tedious twaddle on MXE

[oxmo]

I had an existential crisis on MXE again.

This time, with some suicidal ideation thrown in for good measure. (I dimly considered suicide as an option during the trip, but only as a thought experiment... if that makes any sense.)

Everything below, I wrote whilst high. I'm high right now, actually. So if you read this post, I warn you - it's full of platitudes and stonerisms.

I'm posting this not because I think I've gained some knowledge that I should share (on the contrary), but because I yearn for some advice. A tidbit of guidance from someone who has some wisdom. Or something. I can't talk to anyone about this IRL (for obvious reasons), so...

WARNING - tedious shite below

---------------

Let me explain: I snorted some of this stuff and then watched Kung-Fu Hustle. I was expecting to feel pretty good - it's a simple, uncomplicated, feel-good action comedy, right? No chance for a bad trip at all! Right? Wrong.
So very, very wrong

I started thinking about how post-modern the film was. Then I immediately chided myself for even thinking that: "Stop coming up with that pretentious twaddle, you know you're just doing it to sound smart, but you're not. You're a chronic fucking mental masturbator. Stop deluding yourself."

After a few minutes of that pleasant internal dialogue, I started thinking about life and death. Namely:

How cells multiply in asexual fashion. Asexual cell division is one of - if not the - most primitive forms of reproduction, no?
That thought brought me to life and non-life. Organic and inorganic (e.g. mineral) matter. Duality and oneness. Life springs out of a collection of ... things... probability fields, strings, atoms, minerals, whatever. Primitive, ancient forces work together to ultimately form living organisms. Us.
If this happens at all, doesn't that point to a fundamental oneness to everything? Remember the popular cliche of "we are all stardust"/"children of stars" etc.

All self-deprecation aside - which I use a bit too much as a defense mechanism - this sounds stupid. Nothing about any of those thoughts is new. It's all been thought of before.
Which triggered another existential 'panic'. One that went deeper than my basic insecurities (which include being stupid, arrogant, weird, etc.) and straight into some pseudo-Hinduism/Buddhism.

Samsara is the endless cycle of rebirth. Samsara is delusion. Beings delude themselves into existence. Samsara is suffering. A giant ferris wheel of joy (not). That's life. That's you, me, and everything.
Let's pretend that reincarnation happens. It does, on a purely physical level (energy gets recycled, not created or destroyed... hence, everything just is - isn't that one of the first laws of thermodynamics?). But let's pretend it happens this way: you have lived billions of lives. You've been a Chinese farmer in 230 A.D. You've been Genghis Khan, and you've been the women he raped. You are everything and everyone that's ever come into being.

From such a proposition, it would be logical to conclude that you are the universe experiencing itself subjectively.

(Sorry for horribly mangling thousands of years worth of philosophy and religion, by the way. I'm trying my best here, and if the result looks like the philosophical equivalent of the Elephant Man sent through a timber-shredder, well, my bad.)

Let's pretend that this 'Dharma'/Samsara isn't a terrible hell.

Let's pretend that, after every life lived, you accumulate just a little bit more wisdom. Every death you experience brings you closer to liberation from Samsara. The end of the tunnel. Blissful rest. Non-existence.
Kind of like a hellish WoW universe based on XP points acquired solely on the basis of birth and death, with the end reward being ... what? Oblivion? Or just conscious oneness forever? Like a puddle on a sidewalk - coherent, one, unmoving in the ether.

Then what? What the hell does that even mean?

It means that your consciousness is the manifestation of a universe - THE universe... a being, maybe, an essential substance, a God - that deludes itself in a loop. Or something.

Supposedly, existence itself is based on constant change, but this change means nothing. It's static change. Everything changes, but nothing ever does. So how is existence different from non-existence?

...It's a shitty mix of nihilism and essentialism, I know. My post probably is riddled with leaps in logic and dumb fallacies. (Please point them out if you have the patience!)

I'm deeply confused, sorry.

It's just that, for a moment on MXE, I grasped a feeling of pure despair. Absolute powerlessness. The realisation that we are one omnipotent, omniscient Godlike being whose very existence is insanity manifest. The realisation that there is no hope. There is no change.

