If you’d told my younger self that one day I’d willingly inhale something called "the God molecule," I’d have laughed awkwardly, edged toward the nearest exit, and quietly reconsidered our friendship. My lifelong policy on mind-altering substances was simple: absolutely not. A childhood stamped with trauma had left me with a deep mistrust of anything that even hinted at surrendering control. The mere thought sent anxiety rippling through my nervous system like an over-caffeinated ferret on a power line.
And yet—here I am. Not just inhaling it but, somehow, guiding others through the experience as a therapist. Not because I was looking for a cosmic joyride, but because 5-MeO-DMT kept crashing into my research like a stubborn cosmic recruiter, refusing to take no for an answer.
And yet—here I am. Not just inhaling it but, somehow, guiding others through the experience as a therapist. Not because I was looking for a cosmic joyride, but because 5-MeO-DMT kept crashing into my research like a stubborn cosmic recruiter, refusing to take no for an answer.
What Even Is This Stuff?
5-MeO-DMT (5-methoxy-N,N-dimethyltryptamine) is a psychoactive compound in the tryptamine family. But let’s be clear—this isn’t your college roommate’s casual psychedelic. This particular molecule shows up naturally in certain plants and, more famously, in the venom of the Sonoran Desert toad (Bufo alvarius). Yes, toad venom. As if this whole experience didn’t already sound like something out of a fever dream.
It shares some structural similarities with its more famous cousin, DMT (dimethyltryptamine), but 5-MeO-DMT is its own thing—like DMT’s spiritually intense, slightly overwhelming relative who drops in, blows your mind, and then leaves before you’ve even processed what just happened.
What really hooked me at first was discovering that our own bodies produce DMT-like compounds. This isn’t some bizarre foreign invader—it’s something our own biochemistry seems to recognize. There’s even a compelling (though still debated) theory that endogenous DMT levels spike during near-death experiences, which might explain why so many people who’ve nearly died report those uncanny feelings of peace, unity, and divine connection.
It shares some structural similarities with its more famous cousin, DMT (dimethyltryptamine), but 5-MeO-DMT is its own thing—like DMT’s spiritually intense, slightly overwhelming relative who drops in, blows your mind, and then leaves before you’ve even processed what just happened.
What really hooked me at first was discovering that our own bodies produce DMT-like compounds. This isn’t some bizarre foreign invader—it’s something our own biochemistry seems to recognize. There’s even a compelling (though still debated) theory that endogenous DMT levels spike during near-death experiences, which might explain why so many people who’ve nearly died report those uncanny feelings of peace, unity, and divine connection.
The Science Behind the Spiritual
Before I get into my own experience, let’s take a minute to break down what this molecule actually does.
Because while nothing can fully prepare you for the ride, understanding the mechanics at least gives you the illusion of control—which, as we’ll soon see, is adorable. 5-MeO-DMT primarily locks onto serotonin receptors, especially 5-HT2A, the same ones that psychedelics love to party with. But it also has a few extra tricks up its molecular sleeve: 5-HT1A receptors – linked to mood regulation and anxiety reductio; σ-receptors – involved in perception and emotion regulation.
But here’s where 5-MeO-DMT really sets itself apart: instead of cranking up brain activity like most mind-altering substances, it actually turns down the default mode network (DMN). This is the part of your brain responsible for self-referential thinking—the endless inner monologue narrating your life like an overcaffeinated sports commentator.
With the DMN temporarily muted, users often describe “ego dissolution” or a sense of merging with everything—experiences usually reserved for seasoned meditators or people who’ve had near-death experiences. It’s as if your brain’s control center suddenly steps outside for a cigarette break, leaving consciousness to experience itself without all the usual filters and boundaries
But here’s where 5-MeO-DMT really sets itself apart: instead of cranking up brain activity like most mind-altering substances, it actually turns down the default mode network (DMN). This is the part of your brain responsible for self-referential thinking—the endless inner monologue narrating your life like an overcaffeinated sports commentator.
