I don’t even know where to start.
This last week hit me in a way I didn’t see coming. It showed me something I didn’t think I’d be ready to admit — I’m starting to need ketamine less and less. And I’m relying on my integration more and more.
Fernando from two weeks ago would’ve called my last two sessions total duds. Waste of time. Waste of money. And yeah, in the past, I’ve gotten pissed when my sessions were too close together or didn’t “hit” deep. But now… now I see it. I don’t need them as much as I thought.
The Scare That Lit Everything Up
So a few days ago, I thought my car was stolen. I’m not talking about a “oh maybe I misplaced my keys” kind of thing. I fully believed it was gone. For two days. I called the police. Filed a report.
My stepdad told me, “Go talk to the neighbors. See if they’ve got cameras.” One of them did.
Monday night, 7:21 p.m. — there’s me, driving away.
8:20 p.m. — there’s me again… walking home.
And it hit me like a brick: I drove to the grocery store… and completely forgot I’d walked back.
The whole thing set off alarms in my head. Triggered old trauma. Pulled up memories of past suicidal thoughts. It was bad enough that I booked an emergency Continued Support Care call. That’s when I met Ludwig.
Meeting Ludwig
This man… Ludwig… had the kind of energy you feel in your chest. Gentle. Present. Safe.
He got my ADHD. He got my healing journey. He even arranged the call so we had unlimited time — no clock ticking down in the background. And then he thanked me for sharing my story with Better U.
I cried writing this.
While he talked, I thought about my rocket session. The “protect your energy” one. The “it all starts with me” one. I even sent him the blog post link about it. Ludwig, if you ever see this — I’m sending so much love your way.
He taught me something I can’t unhear: every time you say I release…, follow it with what you want to welcome in. That’s not just setting intentions — that’s rewriting your life mid-sentence.
The “Dud” That Wasn’t
While I was writing about all this, ketamine took me on a full-on gratitude tour.
And I swear — I’d sat down thinking, Well, this is going to be another dud. Like the one I had three days before. But I’ve learned ketamine can be sneaky. Merciful. (I wrote about that here.)
I decided this would be my last emergency session for now. I’m saving the rest for when seasonal depression and trauma start knocking later in the year. September is officially my integration month — and by “September,” I mean starting now.
This session gave me peace with the idea that those deep, trippy rides will get fewer and further between. And that’s okay. This is integration season.
Memory Lane with Lacey
Lying there, thinking nothing was happening, I drifted into this memory. Back when I lived at The Ivy at Draper — a 55+ community. First with my mom, then alone because the managers loved me.
I’d walk my mom’s dog, Lacey, to the park four times a day. That little dog was like a social magnet. She helped me make so many connections. Losing her in 2022 — the night before the anniversary of my dad’s passing — hurt in a way I can’t even put into clean sentences.
Even when my Amazon business takes off and I buy my own house, I know I’m never going back to a little apartment community. But damn… that chapter, that dog… they shaped me.
Carrying the Medicine Inside
Better U has an integration guide that says to take your ketamine sessions and hold them inside you like a ball of energy. This “dud” session proved that’s exactly what’s happening.
It even reignited my love for statistics and math. A past session took me on a mental tour of UVU. This quiet one made me reflect. All those days of mental blocks, failing classes since my USF days — they’re over.
One of the big bosses from the Dean of Students office once told me:
“Don’t think of support as weakness. Think of it as what keeps you strong. You’ll learn new skills and get better and better.”
The Launchpad
As much as “the swirl” hurt me at the time, they were the launchpad for my rocket. Earlier sessions told me to be kind. To protect my energy. To remember “it starts with me.” This one told me not to overextend.
And those sessions that started an hour late? They reminded me: not everything happens on my timeline.
This wasn’t just a session. It was a shift.
From chasing intensity…
to living in integration.
From needing the medicine…
to carrying it with me.
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