Links and notes in order of mention:
* The Dimensions of Dying and Rebirth
* Casey “not-like-the-other-psychiatrists” Paleos and the NYC psychedelic therapy scene around Fluence are big GPM (II-IV).
* “Key competencies for psychedelic treatment in real-world mental health care settings” Wolff et al., 2025
* Some other points on The Tell:
-I think Amy Griffin is involved with an extremely dubious scene of psychedelic therapists/sitters, all revolving around the orbit of MAPS, T Cody Swift, NYU, (I have no evidence to back this, but I would be entirely unsurprised to see connections with NYC-based Fluence et al.).
-It was reckless for Olivia, the “practitioner” that Amy and John Griffin worked with, to go into the session with Amy, intending to look for repressed memories of sexual abuse.
-There are numerous other glaringly large red flags in Olivia’s practice e.g. this whole quote:
““AS TIME WENT ON, I found myself asking more people if I could share my story with them. I understood that it was a lot to hear, and the person listening needed to be ready to hear it. But I also understood that to tell—the thing I promised I would never do—was a gift to myself. Each time I gave myself permission to tell, I felt freer.Sometimes, when I told people, they praised me for doing “the work,” because, they said, it made me a better example to my children, a better wife to my husband, or a better friend to those closest to me. Women are always doing things so we can be better for other people. My relationships had changed for the better, but I didn’t do it for anyone else. I did it for me.There is also, I’ve learned, a way that people sometimes respond when I tell them about my experience. They grow tight, zipped up, locked away. “I don’t think I could do anything like that,” they say. “I’m too much of a control freak. And besides, I don’t think I want to know. What if I don’t have the space for “ it? What if I find out something that I can’t deal with? I don’t have the time to process what comes up on the other end. Why would I want to wallow in the pain?” Or the line I hear the most: “If I don’t remember something, isn’t there a good reason for that?” In these comments, I hear the sound of their tell—the thing that nags at them with gnawed edges, the way it did at me for so long.Olivia laughed when I told her this. “You and I both know those are probably the people who need it the most,” she said. “Just like you did.”She was visiting me and John on a summer night not unlike the one when she’d first entered my life. MDMA had recently been legalized for therapeutic use in Australia, which indicated that the rest of the Western world would likely follow in the years to come. I was wearing the bracelet Olivia had given me for my birthday a year earlier, which had become one of my most cherished possessions—a tangible link to the leap of faith I’d taken. Just like the one I’d held on her wrist “during my first session, the bracelet was made of coins that I now knew dated to 1912, the year MDMA was invented.”
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