inflection);
Social Skills (Low eye contact, inability to read facial expression as cues, missing sarcasm);
Emotional Sensitivity (Uncontrollable emotional reactions to seemingly small and specific things);
Sensory Processing difficulties (Sounds or types of touch leading to meltdown, Sensory overload).
Although I never wanted her to be right, what she shared with me that day helped to contextualize a lot of the struggles I had growing up. I felt seen. I felt that it wasn’t alienating or isolating to be different in this way. Kate treated me like it didn’t mean I was lesser in any way. She helped me understand myself.
I will be the first to acknowledge that this exchange is a far cry from a medical diagnosis. Some might even reject this interpersonal event as a valid way for me to determine if I am on the spectrum. For those people, I have only this to say: “too bad”. I may one day seek an “official diagnosis”, but until then you can take my word for it.
To be honest, I’m incredibly grateful that it wasn’t a doctor asking this question. Having it come from a mother, and a woman who works with austisic children, meant that every bit of care and sensitivity was shared with me that afternoon.
Neurodivergence, Difference in Neurophysiology
This new found understanding led to a burning curiosity. If Kate didn’t think less of me, then maybe there is more to this autism thing than just being a disability. I began to research and uncover as much as I could about the autisic brain.
There are myriad studies that document the differences between autistic and non-autistic brains. Many of these studies use complex scientific vocabulary, so to save you from that I will link these studies here* and here*. For those who are happy with a simpler explanation; autistic brains have higher connectivity between some parts of the brain, and much lower connectivity between others. The areas that have low connectivity are correlated with the social, spatial, and linguistic impairments typically associated with autism. These areas of the brain with lower connectivity can even “drift apart” over time, strengthening the impairment with age.
I know this sounds kinda dreary and sad, but I took it as a great starting point. This difference in connectivity became the focal point for a line of reasoning that would end up changing my life for the better.
I was in university at the time Kate and I had our illuminating chat. I was surrounded by active minds, and peers with their own rich and diverse interests. The Venn Diagram that was my academic and work life had me surrounded by holistic-minded folk. You see, I was working at an organic grocery store with a wild selection of supplements, extracts, and other amazing products.
Some of these products were medicinal mushrooms. Polypores, like Reishi, Chaga, and Lions mane. If you haven’t heard of them, you can have a read about them in my article here**.
In this very same store were books with information on many of the herbs we sold. One of these books was authored by a man named Paul Stamets. I bet some of you were wondering how far you would have to read into an article about mushrooms before I mentioned Paul Stamets. It was his research around the effects of Lion's mane on the regrowth of neutrons that sparked my mind.
The Turning Point
I had heard earlier that year about research on how magic mushrooms increase activity between the lobes of the brain. That same research showed an increase in neuroplasticity, the brain's ability to make new synaptic connections.
Here’s where the spark hit.
One mushroom stimulates the growth of new neutrons (Lion’s Mane), and another mushroom can increase new connections throughout my brain(Magic Mushrooms); if autistic brains lack connection between some parts of the brain, then could I take these mushrooms and physically change my brain?
Could I link up those parts of my brain that are “drifting apart”, and lessen my “symptoms” of autism?
Before I dove into a psychedelic experience, I had to know more. How do these mushrooms really change the brain?
The Physiology of the Psilocybin Experience
Psilocybin, or more accurately psilocin (the actual psychoactive ingredient) influences the serotonin in our bodies. It’s known as a serotonergic compound. The effects of psilocybin feel and look different for each person. For me it has been
a deeper awareness of my body and emotions;
Stronger perception of beauty, both visual and acoustic;
More fluid insight into my own mental and emotional workings;
Overall jovial disposition (knowing that everything is OK);
A connection to the mystical, or divine nature of the world.
In one study, psilocybin is observed as increasing the connectivity between regions of the brain that deal with movement and sensation. As well as producing
“Increased sensory processing but altered integration of this sensory information…”
In short, they link up parts of the brain that do not always fire together. This is exactly what I was looking for.
The Power of Intention
The knowledge that psilocybin could change how my brain fired was not enough. The increase in plasticity would not guarantee a positive result unless I could influence the form that those new neural patterns would take. But how could I be certain there was a way to influence the mind in such a manner?
The answer to that question is two-fold: Yoga and some inductive reasoning. My familiarity with yogic practices goes beyond academics. I began a personal study and practice during university. I spent my time reading texts -both western and eastern- and consuming content on yoga and its related topics.
