Posted in Late Night Thoughts, psychology

The Philosophy of Altered States

I’d like to talk about altered states. This includes but is not limited to the resulting mind state of those in psychosis, those who are both recreational and addicted drug users, and the natural state of mood changes. Most specifically, we’ll talk about why the want to alter our state of mind is regarded as dangerous and undesirable.

First, I’ll start off with a story: before the pandemic, I injured my back running on a treadmill.

I have a short leg and a displaced hip, so it’s not that I don’t know how a treadmill works, it’s that my body is broken.

I was prescribed Valium and Percocet. The Valium did wonders for my anxiety, especially when it came to speaking in front of panels, but the Percocet did something more. The Percocet gave me unbridled, unregulated, inorganic happiness, something I could never have without the pill itself. It made me sociable, bubbly, understanding, empathetic. It gave me confidence. It made me feel more human than I’ve ever felt.

And so the other day, while watching a terrible talk show yap about a heroin user, I started yearning for what I’d lost: that inorganic happiness. I found my mind racing, focused on pulling any old name from the archives of people I know, so I could ask them if they knew anyone selling Percocet. Once I realized I was frothing at the mouth at work like some sort of tortured, rabid dog, I stopped and pondered.

What was it about inorganic happiness that made me froth at the mouth? And, more importantly, why was I judging this feeling? Why did I label it bad?

Let me explain.

If you are feeling sad, you want to stop feeling sad. When you can’t stop feeling sad by simply telling yourself to stop feeling sad, you start feeling bad because you can’t stop feeling sad. You fall into a circle of sadness, until something–maybe a hot cup of tea or a friend or a therapist–triggers some thought that triggers some chemical that triggers some electricity that triggers another thought that eventually triggers your sadness to alter itself. You feel okay again.

So, what happens when you feel okay and wish to alter that state? What if we held each emotion to the same standard?

If I feel okay, or I feel happy, and I wish to feel more okay, or more happy, is there a moral, universal law that stops me from making that a reality?

The answer is no.

Now, we all know the consequences of going off our meds suddenly and without proper care (I frequently did that in my earlier psychosis years) and we all know the consequences of long-term, heavy, drug use, including regular, doctor-prescribed medication. So, if you’d like, you can think of that as the only hiccup here: there are physical and mental and life-changing consequences for our actions.

But why is happiness the only acceptable emotion to have? Why do we strive simply for that? Why don’t we focus on respecting our sadness, our anger? Why was my first inclination to seek a stronger happiness than I already have? Why do I want to resort to inorganic happiness?

I’ve asked a lot of questions here with no answers because I really want you to think about this. I really want you to ponder why do we put happiness on a pedestal? Why aren’t we allowed to feel other feelings in the same way we feel happiness? And is that why we constantly want to change our state of being? Because happiness is the only socially acceptable form of emotion?

Think about it.

Any thoughts in the comments are always appreciated.

Until next time.

Don’t forget to hit that follow button and join me on Instagram @alilivesagain.

Posted in Freedom, psychology

The Human Question

I’ve been absent because the pain of sitting with this back injury was too great. I wish I would have injured my back before I started this blog; not writing for days isn’t the proper way to re-build a blog. I know at least that much.

In the midst of all this pain, I’ve been challenged philosophically once more. That seems to happen a lot. You think our minds gets off on presenting existential issues with every little aspect of life?

My drug record is as follows: Marijuana. Psychiatric cocktails.

Marijuana made me feel normal in high school. I stopped when I started college and psychiatric medication. Then 7 years on and off of those medications. Antipsychotics dull your mind, but I wouldn’t call it a high. Benzos knocked me out a couple times. But I’ve never experienced the bliss that is an opioid-based medication.

This medication (which only cost me two dollars compared to the 40 I used to pay for my psych meds each month–there’s your opiate crisis plain and simple) was prescribed strictly for that insurmountable pain I mentioned earlier. I couldn’t sit, I couldn’t lay down, I couldn’t walk. I also couldn’t give up going to class and work during recovery, and so the pain med and the valium came into play.

Valium is shit, in my opinion. I don’t like that the halflife is up to 72 hours, which can make your body very dependent very quickly if you’re taking it regularly. It was prescribed for muscle spams, which have been plaguing my entire body since the back injury.

The issue I’ve had isn’t with addiction. I’m not crushing the pain med and snorting it. I’m not injecting it, I’m not smoking it. I like the feeling, I enjoyed floating while in class, and in that high I realized how much I missed feeling THIS kind of disconnected. A happy disconnection. And then I wondered if it was really the disconnection I missed. That just didn’t feel right; I’m always disconnected in some way, and often that’s how I make it through my day.

It’s the sense of altering my mind state which I missed. That felt right, until it didn’t. This year has been the happiest year of my life; I’ve lost all the weight I gained from my depression, I’ve stayed off all psychiatric medication, including anti-psychotics, I’ve got friends, I’ve been more open with people. I’ve enjoyed work. I bought a 2019 car. I’m successfully completing the research course which I kept dropping because of psychosis and depression. I’m writing again, submitting fiction again, starting this blog, finished a manuscript draft. I feel mentally and physically back on track. So what is making me want to change this?

I don’t have an answer.

I can look at human behavior and make some guesses, though.

Some of us want to alter our state more than others. For me, it’s not about running from feeling anymore. Now it’s about boredom, it’s about routine, it’s about doing the same thing over and over again and being content, but wanting something more. And I think that’s something everyone can relate to: wanting something more.

People say if you’re satisfied where you are, content with yourself, you won’t want anything more because you have everything you need. Perhaps it’s the ideal case. It just doesn’t seem practical though.

Or, maybe I’m not as happy as I think I am. In that case, what aren’t I happy about? Maybe those who indulge in recreational drugs also aren’t as happy as they think they are. In that case, maybe no one is ever certain about how they’re actually feeling. Freaky.

Maybe the feeling of a new experience is exciting, maybe the devil hooked a Twinkie on his fishing line and we’re all chasing it into hell.

Maybe we convince ourselves of one thing to justify what we know isn’t true. For example, I enjoy the body high. I’m always so tense from anxiety, have been all my life. Marijuana could never take it away, and neither could psychiatric meds. But the pain meds can. And so maybe I’m saying I’m not trying to subdue my feelings or run away from something so I can justify continuing to use them even though I’ve finally made it past the most severe pain.

Seeing as that’s highly likely, although my mind is pushing hundreds of reasons why I shouldn’t admit to that truth, the question then becomes: is enjoying something like a high wrong?

Most people would say yes, if it interferes with your life. If it becomes an addiction and reduces your level of functioning (i.e, using the language we hear all the time in mental health). I would say that wouldn’t make it wrong. It would make it pointless. And pointless isn’t always wrong.

Other people may say yes, it’s wrong, because you’re avoiding life. You can’t cheat like that.

Then people go off on tangents of addiction, of blaming you for “putting your family through this”–similar to shaming you for considering suicide. Then they talk about death–you’ll kill yourself. You can see my analysis on THAT argument here.

I don’t quite know what the point of this post is anymore.

To indulge or not to indulge, that is the human question.