• Psychedelic Medicine

IBOGAINE | +40 articles

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Why Ibogaine is a promising treatment for addiction

by Faye Sakellaridis | LUCID | 9 Apr 2022

Medical experts increasingly recognize that ibogaine is effective at treating opioid and other addictions due to its ability to “reset” the brain.

After checking into four rehabs in one year, Talia Eisenberg still hadn’t found a way out of her addiction to opiates. She was a savvy, young entrepreneur who owned a small gallery for emerging artists on the Lower East Side and opened New York’s first vape shop. Nevertheless, she was desperate to liberate herself from the continuous cycle of craving, use, and withdrawal. She was tired of what she calls the “literal hell” of endlessly chasing the next high and never feeling satisfied.

Finally, she took the recommendation of a friend and put her faith into something a bit off the beaten path: Ibogaine.

Ibogaine is a naturally occurring dissociative psychedelic derived from the shrub Tabernanthe iboga, native to central West Africa, Cameroon, and Congo. At high doses, it is regarded as one of the most powerful psychoactive substances, with trips often longer and more intense than magic mushrooms or ayahuasca. Why are a growing number of authorities on substance abuse saying it may be the most promising treatment for addiction? The key is its ability to “reset” the brain to a pre-addicted state.

The U.S. declared ibogaine an illegal substance in the 1970s as part of the Nixon administration’s War on Drugs, so people in need of healing have sought out ibogaine clinics in countries where it’s unregulated – like Eisenberg did in Mexico 13 years ago.

Within an hour after taking ibogaine, Eisenberg noticed her withdrawals and cravings subsiding. She recalls feeling that ibogaine was a “miracle plant” for addiction interruption.

“I really felt it was placed on this Earth millions of years ago for this time, when there’s such a crisis happening,” Eisenberg says, referring to the opioid epidemic that’s claimed nearly half a million U.S. lives since 1999.

"Ibogaine is the only substance on the planet that will relieve 99% of opiate withdrawal symptoms within 12 hours of ingestion," says Dr. Jeffrey Kamlet, a physician recognized as a leading expert on ibogaine administration and safety.

What does ibogaine feel like?

Eisenberg’s cravings were quickly quelled due to the way ibogaine alters brain chemistry, but the deeper, root healing was just beginning. For the next ten hours, Eisenberg witnessed a series of vivid visions, what she calls a “life review,” of loved ones and ancestral memories.

“I looked at my ancestors. I saw my grandmother, I saw my family that was killed in the Holocaust. I saw how she lived and it made me never want to put these poisonous drugs in my body again. And I haven’t since that night.”

This vivid re-experiencing of a person’s past is typical of the ibogaine experience. For many, being able to revisit formative life memories, some of them previously repressed, and confront their trauma plays an integral role in their healing.

Of course, everyone’s experience varies. “Some people will see abstract colors, or report looking at some version of a staticky TV set for eight hours,” says Dr. Joseph Barsuglia, a clinical and research psychologist with expertise in ibogaine. "And while some people may process trauma by reliving painful memories and seeing them from a new perspective, others may process it through the body, feeling physical sensations where the trauma is stored," he explains.

Ibogaine can be physically challenging. Eisenberg had difficulty moving her body, and experienced overwhelming heart palpitations. “I felt my heart was going to pop out. My heart was beating really fast, out of fear,” she explains. She also recalls having a sort of “diarrhea of the mind,” in which all her negative thoughts were rising up at once to be released.

That kind of amplification of negative thoughts is common, explains Barsuglia.

“Ibogaine can make it worse for a time period of about 48 hours. But, in my experience, it’s like purging those thoughts out of the brain. The result on day three and four is that people have this total clarity and calmness in their nervous system, so they’re out of that fight or flight mode.”

The effects, from the most acute stage to the less intense reflective period, can last up to 36 hours.

“The peak, visionary part is really only 8 to 12 hours, which is long” says Barsuglia, who served as director of research and CEO at Crossroads, a psychedelic treatment center in Mexico, and is now an advisor at Beond. “But then that whole other arc is the time where people feel really introspective. They’re getting insights, and they feel connected.” This state of deep introspection can last up to 90 days after taking ibogaine.

By the end of her peak visionary stage, Eisenberg remembers seeing a bright light. “I saw good everywhere. I looked at the beach and saw God. I looked at the trees. That was the spiritual awakening I needed. My mind was clear and had been cleaned out.” In the months that followed, she felt clear-headed, deeply connected to her intuition, and passionate about life. And her desire for opiates was gone.

What does Ibogaine do to the brain?

While the body of scientific research on ibogaine is growing, its ability to reset the brain, effectively erasing cravings, largely remains a mystery.

What we do know is that ibogaine affects many different neurotransmitter systems simultaneously. “It almost leaves no stone unturned in terms of what chemical systems in the brain it’s affecting,” remarks Barsuglia.

Ibogaine works on a number of the receptors that regulate the body’s response to pain, including sigma, glutamate, and mu opioid receptors. The way it interacts with these receptors appears to “reset people’s tolerance to opioids, and perhaps other addictive substances as well, like cocaine,” says Dr. Ben Malcolm, a psychiatric pharmacist who researches the interface of psychiatric medications and psychedelics. "It binds to various other targets as well, including glutamate receptors and nicotinic receptors, all of which may also contribute to its anti-addictive effects," he says.

“It’s working on the reward pathways,” says Barsuglia, referring to the way addiction reprograms our brains to only find relief at the intake of a particular substance. “It seems to neurologically reset or balance some of that.”

"Ibogaine is stored in fat cells for months,"
says Barsuglia, "acting like a long lasting antidepressant. It also helps to keep withdrawal symptoms at bay. This provides a window where the patient can integrate deeper, lasting changes in their behavior," he suggests.