With the DMN temporarily muted, users often describe “ego dissolution” or a sense of merging with everything—experiences usually reserved for seasoned meditators or people who’ve had near-death experiences. It’s as if your brain’s control center suddenly steps outside for a cigarette break, leaving consciousness to experience itself without all the usual filters and boundaries
Setting the Stage: Preparation Matters.
This wasn’t some reckless, “Sure, why not?” moment. I spent months buried in research, turning over every possible angle, questioning whether this was something I could—or should—do. The science was intriguing, but science alone wasn’t going to be the thing that convinced me to voluntarily dissolve my own consciousness. No, this required real preparation. The kind where you have to sit with yourself and ask, Am I actually ready for this?
The week leading up to my session was all about setting myself up for the smoothest possible ride:
The week leading up to my session was all about setting myself up for the smoothest possible ride:
- A clean diet. No caffeine, alcohol, dairy, processed foods, or anything heavy. Just simple, whole foods that wouldn’t make my body panic mid-existential unraveling.
- Long daily meditation sessions. Because practicing how to let go seemed like a smart idea before taking something that would forcibly pry my grip off reality.
- A couple of deep talks with my therapist. To clarify my intentions and address any lingering fears, like, What if I accidentally discover the meaning of life and it’s really disappointing?
- A check-in with my physician. Because if I was going to do something this intense, I wanted the medical green light.
None of this was for show. Science backs up the importance of set (mindset) in shaping a psychedelic experience. If your head’s full of fear, resistance, or unresolved emotional baggage, the whole thing can turn into an uphill battle. But if you go in open, prepared, and not weighed down by a cheeseburger digesting in your gut, the journey tends to flow with less... existential turbulence.
Then there was setting. And in this case, setting had a name.
My facilitator - Isa - was the kind of person who could make a skittish cat feel safe. Warm, steady, confident—she radiated that rare, “I’ve got you” energy that makes every muscle in your body unclench. And that mattered. Under 5-MeO-DMT, you’re not just mentally vulnerable—your whole being is wide open. It’s not enough to think you’re safe; you have to know it, deep in your bones. And because she made it easy to trust, I did.
Then there was setting. And in this case, setting had a name.
My facilitator - Isa - was the kind of person who could make a skittish cat feel safe. Warm, steady, confident—she radiated that rare, “I’ve got you” energy that makes every muscle in your body unclench. And that mattered. Under 5-MeO-DMT, you’re not just mentally vulnerable—your whole being is wide open. It’s not enough to think you’re safe; you have to know it, deep in your bones. And because she made it easy to trust, I did.
None of this was for show. Science backs up the importance of set (mindset) in shaping a psychedelic experience. If your head’s full of fear, resistance, or unresolved emotional baggage, the whole thing can turn into an uphill battle. But if you go in open, prepared, and not weighed down by a cheeseburger digesting in your gut, the journey tends to flow with less... existential turbulence.
Then there was setting. And in this case, setting had a name.
My facilitator - Isa - was the kind of person who could make a skittish cat feel safe. Warm, steady, confident—she radiated that rare, “I’ve got you” energy that makes every muscle in your body unclench. And that mattered. Under 5-MeO-DMT, you’re not just mentally vulnerable—your whole being is wide open. It’s not enough to think you’re safe; you have to know it, deep in your bones. And because she made it easy to trust, I did.
Then there was setting. And in this case, setting had a name.
My facilitator - Isa - was the kind of person who could make a skittish cat feel safe. Warm, steady, confident—she radiated that rare, “I’ve got you” energy that makes every muscle in your body unclench. And that mattered. Under 5-MeO-DMT, you’re not just mentally vulnerable—your whole being is wide open. It’s not enough to think you’re safe; you have to know it, deep in your bones. And because she made it easy to trust, I did.
The Sacred Smoke: How It Actually Happen.
The ceremony took place in Mexico, where the Sonoran Desert toad actually lives—and where working with its secretions isn’t a felony, which is always a plus. The journey from toad to transcendence is surprisingly... practical. The venom is gently collected from the toad’s parotid glands (don’t worry, they survive to go about their weird little amphibian lives). This milky secretion is then dried into small, amber-colored granules that, for something capable of dissolving reality, look disappointingly ordinary.
