Jun 19

 Running at an extremely low ebb. I know I am not doing myself any favours - not going out, not really talking to people, not seeing anyone, not doing anything. Constantly fatigued. I am sleeping a lot. And not moving. I uh. Yeah. At a high orbit level. Observing myself. Literally just curled in a ball waiting to die.

I get it.

It's not good.

But also.

This is my most "comfortable" spot.

Everything else beyond this is pain.

And. I have no inclination to be alive. To take part in the world. To do.. whatever it is that people do. No incentive. No joy. So.

This Monday, therapy day, I had major anxiety. Super high anxiety. Why ? Good question. Don't know. I think my anxiety has been elevated somewhat lately - probably isolation and not moving is feeding that slowly ( because surprise surprise, if you isolate yourself, no contact, no outside world, you start going crackers, not least of which is anxiety build up )  - but eh, Monday was bad. Perhaps because I needed to go out ? And be at a place at a time ? Rationally there is no reason. On paper none of that makes any sense. It was my... fifth ? fourth ? Idk. Session. So not like I hadn't been there before. If it was rational you'd imagine the first session would have had the potential to be most anxiety inducing.

But sometimes. Not all the time. But sometimes with mental fuckery. It doesn't have a rational foundation. In my experience, with more serious dysfunctions, depression, anxiety, paranoia, bi polar, borderline, whatever. All those kind of Your Brain Aint Right proper breakdowns, they all have a massive tendency to have entirely irrational ungrounded effects, just, randomness really, and then, of course, the rational thinky bit of someones brain then desperately casts around trying to find the rational explanation of why they feel like they do, or act like they do. And overwhelmingly fixate on something that isn't connected. But they believe - in desperation - to be the causal thing.

Here's the simplication. Malfunctioning system. Endocrine fuckery. Neural fuckery. Results in an overall state of non well being. Rational mind tries to explain by attaching to something in their environment. Which is actually unconnected. As the rational mind cannot accept random fuckery, and much prefers a rational explanation to it, the rational explanation is accepted. Even if it's entirely wrong.

That's how that shit works.

I have seen it time and time again. To the point it's a real commonality that you could mark down as a pattern.

An incorrect assignment of blame. Is what it really is. I feel like shit. I just ate an ice cream. I must be allergic to ice cream now. ( In actuality no, your endocrine system was out of whack because you were stressed, caused a histamine flare, and a bad reaction to anything you were eating. The actuality was stress. Not dairy ). But sometimes you really are just allergic to ice cream. In a normal functioning person, this is more likely. In a malfunctioning person, all bets are off. Your rationalising is lying to you. Not intentionally. Just out of desperation. 

I talked to the therapist about this. They agreed. This is our pattern of always trying to interpret and explain things in our reality that is going on. And of course. We can get it very wrong. Particularly when our mechanics are malfunctioning.

Some people have difficulty imagining this. They think this cannot happen. This is nonsense. You always know. You always have control. 

Not true.

Want proof ?

Give yourself a shot of LSD and then see how well you can control the spiders coming out of the walls.

This is an example of how even the smallest, tiniest chemical bump - a dot on the end of your finger - can cause the most enormous warp of sense and feeling in a human.

Your systems are way more fragile and a lot more fallible than people realise.

And of course. The systems always tend to report that everything is A OK. Even when you're literally on fire. No. This is normal. It's everyone else that is weird for shouting at you that you're on fire. Weirdos.

This is one of my fundamental bits of understanding about mentalry. How quickly and commonly our internal narrator becomes a very unreliable witness. It can be hard to understand. Accept. You can't always trust yourself. But. Understanding this. And understanding it in others is very useful. Liberating even. You know that sometimes, you're just being unreliable. Oh. I am having a very miserable moment. Yes. It still hurts. It's still real. But. It's like a mood. It can shift and change. It isn't reality. It's just you. When you are tired you sleep. There's a big different to your capabilities from when you are tired to when you are fresh. It's a similar deal with afflictions of the mentalry. There's a big difference to outlook on a truly miserable gloomy day, and one where you are more upbeat.

Hence the rule of thumb.

Whilst suffering from any major mental dysfunction make no life changing decisions. Because your decision making is likely to be suspect at best, and an absolute shit show of falsehood at worst.

Of course. That's lovely in theory. As always. Adhering to that in practice can be hard. 

Anywho.

High anxiety.

I am pretty sure this is just random.

"Random".

If you want some causailty then to be more precise I would say this is an artefact of a system under high stress ( sad, depressed, isolated, miserable, whatever ), a lot of stress like and other unusual chemicals sloshing around, causing a not entirely unexpected Danger, Emergency state, or, in other words anxiety.

In crude terms my hormonal system is keenly aware something is very wrong. And in its very crude reactive way. Has decided to dump cortisol, adrenaline and everything else because, duh, if danger, then run, or fight, or do something.

But at a higher level. This is just a random anxiety bout. Caused by underlying fuckery. It's not a reaction to a suddenly real and present danger. It's just a symptom of a malfunctioning system.

Ok.

The shrink wanted to know how my high anxiety felt. They wanted to talk about it.

Ok.

I tried to convey what it felt like. I scrunched my fingers up into a claw and bared my teeth. On edge. Jittery. I showed them my hand. Shaky. Pre butterflies in stomach.

It was I said - ever the rationalist - clearly a state of anxiety. Probably a dump of adrenaline. 

We talked some more about it. Indeed. Just a sign of a system under stress. No root causation in all probability.

We talked some about "misbehaving" systems. The shrink didn't like the term misbehaving. They thought it was a sign that the system was working. Not misbehaving. Something is wrong. Your body is trying to react to something being wrong.

You can't argue shit like that with me.

