Accounts from a 49-year-old actor, executive assistant, trauma survivor

Before Ember

I have had depression my whole life. I turned 49 in February, and the first time I remember wanting to die, I was 9. I’ve been in therapy since the age of 12, off and on. At age 17, my psychiatrist put me on Prozac, just as it was becoming available. I was on it for almost 20 years, with very little oversight, and very little follow up care.

My family was as dysfunctional as any other, but it was also destabilizing, as we moved a lot. As soon as I started Prozac, we moved again. In each new place, a new PCP would prescribe more Prozac. I had this epiphany in my early 30s that none of it worked, despite being told over and over that it was going to get better. It was deteriorating any quality of life I might have. I didn’t have any sex drive, and didn’t even know what that was because I had been on it since puberty. It made me feel dull, like I was bound by an emotional straightjacket. The insistence that suicide was a permanent solution to a temporary problem felt like a lie.

I got back into therapy and told my therapist everything I had been doing. She suggested a psychiatrist, and I said, I’m probably a candidate for meds, but no meds had worked. A different psychiatrist put me on Wellbutrin, and tapered me off of Prozac, and then had me do both. Then yet another psychiatrist after 9/11 said I had anxiety and put me on anti-anxiety medications, all of which did not work and caused other problems. By this time, I was in my late 30s. I decided, this is all bullshit, and I was done with meds.

I tried to temper myself off of Prozac, and for the first time in decades, I had the full breadth of feelings. The story of my late 30s and 40s became white-knuckling through life without any pharmaceuticals. At first, it felt really great, because I could feel joy and sexual attraction like I hadn’t. I experienced the full breadth of beauty and love, and a host of positive things that had been dulled with meds. I changed my diet, bought a book called the Depression Cure, upped my intake of vitamin D, I did everything. I started meditating, and have been meditating for 15 years. Everything was helpful, and certainly better than Prozac. But nothing ever really took away the dysfunctional hard wiring of my brain that caused my deep depression.

This time last year, I was in a pretty heavy and difficult cycle of depression. I had a lot of suicidal ideation all day long. It was really just tough to be a human. I started researching all sorts of psychedelics, hoping to get into some studies. I had heard about mushroom microdosing, and wanted to get into NYU and Johns Hopkins, but I never qualified. I wasn’t a cancer patient or a former soldier. I started to feel really impatient, until I caught wind that ketamine might be more accessible. I did a bunch of research and chose a provider that sent a prescription of lozenges to my house. I thought at-home was what I needed. I felt secure, cozy, and safe, and it was less expensive. My best friend from college offered to sit with me while I did it.

I started in mid January, and it was like a miracle. There was immediate relief. I remember looking over at my friend and saying about my depression, “It might be over, this might be it.” And he said “shit, yeah.” Of course it wasn’t the end of the story, but to have that much relief immediately after just gave me so much hope that even if it comes back, I knew something works, like really works. “I’m on to something.” That was the feeling.

In the 24 hours and even week after the first session, I didn’t have any suicidal ideations, none at all. I suddenly had all this space in my brain. A few days after my first ketamine treatment, I met with a potential new theatrical agent, and booked for the first television opportunity they sent me. I’m a good actor, none of that was surprising. What was surprising was that without the depression getting in my way, the pieces fell into place. That part I couldn’t have done without the ketamine.

I didn’t have any suicidal thinking until the end of May, and that’s the longest I had ever remembered being without it. It was a strange new feeling. But about two months after the last at-home session, I could feel the depression coming back, and I knew it might get worse. I looked into the at-home prescription company again, and realized I hadn’t properly learned that this wasn’t just a one and done, that I’d need follow up care to maintain the benefits I felt. I did more research on other ketamine options, and learned that intravenous administration of ketamine is more effective and the benefits last longer than ketamine lozenges taken under the tongue. My friend had also moved out of state during COVID, and I knew I needed to go to a place to receive treatment where I would have more stability and emotional support.

I looked at a couple of different places that offer IV ketamine in New York. There were a few that struck me as wellness spas, where I wasn’t sure if folks were going for their depression or for a relaxing afternoon to experiment with something new. There was another ketamine clinic that had been around for awhile, but I didn’t get the sense I would feel safe in their space. I didn’t want fluorescent lights in a room with a lot of people.

Then I found Ember, and it seemed to be a very warm place that would take my depression seriously.

My Experience with Ember

From my first visit to Ember, I felt very at home and very comfortable. Everything is aesthetically pleasing, but it doesn't feel inauthentic. There are no “live, laugh, love” signs all over the place. It feels like somebody has appointed a cozy space in their home and I’m being invited into it. 

Feeling safe in the space was important, because the sessions themselves were intense. The IV experience for me felt much more intense than the lozenge, or maybe intense in a different way. I didn’t feel like I had a body anymore. I had a feeling like I was out in a black hole in space and untethered from anything that had ever existed in history or the universe, like my soul was floating and never going to find another soul. I felt like I had died. I convinced myself in the session that I had made bad decisions and put myself into something that wasn’t safe. Going through that experience and coming through ok, and coming back for my second session the following Friday and having a better experience, actually really helped me know I do make good decisions. Everything is and was ok.

The second session, the nurse in the room with me tapped my lower legs in intervals throughout the session because I said I was scared I didn’t have a body. She also sprayed a bit more of the aromatherapy they use throughout my sessions. I found this all so helpful and grounding. Even though I was having this very intense psychedelic experience, I had these touch points where I could come into my body.

What also made me feel safe was the suggestion to bring my own blanket. In the sessions themselves, the eye mask and headphones are so vital. In my past, I have been assaulted in a very vulnerable state, and I have not been believed by a lot of people, including doctors. So taking away the sense of sight and sound initially was a little frightening. However, after my first session, these are the exact same things that made me feel safe and contained, cocooned during my session. This is not something I would have even thought of. 

I remember when I first went to therapy after the sessions with Ember. I put a lot of pressure on myself, and I thought “what other habits can I take on while I am neuroplastic?” I eat well, I exercise. And my therapist said “how about the habit of not talking shit to yourself?” It helped me reframe things. Since I’ve been going to Ember, I’ve been a little more chill with myself, even as I continue working on building healthier habits.

The Impact I’ve Felt

Depression and suicidal thinking take up a lot of mental capacity. Ketamine treatment has opened up space in my brain for other things. I had not been without depression for 40 years, and now I am. It has been a shocking and welcome change.

I’ve been an artist since I was a very small child, and I have a newfound appreciation for how hard it has been for me to push through depression to be able to create. It’s not that it made me a better person or more creative. It just took the depression away by rebuilding neural pathways. It’s really incredible to finally have some control over my depression.

I wish I was 17 now and had this treatment. I’ve been mourning the years of being so incapacitated. I’ve had a hard time thinking about how much time was wasted. The honest truth is, I’m not sure how much longer I could have held on without these treatments. If I only get to live another 20 or even 40 years, I would like that to be depression free. I would like to be a productive member of society, even though society doesn’t want women over 45 to have opinions or to be creative.

This is my rebirth - I am a teenager again, this is just the start, this is me if I had started my life without depression. And I’ve been able to bring a lot of other people along for the ride, like my parents, my extended family, my cousins, my aunts and uncles. My parents were initially opposed to me starting Prozac. I went to therapy in secret. To drag them kicking and screaming behind me on the cutting edge of mental health care, maybe that’s my life’s work. I weep for my ancestors who probably got thrown into institutions. That would have been me, back in the day.

I feel lucky.