“Ibogaine administration typically results in improved cognitive and emotional functioning in the window post-recovery,” says Barsuglia. “So there is frequently a big contrast in how your brain is feeling. You can talk to yourself differently, have greater awareness about your thoughts and patterns, and then make changes that positively impact your behavior. With the right support system in place, this can translate into long term change.”

Eisenberg describes the months following ibogaine as a time when the mind is a “blank slate” that can be reprogrammed by therapy and healthier habits. By the same token, not having the proper aftercare could result in reprogramming of negative habits and behaviors. That’s why Barsuglia and Eisenberg both stress the integral role therapy plays in an ibogaine treatment’s success.

“It’s critical,” says Barsuglia. “It’s such a potent experience, and it can be very challenging to integrate.” He explains that during an ibogaine experience, "people are confronted with some of the biggest revelations of their life, and it’s necessary to have someone help process that."

“It’s not a magic bullet. There’s still a high rate of relapse,”
Barsuglia adds. “So the treatment requires significant aftercare and support in the window following treatment.”

“You need community and support, and to talk to others,”
says Eisenberg. After her experience, she stayed in Boulder, Colorado with her mother for a year, where she saw a psychedelic integration therapist weekly, and cultivated healthy routines like hiking and meditation.

While Eisenberg ultimately got what she needed at the underground treatment house in Mexico, she was unsettled by the clinic’s unprofessional approach and unsafe practices. Motivated to provide high quality, safe ibogaine treatment to those in need, she founded Beōnd, a network of ibogaine clinics in Mexico that make this treatment available as part of a therapeutic program.

Does Ibogaine actually work?

More medical experts are recognizing that ibogaine is uniquely effective at treating substance use disorders. They see similar positive outcomes for depression and PTSD.

“Statistically, the findings of many observational studies suggest that ibogaine as a single agent may outperform existing pharmacological treatments for the most common addictions plaguing the global population, including opioids, cocaine, amphetamines, and alcohol,” says Barsuglia.

“It seems very effective at rapidly detoxifying people from the classic opiates, like heroin,” says Malcolm. “The rates of immediate abstinence, particularly for opiates, seem to be pretty high – at least fifty percent at 30 days out.”

Rates of immediate relief from withdrawal may be even higher. Kamlet, who serves as chief medical officer at Beond, says that in his experience, above 97% of people who are addicted to opiates and take full doses of properly administered ibogaine find that they are no longer experiencing withdrawal symptoms the following day.

"However," Malcolm adds, "more studies that examine long term outcomes, and that track patients afterwards to quantify relapse rates, are crucial to fully understanding ibogaine’s potential to heal."

 
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How safe is Ibogaine?
by Faye Sakellaridis | LUCID | 14 Apr 2022

This article sponsored and paid for by Mexico-based ibogaine clinic Beond.

It almost took too long for Juliana Mulligan to find the help she needed after an ibogaine treatment gone wrong, because multiple hospitals refused to believe that she, a 27 year-old woman with no history of heart problems, was going into cardiac arrest.

After finally being admitted into the fourth hospital, Mulligan went into cardiac arrest six times, revived by a defibrillator after each one, over a period of 36 hours. Eventually, she was put on an external pacemaker to return her heart activity back to normal.

What happened to Mulligan was preventable. "The root of the problem," she explains, "is that the clinic she went to in Guatemala, where ibogaine is not a regulated substance, didn’t properly understand ibogaine’s possible cardiotoxic effects, or adhere to basic safety protocol."

Despite the clinic’s shortcomings, Mulligan, like many other ibogaine patients who seek treatment for opioid addiction, emerged from the experience feeling liberated from her cravings for opiates. She went on to dedicate her life to work in the ibogaine field by working in clinics, becoming a safety and mental health protocol consultant and educator, and providing ibogaine treatment preparation and integration to those seeking treatment.

Is Ibogaine safe?

“Ibogaine carries inherent risk, unless treatment is done by physicians with expertise and prowess to handle those risks,” says Dr. Jeffrey D. Kamlet, MD, board certified American College of Addiction Medicine physician and leading expert on ibogaine administration and safety. When administered properly, following rigorous safety protocols, “no patients need ever die from ibogaine.”

Kamlet, who serves as chief medical officer at the Mexico-based ibogaine clinic Beond, has established what has been called the “Kamlet Safety Protocols,” which he and other doctors – including Felipe Malacara, MD, Beond’s chief clinical and operations officer – have been practicing for decades with thousands of patients without a “single death.”

Proper safety protocols performed by qualified practitioners can transform otherwise risky procedures into safe and scalable treatment options. As an example, Kamlet suggests colonoscopies, which are safe when performed by a gastroenterologist who has specifically trained in that speciality and procedure. “Ibogaine can be safely accessible to the general public when administered by trained physicians in a safe, ethical, and science-based model of treatment that meets or exceeds the U.S. standard of care.”

“If clinics use these protocols and make sure there’s a physician at their bedside that can handle any emergencies,”
says Kamlet, “the mortality rate can be reduced to possibly zero. This can be done safely. It does work.”

How does Ibogaine affect the heart?

The primary risks associated with ibogaine are its cardiovascular effects. Ibogaine may cause bradycardia, which is the slowing of the heartbeat. "In some cases, it can cause profound bradycardia,” says Kamlet, which can be potentially fatal. It may also cause other cardiovascular issues such as QTc prolongation, HeRG blockade and hypotension during the treatment, complex cardiac arrhythmias and QTc prolongation.

The QT interval is the “time it takes for your heart to reset” in order for the heart to “receive another electrical stimulus” between heartbeats, Kamlet explains. If the QT is prolonged for too long, it could throw the patient into a lethal state of arrhythmia.

