Show Notes
7-OH is one of the most talked-about drugs in the country right now — a concentrated kratom derivative sold legally at smoke shops and gas stations, often pitched as a natural remedy for pain. Isabella "Izzy" Saravi is a 26-year-old who got caught by it, and she's here to warn other young people what it actually does.
Izzy grew up in Knoxville, Tennessee, in a chaotic home — her parents divorced young, her father was, in her words, an abusive narcissist who wanted little to do with her, and she carried low self-worth into a string of unhealthy relationships. She found escape first in alcohol, then Molly and the festival scene, then ketamine — the drug that became her "I've arrived" moment and eventually pulled her into paranoia, psychosis, and daily use. Then a smoke shop employee handed her 7-OH, telling her it was a natural, over-the-counter fix for her pain. She had no idea she'd just been given what amounts to a legal opioid.
She's remarkably honest about what followed: the fast physical addiction, nodding off standing up, the hundreds of dollars a day, and the withdrawals almost no one warns you about — not just the flu-like sickness, but a psychological crash so severe she became suicidal and couldn't be left alone. This episode goes deep on the parts of the 7-OH crisis that aren't in the headlines yet.
Now sober alongside her boyfriend, Izzy is part of a growing wave of young people rejecting the party lifestyle — and putting a face to a danger sitting on smoke shop shelves across the country. If you or someone you love is using kratom or 7-OH because it's "legal," this is the episode to hear.
This Episode Is Sponsored By NOCD
A lot of people who've done the hard work of getting sober still struggle with unwanted, intrusive thoughts that bring guilt and shame and keep coming back. For some people, that may be OCD — and in recovery it often goes unrecognized for years because it can look like anxiety or feel like part of the process.
The good news is it's treatable. NOCD is the world's leading provider of OCD treatment, with licensed therapists who specialize in ERP (exposure and response prevention) therapy through live, face-to-face virtual sessions, plus support between sessions. NOCD is covered by insurance for over 138 million Americans.
👉 Book a free 15-minute call at: https://www.treatmyocd.com/ Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices
More from Rise Above with Kevin Lanning
Holly Hiles has six years of sobriety and a story that’s almost hard to believe. Growing up she bounced through twelve schools, leaned on her twin brother, and lost her footing at fourteen when she got pulled off her cheer squad and fell in with a rougher crowd. What followed was a lifetime shadowed by loss — her grandmother, her father, her first love, and eventually her twin brother, a death she spent nineteen years calling a “motorcycle accident” until recovery helped her see it for what it really was.
Cadence came on Rise Above with a story that breaks the mold most people picture when they hear “sober.” She never drank in high school, never craved alcohol, and to this day doesn’t call herself an alcoholic — but her relationship with drinking still cost her plenty. She talks openly about the blackout years in Scottsdale: bartending and partying, hiding her boyfriend’s BMW from the valet after she caught him texting his ex, and a night that ended with her getting arrested. She also lived through the other side of addiction up close, watching a partner spiral into drug-induced psychosis and a friend overdose in front of her.
Tiffany Mercer flew across the country to tell a story most people in recovery have never heard put into words. She’d already done the hard work — sober from alcohol, years of meetings, treatment at Hazelden Betty Ford, rebuilding her life as a mom. Then, in the middle of a brutal divorce, a friend handed her what everyone called a harmless, non-addictive herbal supplement for anxiety and sleep: kratom. Within two months she was taking it around the clock just to keep from getting sick, buying powder scooped out of unlabeled buckets, and quietly losing the joy in everything she loved.
Amanda Lee grew up a privileged, straight-A overachiever in Birmingham who dreamed of becoming a nurse — but by 10 she was gripped by crippling anxiety, and her very first drink at 12 unleashed something she couldn't control. By 14 she was shooting Dilaudid and addicted to the needle; by her twenties she'd flunked out of college, written dozens of fraudulent checks, and fled across the country with an ex-convict, living out of her car, shooting $5 heroin, and panhandling on highway off-ramps. She survived seven years inside a group later exposed as a cult, a brutal relapse shooting heroin in Baltimore, psych wards, and a night so dark she nearly didn't make it. In the end, she racked up seven felonies and landed on Alabama's Most Wanted.
Lauren Latterell grew up moving from home to home around Palo Alto, never quite feeling like she belonged — and by middle school, she'd found that alcohol and drugs could finally quiet the chaos in her head. What started as sneaking drinks and lying for a thrill spiraled fast: by 8th grade she was spending her days drinking and using with homeless people in downtown parking garages, and her teenage years became a blur of juvenile hall, probation, and treatment centers. After high school came the rave scene, blackout drinking she thought was normal, cocaine she couldn't drink without, three DUIs, and finally a year of pure "oblivion" — paranoid, isolated, and convinced people were coming to hurt her.