TV news anchors often become like family to us; we share our mornings and evenings with them, enjoying laughter and grieving national tragedies together. But what lies beneath the polished smile and familiar broadcast voice?

Kendis Gibson, a two-time Emmy Award-winning reporter who has worked for ABC News, CNN, CBS News, and others, reveals that there is much more to the story.

His memoir titled “Five Trips: An Investigative Journey into Mental Health, Psychedelic Healing, and Saving a Life” has just been released by Simon & Schuster. It recounts pivotal moments in his life, including covering 9/11 at the Twin Towers, co-hosting ABC’s “World News Now,” and interviewing Beyoncé. However, it also unveils personal struggles, such as a panic attack that cut short his interview with Beyoncé, a toxic workplace environment leading him to rely on sleeping pills, and a suicide attempt.

Discovering Healing through Psychedelics in ‘Five Trips’

In “Five Trips,” Gibson narrates his journey through five psychedelic experiences that aided his recovery from childhood sexual abuse, racial trauma, and the loss of his first love. The substances, including MDMA, psilocybin, ayahuasca, and LSD, helped him come to terms with his racial identity and his bisexuality.

Research indicates that therapies involving psilocybin and MDMA might be effective in treating severe mental health issues like anxiety, depression, and PTSD. Psilocybin, often referred to as “magic mushrooms,” is currently only legal in Oregon and Colorado, although advocacy for broader acceptance has been gaining traction recently. Gibson’s aim with “Five Trips” is to challenge the stigma surrounding the medicinal use of psychedelics.

Part memoir and part investigative work, Gibson’s book exclusively features interviews with experts of color. This choice was made purposefully to address the historical marginalization in the conversation about psychedelics, which have roots in Indigenous cultures in Africa and South America. He hopes to empower Black and brown individuals to see psychedelics as legitimate options for healing both personal and racially motivated traumas.

“Someone is going to connect with this book, and it might prompt them to explore available avenues for help,” says Gibson. “A familiar face on their TV screens experiences mental health challenges like everyone else, reminding them they are not alone.”

YSL News features an exclusive excerpt from “Five Trips,” showcasing a chapter about Gibson’s ayahuasca journey in Peru:

Excerpt from ‘Five Trips’ by Kendis Gibson

Coming to terms with one’s “death” is far from what you might expect, and it definitely wasn’t what I experienced. There wasn’t a physician present to announce my “death,” no one to monitor my pulse, and no last rites being recited. In my earlier struggles with suicidal thoughts, I envisioned leaving this world by downing a bottle of sleeping pills chased with alcohol or taking a dramatic dive from my twelfth-floor apartment in Manhattan. But now, in this moment, I was facing my own demise and reflecting on my obituary: “Emmy Award-winning journalist Kendis Gibson passed away at 9:30 p.m. central time on August 25.”

I found myself lying in a dimly lit space on the wooden floor, stretched out on a yoga mat with my head resting on a small pillow, deep within the Amazon rainforest in Peru, at least a three-hour boat ride from civilization. I was in a large room that served as a dining area, bar, and church. The metal roof above me resonated with the sounds of every nocturnal animal colliding against it, creating a vibrant jungle symphony. As I stood on the edge of a transformative leap into another existence, the shaman leading this ceremonial experience began to intone a traditional icaro, guiding my spirit toward a journey beyond my body. Even with my eyes closed, I could see everything around me, even the stars above. It felt as though a roof had been lifted from this expansive structure. I could view the Big Dipper, various planets, and even shooting stars streaking across the sky. The expanse of the Milky Way was unveiled to me like never before, a cluster of stars forming a stunningly bright cloud in the night sky.

I perceived all this while my eyes were shut, feeling the energies of those celestial bodies coursing through me. The shaman intensified his rhythmic incantations, beckoning the spirits to release deeply buried energies within me. His chants merged with the vivid images flashing in my mind, shifting with every change in his tone. My body throbbed, lifting towards the ceiling with each change in his cadence. My mouth opened wide as I engaged in an intense breathing exercise, my only means of control during this experience. My arms were rigid at my sides, while my hands moved erratically, palms facing up towards the sky. An extraordinary, daunting, and captivating experience unfolded simultaneously in my mind.

Keep breathing. This is impossible if you don’t.

Why are you overthinking this? It’s a straightforward process.

Why are you being so hard on yourself? This is what you wanted, and it’s currently happening. Keep breathing, you useless sack of bones.

The voice in my head was brash and unkind, leaving me startled as I came to realize that this voice was my own inner dialogue and I could indeed be harsh at times.

even to myself.

In the dark, the shaman approached my space, wafting some sort of tobacco over me while I breathed heavily and experienced intense muscle spasms. I took careful breaths, inhaling through my nose and exhaling through my mouth. Eventually, I propped myself up and sat upright on the mat. Although I was unaware of my surroundings, I remained conscious of my actions. Moments after sitting up with my head nodding randomly, an urgent sensation hit me—I felt the need to vomit. Keeping my eyes closed, I navigated to the small bucket I had used to throw up the day before and picked it up reverently, as if it were an object of great significance. I leaned over and emptied the contents of my stomach into the tiny vessel.

Keep breathing, a voice inside me urged. I felt powerful, yet maintaining my breath was my only priority. The shaman stumbled toward me, singing a melodic tune while carrying a liquid that emitted a scent similar to witch hazel. He gently rubbed it onto my forehead as I leaned over the bucket.

That’s it, the voice in my mind remarked, referring to the vomit. As I settled back down on the mat, that sharp, mocking voice seemed increasingly patronizing.

Are you done being such a coward? Let go. But let go of what? At this point, I had little control over my body. I wondered what this testosterone-driven voice in my head was expecting to happen next, and then, unexpectedly, I found my upper body shooting upward, as if something had yanked me from above. The dim light from the moon and the stars cast shadows, allowing others in the room to observe my movements, reminiscent of Linda Blair in The Exorcist. My chest propelled my lifeless head upward, only for it to fall back onto the pillow beneath. Just as I processed what had happened, I inhaled deeply again. A similar occurrence transpired, but this time, I felt myself lifted even higher, as if a string was tugging at my chest from above. I was beginning to feel like a mere shell, devoid of sensation yet aware of my frantic hand movements. Yes, I was mindful to breathe.

I spontaneously exclaimed, “Wow,” while thinking, This is some strong stuff. The voice inside me responded: It’s not just a substance; it’s the essence of life. There seemed to be two voices in my head debating with each other. As I lay on the mat with my eyes shut, focusing on my rhythmic breathing and trying to decipher my experience, I came to a startling realization: I felt dead. My essence had detached from my physical self. That increasingly loud, sarcastic voice was, in fact, my soul, my ego, and I was confronting this dark essence. My mind and body had crossed over to the other side, and it was time to comprehend my purpose in this jungle of Peru.

If you or someone you know is in need of mental health support, please reach out to the 988 Suicide & Crisis Lifeline by calling, texting, or chatting. Visit 988lifeline.org for round-the-clock, free, and confidential resources.

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