Mental Health W.o.m.b.s

[Flickering]

Which stands for Wine, Ocean, Music, Bullet, Stars. I went so far as to mention this in a class on the morality of suicide earlier in the week, and heard someone in the back murmur "He's thought about this." Astute. When the low of neurological depression collides with the stresses of a first-world adult life in tertiary education and a factory job, one thing I like to imagine is buying a rowboat, a pistol and a bottle of fine port and setting to waters far enough out that you can't guess which direction the shore is, then listening to a few choice songs and gazing up at the night sky, and squeezing the trigger. There's no melodrama to this fantasy, nothing indeed but the frankest of feelings about how liberating it would be to finally end this self out in a place so isolated that no one can stop me, where it wouldn't hurt one bit and I could finally feel real for those last few hours.

I call it a fantasy because I don't think I'll actually do it, I reckon I'll just go on through every day of the grind instead until death takes me on its own terms, probably decades from now, and under far more horrible circumstances. Call it hope, and/or call it biological programming, but I don't see myself buying that boat or firearms licence anytime soon.

I've endured this state of mind for six to twelve years now, depending on how you look at it. Today, I distinctly recalled the moment six years ago where ordinary dysthymia turned into outright depression, and I sat down on the steps leading down to the football field at my high school and proclaimed out loud that I 'gave up'. Since then I've wished in one form or another that I'd never been born, or that I'd died without warning or pain as a child, when I was still happily oblivious to the way things really are. And as bleak as that sounds, every angle I've covered shows that it's the truth, and that all the rest is mere platitudes, comforts we conjure to placate our existential unease.

I believe that dying is very much like forgetting everything. There's no difference between the death of the self and the birth of a new entity that has never experienced anything before. You could call the self a barrier between one form of experience and the rest of the universe. And I have felt almost a kind of calling, stronger by the year, to shed my own necrotic sense of self.

So one idea I've had, while under the (present) influence of quite a lot of vodka I'll admit, is to take time out of every week to sample a psychedelic drug. LSD, ayahuasca, psilocybin - whatever, they all have the same effect of showing me a different way to view the world, and my life, and from a contemporarily rational point of view, it's entirely possible that they also work by simply unplugging the dopamine inhibition in my brain; they block the illness that makes me think this way. So why not do this indefinitely?

No, seriously, I think I will. There's nothing to stop me. And I'm so thoroughly sick of the misery of my current point of view (which by two entirely reconcilable perspectives could be called sobriety or mental illness) that I think I'd like to try something different. To try being someone different.

I guess what this comes down to is the same old shit: I fucking hate my mind, I want something to save me from this serotonin-deprived torture day-in, day-out, study-work-sleep-think-behave, and I'm far from convinced this state of mind is curable anymore. Why write it at all? Because I'm sick of bottling up how I feel. I'm not sure if this will make sense to anyone, but I don't really care - at least I finally said it, anonymity as always the perfect security.

 

[beekr]

You're here for a reason. Hang in there.

 

[Abject]

I think when people use ideas of afterlife/religion/more than your life to validate suicide it's no longer a "rational" decision.
When we start to romanticise the act itself, especially when you tie in things your life lacks. Going out on a boat with wine and music and the freedom to kill yourself? Have you ever experienced that?
That there isn't about killing yourself; that's something else.

When you start to think of suicide as a solution you're only deluding yourself. It removes the problem completely, but it does not solve the problem and leave space for improvements.

At the same time, I can see where you're coming from. Quite recently I actually had a friend, and I thought if I could just spend a night with them, if I could just experience some meaning and desire, I would be done. I would be content to kill myself.

As far as doing psychs every week, if you main goal is emotional relief, why not do a "feel good" drug?
I mean lets be honest, how much does the damage matter to the suicidal?
The issue with this is, though, addiction. In the sense that it is rational to think "by doing this harmful thing, I am preventing something even worse, therefore it's okay"

How's about trying anti-depressants? twirl of the glass dick?


