Homemade Mocha

There's a feeling I get often. It's a very difficult to describe feeling, but I'll try, nonetheless.

Sometimes I feel like when the weather shifts, clouds form, the sun is blotted out, the pressure lowers, and the winds start blowing haphazardly. In the circumstance described, it easily becomes natural chaos, something I've always loved and felt was like home. My migraines, when I was younger, could be cured by strong winds blowing into my face. It was like the stronger the wind, the more able it was to blow the migraine away. It purified my soul at the same time.

Now, the feeling I want to describe is what you feel right before a storm, when everything is still dry, the air is relatively still, and you suddenly smell the oncoming storm. It's a magical and wondrous moment. You feel it in your whole body, in your mind, with every sense at your disposal. That atmospheric low isn't an unpleasant pressure, but it's still noticeable. It actually feels like a lifting of a burden from your body and your soul. There's always a sort of stillness at this moment - a tranquility that doesn't come often enough in most people's lives.

When I was psychotic - having constant, stable visual and auditory hallucinations - I invented a place in my mind that I could escape to. I always described it as a very bland, grey glade, completely surrounded by a treeline. The glade was quite large, probably the size of a football field. There were absolutely no other living creatures around except for some birds in the distant trees. The sky was cloudy and grey, but there was never any rain. The pressure was low - very low - and winds from all directions blew directly at, and converged on, me. I would just stand there and stand there in my mind, letting the winds blow at me as hard as they could and take away all of the stress, all of the worries, all of the voices, all of negative emotions... strip me of everything that clung to me and tried to drag me under, so that all that was left was simplicity and bliss.

Ever since I got on meds, and my psychoses were eventually completely blocked out, I couldn't access this place. I remembered it, but I couldn't access it. While, in my mind, that place had expanded into a vast, unsettled, unknown, untamed world, I always went to the field - that place that started it all - when I was under stress. Now, all of that was taken away. While I certainly wasn't in a good place - hit some of my lowest lows - the only real difference now is that my mind doesn't provide me with company and an escape. I don't have my coping mechanism for the still-recurring depressions and hypo-mania highs. I'm all alone with only a memory of escape.

I'm too afraid to go out into the world, anymore. I watch the storms from behind a window, never going out and enjoying them. The rain that I would once bask in, I simply watch from behind a pane of glass for a little while before going and either pouring media into my eyes or diddle-dawdling on the computer. I may be virtually 'stable,' but I'm lifeless. I may not be quite as risky as I once was, seeking some sort of destruction (not much in the conventional sense of sex and drugs), I may not plummet into as deep of depressions or as hopped up of manias, I may not see things that aren't really there or hear things that aren't really sounded, but that doesn't make me 'healthy' or 'fixed.' No, no, I'm quite far from that.

So, when I get that rare taste of the holiest of lands that I could've ever conjured up in my mind and my soul, where the pressure changed, my burden lifted, and my soul purified, I am in utter ecstasy. I feel all the same feelings I get from my prescription narcotics, only without the backlash. It's pure and wonderful. My brain becomes excited and sedated at the same time, euphoric and dreamy. My body begins to relax and my stresses start to melt away. My breathing becomes smoother and easier, as if each breath is of the cleanest, purest air my lungs would ever taste. For just a short time, I'm 'fixed,' I'm 'healed.' I feel healthy and at peace. For that brief time, I'm no longer afraid of or worried about anything.

So, when at 4:30 in the morning I make a fresh pot of coffee and pour that into a mug of hot chocolate powder, and make myself a homemade mocha, and suddenly I'm entranced and brought back to that magical realm, I don't care to worry about the past, present, or future. I don't care to think of all the things that stress me out in life, or all the things I'm afraid of. I don't worry about expectations or failures, of what I 'need' to do with my life, or what others say about me. For those brief thirty minutes that I drink two mug-fulls of homemade mocha, I detach myself from everything and just feel happy. I cut the strings that are tied all around me, holding me down. My soul departs from my body and rises up into the air in a surreal out-of-body experience. I reach a new level of sentience, of awareness, devoid of all the strife and distractions of life. I'm focused and clear.