“Many medications, such as antidepressants, antipsychotics and antibiotics, prolong the QT interval, and are therefore dangerous to combine with ibogaine,” says Vianey Perez, a registered nurse with ICU and ER experience, and Beond’s head nurse. Trained ibogaine practitioners are aware of all medications and nutraceuticals that may be QT prolongers, and know how to expertly wean the patient off those medications so they no longer pose a risk at the time of treatment, says Kamlet.

Heart conditions that interfere with the way electricity is transmitted to the heart, such as Wolff-Parkinson’s White Syndrome or certain genetic conditions, may make someone ineligible for ibogaine treatment, says Malacara, unless they are able to repair that condition and restore a normal flow of electricity to the heart.

“If the heart has any problem with the way it beats or contracts on the ventricle side, which is what makes blood flow throughout the rest of the body, that will be a total contraindication for ibogaine,” says Malacara.

Ibogaine safety protocols

Experts agree that any reputable, safe clinic will extensively test potential patients before treatment, to rule out any possible risks.

“I don’t believe in drive-through ibogaine,” stresses Kamlet, referring to the kind of ibogaine treatment where a clinic administers a one-size-fits-all treatment, without knowing the patient’s full history, and discharges them without therapy or a long-term care plan to achieve sustainable recovery.

“Every patient that I’ve treated, I’ve sat across from and spoken to for hours. For opiates, it requires intensive information gathering,” Kamlet continues. “Before we even talk about your addiction history, we have to get your whole medical history, your personal history, what drugs you are on or have taken, comprehensive lab tests, electrocardiograms, and in some cases more advanced cardiovascular testing. How many times have you been to rehab? Is this your first time seeking recovery? How many times have you relapsed?” That’s just a sliver of the exhaustive questioning required to adequately understand a patient’s backstory.

To ensure maximum safety, the patient must share their full medical history and undergo an electrocardiogram (EKG), which allows the doctor to check the heart for various conditions, says Malacara. “If, in the EKG, we find something that is not suitable, we will ask for another appointment with a cardiologist to get a second opinion” and perform further tests, he says. The patient must also undergo a screening process in which their liver enzymes, blood cell count, and electrolyte levels are assessed.

A big concern is that magnesium and potassium levels are normal, says Malacara, since those help regulate the way the heart beats, and ibogaine ibogaine may affect the heart’s access to potassium. When Mulligan arrived at the clinic, she was “exhausted and underfed,” and therefore lacking the electrolytes, like magnesium and potassium, that one would normally have when properly fed.

Unlike other plant medicine pre-ceremony diets, which suggest eating lightly days before the ceremony, it’s better to be physically fortified before ingesting ibogaine.

“Fasting, as well as excessive sweating (extenuating exercise) can cause a severe water and electrolyte depletion,” says Malacara. Because magnesium and potassium are “extremely involved” in the cardiac contraction and electric flow function, “an impaired balance or deficient ratio between these elements is potentially life threatening on its own,” especially when combined with the QT prolongation effect of ibogaine.

Other conditions that could potentially preclude an individual from taking ibogaine are those that affect the frontal lobe of the brain, such as schizophrenia or certain kinds of head trauma, says Malacara. Liver impairment could also interfere with ibogaine treatment. "Patients who have damaged livers due to substance abuse issues, particularly with alcohol, must wait until their liver returns to proper condition before undergoing treatment," he says.

Many clinics, including Beond, administer flood doses, which Kamlet defines as a single oral dose large enough to get the desired effect. “It’s the maximum amount of ibogaine I can give in a single treatment to get the expected results with perfect safety.”

Dosage is also determined by the extent of their usage: how much they use, method of ingestion and how often. “We adjust the dosage of ibogaine according to how much they need to kill their habit,” says Kamlet. “We don’t want to give them more than they need.”

If the patient is not addressing substance issues, dosing is determined by their intentions for taking ibogaine, psychological status, weight, labs, EKG, and a host of other mental and physical factors, Kamlet explains.

How to know if an Ibogaine clinic is safe

"Medical emergencies can be avoided if the providers diligently follow comprehensive safety protocols, understand how ibogaine affects the cardiovascular system, and are qualified to handle any adverse event that may come up during treatment," says Kamlet.

For a prospective ibogaine patient, there are clear indications to look for to determine if a clinic is (or isn’t) safe.

An immediate red flag, says Mulligan, is if the clinic doesn’t ask for your medical history – especially your EKG, liver panel blood work, and what medications you’re on – in advance. “This is the most basic thing.”

Establishing relationships before the patient arrives, so that their situation can be fully understood, is also essential, since patients may lie about what drugs they’re taking, and urine tests aren’t always 100% accurate, says Mulligan.

Mulligan also suggests assessing whether the staff is well-equipped to address your needs. How long have they trained, and what kind of training do they have? Do they provide mental support before and after the treatment? “The clinic’s staff should practice trauma-informed training, especially training focused on sexual abuse, because a really high percentage of people who struggle with drugs have had sexual trauma.”

Does the clinic have the money and resources to deal with time-sensitive emergencies? “My provider pawned his computer to pay for an ambulance, since you have to pay upfront,” recalls Mulligan.

Kamlet emphasizes that Beond’s mission is to provide an expert level of safety and care for ibogaine treatment that has not been previously available. “What we’re doing at Beond, nobody is doing.”

“There’s a model of ibogaine treatment where no one ever has to die,”
says Kamlet. “That needs to be the minimum standard of care.”

 
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One Vet’s Ibogaine & 5-MeO-DMT Experience for PTSD and TBI*

by JL | Psychedelics Today |

A former NAVY SEAL struggling with PTS and TBI is granted ibogaine and 5-MeO treatment in Mexico by an anonymous donation through VETS, and returns home with more than he could have ever imagined.

Whoever paid for me… thank you.

It was the most profound weekend of my life.

I didn’t expect too much. I guess I anticipated that this would be like most of the other “cutting edge” treatments for my traumatic brain injury and post traumatic stress: pretty cool, it’d help a bit, I’d be grateful, but that’d be about it.

