My Journey to Recovery — How Ketamine Saved My Life
I was teetering on the edge of death, feeling like a mere shell of my former self. A second chance seemed like a total impossibility. I had slowly become a ghost to those who once knew me well, and the desire to simply vanish was overwhelming. I can state with 100% certainty that ketamine offered me that elusive second chance. It prevented me from disappearing. It was, and remains, a miracle. If you ever feel as though you’ve run out of options and are ready to give up, I urge you to open yourself to the idea of ketamine treatments.
Here’s my story: the tale of my descent and the arduous journey to reclaim my life. I lost a year to my struggles. Ketamine restored what I thought was lost forever. It brought me peace, ended the vicious cycle I was trapped in, and shone a light in what seemed like an endless abyss.
Depression has been my companion since I was 13 years old. I managed it with low-dose antidepressants, specifically Wellbutrin, and by immersing myself in work to the point of distraction. My severe social anxiety was hidden from everyone except my wife, Jenn; I wore a mask, and I wore it well.
College brought significant improvements. For the first time, I found myself part of a group of friends and met Jenn, with whom I now have over 13 years of companionship.
Post-college life introduced a slew of physical health problems, from digestive issues to chronic pain, on top of a weakened immune system. Despite these challenges, my career flourished and I felt cherished by my family and friends. We got married in June 2019 and moved from Silver Spring to Annapolis, excited for our new life and our honeymoon in Italy scheduled for March 2020.
Then COVID-19 struck. For many, it was a devastating time, but for me, it was a blessing in disguise. Working remotely eliminated my social anxiety, propelling my career and strengthening my marriage.
Life was good until May 2022. A months-long decline in Jenn’s mental health, initially attributed to work stress and the process of buying our first home, was revealed to have a darker cause.
I discovered Jenn in tears. She had hit a breaking point and finally revealed that a close friend — the best man at our wedding — had been sexually harassing her for nearly a year. She hadn’t told me for fear of what it might do to my friendships and in turn, our marriage. But after meeting and falling in love with our nephew the month prior, she knew she was ready to start trying for children of our own; she didn’t want to head down that path while harboring a terrible secret.
We were fortunate enough to soon learn that we were expecting our son, Vinny. The joy was unparalleled, yet overshadowed by fear due to the situation with my now former friend. To protect my wife and son’s mental and physical health, we departed from the friend group and all of the drama that former friend was causing. My best friend Chase joined us in our departure and remained a steadfast support.
Additionally, I discovered my testosterone levels were alarmingly low, exacerbating my isolation and deepening my depression. Anxious with anticipation about our baby’s arrival, I withdrew into isolation, which significantly worsened my depression. In search of professional help, I managed to secure an appointment with a Physician Assistant who had recently graduated.
I consulted him on ways to escape the deepening cycle of depression, more severe than I’d ever encountered. He recommended discontinuing Wellbutrin, a medication that had been my stability for a decade, to switch to either Cymbalta or Lexapro. Faced with making a choice between two unfamiliar options, and having battled body image issues since childhood, I opted for Cymbalta, influenced by assurances it wouldn’t contribute to weight gain.
Transitioning swiftly from Wellbutrin, we initiated Cymbalta at 20 mg. Initially, things appeared manageable, except for a new sensation of physical anxiety. Upon reporting this, my dosage was successively increased, first to 40 mg and then to 60 mg, each increment amplifying my discomfort until it became intolerable, marked by relentless anxiety and palpitations.
The situation escalated when severe headaches began. In December 2022, I went to the ER, but despite numerous tests, no abnormalities were found. My ill-informed PA instructed me to taper off Cymbalta, from 60 mg to zero in just two weeks. Given the short half-life of Cymbalta and similar SNRIs, such a swift withdrawal is known to induce severe symptoms, comparable to those of heroin or alcohol withdrawal. Had I been fully informed from the start, I would have never consented to this treatment plan. The resultant physical and mental anguish was so extreme that it necessitated hospitalization and a temporary leave from work.
A figurative clock in my mind counted down the time to improve before my son’s arrival, but my symptoms persisted as time marched on. Jenn was admitted to the hospital a day before our son’s due date. Despite being admitted early in the morning, 25 hours passed without any sign of him, and suddenly, both Jenn’s and our baby’s blood pressures dropped, his heart rate alarmingly spiked. Jenn, demonstrating incredible strength, delivered our son in less than 20 minutes in order to save his life.
However, joy quickly turned to concern. Our son wasn’t crying, his skin had a blue tint, and despite a fleeting moment on Jenn’s chest, he was swiftly attended by an expanding medical team for his breathing difficulties and rushed to the NICU.
Amidst the chaos, Jenn’s inquiries about our son’s well-being were met with reassurances, though I knew the gravity of the situation. In the NICU, hooked up to numerous machines, our son looked incredibly fragile. Exhausted from the emotional rollercoaster and lack of sleep, I was barely holding it together.
Soon a nurse informed me that Jenn had suffered a significant internal tear requiring immediate surgery. I gave Jenn hopeful reassurances about our son’s condition before she was wheeled off to the OR, despite knowing the challenges he faced.