There's a ritual there. The process is almost spiritual. The scent of the coffee always arouses a sort of wondrousness in my mind. And the gurgling sound of the percolation lulls me into a calm. Then I pour the coffee into a carefully selected mug (using another ritual entirely) and add whatever I wish to add. I then just let the coffee sit there, the aroma floating up into my nostrils, soothing me, as I wait for it to cool down. And then, when it's hot - but not too hot - I slowly begin to sip and savor it. I can feel it pour down my throat and into my chest, warming up my insides. It's a whole-body process. My central nervous system, my brain, my organs, my everything feels the effects of the coffee coursing through me.

While I could go on forever about this, it seems, I'll try to come to a closing. Ever since my mind became less active, less wild, I've searched and searched for replacements of those wonderful things that got me through those horrid times. Those moments of ecstasy and euphoria were forever trapped in my memory - whether conscious or subconscious - for me to seemingly eternally quest to find. I often wonder if those things ever could truly be replaced or if my attempts to find them will always be futile. I can manage to capture those moments very, very briefly - such as with the homemade mocha - but I can never seem to hold on to them. They're drugs that I constantly need to find a new fix of, whereas the original psychotic infatuations were pure and drawn from the spring - the very source - that was infinitely flowing. When my body and mind deemed it necessary, I would always fall back into that realm of total peace amidst all the chaos. Now, I live for those moments, each and every one I can find.

Rest in Peace

When someone dies, we often say their life was cut too short. But, in our minds, lives will always be cut too short.

When God told Adam and Eve that they would die, they didn’t believe Him. They didn’t die immediately, nor did they know when they would die, so it’s understandable that they didn’t think they were really going to die. But, it was because of their eventual deaths that others could live, for if it were not for Adam and Eve’s loss of immortality, none of us would exist. It is death that gives way to life. So yes, when someone dies, their life is cut too short, but it’s their sacrifice of life that gives way to more life. And, even though Adam and Eve lost their worldly immortality, they ended up gaining a more meaningful immortality with God.

I don’t think anyone, if not a mere handful of people, would choose worldly immortality. While we naturally fear death and the end, not knowing what comes next, often we fear what’s on this Earth even more. And an immortal life for us would mean more struggles and more strife, and I think that most people would accept and rather move on after a certain point than eternally live through life. Speaking on a more personal level, I understand and have felt those feelings of finality – of wanting an end to all things. I’ve felt the desire to move on from life and into whatever comes next. I’ve felt like throwing myself across that threshold just to escape the woes of life. While it was certainly neither my time, nor what I truly wanted in retrospect, I do know that I would rather let that day come and embrace it than to fear it, even if I can’t be certain what awaits.

So, with that, rest in peace, Terry. I hope you found an end to your pain and eternal bliss with God.

PANIC..! Oh, wait, it's fine.

So... second day 'on the job.' In that game I mentioned in my last post, in my guild, I got additional responsibilities to be both essentially the 'voice' of the guild, as well as a moderator. So, on top of being 'Master of Trades and Industries,' I'm also 'Spokesperson,' and 'Mediator.' A lot of hats to put on! And to think, not too long ago, I was simply a kid playing a game excessively everyday on my own. Well, I've been practicing and practicing at my three new jobs that - might I be clear - do actually involve other, real people on those other ends of the computer!

I've been constantly communicating with the guild leader, making sure we're both clear and understanding of my jobs, make sure that we're on the same page when it comes to guild rules, guild expectations, and so on, and I've been putting a lot of time and effort into this virtual job. I feel it's kind of like practice for an office job! E-mailing/messaging the boss, coming up with spreadsheets and tables, analysing data, dealing with patrons, and the whole nine yards.

Some of my standard jobs as Master of Trades and Industries including tracking market trends, tracking goods productions in each town, maintaining a steady market flow, notifying guild members about all of the above, and tracking the activity of guild members on an individual level. My other side jobs as Spokesperson and Mediator include alerting everyone to things that concern the whole guild, being the voice of the guild leader, explaining rules and expectations, making sure players aren't out of line in their posts in the guild forum, and making new posts in the guild forum, largely pertaining to my first job as Master of Trades.

