Microdose

There’s a name for it now: microdosing. Every morning, a measured amount of LSD to make your brain work right, like a vitamin but for consciousness. It’s just addiction with a schedule and a scientific word attached to it.

The logic is seductive. A tiny dose might help you see things sideways, break your patterns, feel less claustrophobic in your own thinking. You’re not trying to get visibly high, just nudged enough that the day is manageable. It feels controlled, almost respectable, which lets you do it without the shame of admitting you actually need drugs to function.

I don’t think it’s new, just newly visible. People have always used chemistry to survive their lives. What’s changed is the openness about it, the willingness to discuss it like it’s self-care. Another morning routine. Shower, coffee, the small pharmaceutical adjustment that gets you operational.

There’s something bleak about needing to chemically retune your baseline just to exist. Not because drugs are bad—people have always taken them—but because the unmedicated state feels so inadequate that you need this every single morning just to be okay. That’s what gets to me. The acceptance of it.