One of those four words doesn’t seem to fit it, doesn’t it?
Those three words are some of the most emotionally charged words for me. I understand ‘madness’ is one of the most disturbing things to witness from the outside, but I have endured something like it.
Warning: more disproving medical garbage because I have first hand experiences not listed on any symptom list.
This ‘madness’ is more for me, as I will never be able to express the feeling of possession over multiple dark nite-rites. It is days spent in a phantasm across two years so why should it haunt me so? The dark night in July 2020 I dashed my Berserk figurines against the floor, writhing as my body made me commit lewd acts.
The nights I thought I was dying in May 2021 as a shivering ethereal flame nibbled away at my flesh, licking the marrow of my bones. It wasn’t entirely unpleasant, but I was completely dizzily disoriented with what I was experiencing.
I can’t even word all the things I’ve experienced. Do you comprehend that agony, of your head being so overwhelmed you can’t share your stories?
…but despite all the freakish horror I’ve felt…
I’ve been able to laugh?
Why share these old May 2021 videos now? Because they are special and hit me in my guts. I was going through unreal stuff but was still capable of wording it in Instagram, using my voice when I never had it before. I hadn’t considered the fact that WordPress is decent with embedding these things.
These videos come across as extremely humorous to me, due to my vocal qualities expressing an honest dazed sleep deprived delirium. They may not have that affect on everyone else, but I think I do a decent job of expressing candid moments of bedridden paralysis.
Why is laughter so important in the face of PTSD from these strange experiences? Because that is the essence of Pinkie Pie. The jester. Eternal entertainer. Frolicking fairy king under the pale blue moonlight, serenaded by the spirits in nature applauding their dance. (I dance a lot now) Despite how frightening, you can always Giggle at the Ghosties. The true, purest nature of the universe is love, kindness and laughter. That is what I have discovered.
That is God.
One below is fairly funny. I sound nasally and like I’m breathing into a pillow or something, which I was. I accepted, I was not psychotic. This is real. No doctors can tell me what I’ve felt. I would embrace it fully.
Why do I blog about these experiences? Why not talk about scrapbookin’, which I also partook in when in this dysfunctional ‘mad’ state. It simply comes down to….
I have experienced it.
I will go mad if I can’t express these experiences.
I’m going to leave you with a few more videos. Try and understand most of them were mere hours before I ran away from home, (48, 20, even down to under 6 I captured it) compelled to by ancient Neanderthal earth magik.
It began with me being righteously angry, feeling so stricken with emotions over feeling like people didn’t appreciate Miura. It started simple. I contemplated how he had helped me process witnessing the death of my mum.
In this one below, I was simply overwhelmed by realizing how much Berserk paralleled what I’d experienced. Oh yeah you’re just a narcissistic nerd. No, there is a subconscious strength in this work that guides people through darkness.
Its kinda funny when I say ‘it’s notta buncha meems u guys‘ paired with my tears.
Below I started to remember PTSD around the visions I saw when psychotic. Basically the equivalent of
Guts watching Femto and Casca um…..you get what scene I mean. That is soul crushing. I was told nonchalantly, ‘you like scary things so of course it was scary.’
What I describe as the ‘self compassion flooding over me’, was supernatural. It wasn’t just emotions, but I didn’t know what I was going through.
So I asked for filth and fear? That I asked for the most despicable visions known to man, things that put Freudian theories to shame?
No, and you are evil if you think that.
I started to remember the fantasy I had in 2020, of a utopian world where people felt this manic happiness and it wasn’t sick. Running around in the wide grasslands of my home state, sharing bounties of nature, a cult basically. Nobody would hurt or harm, I would make sure it would be that way, because the only way you could join the cult was to be ‘enlightened.’ Such is the glimmering fantasies my idealistic mind constructed.
Below my voice sounds exhausted, whispering and hushed as I clutched my phone and confessed into XRecorder. This was the day before I left home I think.
This is the last one I’ll leave you with. Yes funny manga man.
So these are just a handful of maybe around 20-something videos I had shared as 15-second long snips on Instagram. Really unsuitable, but hey I got it out there.
I scared away non-friends, I could see they wouldn’t sit through such disjointed rambling. Even if you can feel the pain and confusion in my voice, it wasn’t enough?
But they aren’t friends.
I confessed to someone that Berserk helped me through very supernatural experiences and could see the pitying sneer on their face. The scoff exuded on their stank breath.
Oh, that’s a normal reaction of course, because,…
It’s just a comic, right?
Still during both the peaks of ‘madness’ and even when it subsided, I laughed. I became Pinkie Pie. I faced the unknown in ways I can’t type here because I will frighten people. I faced it with a smile, laughing at Berserk memes I photoshopped, laughing at the hilarity of being alive.
To be a
witch is cackling at the absurdity of it all. That is why they laugh.
Because the thing I’ve learnt above all is…
Life is one big Berserk meme.