Well, all of this was going smoothly (albeit a lot of work for one person!), but that was mostly because I have probably one of the laziest, uncommunicative guilds in the gaming universe. I essentially haven't had to interact with other players... since most of my posts and messages have been rather one-sided. Out of the 21 members, I'd almost think only three or four of us actually exist! Well, I just posted a long message talking about how if guild members don't start trying to follow guild rules and expectations, that there could be impending consequences. The guild leader and I have used this sort of language quite a lot without any sort of repercussions... ANY... at all. Not a peep.

Well, suddenly, I got a response! Hooray! right? Nope. The person who responded essentially said that they played the game to get away from rules and expectations and that they didn't appreciate the 'threatening language' I used in the message, speaking of consequences and such. Well... my heart just about sank. My thoughts were going at a million miles per hour and I felt like I was going to faint. "Did I just screw things up?! The guild leader's away right now, but what will he think when he get's back?! Did I really upset this person?! What are the other members going to think?!" And my thoughts pretty much went on like that for what felt like an hour, but was probably less than half that.

I then proceeded to write a reply to this guild member, explaining that I didn't mean for the language to be threatening, that I was trying to go with the theme of the game (empires, wars, iron-fisted rulers, and so on), and that the guild leader is a role-player, and that I was just following his lead. I submitted it, completely tearing myself apart while wondering how they would react to that post, and killing myself in anticipation. Well, luckily they responded before my heart exploded saying that they hoped it was just a bit of role-play and that everything was fine! Whew! What a relief...

So, I was panicking for nothing. Just a brief rush of irrational thoughts toward a situation that ended well and rationally! If I keep this up, I might have to get into customer support!

Err... nevermind. That would be an awful idea.

Baby Steps

This past week or so, I've been playing a game called Forge of Empires that combines aspects of Facebook's very own Castleville and the turn-based strategy game, Civilization. While I have to admit it's addictive - more so than either game, in my opinion - it's also helping me in one... rather unexpected aspect.

I've been climbing the ladder of global ranking in this game quite steadily, currently being ranked the 3,148th person out of over 35,000 people around the globe. I'm sure I was tied for last place not too long ago, and now I'm on top of over 31,800 people. I was quickly picked up by a guild leader who was quite charismatic and favored role-playing. For instance, he loves bestowing titles like 'Lord' and 'Sister,' using terms like 'the Brotherhood' to describe the guild, and imitating to a lesser degree some old-timey language. I normally avoid such charismatic people at all costs.

I also make it a point to never join guilds in games. Just like in the real world, I hate the crowdedness and expectations that come with being a part of a large group of people (in this case, only 20 others, but the guild is quickly growing, much to my dismay.) I also often have trouble showing any sort of Thespian side to me, even in the role-playing situation. In D&D, I mostly just talked and acted as I would in real life... granted, I can't actually shoot a bow, and I don't actually call killing a dozen kobalds a good day's work. Showing anything but stark, bland realism is difficult for me, particularly around a crowd of people I don't know too well. I also don't like taking responsibilities in games with other people, also much like real life, because I can't bear standing up to the expectations, even if only in my head, that come with those responsibilities.

Well, I'm breaking pretty much every aforementioned rule. I joined a guild, I'm beginning to show my Thespian side, even if just a tiny bit, and I'm taking on responsibilities within the guild (I'm now the Master of Industries, tasked with maintaining the trade system within the guild.) I have to admit that there was some anxiety behind the decision to step up and take on this role, as it's like a purely psychological agoraphobic situation. I feel like having these responsibilities creates a situation that is difficult to run away from if need be. I love being the loner in role-playing games with other people because then there are absolutely no strings attached. I can leave anytime and no one would care! But now... Now I'm the Master of Industries, having daily responsibilities?! Okay, calm down... Breathe...

I think that what is causing for this all to be possible for me is my... teacher's pet mentality that I've had for my whole life. Sure, I'm anxious to do almost anything that involves me an one or more other people, but I've always had a knack for being the teacher's pet. Sitting at the front (albeit, in middle school, my degrading vision had a part in that), raising my hand first to answer many questions, always checking things with the teachers and staff, and even hanging out with the teachers and staff! I was a teacher's pet! Now... I'm doing the same thing with the guild founder!

