Tell me about how I think too much.

[butterflydreaming]

12,157 / 50,000 (24.3%)

I'm definitely not done for the day. I think I may have moved into the "acceptance" part of NaNo.


A few things have happened over the last few days that have me contemplating. It is said that if you question your sanity, then you must certainly be sane. Well, then -- I must certainly be sane.

I have a terrible memory -- I mean, awful. People often tell me that I've done things for which I have no recollection. Sometimes, it just takes a while, and the little pieces start to coagulate into something like recall. But sometimes, there is nothing there. So I joke that maybe I'm having fugue states and lost time because I'm actually MPD (multiple personality). Why not, hey? I wouldn't be half surprized to find out that it was true.

I think that the truth is just that I have very abnormal (but what is normal) brain chemicals, and so depending on the flux of things, memories don't get all stored in the same format. I'll trot out that Morisey concert, again, the one that I simply can't remember, despite assurances that I did go, and *almost* remembering some of the things that happened afterward. I've been depressed so much of my life, such as during that time, that the events have a different chemical compostition.

I've always been a serious daydreamer. I can't tell you where I go, but I'm assuredly elsewhere. My family, my sisters specifically, always made fun of it, but it aggravated them. "What are you thinking about?" they would ask. "I don't know," I'd say. "I was just thinking."

And I have these... well, terrifying things that I call "reality moments", which are a sort of hyper-awarness of my mortality, and of being alive, and of being in-the-moment. Most of the time, I intellectualize the realization that I was once a child, that I will one day be old, that this is being alive and that death will happen. That's how people cope, I think. You can't be too aware of those things; if they have a physical sensation, it becomes overwhelming. Well, I hadn't had one of those episodes in, I think, years, until just a day ago. And it was a long one.

By now, you either think that I seriously need professional help, or you are possibly thinking, Oh my God, that's me too.

Wouldn't it be supremely funny if I actually was functionally insane? The "butterfly, dreaming" thing isn't just a poetic metaphor.

"If the brain was simple to understand, we would be too simple to understand it."

Contemplating one's own consciousness is like biting your own tail. Perception of reality vs. reality -- that's why we put those things into story. It needs distance. Shrodenger's cat. (I'm not sure about that spelling, just now.) And quantum physics, which is like sorcery to me. At some point, you just have to decide on your own beliefs and make up your own faith.

The saddest thing in Creation would be to discover that the one you love does not exist.