PTSD & THE POWER OF NATURAL PLANT MEDICINES

BY JORDAN PERSON

Serving in the military is a different way of life; it changes men and women forever. According to the CDC, veteran suicide, especially in those age 18-34, is higher than ever. 1 Keep reading to learn the details that shaped the life of former Tactile Infantry Fire Team Leader for the U.S Army, Matt Kahl. Learn about his attempt at suicide and what put him on the path to cannabis and plant medicines.

“So, there I was, 29 and wanting more stability in my life. I just had my son, and I wanted to do something he could look up to. Freedom was always important to me, the principles of the constitution, and the oath of service. So I made the decision to enlist in th Army, specifically the infantry,” recalls Kahl. “I joined very late as far as average age, but my ASVAB scores allowed me easy entry. I remember the day I got to my unit. My commanding officer started yelling at me, ‘You are the dumbest smart person I have ever met.’ I explained that I wanted to fight a war, not sit behind a desk.”

Kahl comes from a military background, moving several times while growing up. “I was an English-speaking minority in Norway, several places in Europe, and Tokyo. North Carolina was where we always returned though,” Kahl explains. Instead of enlisting right out of high school, he chose to attend Appalachian University in North Carolina to study behavioral neuroscience. “Once I was done; my undergrad studies were over, and the fun part of learning was gone; it became clear it would be 8 more years before I could have my own lab, and that wasn’t the route I wanted to take with my life,” says Kahl.

Kahl served from 2007-2011. He recalls, “The level of comradery is something I still miss, because it’s like nothing else. You must be ready to fight for the life of the soldier to your right or left. There is the nonsense of rock stacking and hole digging, or punitive manual labor like mowing the grass with scissors. The commanding officers became very creative with their punishments for people that screwed up. I think because I was older, I knew if I paid attention and listened, it made a world of difference. I proved to my officers I was a stellar soldier, and I got to go to courses and trainings to teach my fellow soldiers what I had learned. I had a lot of opportunities that built my confidence.” Kahl was based at Fort Campbell, Kentucky and deployed twice to Afghanistan. “My first deployment went fantastic by all accounts,” Kahl explains. “I knocked out 15 months overseas. We lost a few guys, but it felt like we did well as a unit. After you get home, there is a honeymoon period: being near your family, having good food, and all the freedoms we take for granted.” After the success of Kahl’s first deployment, his commanding officer attempted to convince him to join the officer corps. “I wanted to be a non-commissioned officer first. Instead, I was pulled off the front line (which I loved) and given a job doing exactly what I didn’t want. The move took away my option for advancement. I was isolated from all the people I deployed with. I went from being on the front lines to spending the vast majority of my time doing inventory. The stress of what I was responsible for (millions of dollars in equipment) began to weigh on me,” says Kahl.

It wasn’t just the stress of the new role; the toll that deployment took on Kahl was more than he realized. “Losing friends, and the second guessing that goes with it, is the hardest part. Survivor’s guilt is all tied up in it. You constantly ask yourself, ‘What could I have done to stop it, could I have run faster or held on tighter, done something, done anything to prevent my brother from dying?’” Thoughts like these can amplify PTSD symptoms and lead to severe depression and anxiety. “Right around Christmas 2009, I tried to commit suicide with an overdose. I ate it all, everything I could find. From cold medicine and cough suppressants to opiates and every pharmaceutical in the cabinet. The doctors pumped my stomach, and I was fine. My son was only two at the time. When he came to the hospital, he held my finger and said ‘Daddy, why are you sick?’ The right answer was, ‘I did this to myself.’ But I could not tell my child that. So I told him, ‘Daddy is getting better, and you won’t have to see me here again.’ I knew I needed to be there for family, my unit, and future units. So, I pulled myself together.” During his second deployment, Kahl sustained several injuries. The Financial Liability Investigations of Property Loss (FLIPL) said it was an IUD. “I remember a big boom, and I remember hitting my face and flying through the air. I remember hearing ‘Kahl hang on.’ It is still unclear what we may have hit at 45 mph. The vehicle was destroyed. I was ejected from the vehicle, hitting my face on the turret shield. My upper left jaw was pulverized; I had extensive facial fractures, traumatic brain injury, cervical, thoracic, and lumbar spine injuries. When I came to, I couldn’t understand speech very well; I couldn’t read; my jaw required surgery.”

Soldiers in combat feel a rush or thrill that can be addicting. They have been trained to do a very specific job, and the desire remains long after the ability to perform the duty. Doctors attempted to diagnose Kahl with PTSD twice. The first time was after his suicide attempt. “I was lying to everyone including myself. I tried to claim what I did was an accident. I was released fairly quickly to get my life back in order. I refused the diagnosis of PTSD at that time. I denied that I had it to myself and everyone else. “The only thing that gave my life meaning was to get back out there on the front line. One of my doctors told me, ‘you are living for the sake of your unit, they will move on if you are not there. You need to learn how to live for yourself and your family, and this PTSD diagnosis will help you and your family.’ But of course I rejected it immediately. “The diagnosis of PTSD is a career death sentence for those soldiers that want to remain fighting on the front lines.” Kahl finally accepted the diagnosis of PTSD.