But here I am, two weekends from my treatment, struggling to find the words to accurately convey how transformative this was for me—how transformative it will be for any of us who are willing to let go, really. I keep typing things and then erasing them, thinking I must sound like a crazy person—some wild-eyed zealot who’s just too far-out to relate to. But then I think… this is the most far-out thing I have ever experienced in this life and whatever crazy talk I throw at you won’t be crazy enough to cover what went down.

In other words: I expected a firecracker and I got about six pounds of C4.

I guess I’ll just stop struggling for adjectives and “as ifs” and just tell you my story. Keep in mind please, as I do, that I can’t stand hippie, new age bullshit, and while I grew up in the church, I’m not particularly religious.

So yeah… joke’s on me.


We’re first introduced to the rest of the group via Signal secure text messaging. I’m stoked to see that a classmate of mine from BUD/S, whom I hadn’t seen in almost 20 years, is going to be there, but the other guys I don’t know. Everyone seems a little held back, but that’s to be expected considering the circumstances.

We meet in San Diego on Friday afternoon for lunch, which is to be our last meal for the day, as we need to be in a fasted state for the ibogaine treatment that night. Little did I know that it would be pretty much the last thing I’d eat until lunch on Sunday.

After an uneventful drive of several hours, we arrive at the treatment house in Mexico and everything kicks into gear as a smoothly-functioning operation. The facilitators arrange the spaces, the doctor and his medical staff take urine samples, do EKGs on all of us, start IVs, and lay out some pretty impressive medical support gear for what I imagined to be a fairly low-risk event.

**Quick aside here: when I signed up for this, I thought it would be beneficial, sure, but as I started doing the preparatory work that I was sent by the organization, weirdly, things started coming up. Family issues. Relationships. Parts of me and things I’d seen and done that I’d buried out of shame or disgust. They said, “The medicine would start working before you take it,” and it really did. So by this point, I was open to something a lot more than what it appeared to be on the surface. So back to our story….

Evening approaches, and we gather around the fireplace. There’s an air of solemnity, but I can tell not all of us are bought in. Or maybe just none of us are at 100% yet. Most of us are pretty closed off, if still willing. It’s just kind of a SEAL thing, I guess.

We write down what we want to leave behind, and we take turns burning our paper in the fire. It’s quiet except for the crackle from the flames, and then the doc passes out our ibogaine doses (measured for our bodyweight) in little wooden bowls. It feels like a sacrament.

Solemnly, we take our medicine, and one by one, the facilitators lead us upstairs to be saged and smudged as a cleansing before moving to our mattresses. Curiously, the cleansing has a gravitas and weight to it that crumbles and dismisses all the shallow and thin echoes of spirituality in yoga studios and SoulCycles across Los Angeles. I receive it with humility.

Settling in on our mattresses, it’s dark. Only flickering candles and the fading light from the sun just below the ocean’s horizon remain to illuminate the room. The medical staff move quietly through, attaching heart monitor leads and O2 clips on our fingers and chests. Once they complete their tasks, I pull my eyeshade down over my eyes and lay back to wait.

Hyper-attentive to my mind and body, several times over the next half-hour, I think, “Is this it?… No… not yet…”

And then it comes.

Uber-detailed and realized visions flood my mind’s eye. They’re nightmares in 4K. I’ve never seen anything with the detail and clarity through my physical eyes that I’m experiencing now. I am completely in a dream yet 100% in my body. Unknowable machines possessed with alien intelligence build and fold out of the space like fractals from some dark pit. Strange visions that make no sense. A nightmare buzzing, like the sky is being chainsawed apart, howls with a clearly defined shape (shape?!) above my head. There’s a loud talking, without cadence or expression, just behind my left ear. It never ceases or pauses and I understand not a word. I open my eyes under the eyeshade and immediately I’m in fields of stars. I close them and I’m back in an alien, machine hell. They told us that if it gets to be too much, raise your eyeshade and you can come out of the visions, but I keep my eyeshade on. I want all of what the medicine has for me.

I begin to dry-heave. I feel hands around me, holding me in a sitting position. The retching is violent and back-to-back, four, five, eight times. Soon I’m laying down again, fighting the urge to vomit. The visions add strange, expressionless, soulless people standing and sitting around me. Again, they’re alien; there is nothing human about them. It must be hours that I try to make sense, assign meaning, figure out the visions, until, worn out, I give up. Just let them come, I think, and I let go.

Innumerable hours pass, or is it minutes? I try to move my arm and my leg, and while I can, nothing’s coordinated. It’s as if I’m operating a crane, and while I can pull one lever at a time, I can’t make the arm do anything resembling a smooth or efficient motion. I really need to piss but can’t conceive of trying to stand right now.

At some point during the night, six, seven, eight hours later, the “visionary stage” ceases, my mind quiets, and the literal nightmare I’ve been in ends. I’m in a trance-like state now, apparently what they refer to as the “contemplative stage.”

Bullshit.

All I’m contemplating is how tumbled and empty I feel. I still need to piss but can’t move. Unfocused, I feel like I’ve had a hard reset and I’m in the BIOS of the motherboard. Everything is in two-toned, 8-bit graphics. I pull off the O2 monitor and scrape off the eyeshade. I close my eyes but don’t sleep. At some point, I notice the sun rise.

Several hours later, I look around the room. All of us are glued to our mattresses in various interpretations of a full-body rictus. No movement.

Sometime later in the afternoon, around three or four I’d guess, I get up and make my way to the restroom and then downstairs. I manage to grab a banana off the counter (which takes a couple tries) and slide down to the floor and eat it. Judging from the expressions on the faces of the staff, I must look like shit… and it appears that they’ve seen this before, or maybe even experienced this themselves.