These unassuming crystals were placed in a small glass pipe, heated from below until they morphed into a thick, white vapor—dense, swirling, almost alive. When my facilitator handed me the pipe, any lingering doubts vanished—or maybe I was already under its spell. Either way, I took a deep, slow inhale—filled my lungs completely—held it for a moment, and then… surrendered.
These unassuming crystals were placed in a small glass pipe, heated from below until they morphed into a thick, white vapor—dense, swirling, almost alive. When my facilitator handed me the pipe, any lingering doubts vanished—or maybe I was already under its spell. Either way, I took a deep, slow inhale—filled my lungs completely—held it for a moment, and then… surrendered.
The Experience: Beyond Words
How do you explain something that scrambles language itself? One second, I inhaled. The next, reality politely excused itself and left the building.There were no swirling kaleidoscopes, no neon fractals, no mischievous little elves like you hear about with other psychedelics. Instead, I disappeared. My sense of self dissolved like sugar in hot tea—gone, but somehow still there, just in a way that had nothing to do with "me" as I’d known myself five seconds prior.
What remained was something vast and immediate, something that had always been there but that I had somehow... forgotten.Time? No such thing. There was only now, stretching infinitely in all directions. What researchers call "ego dissolution" felt less like losing myself and more like coming home—except to a home that had no walls, no doors, and no me in it.
How do you explain something that scrambles language itself? One second, I inhaled. The next, reality politely excused itself and left the building.There were no swirling kaleidoscopes, no neon fractals, no mischievous little elves like you hear about with other psychedelics. Instead, I disappeared. My sense of self dissolved like sugar in hot tea—gone, but somehow still there, just in a way that had nothing to do with "me" as I’d known myself five seconds prior.
What remained was something vast and immediate, something that had always been there but that I had somehow... forgotten.Time? No such thing. There was only now, stretching infinitely in all directions. What researchers call "ego dissolution" felt less like losing myself and more like coming home—except to a home that had no walls, no doors, and no me in it.
The Experience: Beyond Words
How do you explain something that scrambles language itself? One second, I inhaled. The next, reality politely excused itself and left the building.There were no swirling kaleidoscopes, no neon fractals, no mischievous little elves like you hear about with other psychedelics. Instead, I disappeared. My sense of self dissolved like sugar in hot tea—gone, but somehow still there, just in a way that had nothing to do with "me" as I’d known myself five seconds prior.
What remained was something vast and immediate, something that had always been there but that I had somehow... forgotten.Time? No such thing. There was only now, stretching infinitely in all directions. What researchers call "ego dissolution" felt less like losing myself and more like coming home—except to a home that had no walls, no doors, and no me in it.
What remained was something vast and immediate, something that had always been there but that I had somehow... forgotten.Time? No such thing. There was only now, stretching infinitely in all directions. What researchers call "ego dissolution" felt less like losing myself and more like coming home—except to a home that had no walls, no doors, and no me in it.
Was it terrifying?
Oh, absolutely. The ego does not go quietly. There was a sharp, lurching moment of panic where I genuinely thought, Oh. This is it. I have died. I tried to grab onto my body, my breath, anything—only to realize I couldn’t feel any of it. And then... I let go. And as soon as I did, the fear folded in on itself, transforming into something impossibly vast, bright, and peaceful.
The peak experience lasted maybe 15 or 20 minutes in clock time, but subjectively? It was both instant and eternal. Coming back was gentle, but also deeply strange. I opened my eyes to see my facilitator smiling at me, and for a moment, I felt exactly like those old Buddhist texts describe—emptiness, but not nothingness. Just pure, vivid being, without the usual background noise of me narrating myself to myself. And then, of course, I had a thought. I am not thinking! And with that, my brief flirtation with Zen enlightenment came to a tragic end.
The peak experience lasted maybe 15 or 20 minutes in clock time, but subjectively? It was both instant and eternal. Coming back was gentle, but also deeply strange. I opened my eyes to see my facilitator smiling at me, and for a moment, I felt exactly like those old Buddhist texts describe—emptiness, but not nothingness. Just pure, vivid being, without the usual background noise of me narrating myself to myself. And then, of course, I had a thought. I am not thinking! And with that, my brief flirtation with Zen enlightenment came to a tragic end.
