I started this post several days ago with the intent to describe one of my dreams which was rather disturbing.
In that dream, there was a particular illegal substance that I feel deep aversion towards. I associate it with some of the darkest things and acts that humans are capable of. In the long run, it’s very corrupting to the mind and has profound effects on the physical body, the central nervous system, and the brain. Whatever “benefits” it gives in short term use are illusory because it doesn’t really “give” energy out of nowhere as some godly gift 🙄 It simply drains the body of all energy resources and completely kills one’s dopamine production so that it then takes weeks to recover from even a single use. I feel so much disgust for this thing (which also makes people hide, lie, become extremely paranoid, and sexually perverted in the worst way) that even the existence of its distant legal relatives labeled as “medicines” and the fact that they prescribe them to kids (!!!) makes me feel uneasy.
Yet there it was, in my dream. In my dream I had tiny little white pills that looked like aspirin, and I took 3 or 4 of them. I did it because I needed the “energy” — that boost which would make me clean the house in like one hour to the point where it’s sparkling. I would also get all my affairs in order super fast. In addition, I wanted the clarity, even if it was dark clarity — the superhuman, emotionless, robotic clarity where everything becomes crystal clear (no pun intended) and impersonal, as if you are some higher being casually drifting through the messy, cluttered world of slow and lazy mere mortals with all their silly worries and pointless lagging (not MY thoughts, by the way!)
Then — the dream continues — I felt that I had to hide from everyone who would notice any changes in my behavior. I tried to act normal, but I was dreaming that my partner noticed and somehow knew that I used the pills. I was hiding my eyes from him. I was trying to hide the fact that I touched the very substance that I hated so much in my waking life. We were in the house, and I was scared that people (my loved ones) would notice the smell of this thing on my skin and in my breath, but the pills somehow didn’t create that particular nasty smell of burnt plastic and rubber and leaked batteries.
My partner knew though, and I was so sad and worried that he knew that I hid from him. But then in my dream it turned out that my parents, my parents who in real life would have a fit if something like this happened!!! also noticed me and the pills.
And this is where it gets tricky.
My “dream parents” were like “uh, okay, this is not a big deal. It can help occasionally when some big load of work needs to be done”.
As the dream progressed, I found out that my mother kept a small plastic baggie of the stuff in one of the drawers and that my dad used it occasionally when the work got too heavy. They were like… just FINE with it. My “dream” parents treated it like something banal, unimportant, and trivial. This would NEVER happen in real life. In real life they would be horrified. Yet it seemed so real and so comforting in the dream, and the dream itself was rather lucid.
It was realistic to the point that I remember having this whole thought-provoking discourse. I was pondering how come I never noticed my father doing anything like that EVER if I knew the effects of this thing on human behavior.
I would surely notice him a bit more hyper and sleepless… I would know his blood pressure was going high… I would feel the smell of it on his clothes… I would just know. Wow… if my clean, saint parents who don’t even drink much anymore are okay with this, then maybe this thing isn’t really THAT bad… It might be okay to use occasionally… just once in a while… just to get things done faster… and see clearer… and look, my heartbeat isn’t crazy at all, my heart isn’t pounding like it’s about to explode, I don’t have to be worried about having a heart attack… I just have this clarity, this dark, dark emotionless clarity which can help achieve SO MUCH in a very short time!
Bullshit, of course. I woke up terrified.
In one of my previous posts I said that some things which we block or deny in our waking life can re-surface in our dreams due to the fact that the brain is functioning differently and many of the guards are down.
In this post I will add this: some things are more than just “things”.
Have you ever thought about why they call alcoholic drinks SPIRITS? Spirits, literally. Languages are amazing and etymology should be taught in middle schools. Have you ever wondered why people on stimulants see “shadow people”, and why people who use hallucinogens see the same psychedelic entities that they can recognize from each other’s descriptions?
I don’t wonder why. I know it’s because those damn things are actual beings and NOT products of our brain’s imagination.
~.~
I am amazed by the fact that this particular nasty crap of a substance has such a powerful demonic entity. It’s not even natural. It’s made of a bunch of crappy poisonous shit which is like a whole universe away from any form of its natural equivalents.
I believe that this entity is largely technocratic since its chemical nature has to do with things not found in natural world.
I once saw a person who was living (if you can call it life) in complete symbiosis with this entity and relied on it for what he thought to be “superpowers” and spiritual insides. You didn’t need to know who he was or what he was using. The very first glance at him would reveal the sticky, soulless darkness oozing from his eyes, skin, aura, movements… everything.
