In yet another divine universal experience, it’s not lost on me that during my birthday month, I’m feeling completely reborn.
Not in the cute “new chapter, new me” way people say when they chop their hair or book a last-minute trip to Hawaii. I mean really reborn. Like in a soul-excavation, ego-shedding kind of way.
That’s what ketamine therapy did for me. And I’m ready to share all about my experience.
Now, before we go any further, let me say this clearly: I’m not a doctor, and this isn’t medical advice. This is simply my story. If you’re curious about ketamine therapy, talk to a trained professional (like the team at Hopemark Health, where I worked with the incredible Stephanie Quattrocki).
What I can offer is a peek behind the curtain: what this therapy is, what it felt like and why it cracked me open in the best way possible.
What is Ketamine Therapy?
Ketamine therapy is a medically supervised treatment that uses low doses of ketamine to support people navigating depression, trauma, anxiety and other conditions.
You typically work with a trained mental health professional in a clinical setting over a series of intentionally designed sessions. You talk beforehand about what you want to explore, and you integrate afterward with therapeutic support. Ketamine can create a state of expanded awareness that allows you to process emotional pain in new, sometimes spiritual ways.
There are two kinds of ketamine treatment: ketamine infusion therapy (KIT), which involves infusions alone, and ketamine-assisted psychotherapy (KAP), which is what I experienced. KAP combines the medicine with talk therapy before, during and after each session, which helps amplify insights and turn them into meaningful, lasting change.
According to Stephanie, it serves as an accelerant to the therapeutic process.
“The medicine helps people internalize what they might know logically, but struggle to feel emotionally,” she said. “When that connection between the head and the heart is made, real transformation can begin.”
On a neurological level, ketamine works by boosting neuroplasticity and quieting the default mode network — the part of the brain responsible for self-critical, looping thoughts. Stephanie described it beautifully: “It’s like you’re skiing down the same ruts every day. Ketamine offers a fresh powder day, letting you carve new paths.”
When done safely and with the right support, this therapy has been medically proven to help you reach new depths in your healing journey.
Why I Tried It
I’ve done a lot of inner work with cognitive therapy. Talk therapy, journaling — you name it. I’ve even dabbled with plant medicine ceremonies. And yet, I still felt stuck. Like I was circling the same emotional drain over and over again.
When my therapist suggested ketamine therapy, something in me felt like it was the right option to explore. I felt ready to relinquish control, and I wanted to be open-minded to it. Rather than controlling the outcome, my inner thoughts, feelings and experiences acted like a compass, guiding me through whatever surfaced during my sessions. That made all the difference in opening the door to deeper self-awareness and emotional release.
Per Stephanie, the persistent feeling of being “stuck” is one of the clearest indicators someone may be a good candidate for ketamine therapy.
“There’s only so far traditional therapy can go,” she said. “Ketamine helps quiet the looping, obsessive thought spirals that many of us get caught in and instead creates the conditions for neuroplasticity — the brain’s ability to form new pathways and release old patterns.”
The Sessions
Let me be real with you: I didn’t float off into bliss the first time. I was still gripping. Still watching myself from the outside.
But the beauty of ketamine therapy is that it’s a process. I had intake conversations, talked through what I was hoping to explore, and most importantly, I felt safe. Being in a clinical setting helped me let go of fear. Having Stephanie by my side helped me let go of judgment.
Stephanie explained that the initial intention-setting sessions are a crucial first step. These meetings are designed to uncover your goals, build trust with your therapist and create a safe foundation for the work ahead. Then, when the medicine sessions begin, your therapist is right there with you, holding space and guiding you through.
As I continued with my sessions and felt more trusting in and comfortable with the process, it started to click. I cried. I shook. I released things I didn’t even know were buried. Old anger. Shame. Hurt I had swallowed for years. And afterward? I was tired. Like bone-deep tired. But lighter. Like I’d finally exhaled after holding my breath for years.
There was one session — and I’ll never forget it — where I finally released a massive wave of anger. The kind I’d been swallowing since childhood. The kind that morphs into people-pleasing and perfectionism and pretending everything’s fine.
I remember sobbing and shaking and feeling this enormous energy leave my body. Stephanie had known from day one that anger was sitting there, waiting. And she held space for me to find it. To feel it. To finally let it go.
That was the moment everything shifted for me.
Even people close to me noticed. They’d say, “You seem… different.” And I was. I am.
Integration Is Everything
I’ll say this loud for the folks in the back: The therapy isn’t over when the session ends.
I kept seeing my regular therapist. I met with Stephanie regularly. I didn’t try to explain it to people who didn’t get it, because not everyone will. And that’s okay.
Stephanie emphasized that integration is essential.
“The medicine opens a window, but long-term change happens afterward,” she said. “That’s where the fireworks turn into something sustainable.”
At Hopemark, they use integration journals, offer warm handoffs to therapists and consult with your outside providers to ensure nothing is lost in translation.
One of my biggest integration takeaways? Stephanie taught me grounded breathing techniques that I still use when anxiety tries to sneak in. My mindfulness practice has evolved into something more like prayer. I’m learning to pay attention to my body. To notice when I’m angry or activated, or about to bypass something hard. Ketamine didn’t erase the things I healed from, but I’ve learned how to hold my own hand through it. I took my power back, and it’s incredibly freeing.
What I Wish More People Knew
First is this: Ketamine therapy is not for everyone. If you’re considering it, do your research. Find credible, medically trained professionals who treat it as the sacred tool it is.
Second, the goal isn’t to forget what hurt you. Ketamine doesn’t erase the past. But it does help you maintain your own strength as you walk through it. You’re still you, but now, you’re not walking alone.
Third, be selective with the people you share your journey with. People will project their own fear onto your healing. Don’t let that stop you.
And finally: surrender to the process. It might get messier before it gets clearer. But there is beauty in that. There’s power in choosing to step into the unknown, especially when you’ve been living in the dark for so long.
A New Light
Before ketamine therapy, I felt like I was constantly wavering between feeling good in my own skin and scratching to get out of it. Now, I can truly say I live in the light. That doesn’t mean everything’s perfect. But the darkness has its place now — behind me. It no longer owns me.
Healing isn’t linear. It’s not a checklist. It’s not pretty. It’s art. It’s grit. It’s starting over a hundred times. And it’s brave.
Ketamine therapy gave me the boost I didn’t know I needed. It didn’t change who I am — it reminded me who I was before the trauma took over. Before survival mode muted my joy.
So yeah — happy birthday to me.
I came back to life.
And I’m never going back.