That, even if we come to fully know this, even if we achieve this epiphany, we're doomed to forget it, like a drunken haze or a dream, and relive it again and again.

Halp!

 

[oxmo]

This disorderly trainwreck of thought was brought to you by the kid who, disgruntled, huffing and puffing, tells his parents

"I never asked to be born!"

 

[oxmo]

Somewhat relevant is a post I found on Shroomery.org.

I'll copy-paste it below. Avert your eyes; it's a whopper:

--------------

You were on your way home when you died.
It was a car accident. Nothing particularly remarkable, but fatal nonetheless. You left behind a wife and two children. It was a painless death. The EMTs tried their best to save you, but to no avail. Your body was so utterly shattered you were better off, trust me.
And that’s when you met me.
“What… what happened?” You asked. “Where am I?”
“You died,” I said, matter-of-factly. No point in mincing words.
“There was a… a truck and it was skidding…”
“Yup,” I said.
“I… I died?”
“Yup. But don’t feel bad about it. Everyone dies,” I said.
You looked around. There was nothingness. Just you and me. “What is this place?” You asked. “Is this the afterlife?”
“More or less,” I said.
“Are you god?” You asked.
“Yup,” I replied. “I’m God.”
“My kids… my wife,” you said.
“What about them?”
“Will they be all right?”
“That’s what I like to see,” I said. “You just died and your main concern is for your family. That’s good stuff right there.”
You looked at me with fascination. To you, I didn’t look like God. I just looked like some man. Or possibly a woman. Some vague authority figure, maybe. More of a grammar school teacher than the almighty.
“Don’t worry,” I said. “They’ll be fine. Your kids will remember you as perfect in every way. They didn’t have time to grow contempt for you. Your wife will cry on the outside, but will be secretly relieved. To be fair, your marriage was falling apart. If it’s any consolation, she’ll feel very guilty for feeling relieved.”
“Oh,” you said. “So what happens now? Do I go to heaven or hell or something?”
“Neither,” I said. “You’ll be reincarnated.”
“Ah,” you said. “So the Hindus were right,”
“All religions are right in their own way,” I said. “Walk with me.”
You followed along as we strode through the void. “Where are we going?”
“Nowhere in particular,” I said. “It’s just nice to walk while we talk.”
“So what’s the point, then?” You asked. “When I get reborn, I’ll just be a blank slate, right? A baby. So all my experiences and everything I did in this life won’t matter.”
“Not so!” I said. “You have within you all the knowledge and experiences of all your past lives. You just don’t remember them right now.”
I stopped walking and took you by the shoulders. “Your soul is more magnificent, beautiful, and gigantic than you can possibly imagine. A human mind can only contain a tiny fraction of what you are. It’s like sticking your finger in a glass of water to see if it’s hot or cold. You put a tiny part of yourself into the vessel, and when you bring it back out, you’ve gained all the experiences it had.
“You’ve been in a human for the last 48 years, so you haven’t stretched out yet and felt the rest of your immense consciousness. If we hung out here for long enough, you’d start remembering everything. But there’s no point to doing that between each life.”
“How many times have I been reincarnated, then?”
“Oh lots. Lots and lots. An in to lots of different lives.” I said. “This time around, you’ll be a Chinese peasant girl in 540 AD.”
“Wait, what?” You stammered. “You’re sending me back in time?”
“Well, I guess technically. Time, as you know it, only exists in your universe. Things are different where I come from.”
“Where you come from?” You said.
“Oh sure,” I explained “I come from somewhere. Somewhere else. And there are others like me. I know you’ll want to know what it’s like there, but honestly you wouldn’t understand.”
“Oh,” you said, a little let down. “But wait. If I get reincarnated to other places in time, I could have interacted with myself at some point.”
“Sure. Happens all the time. And with both lives only aware of their own lifespan you don’t even know it’s happening.”
“So what’s the point of it all?”
“Seriously?” I asked. “Seriously? You’re asking me for the meaning of life? Isn’t that a little stereotypical?”
“Well it’s a reasonable question,” you persisted.
I looked you in the eye. “The meaning of life, the reason I made this whole universe, is for you to mature.”
“You mean mankind? You want us to mature?”
“No, just you. I made this whole universe for you. With each new life you grow and mature and become a larger and greater intellect.”
“Just me? What about everyone else?”
“There is no one else,” I said. “In this universe, there’s just you and me.”
You stared blankly at me. “But all the people on earth…”
“All you. Different incarnations of you.”
“Wait. I’m everyone!?”
“Now you’re getting it,” I said, with a congratulatory slap on the back.
“I’m every human being who ever lived?”
“Or who will ever live, yes.”
“I’m Abraham Lincoln?”
“And you’re John Wilkes Booth, too,” I added.
“I’m Hitler?” You said, appalled.
“And you’re the millions he killed.”
“I’m Jesus?”
“And you’re everyone who followed him.”
You fell silent.
“Every time you victimized someone,” I said, “you were victimizing yourself. Every act of kindness you’ve done, you’ve done to yourself. Every happy and sad moment ever experienced by any human was, or will be, experienced by you.”
You thought for a long time.
“Why?” You asked me. “Why do all this?”
“Because someday, you will become like me. Because that’s what you are. You’re one of my kind. You’re my child.”
“Whoa,” you said, incredulous. “You mean I’m a god?”
“No. Not yet. You’re a fetus. You’re still growing. Once you’ve lived every human life throughout all time, you will have grown enough to be born.”
“So the whole universe,” you said, “it’s just…”
“An egg.” I answered. “Now it’s time for you to move on to your next life.”
And I sent you on your way.