Psychedelics won't even get you out of your mind..
Dissociatives seem to be what you're looking for, but I'm not suggest you do any drugs.

I just know in times like these the benefits far outweigh the damage

 

[herbavore]

I'm sorry that life continues to feel so bleak. I can understand the boat fantasy (at least until the gun part). I always have the impulse to run/sail/fly away but I think it is actually an impulse to run/sail/fly to something new as much as it is to run from. Have you ever tried putting everything on hold and traveling far from everything you know?


To me, once a week is not healthy. Yes, you are getting something each time in terms of insight but integration is perhaps even more important than insight. One of the things that psychedelics show so exquisitely is our connection to everything which imparts a sense of belonging in the fabric of life. If this is only a window that slams shut when the effects of the drugs wear off rather than a portal to walk through then there is no knowledge gained.

To me therapeutic uses of a psychedelic require first intention (I open myself to seeing) and then the courage, patience and honesty to explore what was seen and to integrate that into daily life.

I'm glad that you posted. I wish you the best in your journey to transform your world.

 

[beekr]

Truth be told I have the exact same plan as you, the boat etc. I just can't bring myself to imposing the pain on my family. I understand your despair, I understand that leaving and starting over is scary, especially if you don't have the resources to do it. And I understand that you know that that change won't make you feel any different, it'll just introduce new pain along with lots of anxiety and fear. It's hard, it's so hard. But at the same time, this is all we get. One shot. And when it's over it's over, for eternity. No more pain. But no more pleasure, either. These insufferable years ahead, suck as each moment does, might still be worth it if only for the time it gives you to contemplate life. Use the time for good - do good for others. Use whatever resources to help the less fortunate, those who if given a push could - unlike us - live a full happy life. You want the best for humanity don't you? Stop living for yourself then, live for others, live for good. Sigh. That boat idea with a backpack full of weights, strapped around me with a bike lock such that i can't remove it, or even be brought back up if someone somehow sees me and tries to save me. It's so tempting. But I want that next meal, I want that next coffee, I want that next orgasm. I don't want the ennui, I don't want the shame, the regret, the longing, the anger, the anxiety, the fear. But I want to watch the World Cup. This one and the next. I want to see the new Star Wars movie in Dec 2015. I want to see a man on Mars. Hell I'd love to do a one-way mission myself. Good luck man.

 

[Shrooms00087]

Okay psychedelics is a very useful tool in having a short-cut to the sublime (until it wears off or unless you have a bad trip). Now, this boat trip of yours, sounds pretty damning I would say the same would hold true if you took psychedelics to cure your depression. It's more likely that the psychedelics will encompass your depression.

I believe that dying is very much like forgetting everything. There's no difference between the death of the self and the birth of a new entity that has never experienced anything before. You could call the self a barrier between one form of experience and the rest of the universe. And I have felt almost a kind of calling, stronger by the year, to shed my own necrotic sense of self.

Start forgetting, begin anew, and then rent yourself a boat and fishing rod. Once you feel comfortable in the water (where you don't need the gun in the fantasy) then you could try psychedelics. A birth of a new identity is as easy as forgetting you ever had an identity in the first place. God speed.

Alade! Mystai!

 

[Flickering]

Felt less shit over the last couple of days and indeed quite relaxed. Which is all part of the loop, but it's good to appreciate it while it lasts.

I have decided to go ahead with the psychedelic regime, starting tomorrow with a test dose of LSA, which I've never tried before. My intent here is less to find a 'cure' or to resolve past issues, because I don't think there are any left to resolve - my head is simply caught in a chemical vice right now. After three years of moderated use, I've found myself somewhat inured to the effects of typical hallucinogens like acid; the average person perceives them as being very strong drugs, but there is a point where you get used to the effects (unless of course you want to take them up to eleven). However, I do still find the experiences themselves very uplifting, energising and interesting, and usually for a week or two after the trip, my head is clear and far less troubled. I'm not sure if that effect will last if I put psychedelics into a weekly diet, but it seems worth trying. Varying the substance used may help in this regard, one week mushrooms, the next ketamine, the next salvia, etc.

