Discards wrote:
Certainly. I am feeling poetic. I will try to give you a good account.
I believe Granth's "friend" knows what the ringer is. Any time you speak of "the grip of the ego" - and not in the sense of egoistic pleaures - but rather the "magnet tar pit trap" to quote Kurt Cobain if you please - he or she has gone through the ringer.
It comes without warning. It is a sickness in the head. It is an evil thing. It is a thickening of the mind. It is a stool of the mind. It is a crusted evilness of the mind that thickens under its own delusions until a lock is in place. And then, you remain like this. As Granth mentioned the desire to undue the evilness that has invaded our head is like - please! Oh God please - make this go away - please. Certainly because the onset of the ringer has a vivid encompassing. It folds, envelops, and saturates the mind with its power. And there is no undoing. Only a holy man could quickly undo this thing. Still with me Granth? Theophane?
The origins are easy to see. One embarks on that hopeless abyss - the languish of coming into adult hood. Various degrees of this languish exist - ranging from mild and reoccurring to severe and relentless. The more severe the "soul crushing" meaningless-ness of that period - the more tragic the delusion invented to overcome the "inconsistency" of existence. I, for instance, had to invent God to cope with what I faced. Now that became a potent delusion when that empty existence of mine extended beyond me into the control of the pantheistic God I had invented.
The nature of the delusion that ultimately enfolds the brain into a somatic daycare of unrelenting static horror (from which no release appears) will vary. I call some "three monthers". They hide the constipation of their mind from their families and friends. Their grip is tactile - there, in a way the person wishes it wasn't. Some smoke weed. The weed temporarily releases the grip. It loosens ones thoughts so that the mind can breathe. Oh ---- the "breathing" of the mind. So sick it becomes. Ultimately drugs are not a cure. The packaging returns until the delusions let go of themselves by them selves.
Consciousness binds upon itself - not according to a style of delusion - but simply as a rule. Hence Buddhists call freedom "Unbinding". The three monther has his epiphany - after three months. Euphoria follows. Spiritual lightness, "thank God!" Oh my Lord - you say. "I never thought..." And life goes on.
Familiar?
Don't tell the kids. Let us speak in code - as it were. I am a "four yearer". Four years. Tighter. A "deeper" problem. A turning of the pickle jar so tight; the jar itself does not know any longer how hard the lid is screwed on. "Hard" - but not there. Opaque - but nowhere. In the centre - and so on.
Bragging rights. Four years in the ringer. Coming out was unbelievable. It took one day for the loops - the "worms" - the thoughts - to "flow" again. Two years of unparalleled spiritual consciousness. I stalled Autumn. The trees, I embued them with holy light from my bones and the leaves refused to die. But just in my town.
There are pictures of me from this time. My aura has the extension of a football field (in all directions). I would focus this on people and liberated those who I watched. People did not know, but that town was mine for a summer. I was at the guard of all the commotion - all the commune.
Final gnosis came when I lost trace of consciousness. In as much as it binds - it releases. And when it releases completely - there IS no higher gnosis.
Incidentally, that is why I know "Existentiam numen Dominus."
I must say, Discards, this post is without doubt one of the most arrogant, condescending and contemptuous posts I've ever read. And that is a noteworthy accomplishment. It takes a certain indelicate approach that requires some amount of skill.
Yet, the most triumphant note of your post was probably unintentional. The great satirists, like Erasmus, Sir Thomas More, and George Bernard Shaw intentionally used absurdity with immense skill, however I'm quite sure the message you were trying to convey lacked the same intent as those respective authors. You came somewhat close with the statement, "Final gnosis came when I lost trace of consciousness", but again, different intent.
To be blunt, your portrayal of those who suffer from severe depression could almost be interpreted as farcical, if it wasn't for the tragic nature of suffering, which you accompanied with your own epic, but completely self-aggrandising tale of your spiritual awakening after "four years being in the ringer". I'm glad that you're no longer depressed, yet your disdain for those who haven't reached such spiritual heights is quite cloying.
Oh, and I don't think the brilliant Voltaire would've minded the remarkable similarities between your statement, "I, for instance, had to invent God to cope with what I faced", and one of his most recognised quotes, "If there were no God, it would have been necessary to invent him".