 

[oxmo]

I'm sober now and I heartily apologise to anyone who actually read through all that shit.

 

[CoffeeDrinker]

You should really try to avoid MXE, for future reference. Or do whatever you want, but realize that not all people get suicidal on the drug, and that should serve as a warning, for future reference. Also don't apologize to people like at least half the time you would want to, and don't say goodbye or hello to people about 2/3rds of the time you would want to (or feel obligated to). That should cut out a lot of extra stress. Other than that I'm still sorting out how exactly to respond to the thread specifically, but due to the timelessness of conversations on message boards it might take a while.

EDIT:
It seems as though the only part of this worth responding to would be the feeling of despair that you had, and I ask you, would not a feeling of joy )or relief) do instead?
Or, wouldn't the feeling of “It’s just nice to walk while we talk” suffice?

As far as change is concerned, the point is change and movement, not the point of the movement or of the change, for any conclusion based on any aspect of change or movement would be necessarily incomplete and ignorant/arrogant.

If nothing really changes, then why is your attitude more downtrodden now than before your mind had an influx of strange chemicals to deal with? What is an attitude anyway?

I am a terrible philosopher because I deal with impressions over insights, and I get the impression that the type of thought you routinely engage in is reminiscent of one of the tiny whirlpools that's going nowhere but around the center of it's vortex, an offshoot of a larger mental activity that remains in constant motion.

The vortices lead nowhere, so you might think there is nowhere to go, but there are places you can go to where you won't feel so desperate. I hope you understand the feeling behind this metaphor.

 

[CrackAndScrabble]

Nothing like an exsistential crisis eh?

 

[malakaix]

Supposedly, existence itself is based on constant change, but this change means nothing. It's static change. Everything changes, but nothing ever does. So how is existence different from non-existence?

Words cannot express how deeply i can relate to your situation, there's no greater despair then realizing the meaninglessness of existence. You can actually see that there is no difference between existence and non-existence; so naturally you ask 'What the fuck is the point?'.. sure you can tell yourself a thousand different stories about why your existence is special, but you know your only deluding yourself in an attempt to sustain your own sense of purpose. But just for a moment, imagine accepting that there's no inherent meaning or purpose to existence.. you are liberated from any and all expectations about life; you are bound to nothing.

Each moment is the totality of all existence and it means nothing, because it just is.

I've been going through this for a couple of years now, it feels like a long process of letting go.. which is not without pain.

