Finally more about the ayahuasca

This is an update of my ayahuasca experience.  To all of you who have been waiting for the last update and explanation: Life has become hectic and I have had a birthday, a new job, the flu and a computer breakdown, which led me to have a brief pause.  I hope to conclude tomorrow.  Thank you so much for following. 

So this was probably on Sunday the 23rd of January, and before I start I just want to say that I remember that on Saturday throughout the later afternoon, when I was sort of already coming out of the ayahuasca state, I hardly experienced any fluent visions but was still receiving information. Later on I felt quite dizzy – not really exactly out of it, but not having many visions or insights; just feeling like I was receiving some file downloads – and I remember that I realised at some point that the music being sung was really important. I really felt this

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My ayahuasca experience

The ayahuasca experience was a wonderful and blissful one.  I remember clearly that a very good friend had mentioned it to me. I thought at the time, since I had been trying different tools for mental health, that this would be something to go for.  There was also another factor here: my friend’s physical health had been low, so I kind of felt I should go for emotional support.

A week after the new year she reminded me again about it and I wasn’t as forthcoming about it has I had been initially.  This was purely because of the costs involved in taking it and also because it was unknown and so mysterious.  I have a phobia of retreats, I’d say, although I have never been to one.  I like my bed very much, and just having to spend time away from my son made me wonder if I should really go forward with it, as did the money to pay, which came up to about £350 with the flight.

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An idea…

Part of my journey so far has been this blog and initiating discussions on this topic.
Now I am in a most interesting part of my personal development journey which deals with anger. I started studying my anger: where did it come from? This has led me to learn about my family history and most importantly its links to slavery. I also realized that many of my ethnic group find themselves having similar relationships with anger and it has been passed down through generations. I believe this may be correlated with many of the social, psychological and economic effects slavery has left in our community.

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How people choose to relate…

After Christmas I was wondering what sort of stuff to write on the blog. You see, someone close to me gave me as a present a book entitled Blogging For Dummies, so I spent most of my time reading this and eating a lot. I really enjoyed Christmas; I still missed volunteering with the homeless, but I comforted myself with the hope that I will one day do that sort of thing with my son.

During the new year period I somehow kept on thinking about how people read one another. It’s a strange skill, but we are all able to read body language to a certain degree. I wonder if that is a tool I mean. For example, if my two-year-old has a cold then, truth be told, for an insomnia sufferer like myself this can be rather hellish; but he cannot yet imagine how it can for me. I hope one day he will. I will make sure he procreates. Well, if he has my genes he probably will. I know he will. Anyway, going back to sleepless, hellish nights, I usually try to think that there’s a rave in my mind: every time my sleep gets interrupted, I really try to think “Yeah, at the moment in the rave it’s great: the DJ is playing that tune,” although this works much better when you’re on the third night in a row of not sleeping. It really helps the adrenaline because by that point you get to a level of delirium which can be described as moments of laughter followed by deep, tearful sadness accompanied by a feeling of “I am not sure if I want to laugh or cry,” and at this point I laugh a lot. This always seems very funny at the time…

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Why I use tools…

I have to say that I found myself wondering how to start talking about the tools I have been learning to use. The coping tools I am referring to have always been around and we all use them some unconsciously to some degree. An example of this would be that we all have a coping or defence mechanism to deal with anything we cannot handle at the time.

I have mostly only used by necessity each tool I have used so far and have done this by making the conscious decision to deal with my problems rather than running away or pretending they aren’t happening; to deal with situations I consciously became aware of. I like to think of them in terms of taking responsibility.

Some tools for Christmas


This Christmas and every other similar time of the year I often volunteer with the homeless. I do this to remind myself of what is really important; mostly I like the fact that I get to feel useful. When you do this kind of volunteering it’s just you doing what you can to provide a service for others who failed to keep family ties going and adjust to social expectations in what we call civilization, civil life or society.

I never really felt I fitted in to that sort of thing. Around Christmas I get to do just that: enjoy time with other humans who don’t fit in. And I appreciate that time because I get to be me and deal with people who are somewhat similar.

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The tools I am talking about are all around us

The tools I’m talking about have been around since the beginning of humanity but we’ve somehow forgotten how to use them. So, when I was listening to these women talking about how they found a way to cope with their mental distress, I realized all the things they were talking about were all around me. When you’re in a dark place it’s not so easy to think about how you can use certain activities – maybe things you already do – as tools to cope with your mental distress.

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Writing about the dark shit

The first tool I became aware that I could use to deal with my mental health, which was pretty dark at the time, was writing about the dark shit I was feeling.  I was feeling like I was dead – a walking, talking zombie.  I felt like my insides were burnt.  For sure, I tried telling family, friends, my GP.  When I tried to tell my friends about the way I was feeling, no-one took seemed to take any notice or understand my articulations.  It felt like when you’re in a silent film and you talk and so on but nothing happens and things just continue to unfold, like A Nightmare On Elm Street.  So I carried on being a dead, walking, talking zombie on the inside, just like the ones we see in horror films.

Me and my lazy eye

  I have added many tools to my mind and my experience of using them has been an amazing development for me, especially knowing where I came from.  Just to give you an idea, my place of birth was in Luanda, Angola.  I’m one of eight children and was born with a lazy eye – it stopped developing.  My mother took the doctor’s advice to cover the eye I could see with in order to cure the lazy eye. This was common practice at the time, so I grew up mostly listening to the sounds of the TV and radio. You could say I had a somewhat distorted view of the world.

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