One of the facilitators comes to me, brings me to the couch, and does some “energy work” on me. I’m too worn out to resist the hippie bullshit… and surprisingly, it helps. A lot. Even though they had no meaning to me, I manage to write down my visions (not that I’ll ever forget them), then make it back upstairs to my mattress.

Several hours later, we attempt dinner. I don’t know how much the other guys manage to get down, but I think I get about two spoonfuls. There’s very little movement and lots of agonized expressions around the table.

Back to bed we go in silence, and in the dark of Saturday night or perhaps the wee hours of Sunday morning, my trance fades and I fall asleep.

When I wake on Sunday morning, I feel like a fever broke in the night. You know the feeling: You’re worn out, exhausted, but you know it’s over. The sickness is gone, leaving only relief.

Still weak, but ravenous, I make it downstairs and as my greedy hands begin to shove food towards my mouth, the facilitator kindly tells me that I still need to be in a fasted state for the 5-MeO-DMT, which we’ll be doing in a few hours.

MORE psychedelics?! I honestly don’t feel up for it. I don’t really want any more than what I’ve just experienced, but I’m in this for the whole enchilada (food metaphors? Fuck, I’m hungry) and I’m committed to following the whole program. I can tell I’m not the only one with hesitation though.

As the rest of the guys make their way downstairs, we gather again around the fireplace and the staff talks us through what’s going to happen next. One of the other guys expresses his doubts about the 5-MeO-DMT, and the facilitator reassures us that this is nothing like the ibogaine. It’s complementary, she says, a nice bookend to what we just experienced. “Hope they’re not matching bookends,” I think.

As she finishes with the brief, the two SEALs there helping out (who had gone through this before) offer a few words: “It’s like a deep dive in the ocean. You’re down 150 feet and it’s beautiful and quiet, and the water pressure is intense, and you’re at peace… but then you look over, and there’s a deep, dark abyss. If you have it in you, go down there. That’s where the jewels are.”

I think we all make up our minds at this point to go all the way, no matter what it feels like.

The staff gives us the order we are to go in and I’m number three of five. They tell us to go wait our turn by the pool, and mention it’s helpful to write what we’re feeling, so I grab my journal and head out to find a private spot by one of the fire pits around the pool. I begin to write, awkwardly, my muscles still not in agreement with my head yet, and I manage to stain the top of a clean page with: “I don’t I.” Frustrated that my hand, brain, and intentions all seem to be separate entities, I try again. This time, slowly, I write:
Ibogaine was a nightmare in 4K that I couldn’t stop or wake up from. I could make no sense of it then or now. I think I had expectations for the medicine as much as I tried not to. I have no expectations of 5-MeO. None whatsoever. It will be what it will be.

I start to put the pen down… but pause… and write:

I feel… different

It’s true. Something’s subtly very different. I write again:

I feel… present

Shocked into an introspective silence, I look inward and feel a clean openness in my soul, like all the accumulated and stored entanglements of my life have been quietly discarded, and I now only recognize they had ever been there by their absence.

Kind of stunned, I sit there with myself and savor the feeling. I haven’t felt this… free since I was probably about twelve. And as I rest in this quiet, subtle peace, awestruck… I hear our first 5-MeO guy scream from the house 50 meters away.

Shit.

As my turn arrives, I’m led into the house by one of the SEALs helping out. Up the stairs, I’m smudged and saged again, and led into the room. It’s kind of sacred. Candles. Music. The doctor and facilitators have really set the space and I can feel it. Speaking in hushed tones, they sit me up on the single mattress covered in a spotless white sheet, and almost in whispers, describe what’s about to happen. The doctor shows me the vaporizer, inscribed with a medical caduceus, and the three doses of toad venom I’m about to encounter. “The profound from the humble,” I think, and then I’m inhaling the “handshake dose,” just to familiarize me with the process. Easy enough, and with no effects to speak of, I pull my eyeshade over my eyes and we move on to the first real dose. I inhale again as the doctor instructs me, holding for a count of ten, then exhale and fall backwards as instructed.

Only just as I begin exhaling, the world explodes. Gorgeous fractals in vivid primary colors, more detailed and distinct than anything my eyes have ever viewed fills… my field of vision? No… my field of consciousness. I can barely feel that I have a body. Bliss suffuses all of me (what is “me”?) and all I feel is love. I remember what the SEAL downstairs said—that if you can handle it, go deeper. Since I’m able to have these thoughts, I figure there must be room left, so I clumsily signal for another dose. Halfway in my body, I’m pulled to a sitting position and again feel the vaporizer against my lips. Drawing deeply and holding, I hear the doctor count down from five. Far away, he whispers, “Exhale…”

…and I die.

No, really. I die. And here is where words begin to fail.

I feel my body atomize and it’s GONE. I’m in a blackness that is teeming, but warm. Infinite. It’s gentle, but I sense that the gentleness, while truly the essence of this Consciousness, is not all of it, and the power… there is no word that can convey the awesome power of this place. It is infinite possibility. And I? I am a speck, a tiny ripple, a wavelet upon an Ocean so vast and deep, how could I have ever thought; how could I have forgotten that I am no less separate from this great Consciousness than a wave is seperate from the Ocean? How can a ripple be apart from the sea? I am no longer “me,” but still completely “I.” And I remember what I am.

I feel a scream coming from deep, and it happens—from somewhere I scream, and I hear it as an observer. But here’s the weird(est) thing. Time has no meaning here, and as I hear this scream, I know that this scream is not just from “now.” It’s from five years ago, and 20, and from when I was two, and from when my parents divorced, and from Afghanistan, and from yesterday. The linear time we live in has condensed to a singularity and this scream is from my now, my past, and probably my future.

I don’t know time, space, or have any ties to what I used to know. There is only existence returned from whence I came, and then, at some point in time or space…

…I walk through the Gates of Heaven.

(If you’re still with me, believe me, I know how this sounds.)

