I’m going to stop now. That’s enough. I’m tired.
I will reprogram myself back to equanimity for the rest of the process. It is so easy to get attached to these things.
Yet - I am equanimous about it. I don’t mind if all of this is wrong. It has helped me to heal. Just the process has helped, and that process is what I documented.
I think I am done. The hypothesis came out - as usual the first thing last.
This is … I guess this is what I’ve been building up to since June. All those drugs I was given without ever being formally assessed and diagnosed.
I didn’t match the criteria for bipolar. We tracked it. And I’ve cycled… 4 or 5 times today. The writings came out in mini-hyper phases, with a gap inbetween each.
I am now winding down. And I feel pretty equanimous. The job is done. I don’t know if it’s right, wrong, delusion or truth. I don’t think it matters.
What matter is that I no longer suffer like I did.
But I think if you are like me and you get into a high pressure job like I did, you will suffer. You learn too hard.
So the way forward for someone like me is quiet and relative solitude.
A small number of people.
A small number of formations.
The chase for all those years. After the trauma at school and all the sitting still. All the violence and learning to fight. The need to dominate just to survive.
That’s gone.
That is good.
And I have a family who I love, and I know how this works now, at least for me.
I programmed myself to be totally equanimous for the last month, and as an experiment I broken that equanimity.
The hope is that it might help some people. I don’t know if it will. I am quite equanimous about it.
I got a little bit of doubt; a fair bit of doubt; as I was getting in the bath. Still there. But I’m equanimous about that too.
The cycles of insight, or bipolar, or whatever, have sped up to the point where they are many times a day. And they don’t bother me like they did.
I chose to write. This is how I used to work. Full speed or nothing. I have always been this way. Volume set to 11. Dopamine, I guess.
And the body will always be like that, but the mind can choose whether to engage or not.
So I’m going to go back to being enlightened mode I think. It’s pleasanter than crazy documentation mode. The job is done.
I’ll just write one post a day from now, in the mornings. There’s no rush any more. The printjob is done. Not finished, not perfect, but done enough. The important info is out of my brain.
Time to be with my son and read books and chill out and look out the window at the snow. Time to snowboard and enjoy life.
This was one hell of a ride.
I didn’t do the humming in the bath and I doubt I will meditate. I don’t need to destabilise the mind at the moment. When I have stabilised I will pick it back up, but I will not do the cold exposure unless things get maladaptive again, or someone picks this up for real research.
That’s as far as I go, I think.
I’ve said that before, I know.
Never know what will happen, I guess. But I made peace with the fact that all of this might not even be real. That I might not be sane or human. That I might be in some kind of trauma therapy after my family died or something.
It was hard.
But that… that clinging has gone, I think. The craving.
And I’ll keep it that way.
This was fun.
If it’s not a theory with any meat on it, at least it’s a crazy fucking unique art project.
Goodnight.
Peace.
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