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
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.
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.
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…
I really identified with this book when I had a dark experience with someone who was quite abusive and difficult to deal with. I am sure everyone has had similar situations. But I found this book quite interesting and very much like the blog and some of the posts. I thought it would be useful to share it here.
Check out the link below…
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.