Hands around me, bright light more beautiful than anything I have ever seen, and the purest love, acceptance, grace, and right-ness permeates my existence. The greatest feeling I have ever experienced or could possibly imagine is dwarfed by this feeling. I pull my eyeshade off, and with pure wonder and without the slightest insincerity, think, “Are we dead? Are all of you angels?” I lay there on the mattress, alternately weeping with the sorrow of what we’ve lost and laughing with the realization of what we are, and I whisper, “I am born.”


I will never be the same. I wish I could convey more of this experience to you but words are useless. Ibogaine reached deep inside of me and wrapped up all my trauma and sorrow. It wrapped it up in a dark, wet, moldy, wool blanket and when I screamed, it all came out. I walk around every day in awe, feeling this, seeing with new eyes. I didn’t learn anything, I just remembered.

My brain works now too. It’s the strangest thing. Words flow. Thoughts sizzle. Synapses fire and I can discuss, read, think, and elucidate in ways I haven’t been able to in at least 15 years. I feel smart again. All the TBI had made things slow and fuzzy, but these medicines lit up all the lobes, cortices, stems, and folds of my brain and shocked them back into activity (not a scientific analysis, of course). It was starter fluid for my grey matter.

My relationships are healing. My dad and I are reconciling. He’s so happy. So am I.

I’ve been reading everything I can get my hands on regarding this therapy and the history and use of psychedelics (I prefer the newer term, “entheogens” these days—it means to “create the divine within”).

These are not drugs. This is powerful, powerful medicine and it has the potential to do enormous good. These are sacraments that require much of you and will bring you what you need and are prepared for.

It is not the molecule, but the door that it opens.

To my benefactor: thank you. I’m going to do my part to take this newfound remembering and make the world better, and bring it to as many people as I can. And the most unexpected, beautiful realization? The Brotherhood that we fight with, for, and next to—the ones who scar us and scar with us are also the ones healing us. What an amazing thing!!!!

I never thought I’d be signing off like this, but….

Love and Light,

JL

*From the article here :
 
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Could ibogaine help address the opioid crisis?

by Faye Sakellaridis | LUCID | 22 Apr 2022

What started as a taste of heroin at 16 years old turned into a daily, and costly, habit for Phil Tricovich. After dabbling with opiates in his late teens and early adulthood, he was prescribed pain medication for a back injury in 1997, which “sealed the deal” on his addiction. “It amplified my underlying addictive issues,” he says.

At his worst, he was taking 100 milligrams of Oxycodone and $500 worth of heroin a day, along with methadone. “I was stocked for World War III in my medicine cabinet,” Tricovich recalls.

In 2004, Tricovich was introduced to Dr. Jeffrey D. Kamlet, a leading expert in addiction medicine and ibogaine administration, by a pharmacist who felt he might benefit from meeting the physician who had been successfully treating opiate dependency with an unorthodox approach.

For the next five years, Tricovich repeatedly declined Kamlet’s suggestion that he try ibogaine, skeptical that a strange drug he had never heard of could be the solution to his problem.

Tricovich attempted to quit cold turkey several times – once under Kamlet’s supervision – managing a stretch of two years without touching an opiate before going right back to it.

“You can only go through [quitting cold turkey] so many times. It becomes more difficult,” says Tricovich. “Addicts don’t know that. I didn’t know either.”

Acute opioid withdrawal, which lasts 7-14 days immediately after quitting, is a notoriously hellish experience. “If there is such a thing as the Judeo-Christian model of hell, it’s kicking opiates cold turkey,” says Kamlet. “You’re freezing cold, burning up, shaking, and unable to control your body temperature or bowel movements.”

It’s different from any other substance withdrawal states, explains Kamlet, because your brain lacks the chemicals that would normally protect you from physical or psychological pain, making it the “ultimate fight or flight panic experience. It’s brain gone haywire.”

Acute opioid withdrawal is followed by 60-90 days of post-acute withdrawal syndrome (PAWS), during which the individual feels restless, irritable, discontent, and “craving opiates like oxygen,” says Kamlet.

It’s common for people to act unlike themselves when attempting to quit opioids in order to mitigate their suffering, Kamlet explains. “It will turn the best people into bad people. If the most honest of people had an opiate dependency and were going into acute opiate withdrawal, they would steal 20 dollars from their mother’s wallet to get a fix.”

How effective is ibogaine treatment for opioid addiction?

According to the U.S. Centers for Disease Control and Prevention, opioid-related deaths increased to 75,673 in the 12-month period ending in April 2021, up from 56,064 the year before. Opioid addiction has claimed a half million American lives since 1999.

“Opiate dependency and opiate-related overdoses are predicted to be on a steady incline due to the fact that most of the heroin being sold on the streets today is in fact the synthetic opiate fentanyl and its analogues,” says Kamlet, “which can be hundreds of times more potent than heroin.” By the time the reader finishes this article, approximately 3-5 people will have died from an opiate overdose, he adds.

Ibogaine could “absolutely” have a huge impact on the opioid crisis, says anthropologist and ibogaine researcher Thomas Kingsley Brown, PhD due to its ability to “reset” the brain to its pre-addicted state, effectively bypassing acute opiate-withdrawal and the 90 day PAWS.

“From the first time I witnessed it, I saw this miraculous treatment. I almost thought it was too good to be true,” says Kamlet, who considers himself to be a medical skeptic.

In 2009, Tricovich found himself at a critical point, knowing his opiate usage would inexorably lead to jail or death. On the surface, things were going well – he was newly wed with a pregnant wife, and successful in his executive position in a tech sales company. But he couldn’t shake his habit. Desperate to try anything, he finally decided to head to Cancun with Kamlet, admittedly “without high hopes,” to try ibogaine treatment at a clinic Kamlet was taking his private patients to personally oversee the treatments.