Because, in his words: "Originality is nothing but judicious imitation. The most original writers borrowed one from another."
Discards wrote:I suppose the "problem" that arises from the anxiety associated with annihilation is purely a matter of perspective. One can be utterly compounded into solipsism and universal consciousness at once. The unification of all being destroyed in the perceived notion of one being is the weight of the world. The problem with annihilation anxiety is to have this weight of the world on top of you - when in fact we all carry it. Nonetheless the utter destruction of it among all citizens of humanity, ontology, and thereabouts is a potentiality. Terror describes the feeling that goes with annihilation anxiety. It is purely conceptual.
So, if I may be so bold to summarise this paragraph: Those with suicidal thoughts/ideations feel terrified, and have some twisted arrogant presumption that life is more difficult for them, when it really isn't, because life is hard for everyone.
Despite your cautious use of quotation marks around the word "problem", your first sentence is spot-on if you eradicate, "from the anxiety associated with annihilation", and state that the problem that arises is purely a matter of perspective. Your perspective sees a problem within the suicidal individual that can simply be overcome after either three months of some form of self-medication followed by the epiphany that "life goes on", or (for those that haven't had that "Eureka" moment over a longer period, let's say four years) by a letting-go of consciousness that is followed by a life-changing spiritual enlightenment which is so utterly profound that the individual becomes saturated in a pure blanket of egotistical fortitude, which doesn't necessarily entail "egoistic pleasures", but does seem to ensure permanent self-satisfaction.
Discards wrote:So the mind does the only thing it is capable of in order to make amends with the world it is set to destroy. It eliminates the ability to conceptualize. As the brain is the centre for conceptualization, a physiological occurance accompanies a mental occurance in the process of responding to the lack of existence faced as a potential in the hybrid being of the forsaken messiah to be.
The mind controls itself. It clamps down on itself. Somewhere between physical presence and conceptual thought a clamp is placed inside the mind. Depending on the severity of one's dilemma, the clamp is stronger or weaker. In my case it was stronger because, for whatever reason, I was destined to carry the weight of the world for a longer period - compared to the average person. Are we talking about the same thing?
I must say, I certainly didn't see that "forsaken messiah to be" line coming, but I found it quite apt when you read on and find, "for whatever reason, I was destined to carry the weight of the world for a longer period - compared to the average person". One could interpret these processes that bring about the "strong clamp" that the mind uses as "control" when it loses "the ability to conceptualise" result in one's ultimate self-conception becoming "messianic", which is why they believe they are "destined to carry the weight of the world" longer than a normal person.
So far, my "clamp" is proving to be strong, possibly because I had it custom-made by one of the world's finest engineers, so it seems I too am carrying the weight of the world longer than a normal person. I'm glad I invested so much money in that "clamp", because I was having suicidal thoughts/ideations at age 12. It just goes to show that you get what you pay for.
In my opinion, those who commit suicide are the only one's who have truly experienced hopelessness. Every living organism's most basic instinct is to survive, and most will fight until death to try to survive. When a person is suffering that much pain that sees them discard this most primal and fundamental instinct, under their own agency, then I personally don't believe that suicide is immoral or in any way unjustifiable. Sometimes the argument that suicide is selfish arises, when it comes to those left behind, but I feel that any person that would rather their loved one stay alive in the excruciating torment they suffer, is more selfish. In terms of morality, this is an individual matter, in my opinion.
I unfortunately have too much experience with this tragedy. I also believe that one's moral issues with suicide change when they have experienced it in their life.
Sadly, Australian laws held, up until the 1960's I believe, that attempted suicide was a criminal act. Prosecuted if you survive an attempt at suicide, but free from the law if you succeed.
I'll end with Shakespeare's
Hamlet: "Oh, that this too, too sullied flesh would melt, Thaw, and resolve itself into a dew, Or that the Everlasting had not fixed His canon 'gainst self-slaughter!" -- Hamlet, from
Hamlet, Act I, Scene 2, Lines 129-132.
"We should all be obliged to appear before a board every five years and justify our existence... on pain of liquidation." -- George Bernard Shaw
I do not need to justify myself to anyone. My choices are my own responsibility. If I suicide you are quite welcome to argue over the carcass.