And yes, integration is one of the more important parts of any trip - indeed the last time I took acid was three months ago, and even though it was a very low dose by what I'm used to, it had a profound, lasting effect on my personality. I recognise and respect that you need to be able to work through what the trip has shown you. However, I intuit that there are times when repeated experiences might actually benefit you more. Take ayahuasca - it's not uncommon to hear of people drinking the brew for five or ten days straight, putting themselves through a kind of psychedelic gauntlet to be born again. I feel as though, at this point in my life, the promise of a personality-altering experience on such a regular basis would be enough to get me through the pressures of work, study and depression. It seems to me that the biggest things missing from my life are a sense of awe and purpose.

That's one reason I would not turn to anti-depressants, which I have tried before, or feel-good drugs like cocaine. In fact, another reason I'm doing this is to stop myself from drinking; if I have a trip to look forward to, I'll tend to spend my money on accruing it rather than a bottle of port every couple of nights. Works out cheaper in the long run.

Thanks for the feedback. I was actually embarrassed after posting this and didn't want to go back and look at it. I normally keep this stuff to myself because I have difficulty expressing it.

The boat fantasy... truth be told, I believe there's a 90% chance I will end up killing myself, one day, but I simply hope it'll be in my old age, and out of contentment rather than desperation. And that is how I would like to die. I recognise that my longing for that right now, in my youth, is just a form of sickness. It's one big thing keeping me from doing it. Another is family and friends. But there are times when I think, if I could have a guarantee I was never going to recover from this disease, I'd do it right fucking now. It sucks your soul straight out and makes you wish you'd died years ago, while your life still had meaning. If you've been there, or are there, you'll know exactly what I mean. The very fact of existing becomes an enormous, day-to-day struggle.

I don't literally believe in reincarnation, that the self transcends and reforms into another body, or that any of this happens for 'a reason'. That doesn't make sense to me on any level. I do believe that death is the end, but I take Alan Watt's view on things. That you can approach the matter of endings with some peace of mind when you think of simply going to sleep and never waking up again; and that a new life wakes up without ever having been asleep. You could say that all life in the universe has only ever been a continuous, dazzling cycle of this very phenomenon, over and over again, consciousness comprising an immortal realm that segregates itself and sees things in truly brand new ways every single time. There is no real difference between forgetting and dying.

 

[Shrooms00087]

The boat fantasy... truth be told, I believe there's a 90% chance I will end up killing myself, one day, but I simply hope it'll be in my old age, and out of contentment rather than desperation. And that is how I would like to die. I recognise that my longing for that right now, in my youth, is just a form of sickness.

It's a form of corrosive thought. For instance, what are you really killing in these fantasies? I would say you putting emphasis on Watt's quote sums it up pretty well.

There is no real difference between forgetting and dying.

"truth be told, I believe there's a 90% chance I will end up killing myself, one day, but I simply hope it'll be in my old age, and out of contentment rather than desperation. And that is how I would like to die[Be]. I recognise that my longing for that right now, in my youth"

There is a good quote from the Bible we can liken to your transcendence:
"No, they pour new wine into new wineskins, and both are preserved." Matthew 9:17

 

[Flickering]

What I'm killing in these fantasies is my self. Outside the fantasy, though, I feel there's more to explore with this self before it disappears forever. Part of me wants to forget, another part does not. It is not a comfortable position to be in.

Certainly it seems the way I would like to die is much the same way I would like to live: in peace and splendid isolation.

I'm not sure I understand the relevance of the passage. Wouldn't simply forgetting the old identity be like pouring new wine into an old wineskin?

 

[Shrooms00087]

No, you keep the new (aged wine) into new wineskins, thus preserving both. Forget what you want to forget and remember what you want to remember in peace and isolation. Saying there is parts you want to keep and want to lose means you do not really want to destroy your Self because the Self is the totality of you. It seems you want to part out what you want to destroy.