After Kamlet administered the dose, Tricovich waited restlessly, sweaty and irritable from 12 hours of no opiates, convinced this was a complete waste of time.

“All of a sudden,” says Tricovich, “this tremendous peace came over me. And I noticed – I’m not sick anymore.”

Aside from ibogaine’s “reset” effect, the mental and emotional journey induced by ibogaine was therapeutic for Tricovich. He recalls the life review – typical to many ibogaine experiences – in which he witnessed his entire life on a “million movie screens at the same time.”

Facing those memories was crucial for Tricovich, who partly attributes not having properly dealt with his adolescent PTSD and “undiagnosed depression” to why he previously relapsed. “It goes through every shitty thing you did to another human,” forcing you to confront those incidents head on. Addressing the root causes of addiction, which commonly involve unprocessed trauma, is also a key part of ibogaine treatment.

After his treatment, Tricovich wasn’t just craving-free – he felt like a new person.

“It changed everything about me. It changed the way I look at everything. It changed the way I view myself. It changed the way I view the world.”

Is Ibogaine a Cure?

Kamlet is firm that the recovery process is lifelong, and does not end after taking ibogaine. “Ibogaine is not a cure for addiction. It’s the cure for withdrawal symptoms from opiates, as well as other commonly abused substances, including alcohol.”

Patients tend to emerge from ibogaine experiences feeling rejuvenated and excited to be alive. It is hypothesized that ibogaine is metabolized in the liver into noribogaine, which is stored in the fatty tissue for about 90 days, and functions somewhat like an antidepressant. “The day after a flood dose of ibogaine, patients have a 90 day window of opportunity where they are extremely teachable and open to integrating healthier behaviors,” explains Kamlet.

Kamlet advocates that ibogaine treatment be followed with talk therapy and support groups, such as Narcotics Anonymous (NA), 12 Steps, or other recovery programs that the patient feels comfortable with.

“We have a sustainable success rate that far surpasses anything seen in the United States for people who actively integrate into a life of recovery, be it therapy or meetings,” says Kamlet, who serves as chief medical officer of the Mexico-based ibogaine clinic Beond. Brown agrees that ibogaine is hugely effective “when combined with other treatment modalities.”

"On their own, traditional programs may not be as effective. In the typical U.S. model of patients entering residential detox followed by 30-90 days of residential rehabilitation, the relapse rate is thought to be about 90%,"
says Kamlet.

“There is every reason to do what Beond is proposing to do,” says Brown, who authored a promising MAPS study on ibogaine in 2017. “Have addiction counseling and psychotherapy before and after treatment.”

Tricovich waved off Kamlet’s recommendation of going to meetings after his treatment at first, not realizing his pronounced mood boost was temporary. He relapsed once more before taking Kamlet’s advice seriously, and began attending regular NA meetings after his second ibogaine treatment. To this day, he’s been sober for 10 years.

“It’s not a cure. You have to do the work,” says Tricovich. “But it helps you get to the place where you can do the work.”

 
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Could 'miraculous' drug be the cure for opioid addiction?

by Mindy Basara

Some Americans are heading to Mexico for a treatment some Marylanders are calling "miraculous."

Josh, who wished not to share his last name or show his face, has a good job and a young family, but that wasn't the case several years ago.

"I was, basically, for lack of words, homeless. I was in a homeless shelter," Josh said.

He was struggling with addiction and on the verge of suicide when he heard about a treatment called ibogaine.

"I definitely didn't want to live the way I was living anymore, and either this was going to work or that was it -- I was done," he said.

Josh traveled to a clinic in Mexico where is legal. It's a schedule 1 drug -- a psychedelic. It's derived from a plant called iboga, which is found in the African rain forest.

A trip from ibogaine lasts anywhere from four to 10 hours. It puts users in a dreamlike state, where they process repressed memories and trauma. Some describe it as resetting their brain.

Josh said after his dose, he didn't feel like he needed any drugs anymore.

"Almost as soon as I got back, I knew my life from before was completely done," Josh said.

Couple George Beck and Diane Baklor accompanied Josh on that life-changing visit. Beck was able to help guide Josh through the experience, because he has been through it himself. He had also struggled with addiction until an ibogaine treatment.

"Literally, went to a facility, woke up eight hours later after taking ibogaine, perfectly cured. There was no craving. I really didn't think about taking a pill," Beck said. "The addiction was literally gone."

"Had I not seen it with my own two eyes, I wouldn't have believed it,"
Baklor said.

Beck and Baklor feel so strongly about the benefits of ibogaine, they moved to Mexico and opened their own treatment center: The Power of I Institute, or POI. It's a holistic, all-inclusive retreat in Cabo San Lucas. Their hope is to one day provide this kind of treatment in Maryland.

Beck and Baklor were encouraged when the Maryland Legislature passed the ibogaine treatment study program to look into the effectiveness and safety of ibogaine for opioid dependence.

WBAL-TV 11 News reached out for an update on the study and received a response, saying, "This study concluded that, although ibogaine has been investigated internationally in uncontrolled, observational trials with some positive results, it has also been associated with serious adverse side effects, including death. There is not enough research on ibogaine to conclude that it is a safe treatment option for opioid use disorder."

Researchers at Johns Hopkins Center for Psychedelic Research echo that opinion.

"Our field has a little bit of a concern about it, because of the potential for medical consequences," said Kelly Dunn, PhD.

Dunn said there have been a handful of cardiac deaths and also prolonged psychosis tied to ibogaine.

"There is not a lot of data regarding what the exact right dose would be, and we know that there's a very fine line between a dose that might have effectiveness for the treatment of opioid abuse disorder or addiction in general, and a dose that would cause significant health consequences, like cardiac impairment," Dunn said.

Beck and Baklor said they take extra safety precautions at the POI Institute and have not had any patients suffer adverse effects.