I'm a part of a very lazy guild... People are given instructions, and almost no one follows through, even despite threats from the guild founder of their possible removal from the guild. I, on the other hand, very actively communicate with the founder, do what he instructs, and even willingly help out! I'm finding the same dynamic here as I used to have in the classroom. The same dynamic that broke through and overrode my anxieties in order to prove myself better than all the other poor saps in the eyes of some authority figure. While I certainly could not go back into a classroom at the moment, no matter the previously overriding capabilities of this dynamic, because the anxieties would certainly win, and even though this is just an online game, I think it's a step in the right direction!

I'm being sociable in a public domain, I'm taking on responsibilities that I couldn't just run away from, my actions are fairly visible to the world (who play this game), and I'm being charismatic... I don't think I'd ever have imagined seeing myself doing these things in the past. Now... if I could only translate this to real-life situations...

The Depression-Mania Stigmata Dynamic

The title is really just a de facto title for a concept that goes through my head from time to time. The stigma - at least my personal stigma - behind depression and mania are entirely different, despite being two (sometimes equal) aspects of the same illness - bipolar. Why is it so different, though?

Manic episodes, or even just hypo-manic episodes (which I have had plenty of, but haven't had full-blown manic episodes in a long time), are 'highs,' and often bring along positive attitudes, happiness, creativity, a rush of energy and ideas, a lacking need for sleep, and a feeling of invincibility in one way or another. Most of this sounds pretty kick-ass, right? I mean, who wouldn't want all of those things? So, I often say that I would love to be hypomanic all the time! Well... much of the time, at least.

Depressive episodes are hard on the sufferer and everyone around the sufferer. They don't say 'suffering from depression' for nothing. Depression is both emotional and physical, and is the very literal polar opposite of mania. Depression is a major low that brings about negative attitudes and views on life, sadness, (for me at least) stunted creativity and concentration, horrible lethargy, anxiety, irritability, lack of interest in things you're normally interested in, hopelessness, and vulnerability. It's obvious that no one would want these things. Did you know that depression is tremendously more difficult to treat than mania? Depression is incessant and just plain awful. The cyclical thoughts that often come from depression also have a tendency to drive a person deeper and deeper into their depression, meaning that not being able to break those cyclical thoughts essentially means having just that much more trouble getting out of the depressive episode.

When I'm manic (I'll just use 'manic,' even to cover hypo-mania), I'm perfectly fine about announcing it to the world. Mania is like a celebration to me that I want everyone to take part in. Depression, on the other hand, I'd prefer to hide from the world. When I'm depressed, I feel like it's a sign of weakness, even though it isn't. I have a lot of personal stigma for my own depression. I become afraid of talking about it to people I'm close to because of worries about what they'll think of me if they know I'm depressed. I become very guarded on the subject and may even try to convince others (if not myself) that I'm not depressed. I don't worry about this as much with people I'm not as close to because I don't worry quite as much about what they'll think if I tell them I'm depressed.

To be honest, I've probably gone through at least a short one or two day depression almost three or four times a month in the last year, as well as had some depressive or irritable undertones almost every day in the past year. I try my hardest, however, to hide this. I will actually take the tiny reserves of mental strength I have left and focus them on just hiding my depression. I probably stigmatise my own depression more than anyone I know. This stigmatising also causes me to shy away from asking for help with these issues, even from my own therapists and doctors! I have other personal stigmata for things more inadvertently related to my depression, such as the word 'therapist' (people might not notice, but I very strictly replace it with 'psychologist' because of the connotations I think might go with 'therapist.') This is nonsensical, of course, but the simplest definition of a mental illness is its nonsensical or contrary nature.