The biggest take away from my studies as it applied to this experiment was: “Everyone has some degree of volitional control over their mind.” Through the power of will, and repetition, we can influence our mental state. Since our neurology is the conduit for our minds, it stood to reason that we all have some degree of influence over our neurology.
Jackpot.
The Experiment
In most cases, anyone familiar with psilocybin knows you’d be foolish to think you could control the mind during the experience. Rightfully so. These organisms have a consciousness and spirit of their own. Surrendering to which will help you reap the greatest benefit. How then could I strike a balance between utter surrender to, and volitional influence over the results of the experience? The best I could do was try.
Like any good experiment, I would need to control and isolate my variables as best as I could. Inspired by Joe Rogan and his psychedelic adventures in sensory deprivation tanks, I chose a similar environment.
I would choose the same dose, float facility, and intention for each time:
90 minute float, no lights and no music;
0.3 grams of dried mushrooms**, ingested 45 minutes before the float;
The intention of generating a theta or delta wave state with as much lucidity as possible.
The intention of lucidity was taken as to bring more conscious presence to my sense of being. Something that the yogis knew was necessary for colitional mastery of the mind.
After each float I would document the experience in a journal. This helped me track any themes, or blocks I experienced within the experiment. The increase in neuroplasticity from the mushrooms can last for a few days after the experience, so I allowed my intentions to stretch beyond the tank.
I would take the next few days slowly and look for anything that would typically provoke difficulty such as:
eye contact;
chaotic acoustic environments;
emotional triggers etc.
When any of these scenarios would happen, I would approach them willingly, invoking the memory of my deep and lucid float state. I was then more centered in the “driver's seat” so to speak. This was for two reasons:
I was deciding willingly to experience the over-stimulating, or difficult experience;
And I was doing so from a more stable neurophysiological and mental state.
I was in awe at how much more room I had in my mind and emotions. I could witness the older responses of shutdown, or anxiety from a greater distance. I would see them coming and respond to the beginning stages with attention, calmness, and loving patience for myself.
Repeating this process nearly a dozen times over a year had dramatic results. Slowly, I lost all difficulty in making and maintaining eye contact with others. I could be in noisy, chaotic environments without shutting down: nothing could push me off center. My ability to connect with others emotions increased ten-fold.
So that’s it. I am cured. I found the cure for autism once and for all.
No. Not even close.
The Results
It was never my intention to “cure” myself. I don’t believe that magic mushrooms are a cure for autism, obviously. Frankly I don’t believe I need to be cured. What I did experience, however, was more than I thought possible:
Ability to maintain eye contact without stress or nervousness;
I can exist in noisy, hyper-stimulating environments, without shutting down into anxiety;
An increase capacity to feel and understand the emotions of others;
The skill to apply the strengths of my mind (strong memorization and recall) to more than just topics I enjoy;
Less triggered by touch and smell sensations;
An overall decrease in feelings of isolation.
I still have some struggles. Mushrooms are not a perfect fix. Even to this day I still can’t always link facial expression to emotions. It’s okay though, because I am able to feel the emotions of other people. This increase in empathic awareness brought on by the experiment has helped me bypass my struggles with facial expression and connect to the emotions of another.
I still fixate on new topics of interest to the point of near obsession. I dont always remember the “right” thing to do in a social scenario, and still feel lost sometimes. I am still very sensitive to sound. Ceramic or glass dishware clanking together is equivalent to an electric shock to my entire nervous system. But hey, that’s why I only use plastic dishes.
I now experience more patience and grace for others, and for myself. It’s better than it ever has been, and that gives me hope.
Take Away
I believe whole-heartedly that my relationship with psilocybin mushrooms has been one of deep healing. I attribute a deeper sense of love, groundedness, and overall joy in my life to my experimentation with these fungi. Despite still experiencing some very real traits of autism, I have been able to approach them in a new light.
I no longer allow the outside world to decide who I am, or what I have. That’s why I have chosen new words to describe my experience with autism. The spectrum that most are familiar with, other than autism, would be light. The light spectrum is a rainbow.
Thus I refer to my brain, and the brains of my fellow spectrum friends as “Rainbow Brains”.
We are all full of light, after all.
Conclusion
I hope that my story has reframed how you see magic mushrooms, and how you might view people on the spectrum.
I was a featured guest on The Human Ethos Project Podcast talking about this very topic.
You can listen to that here*.
If you are curious about micro-dosing, firstly consult with your healthcare practitioner to make sure it is safe for you to do so. Although Psilocybin is typically very safe, it can have very dire interactions with some pharmaceutical drugs, and may not be appropriate for some folks with a history of certain mental illnesses.
Thanks for your time, & happy healing!