Blasterhare

I want to say that my severe disconnection from my reality began when I 
took LSD with some friends. I was a heavy drug-user. Ecstasy every weekend, sometimes more frequently. I’d smoke marijuana everyday and have the rare hit of acid whenever it came around.
     Well, my story begins. All was well in the city of Houston…couldn’t 
have been any better. I was hanging out with some friends when we decided we should get some acid. We took the acid and a few hours later when we reached another friends house, I began to feel unwanted, lost–like I was in a dream. It was all so sudden. I glanced at my friends and I felt like I wasn’t welcomed anymore. There was an immense paranoia present and I was very anxious. I began to cry, because all this time we’d spent together  suddenly meant nothing…it was all a joke. A prank for the entire world to 
laugh at, so it seemed. I left that night and never returned…
     A week had went by or so and I decided that it was all just a hallucination. I went to my friends house and there I was presented with a  frightening realization, when my friend said, “What happened? Did you forget you had friends?”–The beginning of my new reality. From then, I’ve always believed that I was the center of attention everywhere I went. Work, or more simply, outside to smoke a cigarette. My mind was destructive. Obliterating all friendships and seemingly damaging my home life. I realized I had changed, but I could never accept it. Probably because I didn’t want to 
believe that I could be altered by mind-altering drugs. Call it a big ego. 
Nothing was good and it seemed as though nothing would ever get better. I 
had held a few jobs for no longer than a few months, before my anxiety 
forced me to quit. I’d take what people would say out of context in an attempt to recreate myself. Let’s just say I was soul-searching. Any benign comment made, I could transform into something that pertained to me. As if the person were talking about me, or talking to me, but indirectly. As a consequence of my excessive self-importance, I began to consider myself insane. I’d research mental illnesses, diagnosing myself with any and 
everything. Not very wise, but, indeed helpful. I had stumbled upon 
depersonalization. In denial I felt my issues weren’t as severe as a personality disorder. Fortunately, it lead me to many self-help sites with great methods. The single most helpful website being a self-help plan for  people suffering with Obsessive Compulsive Disorder, which to me seems quite common nowadays. It gave me insight into the ability to refocus, and reattribute your own thoughts. For example: It stated when you begin to obsess over something, label it as a symptom of a disorder, refocus your attention and move on…to put simply. So, I tried it. I was very optimistic  and still am…just lazy is all. Haha! Well, turns out that the methods only work if you stick by them. Who would’ve thought?
      It was always nestled in the back of my mind that my problem was not 
mental, but spiritual. I began researching Buddhism and the concept of 
meditation. To no avail, I discontinued my practice. I downloaded countless 
amounts of self-help audio-books, in an attempt to improve my social skills, 
because I felt that maybe my problem was much smaller, therefore ridding me of my feelings of insanity. I began listening to people speak for themselves and not for me. I’ve always been a deep-thinker, so, of course I’d analyze communication and write down what I felt was useful. Slowly, peoples words began to pertain to themselves and no longer were they talking about me. Unless painfully obvious, of course. Jerks. I don’t think it was my understanding of communication techniques, more than me just paying attention and focusing to what was being said and how it was being said. I’d fail in understanding sometimes, or I revert to my ‘cry for help’ state-of-mind and I’d begin to think that my problem was my degree of intellect. I felt dumb. Which to me is still my greatest fear, isn’t it everyones? You can see how my problem becomes less severe as I continue my soul-search.
      So, the world keeps spinning. Recently, I had a thought that this was 
God’s Will. I heard somewhere that, “Sometimes we’ve got to lose ourselves, before we can find ourselves”. I understand that to mean that sometimes we’ve got to sacrifice, to become who we’re truly meant to be, through God’s Eyes. My father has been very helpful. He’s helped me to compartmentalize my thoughts, to make my goals more attainable and less spread out. He’s a military man and things have to be simple. Thank God, otherwise I’d still be scrambling to make a realization. My main thing has been remaining focused. Concentrating on what’s happening now and not what’s happened or might happen. I’ve quieted my mind–the destructive one. The one that connects those benign comments to something personal. And I feel for others now. I no longer lack empathy, for I am no longer the only one suffering.
      I’ve read a few stories of peoples disorder coming back, but I feel if 
I remained focused, if only for my personal benefit, that I’ll reach my 
goals. I’m starting college soon, which is going to be a huge shift from 
lying down all day, doing nothing. I’m ready for it, though. I’m due for a 
change of pace, anyway. Ahh! Happy endings are always refreshing. To those out there still suffering, I leave you this:

1. Think positive
2. Still your mind. and…
3. Be focused, but not alarmed

That is all and many thanks for reading.

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