Our minds almost always, if not always, associate one thing with another, be it good, bad, or neutral. "Those kids' parents are wealthy, thus the children must be spoiled." "When I'm manic I feel good." "When I'm depressed I feel bad." When you boil those things down, they come down to, in our minds: wealthy = spoiled, manic = good, and depressed = bad. But things really aren't that simple. Those wealthy parents could actually be great parents who teach moderation, the mania can get out of control and be unhealthy, and the depression could be a healthy reaction to a serious life event that you just have to go through the motions of. Never take things at face value. That's probably the hardest life lesson I've ever come across that I still have a stunningly difficult time getting into this ol' noggin of mine.

I think I have a lot of time and therapy ahead before I can come to grips with this concept that I'm already quite conscious of - that I should not only take mania just as seriously as depression, but that I shouldn't attach extra stigma to depression just because of bad subconscious associations.

To Future Me

Every day just might feel like the most unbearable day you've ever lived through.
Every day just might feel like you're soaring through the sky, too elated to pay much mind.
Every day just might feel bland and normal, boring and uneventful.
But, hopefully, you'll have figured this out by now, better than I have, and you'll have realised –
Not every day is like that.

Some days are better than others, and some days are worse.
Some days are so in-between that they'll seem boring and monotonous.
Some days you'll be an optimist, and others a pessimist.
But, hopefully, you'll be able to face these facts in the face, unlike me, and...
Maybe you'll be rightfully proud of yourself.

You are my hopes and dreams... or so I hope and dream.
You are what I cry when I'm alone, thinking I'll never become.
You are either young, or old, lively, or in a wheelchair,
But, either way, you'll have come to a realisation and have become enlightened, and...
You'll look back at me and think, "I wouldn't have changed a thing."

Because I look back at myself in the past and think the same.
Because I know that those hard – no, gruesome – times in the past were but stepping stones.
Because I see that I wouldn't be who I am today, if I weren't who I was back then.
But, either way, you are who you are, and you can't lose too much sleep over that, since...
What you see now isn't necessarily what you'll see in the future.

So I end this letter, now, to you – or me – perhaps to act as some sort of reminder of who you once were, of how you got to where you are now. Hopefully you've found that inner peace you were always searching for. Hopefully you've found that women who, however cliché it sounds (to me, at least, but maybe not the more mature you – how should I know?) who completes you. The sun to your moon, the yin to your yang (you probably know, like I do, that yin – though 'dark' – is supposed to be the female, but the darkness always fit you more.)

Are you going to go off on these tangents, too? I hope not. They even make me tired.

Sincerely,

You

More Awareness

I read an article (Finding the Middle Path) that discussed black and white thinking, something that's especially common in a number of mood, mental, and personality disorders (though what comes to mind where black and white thinking is a relevant 'symptom' or determining factor is borderline personality disorder, whereas its more like a quality that just may be common in other disorders.) The article mentioned using 'dialectal thinking,' which is basically mindfulness, or a form of mindfulness, as being a part of the bloggers' approach to dialectal behavioral therapy, one of the preferred therapies for those with BPD. Anyhow, at the bottom of the post, she wrote:

Note to Readers
If you are emotionally sensitive, please consider taking my survey about understanding loneliness. I appreciate your time and your contribution to better understanding emotional sensitivity.

Well, I decided, 'What the heck; I'll do it.' Little did I know how much it would cause me to reflect on some core issues of mine, bringing more awareness. Awareness, however, is a double-edged sword, or so I've found. Awareness can turn into hyper-awareness, which can then turn into anxiety and dwelling. I'm hoping I don't stab myself with the knowledge, as I'm so proficient at doing.

The questionnaire asked various questions about loneliness and emptiness. When writing anonymously through a machine, I suppose I'm better at reflecting. I answered a question about what I fear about being alone by saying that I fear I think everything is futile and essentially give up on life when I'm alone, whereas the right person in the right circumstance can give me the motivation I need to progress in life. Without the right people, I'm at a dead end. That may be relying too much on another person who isn't even in my life at the moment, but that's just how I am. I need to be in a relationship or have a deep and active friendship in order to get even a grain of motivation. Otherwise, futility sticks in my head. I currently have neither.

