Joseph LaFleur, LICSW, MBA, SEP, C-PATP

My Healing Journey

I didn't pursue Somatic Experiencing® training to add letters after my name. I pursued it because I was struggling — and traditional talk therapy, while valuable, wasn't reaching something deeper.

During my three years of SE™ training, the program required a minimum of 12 hours of personal sessions with an approved provider. I stopped counting at 26. Not because I wanted to exceed requirements, but because something remarkable was happening: the relentless negative self-talk that had been my constant companion for decades began to dissolve. For the first time, I experienced what it felt like to simply be — without the running commentary of self-criticism.

That transformation led me somewhere unexpected. I enrolled in psychedelic-assisted therapy training almost on a whim — "for kicks," I told myself. The joke, it turned out, was on me.

During a ketamine experiential as part of my training, I had a difficult experience — not with the medicine itself, but afterward. During group processing that encouraged spontaneity (be careful what you ask for), I felt degraded and silenced by a facilitator. The next day, a colleague I had respected — simply for having an MD — made a comment that felt like mockery. It was painful. It was also, strangely, transformative.

Despite that group experience — and because of the medicine and the genuine connection with two other colleagues participating — something shifted permanently. I embraced myself with self-compassion and self-soothing. Since that day, I have not experienced a single moment of the loneliness that had shadowed my entire adult life.

What Groups Taught Me — The Healing and the Harm

Throughout my career, I've witnessed the profound power of group healing. There's something irreplaceable about being seen, heard, and held by others who understand your struggle. I've facilitated groups and participated in them. I've watched people transform in the presence of compassionate witnesses.

And yet — ironically — it was in a group processing session with colleagues in the mental health field that I learned groups can also wound. Professionals who should know better can still silence, dismiss, and demean. Credentials don't guarantee kindness. Titles don't ensure safety.

But here's what the psychedelic medicine helped me understand at a biological level, not just an intellectual one: I am just as worthy to speak about my beliefs as anyone else in the room. My experiences matter. My knowledge matters. My 25+ years of patient care matter. The letters after someone else's name do not diminish my voice.

Since that realization, I have spoken up — about things I believe, regardless of another person's standing in the group or their education. And I was heard. And it feels good.

That shift — from silence to voice, from deference to dignity — is something I now help my clients find for themselves.

The Combination That Changed Everything

I want to be clear: I'm not saying life became easy. When you go from being on the sidelines to being in the game, there are lessons and failures that come with that. But at least I'm in the game now.

What made the difference wasn't any single modality. It was the combination:

• Psychoanalytic therapy gave me understanding of my patterns and history
• Shame resilience work (through Brené Brown's methodology) gave me practical skills
• Somatic Experiencing® released what talk therapy couldn't touch
• Psychedelic therapy integrated everything and dissolved the loneliness

I now believe that for some people, loneliness is a clinical issue that requires treatment — not just advice to "go out and connect." I spent years being told that connection was the answer, that I just needed to be more emotionally intimate with others. When it didn't work, I blamed myself. That approach can be harmful.

The unique combination of psychoanalytic understanding, shame resilience skills, somatic healing, and psychedelic integration changed my life. It's why I now offer all of these modalities to my clients — because I know firsthand that sometimes you need more than one doorway to find your way home.