Mid-surgery, the nurse informed me that Jenn had lost half of her blood volume and was undergoing transfusions, awaiting a specialist surgeon. The fear for both Jenn and our son’s survival was paralyzing.
Eventually, I was informed the surgery was successful, and Jenn was stable. Her first concern upon seeing me was for our son, to whom I promised she would soon be reunited.
After a harrowing four days in the NICU, where we faced fears of heart issues and infections, our resilience was rewarded. The exceptional care at Anne Arundel Medical Center allowed us to bring our son home the same day Jenn was discharged, a testament to the skill and dedication of the medical staff.
As we settled into new parenthood, my symptoms did not abate. The headaches intensified, tinnitus emerged, TMJ pain became excruciating, and I began to experience significant vision and hearing loss, hair loss, difficulty breathing, a constant sensation of throat constriction, and debilitating paranoia. This was compounded by severe insomnia, leaving me without sleep for stretches of 72 hours. The first neurologist I consulted attributed the headaches to sinus issues or migraines, though I exhibited no typical symptoms for either condition.
The following year was a nightmare of medication trials, deteriorating health, and a dwindling hope for recovery. My treatment involved a rapid rotation through a myriad of medications, including:
• Cymbalta
• Buspirone
• Seroquel
• Trazodone
• Lexapro
• Vyvanse
• Lorazepam
• Xanax
• Verapamil
• Nurtec
• Topamax
• Potent antihistamines
• Belsomra
• Metoprolol
• Propranolol
• Nortriptyline
• Trintellix
• Wellbutrin
• Ambien
• Aplenzin
• Xanax (again)
• Zoloft
• Testosterone
• Low Dose Naltrexone
This period felt as though doctors were using my brain for experimental concoctions. My resting heart rate spiked to 110 BPM due to one doctor’s abrupt cessation of beta blockers. My ability to articulate thoughts deteriorated. I experienced dramatic weight fluctuations, losing 20 pounds in one month only to gain 50 in the next two. The discomfort was not just internal; physically, I was immobilized. My vision was so altered that I couldn’t track movement without feeling sick.
The remainder of that year was akin to living a nightmare. As my health rapidly deteriorated, Jenn grappled with severe postpartum depression. During this period of detachment, I was not the partner my wife needed, nor the father my son deserved. I was hardly a son to my parents or a brother to my sister, and I subjected my in-laws to undue stress.
By the time fall rolled around, I was on the verge of giving up. Jenn persuaded me to take a leave of absence from work to dedicate myself to recovery. Two months passed with no signs of improvement; in fact, my condition seemed to deteriorate. I consulted a neurologist who conducted a series of MRIs, an EEG, and other neurological evaluations. He attributed my headaches to stress and suggested relaxation, a tall order under the circumstances. He diagnosed my vision and hearing difficulties as neurological issues.
His advice was to accept this new reality, indicating that my cognitive functions and ability to communicate had been severely impaired. He warned me not to expect to engage with my son as I had hoped or to return to my previous professional capacity.
This advice pushed me to a breaking point. I was seriously considering taking my own life, convinced that my absence would be a relief to my family.
The following day, a glimmer of hope appeared when Jenn handed me a pamphlet for the Mood Center in Annapolis. They specialize in ketamine infusions, a treatment reputed to alleviate severe mental health issues and chronic pain. With nothing left to lose, I decided to explore this last-ditch attempt to save my own life.
The initial step was a thorough screening process at the Mood Center, where the staff was not only welcoming but also took the time to thoroughly explain the procedure. Ketamine, they detailed, aids in mending damaged neural pathways. At sub-anesthetic doses, it induces a dissociative state or a ‘trip.’ Scientifically, ketamine is known to reduce the release of glutamate in the brain by targeting presynaptic mechanisms. Specifically, both ketamine and its metabolite, (2R,6R)-HNK, disrupt the recycling of synaptic vesicles in glutamatergic nerve terminals, contributing to its swift antidepressant effects, likely through a mechanism involving retrograde adenosinergic feedback to curb glutamate release.
After passing the initial screening, I was deemed ready for my first infusion immediately. They suggested a series of six infusions over two weeks, starting with a dosage of 0.5, gradually increasing to 1. Despite my skepticism — why would this work when nothing else had? — I was out of options and agreed to proceed.
The experience surpassed anything I had previously encountered. The immersive nature of the trip allowed me to engage with my surroundings in a deeply visceral way; I could touch, smell, and see vividly, as if what I was experiencing was palpably real. The onset of the first infusion brought on a state of euphoria reminiscent of how J.K. Rowling describes the sensation of being under the Imperius Curse in the Harry Potter series. I felt an involuntary bliss and complete obedience. But, not unlike Harry, I was able to maintain my sense of self throughout the experience.
During the trip, I felt my old self reawaken within me: my old voice, my presence, the confidence I once had. Suddenly, a spark of hope ignited. I saw and spoke with my grandfather, a hero of mine whose death had a profound impact on me. He appeared just as he had in life, as real as any of you reading this. I can’t recall the entire conversation, but he assured me I would be fine and that things would return to normal, happening faster than I could have imagined. After the trip, 40% of my pain had vanished. My old brain seemed to awaken again. It felt atrophied, but there was definitely a shift.
