“Just trying to figure shit out.”

Maybe. Things are speeding by like an engine in high rev but not in any gear. Stuff ain’t sticking. So much stuff, where to begin? More or less a continuation of where the last book ended. I’m wondering about the mushroom thing. Whether it has anything to do with this feeling, this racing mind. Suddenly meditation makes more sense. And in the background a question involving the difference between how this feels, and whether it’s normal, more normal? I mean, compared to whatever was before.

Index @ Livejournal. Index @ WordPress.
What was before? Felt like nothing good. Depression? Well, whatever options there are as a forty something year old. I don’t think it’s unfair to expect what anyone feels as they get older to be something difficult. Something not so nice. Something unpleasant. I guess the reasons are all the same as whatever might have made life a challenge to a younger person, it’s just that it gets more challenging, because getting older comes with its own challenges.

So there’s that.

All the stuff that that entails. And no an older body does not work like a younger body used to. An older mind does not work like a younger mind used to. Not just where it involves thinking. There’s all sorts of stuff. Psychology. Is this the part that I go oh yeah, it’s like magic mushrooms solve all that. Somehow take away the reality of the situation. No, not really. A big part of this next bit involves trying to figure that out. Not that that is what I’m aiming for either anyway. It’s incidental. So what is the reason for the ‘shroom thing, the motivation?

What’s the motivation for anything?

So you get dropped into the middle of a situation and you take it all in. You figure out you have this and you have that option, a number of different things to keep you busy. A whole bunch of stuff on offer that’s available to satisfy your needs, keep you alive, survive, thrive. Some of it is good, some of it is bad, some of it works, some of it doesn’t. In fact, a lot of it is bad. In fact a lot of it doesn’t work. A lot of the stuff in the situation you find yourself in is a mess, it’s atrocious. So you try to figure shit out. And that’s all this is.

Just trying to figure shit out.

Psilocybin mushrooms.
@ ‘Benefits Of Microdosing With LSD And Psilocybin Mushrooms’ (reset.me); “Along with being what one study participant has called an “all-chakra enhancer,” microdosing shows promise in treating cluster headaches, the pain of which is said to exceed that of childbirth and kidney stones. Through his work with a group called Clusterbusters®, Fadiman has come in contact with a number of cluster headache sufferers who have found relief from this condition through the use of LSD and mushrooms after all other treatments have failed. While the doses that such sufferers use to treat their headaches are generally too large to be considered sub-perceptual, Fadiman mentioned one subject who used a microdose of LSD to get rid of an “ice pick headache” (so named because its pain has been compared to that of an ice pick going into one’s skull) within five to 10 seconds. That subject achieved the same result several times over the next few months. Since then, her headaches have ceased.”

So three weeks in what thoughts around the subject of taking a (weekly) micro dose of the ‘shroom? There are a lot of thoughts. At first I wasn’t expecting it to get complicated, not intending to push it that far, doubting that any effect would be that noticeable, and compared to an actual normal dose trip the experience is different, it is more subtle, or at least I imagine from the outside this is what it would look like. And so the question whether it’s similar or not, whether it makes a difference.

Well… There was a moment last week I thought you know what, this is too much. Something has happened to me, I’ve done something to myself that is not healthy. That it would be completely possible to put a particular moment down on paper and all the thoughts that occurred during an experience I was having, point at it and go “no; not good”. If this is coming from that, if this has come about from doing what you’ve done for the past three weeks, once you can step aside and reflect on it then it could look like you’d be better off without it.

What seemed a little weird involved a degree of intensity, or passion, or complexity bordering on obsessive. Bordering on borderline. It was brought about by a particular scenario, which I guess of itself might be worth exploring a bit here. Maybe a bit further down the line more details about that, maybe not right here – it’s a long story. Just that it is a long story, and it does go all over the place. There are a lot of different moving parts to it, and some strong feelings get evoked. It’s a question of getting immersed into a complex mental scenario…

A thing about being under the influence of a psychedelic drug and how you experience the effects of it involves your environment. In an environment that is relaxing the effects might be thought of as pleasant, bearable. Not overwhelming. The same sort of thinking seems to apply, to have applied here. Not in a sense of okay, well, this guy has overdone it and isn’t reacting very well to an overwhelming environment.


This guy underdid it. And it’s a few days later. But here he is back in what was meant to be a sober space. In an environment that isn’t physically overwhelming. And yet there’s this unpleasant, challenging experience being had that just involves a conversation. Some kind of unpleasantness that might only have been thought of as possible to experience when it did seem more obvious a drug was involved. Like while you are actually under the influence of it.

Some of this stuff involves things that have come before. Developments on what is already there. Two things come to mind; the situation involving one of my sisters and a place she bought with her husband earlier this year. Another is a few thoughts around the situation the world is in, and some kind of interplay between those two things. In fact a third comes to mind as well which involves the relationship between B and me. I mean, that’s where this all starts really.

A big part of my day-to-day reality involves being with B, and a lot of what I say goes on is a mix of what goes on at the same time between the two of us. I forget that part a bit sometimes, take it for granted that it’s clear. That whatever I say is going on has something to do with how that bounces off, bouncers between, bounces around whatever this thing is we have going, this relationship, this marriage. This journey we have taken together.

This trip we are sharing.

Is this the “long story”? Yeah, I think so, or, at least it’s a part of it. It’s the start of it. Do you remember that part that involved the body? Yeah, it had something to do with where it all started, or where it all ended, or how there’s this thing going on; an idea. It had to do with it all being about the body, that where the mind fits in is nowhere. That you are not your mind, that what you are is your body.

There were all sorts of radical around this, things doing cartwheels and fireworks exploding in the sky, an opening of the, a, third eye. It was on the last occasion we took a small dose of ‘shrooms, something I thought I should cling to on that particular occasion, keep it in sight and return to it if the water got rough. Use it like a lifeboat, like a mantra.

“Let the mind play it games, let it think the universe revolves around it, that the drama is real, that it matters what happens to it.”. When deep down inside you have the knowledge that actually the mind is nothing, it’s fleeting, temporary, an illusion. It makes sense that the real you is the nuts and bolts stuff, the molecules and particles. That it’s that stuff that makes you up now, and it’s that stuff that will survive, continue to exist, make-up other stuff long after your mind has come and gone.

There was something a little liberating about thinking like that, that made it feel for however briefly like everything made sense after all, and that things weren’t really as bad as they seemed.


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