This is hard for me to write.
I was mentored, trained, and eventually became partners and best friends with Lex Kogan - an ibogaine provider of about seventeen years, originally trained by Eric Taub. Lex has taught me everything I know. His knowledge of neurobiology and neurochemistry and it's relation to ibogaine was nothing short of profound and genius. His metaphors to describe things for the masses was the stuff from fantasy novels.
Lex taught me what friendship was. I've been moving around for about thirteen years and have no stable relationships to speak of, aside from family members and my current boyfriend. Lex was my brother, psychically connected, "cut from the same cloth" - he would always say, and taught me what unconditional friendship and family is. He was my one stable set of roots on this planet, other than blood relatives, and now he is gone.
Lex passed away on 12/25/2017. I'm shocked. I haven't even accepted it as a reality yet. I found myself emailing him today. I got asked a question about ibogaine earlier this morning and immediately went to write him, as I didn't know the answer. I still had so much to learn from him. I'm not prepared to be on my own without him. He saved me from the grips of suboxone, put me on my path as an ibogaine provider, and has helped guide every decision in my life since 2011. He's helped me through every difficult thing I've been through since 2011 and helped me out of some tough situations. Lex recently saved a patient of mine in Cambodia.
So this is a combination post. I've left Cambodia as the people I teamed up with were not who they said they were and compromised a couple of treatments, one in particular -- breaking every safety protocol on the planet (as well as common sense), and without Lex, I cannot say whether my patient would still be alive. Lex knew how to keep me calm, he knew when I needed to be yelled at, and he knew when I needed him.
There is so much knowledge I've tried to retain from him. So many neurobiological metaphors to describe ibogaine's action on the brain. So many things he saved me from. Lex saw things in me I still don't see. But I want to live up to what he saw in me. I want to continue his work and continue his dream of "giving ibogaine to as many people as possible until I die".
I know I cannot write out my feelings correctly at this time. More clarity will come soon, I hope. Maybe a story or a poem. Lex and I co-wrote a couple of papers together. One was on suboxone and ibogaine and another one on nicotine and ibogaine. I've added the papers to the "media and press" page and I encourage you to take a look at them.
If Lex was a part of your life and you have anything to say in remembrance, favorite memory, or thank you - please email me at firstname.lastname@example.org - I'm compiling a booklet. I want his family to know how much he meant to so many people. How many people owe their current lives to him.
Lex, I'm not prepared for this. I feel lost without you and alone in the world again. I keep hoping this is a cruel joke and you'll pop up somewhere. I keep hoping you'll get in touch with me. I love you and have no idea how I'll ever live up to your larger than life personality and brain power. I love you.