Mike Stratton was in “hell,” unable to move, as visions laid bare buried thoughts, resentments and destructive habits that had eroded his quality of life.
It was the 34-year-old’s first encounter with ibogaine, a compound extracted from plants native to Africa and sometimes called the “Mount Everest” of psychedelics.
“I remember being stuck in this loop for what seemed like months or years,” Stratton, co-founder of Marek Health, told the Post.
Ibogaine has attracted interest for its potential in the treatment of substance use disorders and, more recently, traumatic brain injuries and PTSD. Before his overdose death, Cindy Crawford’s son, Presley Gerber, spoke about turning to the psychoactive substance in an effort to “rewire” his brain for addiction.
Gerber – who received his treatment at Beōnd Ibogaine in Cancun, Mexico – said it helped him deal with “what I had been running from, and somewhere in all of that I started to find my way back to myself.”
But a growing number of people are seeking ibogaine not to relieve addiction or trauma, but to transform lives that already appear successful from the outside.
“We’re starting to see leaders, whereas before people were coming to us because it was a matter of life and death,” said Talia Eisenberg, co-founder of Beōnd Ibogaine. “The fastest growing segment is health and optimization.”
Ibogaine is a Schedule I controlled substance in the United States and is not approved for medical use, but it is permitted in Mexico, making the country a destination for Americans seeking treatment.
Burned-out professionals, celebrities, biohackers, empty nesters looking for purpose and retirees contemplating their next chapter are among those visiting clinics south of the border.
Some now explicitly market to this crowd, touting ibogaine for “spiritual growth,” “existential clarity,” and “peak performance.”
For Stratton, the search for optimization opened the door to something deeper. “I came for a performance and ended up leaving in peace,” he said. The journey, however, was anything but easy.
“Flee Hell”
Stratton has built his career around optimizing the human body. But while he was building a business dedicated to improving the health of others, his own was “in ruins.”
He barely exercised, ate poorly, and worked constantly, relying on coffee, nicotine pouches, and prescription ADHD medications to get through the day. His relationships and self-esteem suffered.
“I was looking for a magic reset button that would allow me to not have to take time off and that would fix all my bad behavior and all my bad choices would be erased and I would feel like myself again,” said Stratton, who lives in Palm City, Florida.
Ibogaine, he thought, might just be it. Part of what makes it unusual is what happens After the journey. The body converts it to noribogaine, which stays in the bloodstream much longer than the drug itself, potentially prolonging its effects.
“(The) unresolved, unprocessed thoughts that I was carrying around that I wasn’t even aware of – it all came out of my head at once.”
Mike Stratton
Scientists are also studying whether ibogaine can promote neuroplasticity, the brain’s ability to change and form new connections in response to experiences.
A 2026 study found success in mice. Although human research is preliminary, a recent brain imaging study in veterans found changes in brain activity and connectivity after treatment.
“Today, the strongest evidence still concerns drug-addicted and traumatized populations,” said Dr. Eduardo Ramirez, clinical director of Beōnd. “But the most active new research…is on healthy people using ibogaine for optimization, resilience and longevity.” »
In the Beōnd – and the “hellish ride” of a flood dose
A stay in Beōnd costs between $12,500 and $20,000. Health and optimization clients – including “Wolf of Wall Street” Jordan Belfort and Function Health founder Mark Hyman – typically stay for 10 days.
Prior to arrival, the clinic reviews clients’ medical history, medications and substance use. They also often perform heart tests, because ibogaine can interfere with the heart’s electrical system, potentially triggering dangerous abnormal rhythms.
“Ibogaine is not a recreational psychedelic,” Ramirez cautioned. “People shouldn’t do it outside of the medical setting.”
Clients work with coaches to identify goals and prepare for the experience. On site, they do group sessions, yoga, breathing, massage and meditation, which Eisenberg says help “get the most out of ibogaine.”
Stratton received his “flood dose” – a larger amount intended to induce a full psychedelic experience – with an open mind. Then he panicked.
“I made a mistake. How can I get out of this?” he remembers asking a nurse. Blindfolded in a hospital bed, he felt agitated and paralyzed as vivid memories flashed through his mind.
“All I knew was that I had just survived hell and I feel like a million dollars now.”
Mike Stratton
Ramirez explained that while psilocybin and lysergic acid diethylamide (LSD) “tend to be more sensory and dreamlike, ibogaine is often described as a structured review of daydreaming life with more effort and less euphoria.”
“All these mental tapes of what my inner narrative was around the person I am, my perspective of reality, the accumulated, unresolved, unprocessed thoughts that I was carrying around that I wasn’t even aware of — it all came out of my head at once,” Stratton said. “It was a hellish adventure.”
An intimate conversation with your “higher self”
Melissa Pruett, a 37-year-old small business owner, expected her flood dose to make her feel like she was “strapped to a rocket.” Instead, it was “soft, sweet and sweet.”
She arrived in Beōnd after the birth of her first biological child shook her lifelong confidence.
“I always found the glass not just half full, but overflowing,” said Pruett, who lives in Austin, Texas.
But postpartum life brought new physical limitations, hormonal upheavals and a growing sense of incapacity. For months, she searched for a way to get back to herself, but the spiritual and creative practices that once nourished her began to feel “harder, more forced.”
Then she met someone who had undergone ibogaine treatment, which led her to Beōnd.
“I knew that when I walked through that one-way door, I would be changed forever,” she said.
After getting his flood dose, Pruett felt like an electric current was rippling through his brain. Rather than elaborate visuals, she described an intimate conversation with her “higher self,” accompanied by a sensation she likened to “neurosurgery” in her head.
One of her intentions was to discover what she couldn’t see but needed. Under the influence of ibogaine, the answer came with surprising clarity: “How fed up you are.” »
The message struck a chord. The next day, she felt “20 out of ten amazing.”
“I had so much creativity flowing through me,” she said, “just kind of an open channel that was gushing out.”
The day after Stratton’s flood dose, he woke up angry about the experience. Around noon, he jumped into the pool – and something changed.
“I didn’t have any disorder in my thoughts. I felt present for the first time in years,” he said. “All I knew was that I had just survived hell and I feel like a million dollars now.”
“It’s not a quick fix… You have to be willing to look at yourself.”
Talia Eisenberg
From optimization to integration
Stories like these spark interest in ibogaine for personal growth, but there is a gap between what people report and what science has established.
Ramirez said there is not yet independent, peer-reviewed evidence that ibogaine improves the creativity or performance of leaders.
However, Beōnd tracks its clients’ health and optimization results and reports improvements in concentration, sleep, cognitive functions and emotional regulation. Clients also describe positive changes in their relationships, sense of purpose, and professional life.
This involves “removing friction from old patterns, unprocessed history, or emotional reactivity that was quietly costing them energy and clarity,” Ramirez said.
For Stratton and Pruett, the real work began after their massive doses, as meditation, group activities, and smaller “split” doses helped them process the experience.
This longer-term work, known as integration, transforms psychedelic ideas into changes that trickle down into everyday life.
To achieve this, Pruett realized she would have to abandon productivity-driven work…
Gn Health