I said sure, at the nuts and bolts level, it's doing what it thinks is correct. But that doesn't mean it's not misbehaving. It's giving a response which isn't appropriate. At a meta level however it's entirely misbehaving. I said the difference was at what level you examined it at. If you stuck at a low level, then yes, they were right, stress response to a system under stress. As designed. But at the high level, it's not helpful, not useful, and is entirely wrong. Stress in the modern world is often like this. Fight or flight response before a work meeting is not helpful. Running away from Lions on the plains 100,000 years ago ? Yes. Appropriate. Run ! I gave the parallel in IT, where people would report a problem with a system, and when you examine the code you find the code is doing exactly what it's supposed to be doing. Working As Intended. The problem isn't that. It's that the high level expectations of the user doesn't align with that the system is doing. At a code level. There isn't a problem. At a user experience level. It's misbehaving.

That I said, is what's happening. It can be both doing what it's supposed to be doing and also misbehaving. So the shrinks simplistic take of, it's doing what it's supposed to be doing is correct at a nuts and bolts level, and incorrect at the meta level.

See.

You can't argue this shit with me. 

This week we got a little into sadness. How it was the entirety of my existence. Explain how it feels they said.

A bottomless deep. Devouring. Dark.

Very sad.

Touching on it makes me very sad. Having to describe it. It instantly subdues me. Pushes me down. And opens that wound.

The shrink got it. It sounds hopeless. All consuming.

Yes.

We talked a little about my experience with being ill. And the NHS.

The shrink was horrified. Genuinely. They put their hand on their heart and said I truly feel awful for you. It sounds terrifying. And frustrating. And awful.

I said one of the greatest challenges I faced with my stuff and the NHS was the sudden realisation I was on my own. No one had my back. I was facing severe medical challenges and I had no help. It had taken me a long time to get that... fear... hopelessness... panic... to subdue and accept where I was. On my own.

The conversation included all the feelings, the hopelessness. And. the shrink said it was no wonder I was where I was. A rational response was to curl up in a ball. To be without hope. Depressed. Suicidal.

So.

There's that.

A shrink seems to think I am clear eyed about my situation. It. Is shit.

The shrink noted that I have an excellent grasp on what's going on with me, from the small to big, how psychology works, how the world works. I have a very good grip on understanding. I can see what's happening inside me in real time. We talked a little about it. In particular the things about knowing what cortisol does, when it kicks in, understanding its impacts. Yeah. I get it I said. Good for me I said sarcastically. The shrink understood - knowing does not mean it makes living with it any easier - but they said, it was important and useful. Many people don't understand what is happening to them. You do. And. You have the capability to observe it in real time and understand. They thought this was a big deal.

Uh huh. 

I sometimes wonder whether part of my problem is not being insane. But being too sane. Seeing things as they are. As clearly as I can. Objectively as I can. All the warts and all. And. That. Brings you to a crisis of horror. It's like being aware you're stuck in a meat grinder about to be chopped up. It's better to probably not know that, be happy, and just wink out in the meat grinder, oblivious of what's going on.

I don't know if that's true or not. A little of one, a little of another I suspect.

We talked about being broken.

I am broken.

The shrink really didn't like that.

That is not very compassionate.

I smiled. It's not about being kind or unkind. If something is broken, it's broken. If a broom is broken you aren't being unkind. It just doesn't work anymore.

They re-iterated it wasn't a compassionate way to see myself. I was not broken.

I pushed back.

I am so broken. In so many ways. We can all break. In so many ways. We are so fragile.

The shrink talked about the brain being plastic. Always adapting. Always reshaping itself. Different neural pathways. Reinforcing some. Letting others fade. And in such ways. There was always hope - from a mental perspective. It can always be fixed.

Always ? I queried, already spotting the fallacy.

Always.

Always is a strong term I said.

Well. Ok. Yes. Always is a strong term. Maybe not always.

I smiled. I get what you mean. I am just poking.

No the shrink said. It's important. You're right. To properly define it.

Uh huh.

Right at the end we talked a little about empathy. Compassion.

I re-iterated in a slightly different way again about how I thought people were important. Unique. Beautiful. And that my advice to people - depends on the person - but was so often for someone to give themselves a break. How hard life was. Even in the best of circumstances. Just getting through a day. Hard. And for people to stop beating themselves up. It's ok to rest. It's ok not to have done the thing. Be kind to yourself.

Yes.

You can see where this is going.

So. The shrink said. Endlessly giving to others. And how does that relate to you ? That advice ?

I grinned.

Ah. Yes. Well. That's where it all starts to go wrong.

None for you.

Yeah.

I can see that. That's what I thought. You give to others but not yourself.

And with that, our time was up.

So. They've figured that out about me. Not that it was a secret. Or a revelation. But it indicates that they are getting a picture of me on many levels.

This week I was slightly surprised they didn't start on some actual therapeutic inroad. I don't know. Drink more Green Tea. Count to 10 with your eyes closed. Invest in crystals.

We just wandered again this week. Me telling them who I am. How the world looks to me. How the universe functions according to me. The clockwork.

I briefly talked to a friend this week about it.

They pondered whether the shrink had figured out that they couldn't really say much therapeutically to me. Or structurally. Or medically. Because I already knew it all. And that the best way to help me. Was just talk to me instead.

I don't know. 

Perhaps they will wait another week to therapy dump on me.

Or maybe not.

I get the tiny impression they are learning from me as they follow me down my paths. Not just about me. But about Stuff. I mean. We do cover a lot of tangents. Physics. And the Universe. And stuff.

I could be entirely wrong and it's just a little ego creeping in thinking I am showing someone something.

Hard to tell sometimes.

Eternal vigilance. Don't be a prick.

Or is that just my inner critic forever kicking me.

Wood. Trees. Not seeing them.