I also saw what this thing did to a family of people who could be so much more, but turned into a company of brain-dead bums living in a stinky trailer, stealing, engaging in other criminal activities, lying, using their kids for financial gain, losing their kids, blaming the whole world, pretending to be normal, physically and mentally deteriorating into the abyss of the worst “human existence” possible.
I saw a newly found friend of mine all weirded out after 4 years in rehab. She was saved from the “thing”, which is great, but turned into a Christian with glassy eyes who couldn’t have a cup of strong coffee with me due to the fear of relapse.
I saw my loved one struggling, fearing, getting paranoid, lying, hiding, and even taking ITS side when it came to trying to fight this thing off. And I know what I saw, I am no lunatic. When the person lets it in, there is something else taking over the body and the brain, and this something is a conscious entity far beyond human perception and understanding.
HEY, WE WERE STRONG ENOUGH.
He made progress that I didn’t even hope for. After many years of heavy dependency, it took about 1.5 years to become clean. He says he did it for me, but I know that no one does it for someone else in the end. That means my man has some willpower. He is a true warrior, and if he achieved this, NOTHING is impossible.
During our struggles I let this thing in too, several times. A mistake, you think? No. I don’t regret. I had to know what it was which was holding him so, standing between us, and making him hide, suspect, and lie.
I hated it. Maybe not in the first couple of hours, but afterwards. It wasn’t just the stinky sweat that made thick layers of my blankets soaked. It wasn’t the darkness, emptiness, tiredness, or the gray, lifeless face looking at me from the mirror 3 or 4 sleepless nights later. It wasn’t my clenching fingers and jaws or the eyes that couldn’t close and stared, stared, stared at everything non-stop. I could live with all that no problem. It was my chest and my heart — the constant heavy pounding of my heart. I felt like I was going to die.
The pounding in my chest scared the shit out of me. It was my feeling of self-preservation screaming at me to stop. I had panic attacks where I was forced to breathe counting the seconds… and hold my breath… and massage my neck… Afterwards, I would spend hours researching anxiety and the ways to help oneself at the onset of another episode. I had to listen to YouTubers speaking to me from the phone screen saying things like “I am safe. This will pass. I can breathe. I am okay. I take another breath. And another. Count to five. I am okay. I will not die.”
If it wasn’t for the heart, I would never take this as a threat serious enough. The heart pounding in unison with the perceived lack of air made me so aware of my own mortality that even imagining repeating the experience many days and weeks after made me terrified. I’d start having tachycardia just thinking of the thing.
And yet here is it, in my dream. And it’s not the first time. In my dreams it always looks dreadfully safe and inviting. Everything that happens in that alternative world is slightly different, and suddenly the scariest thing I have come across becomes helpful, friendly, and not at all serious. It takes on the same presence as a daily cup of coffee or an occasional tobacco cigarette — what could be less threatening?
The fact that my parents (my clean, rather conservative parents!) were involved in the dream tells you the whole scope of its attempted influence.
To those who have never touched anything remotely as poisonous and serious I can say this: ONE time is enough for it to occupy a certain space in the mind if not forever, then for a long time. You can silence it, forget about it, and never touch it again, but once you know it even ONCE, it is something that kind of lingers in the depths of the brain and consciousness like a ghost.
You have to know who you are, what you want, and where you are going. You have to know and DECIDE not to give in to parasitic entities. Even the ones that can offer things and present themselves as helpful and attractive.
Funny enough, I am now in the process of quitting wine. Not nearly as scary or serious as the thing I described here, but oh boy, alcohol is a tricky one as well. If you drink one glass of wine every evening, you are officially an alcoholic, did you know that? Beer too. Hard liquor, definitely.
People take it lightly because it’s widespread and legal. It doesn’t have nearly as big of a stigma as the dark demonic shit that follows me occasionally in my dreams. Don’t be fooled. Alcohol is no joke. Even that one glass of wine at dinner.
I have a mind full of contradictions. While writing this, I am remembering that I haven’t yet tried the real absinthe. I’d have to order one from Europe since the U.S. has banned the “real thing”, funny enough. This country has the tendency to ban all kinds of stuff while allowing literal poisons to be sold on every shelf of every common supermarket.
Anyways… yeah, the time will come to try that mysterious green fairy drink of poets, artists, and general weirdos. But that has to be a one-time thing, not something you indulge in every day.
Maybe that’s one of the keys. Everything has its time and everyone should have the will and the strong mind to know when that time is, and when it’s over.