What Academia Says About Benefits and Risks
Research on 5-MeO-DMT is still in its awkward adolescence—promising, unpredictable, and making academics simultaneously reach for their notepads while nervously adjusting their bow ties. Early studies suggest its therapeutic potential could make conventional psychiatric treatments look like trying to fix a quantum computer with a hammer and some duct tape.
Some of the most intriguing areas of research include:
Some of the most intriguing areas of research include:
- Treatment-resistant depression (when your brain’s “sad” button gets jammed in the ON position)
- Anxiety disorders, especially in people facing terminal illness
- Post-traumatic stress disorder (because some things don’t just “go away” with time)
- Addiction treatment (rewiring patterns that feel impossible to break)
- Existential distress (when regular distress just isn’t philosophical enough)
A 2019 study in the Journal of Psychopharmacology found that a single use of 5-MeO-DMT was linked to lasting improvements in depression and anxiety. Around 80% of participants reported feeling better—for weeks or even months. That’s an absurdly high success rate for one hit of anything. But let’s not get carried away—this isn’t a magic fix, and the research world knows it. It could be the most profound healing experience of your life… or a cosmic-level train wreck. So if you’re thinking about it, do your homework.
- Elevated blood pressure and heart rate
- Potential respiratory suppression
- Risk of serotonin syndrome if combined with certain medications
- Nausea and disorientation
- Acute anxiety or panic reactions
- Risk of retraumatization if inadequately supported
- Potential triggering of latent psychiatric conditions
- Challenging integration experiences
- Schizophrenia or family history of psychosis
- Severe cardiovascular conditions
- Pregnancy or breastfeeding
- Current use of MAOIs, SSRIs, or similar medications
- Acute psychological distress
Legal and Ethical Considerations
Let’s talk about the not-so-fun part: legality. In the U.S., 5-MeO-DMT is a Schedule I controlled substance, meaning it’s officially a no-go. Elsewhere, it’s either clearly illegal or stuck in a legal gray area—prohibited but not always enforced. Some religious groups have carved out ceremonial exemptions, but overall, the rules are murky and ever-shifting—kind of like consciousness itself, but with way more bureaucracy.
For me, this isn’t just a technicality—it’s the foundation of how I practice. I don’t break the law, period. That’s why I work with trusted colleagues in Mexico, where the Sonoran Desert toad actually lives and where the experience can unfold safely and legally. My role? To prepare, guide, and integrate — to ensure the experience isn’t just intense but also safe and transformative. Because without the right container, even the most earth-shattering journey can end up as just another trippy story with no real substance.
Let’s talk about the not-so-fun part: legality. In the U.S., 5-MeO-DMT is a Schedule I controlled substance, meaning it’s officially a no-go. Elsewhere, it’s either clearly illegal or stuck in a legal gray area—prohibited but not always enforced. Some religious groups have carved out ceremonial exemptions, but overall, the rules are murky and ever-shifting—kind of like consciousness itself, but with way more bureaucracy.
For me, this isn’t just a technicality—it’s the foundation of how I practice. I don’t break the law, period. That’s why I work with trusted colleagues in Mexico, where the Sonoran Desert toad actually lives and where the experience can unfold safely and legally. My role? To prepare, guide, and integrate — to ensure the experience isn’t just intense but also safe and transformative. Because without the right container, even the most earth-shattering journey can end up as just another trippy story with no real substance.
Before You Decide?
This isn’t a casual joyride. 5-MeO-DMT is a full-system reboot, and not everyone’s nervous system is ready for that. Ask yourself: Are you mentally stable with no risky conditions? Do you have a legit, ethical facilitator? Are you here for healing, not escape? And most importantly—are you ready to face whatever shows up, even if it’s uncomfortable? This isn’t about chasing bliss; it’s about meeting truth.
That said, mindset isn’t everything—logistics matter, too. A solid facilitator will screen for medical and psychological risks, because temporarily running your brain without its usual management team is no small thing. Prep and integration aren’t extras; they determine whether this changes your life or just leaves you dazed. And if there’s no clear safety plan? Run.