I've known for a long time, now, that I'm not a risk taker, and rather avoid risks at all costs (inadvertently and ironically a risk in and of itself.) This leads to anxieties, which leads to avoidance, which takes everything good in life away. I virtually have no friends, no social life, and have been leaping and bounding toward agoraphobia. Many days I find myself worrying about the smallest things in the outside world, especially hypothetical job-related situations. For instance, if I got a job at a store at the mall (I've wanted to work at Atmosphere at the mall in the past), but I made even a miniscule mistake with a customer, I would probably go into panic mode, especially since I almost panic just thinking about the hypothetical situation! Another fear is being bad at the job. Then there's forgetting things while working (which would be inevitable), not working well with other employees, my lack of dependability, getting fired, and even more. Pretty much every aspect of working frightens me, makes my heart skip beats or flutter, and makes me uncomfortable.

Now, a lot of this can be applied to interpersonal relationships. In the past, essentially everyone I've ever been friends with has moved out of my life for one reason or another. This has led to an immense, somewhat debilitating fear that such would be inevitable if I tried to get new friends, so I avoid the possibility of losing a new friend altogether by simply not getting new friends! I also have constant, pestering worries about what others think of me, and so I avoid social interactions as much as possible. I also can get very bitter - a kind of long lasting bitterness that sometimes seems to never go away, and so I burn bridges with some people. In many ways, I'm anti-social, yet I crave social interactions. My fears hold me back from exactly what I desire.

Disappointments, high hopes being crushed, feelings of betrayal and abandonment, and disillusionment have all led to a deep-seated cynicism and seemingly endless cluster of fears that hold me back. Progressing in life isn't just a matter of simply 'thinking differently' or 'getting over' these problems. They're engrained in my very nature. My essential being needs to be retrained, rewritten. I've been trained (and/or inadvertently trained myself) to avoid everything that makes life great, and instead block out the world. It'll be harder to break this wall down than the Berlin wall. After nearly a decade of constant retrogression, it'll be drastically more difficult to reverse the damage and get me back on track. On an emotional and interpersonal level, I'm little better than a small child (which emotional and psychological immaturity are also classic signs of borderline, which I still theorise I have, but have yet to be diagnosed with.) And, as I sank deeper and deeper, that bubble got compressed more and more, and there's nothing I need more than to just rise back up to the surface and expand that bubble once again. Ironically, before I was on meds, I was much more socially active and had many fewer anxieties. My other mood and hallucinatory issues took precedence and covered up those anxieties and insecurities.

Imagine if the U.S. post office decided to just shut down for a few months. Imagine the amount of mail that would build up! Now, replace the mail with insecurities and other psychological issues and replace the U.S. post office with my mind. So many issues have piled up that it's no wonder it's daunting and confounding as to how to deal with it. Every time I go to deal with one problem, my mind wanders to another, and another, and another, and so on, until eventually I'm so overwhelmed that I just stop for awhile and then restart all over again. I've tried so long, it seems, to work on these problems on my own (mainly out of necessity) that it seems to have backfired. I've never been good at doing things by myself, and yet that's often my preferred method. I've never learned a second language fluently, or many other knowledges, because I haven't had enough instructors. Life has proven that I cannot do anything long term without the constant guidance of someone else. Reading a book, finishing all of a video game (including the little things), finishing school assignments, writing a story, and so on... I'm essentially a symbiotic creature by nature and require another person around the clock to get things done over a long period of time. Very small things that only take a little devotion, time, and mental fortitude I can do on my own, though.

I just hope that parts of my psyche haven't undergone necrosis and permanently died off, or fallen off, and that it's more resilient. And to call my situation 'complicated' is a gross understatement. If I were to name all of the possibilities that have been brought up as to what my problems may be, it would look overwhelming; for instance: bipolar type schizoaffective, ADHD (attention deficit hyperactive disorder), OCD (obsessive compulsive disorder), BPD (borderline personality disorder), GAD (generalised anxiety disorder), and SAD (seasonal affective disorder) are the main highlights of what I may have. Generally, what's addressed most is bipolar, which I've never really had truly clarified. It's more like 'affectivity on the bipolar spectrum.' Now, that's not even mentioning the possible physical issues I could have.

Anyhow, I think this is plenty for this post. It's also been all negative, so no need perpetuating it further.