I strongly believe that there is such a thing as mental health, and I know that I’ve met people who are healthier than I am, and I know that I have met people who were so healthy they were on the verge of maxing out what the mind can do.
We can aspire to a higher state of mind. Others have it. We can have it too.
For a long time I felt certain that attempting to embark on a path to a higher state of mind was futile, because I could never cover such a distance.
I hope that I can help short-circuit that argument in your mind by telling you how bad it was at its worst. It probably won’t be exactly the same as yours, but I hope you’ll see some reflections that will inspire you to try some of the things I tried.
The worst periods I’ve been through have lasted months, where my self-generated consciousness was limited to five or six terrible stories, told over and over again. In every instance, I was locked in viscous combat. The violence and evil in some of these stories crossed the line to torture porn.
I had no choice but to indulge them, watch them, experience them, refine them. I experienced full body adrenaline rushes, hallucinations of utterly overwhelming intensity, and the depth and height of heroic emotions.
Paying attention to reality, such as other people, tangentially interrupted these stories, which ramped up again from the midst of an interaction with someone else. My ability to communicate nearly disappeared.
Sometimes a story would begin and I would be sad and defeated and exhausted because I had no choice but to experience the story again. I would look about at the world as though to say goodbye, and the story would take over.
Other times, which was much worse, I would throw a leg over the story’s black back and grabb her jet dark mane and look into her red eye before bolting into the underworld with her.
This never stopped. I was always, every moment of every day, at some point in a story. My mind was trapped.
That is the essence of my condition. Thinking like this has had a profoundly negative effect on the reality I experience in the material world. I am awful, things get worse.
But those moments when I could stand outside and try to address the problem were the beginning of my healing path. Those moments are all you need to get started, and you know you already have them.
A few times every day, through great effort, I would pull my mind out of the trap for a moment, and try to devise a means of healing. That’s what worked first.
Filed under: 2b. Living with a Defective Consciousness, asea, cure, depression, description, expereince, help, obsessive compulsive disorder, OCD, redox signaling, thearpy
Redox Signaling and Depression 