Let’s Talk About Drugs

Hallucinogens. There’s a segment on NPR right now about people that are talking about how drugs like ayahuasca, mushrooms, MDMA, and other such things. I’ve done a lot of them. I think the only two I haven’t done are peyote and mescaline, mostly due to my inability to get a hold of them. But many people are talking about these profound experiences that have changed their life. While I can attribute some minute changes to the help of some hallucinogens, I’m not sure if I can say that I’ve had such a profound experience as these other people have. Am I simply diminishing my experiences? 
I’m not sure because just about every time after I had gotten off of a trip, I attributed everything that I had learned to the synapses in my brain and the flowing of chemicals through them to make such assumptions about myself. That it wasn’t real. That none of it was real because of the drug itself, so I shouldn’t take it seriously. I even did this when I went down to South America for my ayahuasca trip, hoping I could find some way to… maybe escape this oppressive reality where I believe nothing. This narrow-minded view that if I have some sort of experience while on one of these drugs, those changes can’t survive because they are not real. They are based in another realm that cannot be brought into the real world. This real world. The world that I live in day in and day out that is not magical, that is not wondrous, that’s just dirty and full of people that will not wake up. If these people cannot see it, then perhaps none of what I experienced is valid. 
I have bonded with those that I did a lot of MDMA with. I have never felt connected with other people until I take that tab…. And all the time I feel beyond disconnected; I’ve already explained that I don’t belong in this world or else I would have found a place for me. That isolation makes anyone lonelier beyond reason. But this is me on a daily basis. Especially now that I removed myself from everything I have ever known to seek something of myself that I don’t even know is there. And now I’m starting to doubt my decision of ever having left my previous state. Yet, what was I supposed to do? I had no place to live, no substantially paying job…. I had nothing to keep me there. My business had gone defunct, I had no real source of income and no way to keep up with my bills. And without the prospect of another job, I felt like I really had no choice. 

And I keep forcing myself back on the marketing path, and my five-year-old self if throwing a temper tantrum, screaming all that they wanna do is something else besides this. And that makes it extremely hard to get motivated to do anything regarding the profession I thought was most convenient and easy. Of course, I don’t find it fulfilling. I’m essentially lying for other people and getting paid for it. At least for some of these huge corporations that are getting rich off my efforts. And these little guys… I don’t know what to do. I can’t seem to find my edge. I can’t seem to even get myself motivated to help them out to get them in front of more people. But then again, if I think their business is stupid, but I take it anyways, it’s even harder to get myself to join up the cause. I just can’t do it. I write it off and wonder what I’m doing here if — for example — all that it is simply a way to rub the egos of everyone I resent in the city. I don’t want to help you, but I need the money. I feel like that’s the war cry of the current generation: “I don’t want to do this, but I need the money.” 

I can hear the self-righteous cries of the working professionals out there right now: “I can do it even though I hate it!” “I work harder than anyone else despite my hating other people!” “I can put that aside for money!” “We all hate our jobs. Suck it up, weakling hippie.” 

So what have these hallucinogens given me in order to deal with the world around me? Nothing really. If anything, it has made it abundantly clear how the world works. And what little I can do to stop it or change it besides what I can change in myself. But again, this goes with the question of what I have to contribute to society itself: how can I ensure that people survive somehow in this world until our timely death whenever that may be? 
They have barred whatever ego I had, and brought disbelief to everything around me, that everything I know is true. Everything I know is a lie. That’s what it has taught me, and I don’t know what to do with that information. It has given me unsteady ground as I remind myself of this every day, doubting everything I experience. What does it all mean, really? What am I to make of this when I know that what I’m feeling isn’t something “spiritual” but just an exchange of chemicals in my brain to make me feel like there is something mystical going on. I have tried time and time again to alter my consciousness to understand the world but I only end up with… more questions. Fewer answers. Disappointment. I can’t trust myself with any messages I receive because how do I know it’s true? How do I know it’s not being colored by some bias, prejudice, something to taint the message I receive. It’s because I break promises to myself all the time. I say we’re going to do something and it never happens. I make promises to others all the time and follow through, but I can’t keep the ones to myself. Apart from the promise of not being afraid anymore… I’m not sure how to increase trust in self. I’m trying to listen, but all I hear are the doubts in my mind of wondering where that message came from. Is it me? Is it somewhere else? Is it someone else? 
Maybe my path with hallucinogens hasn’t been a good one because of the bipolar disorder I have been recently diagnosed with. Maybe that’s why all these people with the one depression, anxiety, PTSD, and others like those retain results from this… while I seem to just slide around, wondering where I am and how I got here. But more importantly, how do I move forward without simply wanting to jump off a bridge? 

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