Adventures and Misadventures in Ketamine Therapy

I tried ketamine treatments for depression. My experience was less than amazing.

Earlier this year I tried ketamine therapy, and I didn’t love it—at least not enough to keep doing it. But I’m also glad I tried? And I did learn some things along the way?

That’s the short version. But there’s a lot more to say, and there are some things I did like, so I’ll get into it here.

If you're curious about ketamine—whether for mental health treatment or out of general interest—this post will walk you through my experience, including the practical aspects of accessing it legally and what to expect.

Like my 2,500 word Adderall post, I’ll do my best to give you all the relevant details. And of course: none of this is medical advice.

There’s a lot of chatter about ketamine therapy these days. Depending on who you ask, it’s either the greatest thing ever, or it can kill you like it did for Matthew Perry, or it can just be another recreational drug.

Or maybe…

Maybe it can be just kind of meh. And if you’re looking for the takeaway of my experience, that’s what it falls into.

Wait, Back Up. What Is Ketamine and Why Is Everyone Taking It These Days?

Ketamine has traveled a long way from its origins as an anesthetic in the 1960s to becoming what some call a breakthrough in mental health treatment. Initially used in operating rooms and on battlefields, ketamine is now being offered in medical offices and clinics across major cities, often marketed as a rapid treatment for depression, anxiety, and PTSD.

The current wave of interest largely stems from research showing ketamine's potential to rapidly reduce depressive symptoms, sometimes within hours—a stark contrast to traditional antidepressants that often take weeks to work. It's being particularly marketed to people who haven't responded well to conventional treatments.

And, of course, some people take it because it’s cool and trendy.

How to Get Ketamine Legally (More or Less)

While traditional clinics still offer in-person IV treatments, a new wave of startups has made the process remarkably straightforward—perhaps unsettlingly so, depending on your perspective.

I’m not going to link to a bunch of ketamine providers because I don’t really have a great recommendation for one. But presumably, if you’re into the idea, you can figure it out and find what you need? It’s not hard to get; it’s just a little expensive.

These companies typically follow a similar playbook: You fill out an online mental health assessment, have a video consultation with a provider, and then receive ketamine tablets by mail to take at home.¹ The whole process often takes less than a week.

I went with one of the bigger-name companies in the market, paying them $900 for six sessions. I had a (very brief) health consult, where a nurse practitioner approved my treatment plan, and then I just had to wait for drugs to come in the mail. What a world!

In Which Drugs Arrive at My Apartment via FedEx

Did I say you get the drugs in the mail? Indeed you do! And not in a Silk Road kind of way where you end up getting tracked by the FBI (I think?) but in a somewhat-legal way that doesn’t say DARE.org on the shipping label.

The first package I received was sent with a signature required for delivery—makes sense, right?—but the second one was just randomly left outside my door. Free hard drugs for the first finder! Thankfully, no one ran off with the package before I came back from a trip and retrieved it.

The first thing I noticed was that the packaging was very startup-y. I received a fancy journal and an eye mask, along with a QR code for a playlist (lol), and finally the actual drugs in the form of oral tablets.

The tablets came with strict instructions: you don’t actually swallow them, unless you want to become a superhero with the ability to detect radioactive activity … or you might die. Instead, you hold them in your mouth, letting them dissolve without swallowing. Five minutes later, you spit out the remaining chemicals that haven’t been absorbed through your gums. Fun times.

During a briefing that precedes this process, a “guide” from the startup is on-hand to talk you through it on Zoom. It seems obvious that this step is in place not only for safety but also to satisfy the quasi-legal nature of startups sending horse tranquilizers in the mail for people to take in their living room. I didn’t really vibe with my guide, but that was okay: it’s good that someone was available for questions or concerns, and mostly I just wanted to get going.

After I hung up with her (we’d talk again afterwards), I took out my contact lenses, changed into my favorite airline pajamas, and put the tablets in my mouth for the prescribed 5-7 minutes.

Drug Therapy Time!

I worried that I would swallow the tablets instead of letting them dissolve slowly—especially once the effects kicked in about three minutes after I put the tablets in my mouth. I tend to be a lightweight with most substances, and this was no exception.

Fortunately, I remembered to spit out the chemicals after the timer went off, no doubt improving my local water supply, and then I went to lie down for the next—I dunno, 40 minutes maybe? Time was a little hard to pin down.

During that time I felt like I was floating, and I also thought about:

• All the emails I hadn’t responded to

• The mattress I needed to return (at that point I was in a process of cycling through free luxury mattresses, one of many experiments I did for my book Gonzo Capitalism)

• A reimbursement I’d forgotten about for months

• A plane ticket I wasn’t sure if I’d booked

Noticing a theme? Yeah … basically I just couldn’t stop thinking about things to do, especially random or dumb things that didn’t need to be on my mind all the time. 🙈

If you’re expecting more to this part—well, I kind of was too! The experience was notably mild compared to what many describe. I felt nice and floaty for half an hour, I thought about all the things I needed to do, and then I came back to reality and had a light headache.

A couple hours after my first dose, I logged back into Zoom for a mandatory debriefing with the guide.

“What’s coming up for you?” she asked.

Uhhhh … I’m thinking about my emails.

(I don’t remember what I said, but that’s what I was thinking.)

“You don’t have to share if you don’t want to,” she reassured me.

Well, thank you—if I didn’t want to share, I definitely wouldn’t. But also, I’m not sure I have much to share.

That’s kind of how it went. It was all just … fine? Mildly interesting?

As I said, I’m a lightweight with most substances. I’ve been taking Adderall for nearly a decade, and I’m still on close to the lowest possible dose. I don’t think the problem is taking too low of a dose, but for my second ketamine treatment, I dutifully took a higher dose and prepared for nirvana.

As you might guess by now, my experience was almost exactly the same. I did my best to tune out as many distractions as possible beforehand, and the actual experience felt chill and nice, but I didn’t feel any different once it was over. The next day I didn’t have any real awareness that I’d “done ketamine.” If I thought about it, I could recall the details, but it was never front of mind.

In the end I decided it just isn’t for me. I’m glad it’s helpful to other people, I worry that some other people are misinformed about it, and in the end I just decided to try other things.

(Side note: young Chris would be very disappointed in current-age Chris, who doesn’t love most drugs. It’s not like I’m filming a Just Say No commercial or anything. I’m just saying, for me, when I consider the pros and cons, nothing I’ve tried—including ketamine—has been really life-changing.)

Final Thoughts

I ended up selling the rest of my ketamine for a profit on Facebook Marketplace, thus starting up a new side hustle that now provides 30% of my income. HAHA JUST KIDDING. I found a good home for my remaining tablets with a medically-qualified friend (probably best to leave it at that) and decided to move on.

A few key takeaways:

• The process was surprisingly straightforward and professional

• Side effects were minimal

• The experience was pleasant but not transformative

• Cost vs. benefit didn't justify continuing for me

To be clear, I really wanted it to work better. I’d love to write a post that says “Wow I was skeptical but this actually changed my life and now I’m not depressed.” It’s just that such a claim would not be true.

Often in these situations, like with a trendy and popular drug treatment, it’s hard to find negative or lukewarm reviews. All you encounter are rave reviews, sometimes from people affiliated with the industry or who received the medication for free. (I paid full price.)

So, here you have it: a lukewarm “eh” review of the current drug therapy du jour.

Two stars, ketamine therapy. I was glad to try it, as experiments go, but I don’t need to repeat it.

1. This is different from ketamine injections, which are typically done at some sort of clinic.