"It's a medically-focused facility, so people have to be screened ahead of time. We do all their lab work when they get there … reviewed by a doctor," Baklor said. "The actual procedure of the treatment is RN supervised completely and they're monitored the entire time, hooked up to an ECG machine, IV's for fluid."

Baklor believes pictures of a client when she first arrived and about a week after treatment speaks for themselves.

"It's not only saving people's lives with addiction -- We've treated navy seals with PTSD, we've treated people for depression and anxiety. It's just miraculous," Baklor said.

 
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This is a short documentary about Ibogaine treating addictions in Africa. Featuring VICE Reporter Hamilton.

A big thanks to Opi_Kid_Rock for posting this great video!
 
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National Institute on Drug Abuse to test Ibogaine for Addiction Treatment

by Tanya Ielyseieva | Truffle Report | 4 Jan 2022

The opioid-use crisis has gotten significantly worse since the onset of the COVID-19 pandemic, according to the U.S. Centers for Disease Control and Prevention. Overdose deaths rose at a rate of 28.5 percent in the 12 months ending this past April. The number one cause of these deaths is related to the use of both prescribed and illicit fentanyl — a synthetic opioid used as pain medication and which is frequently added to street drugs. The recovery process by conventional options is not that promising for opioid-addicted individuals. New addiction treatment methods have become a necessity.

U.S. Government Agency partners with Delix Therapeutics

The U.S. government has taken an important step in addressing the national substance addiction crisis by partnering with Boston-based neuroscience startup Delix Therapeutics to study a non-hallucinogenic version of psychedelic drug ibogaine.

The National Institute on Drug Abuse (NIDA), a federal scientific research institute under the U.S. The Department of Health and Human Services’ National Institutes of Health (NIH) will test Delix’s patented version of a non-hallucinogenic and non-toxic ibogaine analog for its potential use in treating a range of substance use disorders.

“Partnering with NIDA is an important step towards further uncovering the diverse pharmacological benefits of psychoplastogens, above and beyond our own in-house clinical development programs, and represents the potential for Delix to more rapidly advance our innovative CNS treatments to patients who need them,” said Delix CEO Mark Rus. “Delix is deeply committed to broadening access to safe, fast-acting, and long-lasting medicines for many of the leading causes of disability worldwide, including to help the roughly 20 million people in the U.S. suffering from substance-use disorders.”

The research will be conducted under NIDA’s Addiction Treatment Discovery Program (ATDP). This program works with industry partners to perform preclinical screening, evaluating novel and promising pharmacotherapies that may be more effective treatments for the medical management of substance-use disorders.

Non-Hallucinogenic Ibogaine

Ibogaine is a powerful psychedelic substance derived from the iboga shrub native to West Africa. The Bwiti religion uses different parts of iboga for healing and religious purposes. It is becoming regarded as one of the most promising psychedelics for use in addiction treatment — both anecdotally and through a number of clinical studies. Naturally occuring ibogaine is not the ideal treatment for substance-use disorder due to its intense psychedelic experience and risk of cardiovascular diseases.

“The therapeutic potential for ibogaine is huge,” said Olson in an interview with Forbes. “There are some indications that a single dose can keep people with opioid use disorder drug-free for months.”

Ibogaine is a Schedule I drug in the United States, which means it is illegal and has no medical value. According to MAPS, it’s not considered fit for recreational use.

Delix Therapeutics, co-founded by Nick Haft & David E. Olson, was built upon the research of Olson and his team at the University of California, Davis. According to Delix, Olson’s lab discovered that non-hallucinogenic psychoplastogens are capable of producing sustained therapeutic effects after a single dose. Delix Therapeutics has made its mission to create a non-hallucinogenic ibogaine analog with the potential for treating addiction, depression, and other psychiatric disorders.

“My goal is not to try to convince someone who has undergone a psychedelic experience that the hallucinogenic effects that they experienced were not important to them,” Olson told Wired. “And I’m not saying that a certain patient population might not benefit from the hallucinogenic effects.”

In December 2020, Olson and his lab published a study on their first compound, a water-soluble, non-hallucinogenic, non-toxic analogue of ibogaine — tabernanthalog (TBG) or DLX-7. According to the study, the compound reduced alcohol- and heroin-seeking behaviour and produced antidepressant-like effects.

“We need a drug that people can keep in their medicine cabinet and this is a significant step in that direction,” said Olson.

Then in April 2021, Olson and his team published another study with similar results with another of their compounds, which has a similar structure to MDMA, called DLX-1 or AAX.

“Preclinical results published in Nature last year demonstrated that DLX-7 reduces alcohol- and heroin-seeking behavior, and we are thrilled to collaborate with NIDA to further evaluate its potential as a novel treatment for addiction across a variety of substances and models,” added Olson.

Delix’s DLX-7 does not cause cardiac arrhythmias and intense psychedelic experiences like ibogaine.

“We started with the ibogaine structure because of its fantastic efficacy, and we whittled it down to its essential feature,” Olson told Forbes, describing his modification of the psychedelic substance. “By cutting it down, we got rid of these undesired side effects.”

According to the press release, “the company’s most advanced compounds, which have been profiled in Nature and Cell, are non-hallucinogenic analogs of clinically-validated first-generation psychedelics like psilocybin, LSD, DMT, and MDMA. Delix’s orally bioavailable compounds preserve the long-lasting beneficial rewiring of neurons without the risk, safety liabilities, and other patient access barriers inherent to first- and second-generation psychedelics. The improved safety profile, non-hallucinatory efficacy, and simplified manufacturing process of Delix’s psychoplastogens makes its novel compounds highly scalable and suitable for early use in patients. DLX-1 and DLX-7, the first two development candidates to emerge from Delix, are currently undergoing pre-IND safety and toxicology studies to enable clinical trials to begin in 2022.”

Initial data from NIDA’s research on DLX-7 is expected in early 2022.

 
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