Dissociation is a brilliant survival strategy. When the body is overwhelmed by fear, pain, or threat, a protective part steps in and pulls us away from the intensity. It creates distance from sensations that would otherwise be too much. In acute trauma, this response can save us.
The challenge is what happens afterward.
If reminders of the original threat continue to activate the system, that same protective response can become habitual. The mind and body learn that distance equals safety. Over time, what once protected us can harden into a chronic pattern of disconnection. We find ourselves living slightly outside of experience — cut off from sensation, emotion, or presence.
Dissociation, however, is not inherently pathological. Context matters.
Ketamine is a dissociative anesthetic first developed in the 1960s and widely used in surgery, pain management, and emergency medicine. Its ability to create separation from acute physical pain is well established. I experienced this firsthand after breaking my femur and enduring a 90-minute ambulance ride to the hospital. I’m not sure I even knew I was in an ambulance. The medicine did exactly what it was designed to do.
Years later, I became curious about its use in psychedelic doses for depression, anxiety, and PTSD. I had long been interested in altered states through meditation and ceremonial psychedelic work. When I learned that ketamine could be used legally and safely in a psychotherapeutic setting, I wanted to understand it directly — both for my own growth and for my clients.
I didn’t know what to expect.
What I discovered was something very different from trauma-based dissociation.
In a carefully held therapeutic space, the dissociative effect felt less like escape and more like perspective. It was womb-like — just me and the music. There was stillness, but also motion. At times I felt myself zooming in and out of kaleidoscopic imagery, as if consciousness itself were breathing.
There was openness. A letting go into the wisdom of the medicine. A relief from the constant need to figure things out.
Despite the dissociative quality, I felt deeply embodied — but in a different way. Not activated or tense. Instead, there was an alive, inspired stillness. A spacious presence.
From that vantage point, I could see my protective parts more clearly — the ones that try to control outcomes, anticipate problems, stay vigilant, manage everyone’s needs. Rather than being blended with them, I was beside them. Observing with curiosity instead of urgency.
That distance made compassion possible.
My life is full — work, family, responsibility. Extended meditation retreats are no longer realistic. Ketamine has functioned as an efficient reset. In 50 to 90 minutes, I can step outside dominant stress patterns and return with greater clarity and flexibility.
Research suggests ketamine creates a temporary window of enhanced neuroplasticity — a runway of sorts. In that window, behavioral shifts feel less forced. New patterns take root with more ease. But the medicine itself is not the change. The integration is.
The dissociation induced by trauma fragments. The dissociation induced intentionally, in a safe relational container, can liberate. The mechanism may be similar, but the experience is not.
When approached thoughtfully, dissociation can become a bridge rather than an escape — a way to loosen rigid patterns and reconnect with the deeper Self beneath them.
If you’re curious about whether ketamine-assisted psychotherapy might be appropriate for you, I’m offering a free online informational session where I explain how it works, who it’s for, and what to expect. There is space for questions and an honest discussion about safety, screening, and integration.
You can learn more and register here:
https://marinstressanxietycenter.com/free-info-session-for-ketamine/
As with any powerful tool, discernment matters. Education is the first step.