I Was Attacked as a Politician. Then I Did Psychedelic Therapy

In June 2017, I stood on the precipice of an enormous tragedy. Grenfell Tower, a council-owned tower block in North Kensington, London, was consumed in flames.

In that the tower, which had recently been refurbished with cladding that was later proven disastrously unsuitable for a highrise block, 72 people died in what remains one of the worst domestic tragedies in the U.K. since World War II. I was the deputy leader of the council at the time of the fire, and I lived close enough to witness the tragedy unfold in real time, a cataclysmic event that still haunts me.

It is difficult to imagine the terror of those who had to escape from that towering inferno or the heartbreak of those who lost loved ones on that horrendous night, and my heart will always ache because of their pain and suffering.

And like others in that community, I also experienced tremendous shock and acute grief from just witnessing the unfolding of that tragedy before my eyes, believing that there were individuals and families I knew trapped amongst the raging flames.

But for me, this grief and shock was compounded by the public anger directed toward me during the aftermath of the tragedy. In the weeks and months immediately after the fire—and until the public inquiry uncovered the multiple causes of the fire years later—because of my position as the council's deputy leader, I became a lightning rod for collective outrage and resentment.

A mob attacked the town hall, from where I had to be rescued by riot police; posters and protests accusing me of "social murder" sprung up all around that part of London; and after our house was targeted, my wife and I decided we had to leave London to protect our young family.

Hence, the life I had been building was blown apart: I had lost my home, my community, my career, and even some friends. In fact, I had lost a core part of myself: I had lost my purpose, my sense of belonging, and my ability to make meaning of this life. And so I spent the ensuing couple of years in a dark place, disconnected from my past and uncertain of my future.

Meanwhile, as I grappled with this fallout, the long-awaited psychedelic renaissance unfolded around me. I say "long-awaited," but maybe that was just the case within my family, as my parents had advocated for psychedelics since the mid-1960s.

Indeed, my mother is Amanda Feilding, who has been dubbed "the queen of the psychedelic renaissance" because, as the founder and executive director of the Beckley Foundation, she has spent the last 25 years designing and initiating much of the breakthrough scientific research underlying this new movement.

It did not take long for my mother to suggest that I might benefit from psychedelic-assisted therapy, which by 2017 was already proving remarkably effective in clinical trials treating patients with depression.

Initially, I was dismissive. After all, I had spent most of my adult life resisting my parents' single-minded focus on altered states of consciousness and had embarked on my career in politics partly in reaction to the fringe culture of my particular family legacy.

But as the months turned into years, and as my nihilism and listlessness persisted despite the support of family, friends, and regular talk therapy, I eventually considered the possibility of psychedelic-assisted therapy. Even so, I obstinately (and, perhaps, childishly?) refused to ask my mother for help, instead insisting on finding a suitable integration therapist on my own.

The search was not quick or straightforward, but eventually, my perseverance paid off, and I found the right facilitator for me. Then, after a few preparatory sessions, I traveled to Jamaica, where mushrooms containing natural psilocybin are still lawful, to do my first psychedelic-assisted therapy session... and it quite literally turned my life around.

Somehow, the whole experience was otherworldly, ineffable, and yet totally visceral: I actually tasted optimism and a sense of possibility once again. And during the integration sessions afterward, I saw a way out from the pit of despair in which I had been trapped.

Finally, I was emerging with a clear path toward rebuilding my life, with a new purpose, a new sense of belonging, and a newfound appreciation for psychedelic-assisted therapy.

Until then, I had always associated psychedelics with teenage rebellion and fun, scoffing at my parent's insistence that they could be tools to raise humanity's consciousness. But that all changed as soon as I had experienced for myself the profound healing power these substances can have when used responsibly, under proper guidance, and with the right intention. To put it bluntly, I had to admit Mum had been right all along.

Sharing that revelation with my mother was just the first of many slices of humble pie that psychedelic-assisted therapy has taught me to relish and enjoy, opening me up to an enchanted universe full of mysteries, synchronicities, and potentialities that I had previously refused even to contemplate.

My curiosity and enthusiasm have been reawakened, now finding inspiration in how little I know and how much there is to discover in both the beautiful world outside and the rather more shadowy world inside.

Indeed, for me, the psychedelics have proven to be just a gateway into the inner work I now see I need to do; and from there, that psychedelic-assisted therapy experience has been just one tool, amongst many, that I can use to support me on this lifelong journey of discovery, healing, and (I hope) growth.

Therefore, having experienced the transformative power of psychedelic-assisted therapy first-hand, I realized that I had not only the opportunity but also the obligation to support and continue my mother's life-long mission, with a particular focus on how to expand safe and legal access to psychedelic therapies.

Just in the last few years, the stigma attached to psychedelics has reduced almost beyond recognition. However, there is still much work to be done before these potentially life-altering therapies can be made safely, lawfully, and affordably accessible to all who could benefit from them.

My journey has taught me that, despite what our societal norms and conventional medical practices suggest, alternative therapies like psychedelics hold great promise for those in need. I believe we have only scratched the surface of the potential of psychedelic-assisted therapy. I hope that by sharing my personal journey, I can contribute to breaking down the stigmas and misconceptions still surrounding this field.

The trauma of Grenfell was an earthquake that upended my life. Yet it led me to a form of healing that I would not have considered otherwise. Psychedelics, it turns out, are not merely an avenue for escape or a remnant of rebellious youth. For me, they became a path toward recovery, acceptance, and a new beginning.

All views expressed in this article are the author's own.

Rock Feilding-Mellen is an entrepreneur, investor, and one of the co-founders of Beckley Waves, a venture studio explicitly formed to build and invest in a thriving psychedelic ecosystem to advance mental health and human flourishing.

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