“Over the next four years, there were 96 different prescriptions, but the most I had to take at one time was 20 pills. There were always at least 3 pain pills, 2 benzos (valium and xanax). I was on 30mg of Valium and 2mg of Xanax three times a day, plus the mood stabilizers, anti-seizure meds, SRI’s, and the list goes on. I lost my identity after being told I could not do my job (being on the front line); the pills kept everything masked,” says Kahl. Over time pharmaceuticals can significantly change you, especially the high, frequent dosing experienced by many veterans. “One day my wife filmed me playing with my son; I was nodding off and couldn’t answer her questions. She showed me the video when I was coherent, and it was painful to watch,” Kahl tells us. In 2010, while researching alternative treatments, Kahl read about veterans using cannabis. He decided he wanted to move to Colorado to see if medical cannabis could be his saving grace. However, his wife had absolutely no desire to move to Colorado. So, Kahl and his wife kept their original plan and moved back to North Carolina in 2011. “I spent my time circling the drain. They would switch my meds every 2 months or so. It was a total crap shoot. They just go down this list; there is no science. I became worse and worse in North Carolina. I kept saying just give me a chance in Colorado. I was at the point where I was no longer good for my wife and kids. I had so many people tell me I just wanted to get high by using cannabis. They all told me I would become

addicted. Yet, I was almost dying routinely from my liver trying to process all these drugs, or my breathing difficulties, or just passing out on my couch mid-sentence. “One night a buddy came by and brought a joint. My wife was there. After a few hits, I was lost in a daydream. That was when my wife saw it; she saw the tension leave my face. She knew then we had to move to Colorado. My brain had peace and rest for the first time in years. The first thing I did when I got to Colorado in June 2013, was get my medical marijuana card,” Kahl recalls. In Colorado, Kahl was honest with his VA doctor. He was able to slowly wean himself off all the pharmaceuticals he was prescribed. He dove into the world of medical marijuana. He began growing both CBD-rich hemp cultivars and high-THC cannabis cultivars. “At first, I was straight carpet-bombing. I obtained one of the first R&D hemp licenses in Colorado. I learned if I combined CBG with sativa-dominant cultivars, I was able to start reading again,” Kahl said. As time went on, Kahl was able to dial in his dosing and figure out what worked best for his symptoms. “I started giving cannabis away to fellow veterans. That got the attention of Grow for Vets (now known as Hero Grown). I became their head of horticulture and helped get cannabis to several veterans. I crossed paths with another organization focused on veterans called Weed for Warriors, and I was asked to be the president for the new Colorado chapter. They made their national launch. I helped them for about a year before I passed the torch.”

This ability to advocate for fellow veterans fueled something in Kahl. One day, Dr. Sue Sisley called him and explained she was coming into town to try and raise money for a study. “I shaved my beard and cut my 14 inch ponytail off and donated it. We got $2.1 million for Sue’s study about the effect of cannabis in veterans with PTSD. That was truly the start of my advocacy. I created Veterans for Natural Rights. I plowed forward into activism, but there was still something missing for me. “I was consuming cannabis in all of its applications. I was smearing it on my skin, edibles, oils, smoked constantly. I was better, like way better, but I wasn’t just seeking symptom suppression; I was seeking symptom resolution. I wanted to dive deeper,” Kahl said. In 2015, Kahl was approached to drink ayahuasca on film for a documentary about veterans using plants instead of pills. “I agreed. I drank it four times. When I watch the film now, I see who I was; I don’t even recognize that guy. I felt like I found what I was missing. In 2016, I decided to become an expert. I went to Peru and did a 10 day journey; then I went to Mexico and tried another hallucinogen. My travels continued with the goal of being a guinea pig. I wanted to try everything psychedelic to tell fellow veterans the outcome. After consuming

several forms of hallucinogens, I began to realize there were moments I forgot to smoke. In 2017, there were months I didn’t smoke at all.” Now, Kahl’s full focus is Veterans for Natural Rights (a 501c3 organization). They educate veterans about cannabis and psychedelics for the effective treatment of trauma and PTSD symptoms. Their mission is to build a community for veterans to heal, find their voices, and then change the world. They regularly organize retreats into the wilderness for veterans to imbibe in a safe space. They are now raising money for trips to Mexico much like the one Kahl and five fellow veterans took to Peru. The result of that trip was a documentary on YouTube called “Soldiers of the Vine.” Kahl leaves us with his best advice for veterans wanting to use cannabis or other plants for their symptoms: “Be careful, it is powerful medicine. It crushes me to hear people say that edibles are not great because someone had a bad experience. There may not be a toxic dose when you eat edibles, but you might feel like you’re gonna die if you take too much. Respect the medicine, go with your gut, and just do it.”