That said, mindset isn’t everything—logistics matter, too. A solid facilitator will screen for medical and psychological risks, because temporarily running your brain without its usual management team is no small thing. Prep and integration aren’t extras; they determine whether this changes your life or just leaves you dazed. And if there’s no clear safety plan? Run.
A Final Thought: Coming Home to Myself
Three years after my first dance with the toad, I now find myself in a surreal plot twist—guiding others through the very terrain I once avoided like a suspiciously quiet toddler. My younger, hyper-cautious self would be both horrified and waytoo intrigued to look away. I still remember the morning after, sitting on a terrace in Mexico with a cup of tea that somehow tasted more like tea than any tea had ever tasted. Everything was just… more itself. Like I’d spent my whole life wearing the wrong prescription glasses, and someone finally handed me the right ones.
That feeling hasn’t vanished. It fades sometimes, drowned out by deadlines, grocery lists, and whatever new noise my car has decided to make—currently a cross between a blender and a dying harmonica. But then, in quiet moments—washing dishes, walking my dog, sitting with a client fresh from their own breakthrough—it drifts back. My perspective hasn’t changed so much as expanded, like a house suddenly realizing it has extra rooms it never knew existed.
Is this path for everyone? No, and that’s probably for the best. But if you feel that restless pull toward more—more depth, more connection, more meaning—I can only offer what I’ve learned: Go with respect. Go prepared. Go with people you trust. Because 5-MeO-DMT doesn’t hand you anything new. It just clears away the clutter between you and what was always there. And whatever that is? It’s yours. It always was. Even if, in the end, all you realize is that you’ve been wearing your existential sweater backwards this whole time.
Three years after my first dance with the toad, I now find myself in a surreal plot twist—guiding others through the very terrain I once avoided like a suspiciously quiet toddler. My younger, hyper-cautious self would be both horrified and waytoo intrigued to look away. I still remember the morning after, sitting on a terrace in Mexico with a cup of tea that somehow tasted more like tea than any tea had ever tasted. Everything was just… more itself. Like I’d spent my whole life wearing the wrong prescription glasses, and someone finally handed me the right ones.
That feeling hasn’t vanished. It fades sometimes, drowned out by deadlines, grocery lists, and whatever new noise my car has decided to make—currently a cross between a blender and a dying harmonica. But then, in quiet moments—washing dishes, walking my dog, sitting with a client fresh from their own breakthrough—it drifts back. My perspective hasn’t changed so much as expanded, like a house suddenly realizing it has extra rooms it never knew existed.
Is this path for everyone? No, and that’s probably for the best. But if you feel that restless pull toward more—more depth, more connection, more meaning—I can only offer what I’ve learned: Go with respect. Go prepared. Go with people you trust. Because 5-MeO-DMT doesn’t hand you anything new. It just clears away the clutter between you and what was always there. And whatever that is? It’s yours. It always was. Even if, in the end, all you realize is that you’ve been wearing your existential sweater backwards this whole time.
References & Further Reading
- Barsuglia, J., et al. (2018). "Intensity of Mystical Experiences Occasioned by 5-MeO-DMT and Comparison With a Prior Psilocybin Study." Frontiers in Psychology, 9, 2459.
- Davis, A.K., et al. (2019). "5-methoxy-N,N-dimethyltryptamine (5-MeO-DMT) used in a naturalistic group setting is associated with unintended improvements in depression and anxiety." Journal of Psychopharmacology, 33(9).
- Prochazkova, L., et al. (2018). "Exploring the effect of microdosing psychedelics on creativity in an open-label natural setting." Psychopharmacology, 235(12).
- Uthaug, M.V., et al. (2019). "A single inhalation of vapor from dried toad secretion is related to sustained enhancement of satisfaction with life, mindfulness-related capacities, and a decrement of psychopathological symptoms." Psychopharmacology, 236(9).
Disclaimer: This article is for informational purposes only and does not constitute medical advice.
Outsmart burnout group is now open — reserve your place