- I also rather enjoyed that little story posted on Shroomery, i saved it a couple of years ago when i first read it.

 

[CoffeeDrinker]

What I don't get is why people who don't think there is a point to existence in general seem to think that they need to establish a point regarding their own feelings and thoughts?
Why does the drug induced existential hissy fit you're having hold any more weight in your head than everything else that is also apparently pointless? If despair and happiness are equally pointless, why not feel happiness? "because I don't, that's why" well, undoubtedly it's easier said than done, but I'm just trying to get at the fact that it's apparent that in times like these it's these feelings which are ruling your thoughts, not your thoughts that rule your feelings. The apparent logical-ness of their foundation is what traps a person into re-thinking these thoughts until the feelings amplify themselves. Perhaps that fact could plant a seed of thought into your head which germinates into positive feelings, as, in reality, it goes both ways with feelings and thoughts.

If nothing was wrong before, then how could anything be wrong now? I'm talking purely about those people who kill themselves after their thoughts eroded patterns into their mind, not those for whom their very survival isn't certain....It's really more of a chant than a train of thought, when it comes down to it, the OP's types of thoughts are. Like the word "Om" that people chant, its repetition does something fulfilling and life-affirming in the mind, but it's not logic that does it. What I'm getting at is that it's not logic in this case either, but purely a thought-phrase that repeats itself in various permutations that can do something damaging to the mind and to oneself.

If nothing is original, then why care about being original? If nothing is meaningful, then why care about the meaning of your reaction to MXE? If you ever wanted to really hurt someone, you should call them smart, and if they care about what you said in one way or another, you've done more harm than any insult could. The less significant you not only see yourself, but everyone and everything else around you, the easier it is to remain on an even keel.

Just appreciate your breath, if it makes you feel any better. You won't breath forever... AFAIK

 

[Psychodelirium]

OP, the only thing wrong with your thought process is the fact that you keep judging and blaming yourself for it. Tripping thought is like play. Don't take it so seriously and stop apologizing for it. Let your mind do what it wants to do or else stop taking drugs.

 

[oxmo]

Thanks for the input everyone.

I feel much better now, the next morning. I read over the thread once or twice, and with sobriety, I have gained some perspective.

I like to appear confident and stoic IRL, but my inner life is marred by constant self-doubt, self-bullying and negative thought patterns. I have serious issues with depression. I need to learn how to apply the mental brakes sometimes.

I see the value in the ultimate futility of being. It does afford a kind of paradoxal freedom, doesn't it?
I always tend to try to rationalise that, in fact, it doesn't - that ultimate freedom is in fact the worst kind of prison - but at least now I have the clarity of thought to realise that this is exactly the kind of useless circular headspace that gets me into trouble.

MXE amplifies these patterns. Maybe I'm just not ready to benefit from MXE. Maybe it's just not for me.

I'll try another dose today. This time, I'll keep myself absorbed in a positive activity, and avoid the mistake of indulging in excessive thought, since that only leads to downward spirals.
Regardless of whether or not this works, I'll take a nice long break from drugs afterwards.

@CoffeeDrinker - nice graph :D
PS - I've always entertained the notion of death/suicide, ever since I was a child. I've never had the slightest intent to act on it, however. It's always just been a thought. I value life, I value experience for experience's sake, and I love my family.
It's not something I would seriously consider doing under any but the most extreme circumstances.

 

[oxmo]

As horribly unpleasant as it was at the time, I think I actually benefitted from last night.

I realise I could use some therapy, which I've been avoiding. I realise I need to engage in some purposeful activity, such as volunteering. I realise that I could definitely benefit from meditation. I've always been interested in zazen. Now's the perfect time to try it.

Good times.

 

[hiphophippy]

The realisation that we are one omnipotent, omniscient Godlike being whose very existence is insanity manifest. The realisation that there is no hope. There is no change.

I for one think that's liberating.

This disorderly trainwreck of thought was brought to you by the kid who, disgruntled, huffing and puffing, tells his parents

"I never asked to be born!"

I use this argument all the time when my parents try and state they have some entitlement to my physical labor.