A Therapist’s Ketamine Journey: What It Actually Feels Like
By Heleen Woest, LPC
When I decided to offer Ketamine-Assisted Psychotherapy (KAP) in my practice, I knew I had to try it myself first. How could I sit across from a client, ask them to put on an eye mask, and tell them to “trust the process” if I hadn’t been in that recliner myself?
Plus, let’s be honest – therapists are human too. We have our own trauma triggers, our own heavy backpacks we carry around, and our own loud inner critics. I figured it was time to do some of my own deep cleaning.
But here is a fun fact about me: I am a bit of a control freak.
Okay, maybe more than a bit. I like to know what’s happening, when it’s happening, and exactly how I’m going to feel about it. The idea of taking a psychedelic medicine and “letting go of control” sounded about as appealing as jumping out of a perfectly good airplane. I was anxious. I didn’t want to lose my grip on reality, and I definitely didn’t want to do anything embarrassing.
If you’re feeling nervous about trying KAP because you hate feeling out of control, trust me – I get it. I am your people.
Here is what actually happened when I finally sat in the chair, put on the headphones, and went on my own ketamine journey.
The “One Foot In, One Foot Out” Test
As the medicine started to take effect, my therapist brain immediately kicked in. I felt myself slipping into a deeply relaxed, dream-like state, but my inner control freak panicked for a second. Am I losing touch with reality? Where am I?
So, I did what any highly anxious, slightly stubborn therapist would do: I tested it.
Right in the middle of the session, I pulled off my eye mask and took off my headphones. I blinked a few times and looked around the room.
Yep. Still in a therapy office. There’s the lamp. There’s my therapist sitting quietly in the corner. I am perfectly safe.
Satisfied that I hadn’t actually left the planet, I put the mask and headphones back on and sank back into the experience. I realized that ketamine doesn’t hijack your brain or force you into a hallucination you can’t escape. It’s more like having one foot in the real world and one foot in a vivid, emotional dream state. You can always open your eyes and come back to the room if you need to. You are still you.
The Cleansing Tears
Once I finally gave myself permission to let go, the journey really began. And let me tell you, I cried. A lot.
But it wasn’t the kind of desperate, sorrowful crying that leaves you feeling exhausted and hollowed out. It was a deep, releasing, cleansing cry. It felt like years of built-up emotional pressure was finally finding a release valve.
In my “dream” state, I was reviewing different parts of my life. Normally, when I think about my past or my struggles, my inner critic is sitting right there in the front row with a megaphone, pointing out everything I did wrong or should have done better.
But the ketamine did something remarkable: it turned the volume on that critic way, way down. It was still there, but it sounded like it was mumbling from three rooms away.
Finding Compassion for Myself
With the critic quieted down, something beautiful happened. I started to see the different parts of myself – the scared parts, the hurt parts, the parts that work so hard to keep everything together.
People have often told me that I have a lot of compassion for others. It’s why I became a therapist! But having compassion for myself? That has always been a much harder assignment.
During the journey, for the first time in a long time, I felt a profound sense of love and grace for my own story. I could look at my past trauma not with judgment, but with the same gentle, protective compassion I would offer to a client sitting on my couch. I was able to give those younger, hurting parts of myself the love they desperately needed.
It wasn’t all heavy, either. Intermixed with the tears were moments of pure, expansive joy. I even found myself laughing out loud at times. It was a beautiful, messy, deeply human experience.
The Takeaway
When the session ended and the medicine wore off, I didn’t feel “cured” of all my human struggles. But I felt lighter. The rigid walls in my mind had softened. I had a new perspective on my own worth, and a renewed sense of empathy for the brave clients who do this work with me.
If you are considering Ketamine-Assisted Psychotherapy but your inner control freak is hitting the panic button, I want you to know that your fears make total sense. It is brave to step into the unknown.
But you don’t lose yourself in that chair. You actually might just find the parts of yourself you’ve been looking for.
The Paradox of Treating Addiction with an Addictive Substance. The use of ketamine-assisted psychotherapy (KAP) for substance use disorders presents a profound clinical paradox that is currently dividing the medical community. On one hand, recent clinical trials have shown remarkable promise; a landmark Phase II trial demonstrated that combining low-dose ketamine infusions with psychological therapy increased alcohol abstinence rates from roughly 2% to 86% over a six-month period. This success has spurred the launch of the MORE-KARE trial, the largest Phase III study of its kind across eight NHS sites in the UK, aiming to treat 280 adults with severe alcohol use disorder. Proponents argue that ketamine’s ability to rapidly reduce withdrawal symptoms and cravings, particularly for alcohol and cocaine, offers a vital lifeline for patients who have exhausted traditional options. However, this therapeutic optimism is heavily overshadowed by a surging crisis of recreational ketamine abuse and overdose. A 2025 study by King’s College London revealed that illicit ketamine deaths have increased twentyfold since 2014, often involving complex polydrug mixtures. High-profile tragedies, such as the overdose death of actor Matthew Perry, have amplified public and regulatory scrutiny, with experts like Dr. Caroline Copeland warning that ketamine misuse has moved far beyond recreational settings into entrenched dependence. Critics argue that introducing a substance with such high abuse liability and overdose risk into vulnerable populations is inherently dangerous, questioning whether the long-term neurological impacts of repeated ketamine use might ultimately outweigh its rapid anti-craving benefits.
References
[1] Largest ever trial of ketamine to treat alcohol abuse to launch across eight NHS sites. The Pharmaceutical Journal.
[2] Role of ketamine in the treatment of substance use disorders. ScienceDirect.
[3] Ketamine deaths have increased twentyfold since 2014, with mixing drugs on the rise. King’s College London.
[4] Helpful or harmful? The therapeutic potential of medications with varying degrees of abuse liability in the treatment of substance use disorders. Springer.
Curious about Ketamine-Assisted Psychotherapy? Schedule a free screening to chat with me about whether it might be a good fit for your healing journey.