Unfortunately, I contracted a stomach virus two days later and had to postpone my subsequent infusions. Instead of completing six sessions in two weeks, it extended to four weeks. I feared this would ruin my chance to improve, and by the time of the second infusion, I had lost some hope.
However, once the second infusion began, I became one with the universe. I traveled back in time, revisiting memories from my childhood, college, and the year Jenn was being harassed. It wasn’t just a replay of these memories; it brought to life everything I had experienced, even peripherally. It felt as though my subconscious had stored all this data, even if my conscious mind was unaware.
I recounted entire dialogues from these memories. Moreover, I saw my ex-friend harassing Jenn, always from a distance of about 20 feet. I had always believed Jenn, but this experience reinforced my belief tenfold. I could now literally hear and see what he was doing. It was not just one or two inappropriate comments; it was a persistent pattern of behavior borne of narcissism and misogyny.
For anyone who ever doubted her or made excuses for what he did to her (and has likely done to other women), you were wrong. Will you be proud to tell your future children how you failed to stand up for us? Thank you for showing me your true colors before I wasted another decade on our friendship.
My third session was similar. The fourth session was peculiar; I entered what they call a “k-hole,” a deep dissociative state from which I wondered if I would emerge. During my fifth session, my blood pressure spiked, and exiting the trip felt like I had completed a marathon; I was soaked from head to toe. Despite these intense experiences, I felt better with each session. Each time, more pain dissipated, and my mental state improved.
Finally, I had reached my sixth and final session. It changed everything — and when I say everything, I truly mean it. Unlike the previous sessions where I revisited the past, this time, I looked to the future.
I saw my son, Vincent, growing up. Just five weeks earlier, I hadn’t thought I’d be around to see that. I watched as Jenn and I aged together, and I witnessed Vincent become the man I always aspired to be — a man free from the restraints of his own insecurities. He was healthy, successful, and above all, happy. Seeing this, something clicked. All the pain vanished, my brain reset to its former clarity, my personality was restored, and I felt strength flood back into my body. It was akin to Bruce Banner transforming into the Hulk. When I could finally move and speak, I FaceTimed Jenn to tell her, “I’m back,” before breaking down in tears. I had lost a year, nearly lost my life, and just like that, everything was restored.
Since then, my life has been better than ever. I’ve become the father and husband I always wished to be and have reached new professional heights. My depression, social anxiety, body image issues, and pain have all disappeared, thanks to Jenn and the Mood Center. I’ve forgotten much of last year, perhaps as a protective measure by my brain. This is beneficial because, since that last session, I’ve lived in the moment, not dwelling on the past or worrying too much about the future. I am at peace and, as cliche as it sounds, every day feels like a gift.
I share my story here for anyone struggling. Don’t give up. Depression is something you have, it’s not who you are. What do you have to lose by trying Ketamine?
I want to express my gratitude to the following individuals:
Jenn and Vinny, you two are my foundation. You are my guiding lights and sources of inspiration. Before every infusion, I thought of you both, which helped center me. It also reminded me that, at the end of the day, nothing is more important to me than the two of you. I love you both more than anything.
Steph, Wes, and baby Chase, thank you for being there for all three of us. Your support and love have been indispensable; I don’t believe we could have made it through this without you. Welcome to the world baby Logan, we are so happy to have you here and can’t wait to watch you grow up playing with your best buds Chase and Vinny.
Mom, Dad, Jack, and Travis, you exemplify what it means for a family to support their son and brother. You never gave up on me, even when I was ready to give up on myself.
Chase, you are one of the best friends anyone could ask for. The help you provided, the conversations, the texts, and your words of encouragement and wise advice prevented me from losing my sanity and sense of self. I am eternally grateful to you.
Bill, you too are among the best friends a person could have. Your emotional intelligence is unparalleled, and you’ve kept me grounded, offering support not just at work but in every aspect of life.
Rob, Susan, George, and John, your support for Vinny, Jenn, and me will always be cherished. I couldn’t have asked for better in-laws. Rob, our weekly brunches were the highlight of my week during my medical leave.
Natalie, your advice and support were exactly what I needed. Although you are my cousin, I’ve always regarded you as a big sister. Thank you for everything.
Aunt JoJo, Grandma, and Aunt Mish, thank you for your support of me and our family. I appreciate everything you’ve done not just for me but for my mom as well. I know she faced the thought of losing her son with great difficulty, and I believe she wouldn’t have made it through without all of you.
Cindy, Vishal, the UX Team, and all of my colleagues at Allegis group thank you for your support while I worked through all of this. Some of you were more hopeful than me that I would return to form. It is good to be back.
Everyone who works at the Mood Center, your kindness and care quite literally saved my life. Thank you for everything you all do.
Grandpa, thank you for being our guardian angel. Though you are no longer with us physically, I feel your presence. Our conversation during that first infusion reignited my will to recover. I am confident we will see each other again.
Ketamine has taught me that we are all interconnected and that a higher power exists within the universe. I am certain of this. Appreciate your life; you never know when it might change, and never be ashamed to seek help.
