The Singularity

I recently read an article talking about famous artists, thinkers, philosophers, and the like, and how many of them loved to take long walks. Aristotle, Muir, Wordsworth, Thoreau, and more. It's been said that Charles Dickens used to walk 20-30 miles a day. While I walk anywhere from 5-11 miles a day, I don't think I could walk 30! Anyways, I was out on my daily walk yesterday when my mind wandered back to something that's crossed it before- the singularity. I'd planned on writing my last bit about my Oregon vacation, but I'll save that for later. I want to talk about the singularity today while thoughts from yesterday are still in the back of my mind.

I was well into my 3rd mile yesterday, when a seemingly innocuous pop song came on. It was "Talking Body" by Tove Lo. For whatever reason, the lyric "On and on. On and on and on" sent a jolt through my body. I've become really attuned to these blips of anxiety as they hit me, so I zeroed in on the feeling right away and began to think about it.

One of the first most intense emotions I remember feeling, even as a little girl, is a feeling that I can't even put words to. It's a feeling of pressure; unrelenting, unabated pressure. It's the feeling that this feeling would never end. By feeling, I guess I mean the pressure. I think I was so young at the time, I did't know what emotion I was feeling. Perhaps fear? Unrelenting fear. The most disturbing part of remembering this emotion is the feeling that it will literally never end. I can put more feelings with this emotion, including feeling so paralyzed I can't open my mouth to make a sound, and something so heavy sitting on my chest that I feel like I'm being smothered. My breathing becomes shallow because I feel like I can't breathe. I'm not sure what the "memory" is that is associated with this "emotion" but this same feeling reoccurs sometimes during Ambien dreams or night terrors. On and on. On and on and on, is how the feeling felt. Never ending.

The girl who grew up with all these feelings and emotions felt lost. Unhappy, fearful, and with an anxious tummy most of the time. That girl soothed herself with make-believe Barbie games, hoards of library books, and her favorite foods. When she turned 12 and the boys took notice, she soothed herself that way. And when she was 16, she discovered alcohol. Then marijuana. Then over-the-counter sleeping pills. Then cigarettes. Sex. Shopping. Anything to fill that void.

What is the attractiveness of all these substances? They numbed the girl. They made her feel like a different person, a happy person whose body actually felt good. For a couple of blissful hours, that skin-crawling anxiety that makes one want to rip their face off would be gone. She would be free. She could laugh and talk to strangers. She could flirt with the cute boy and put her hand upon his arm. She could, for 2 seconds, not think about whatever it is that is inside her that makes her want to end it all.

And what is it? It screams at the girl every single day, telling her she cannot go on even one more second, that it demands something. Because it is never satisfied. It is a pit that will never be filled. It is a black hole within the girl that only seems to get bigger with age. She dances around the event horizon, never getting close enough to reach the point of no return. Coming close, yes, but never fully engulfed by the darkness. She has never tried cocaine or heroin, lost all of her family and support, spent all her money on drugs, and been forced into rehab. She has never cheated on her husband, forcing him to divorce and leave her. She has never had a mental breakdown, forcing her into a pysch eval at a mental institution. Because she dances. She flirts, but she does not fall.

It tells the girl that it will get her someday. Someday, when her guard is down and she's had too many drinks or drugs, it will eviscerate her. It will put temptation in her way that it knows she will not have to will power to deny. Because she is weak. She is bad. She has no self-control. The singularity will find a way to show the world that.

And then, it will win.

Because that's what it wants. Ultimately, it wants the girl to have nothing and no one left so it can end it all.

I call "it" my Dark Passenger. That ol' Dexter reference again. I fight "it" everyday. When I have dark thoughts, I realize it's because I feel like I'm going to be doing battle every single day for the rest of my life. And that in itself is what's unbearable. I picture how utterly long 30 to 40 years could be, and I picture feeling the way I feel every. single. day. It's a scary thought. It makes me wonder if that's why some people actually go through with suicide. Because they can't image having to feel what they are feeling for the rest of their lives.

Does everyone have a singularity? A portion of themselves that's so dark that no light can escape from it? A portion so dark you can't gaze upon it and see anything at all? In my (non-scientific) opinion,  it's the singularity that drives addiction. How? The singularity causes a person to feel a certain way. If that person happens to try drugs or alcohol, they are going to discover that these things make them feel better. This will lead to the person seeking them out more and more often, until eventually they become an uncontrollable force in their lives. A person without a singularity isn't going to find the same "relief" that a person with a singularity does and therefore, they aren't likely to seek it out as much. Can't you see this is why some people who try drugs do not become addicts?

It's this belief that led me to follow Amber Lyon and her website Reset.Me. I've been looking into medicines like psilocybin, ayahuasca, and Ibogaine. Numerous studies are showing that these medicines are having a great effect on depression, anxiety, PTSD, and addiction. I'm really beginning to think that in order to feel better, in order to destroy that part of me that says "I WANT I WANT I WANT", I'm going to have to get rid of the black hole. As of right now, I don't know what the answer is. I feel stuck. I'm making progress in therapy, but it's frustrating because I know the Dark Passenger is still there. It still beckons and calls every day. It wants me to drink vodka everyday. It wants me to smoke cigarettes everyday. It wishes it could get its hands on some Xanex, Vicodin, or Percocet. Some days I do great ignoring the requests of the singularity. Other days are an abject failure. I don't feel like I'm getting the bottom of things. I don't know where the bottom is. I don't know what caused the singularity or what traumatic memories linger that makes it remain. All I do know is that the research being done on medicines like psilocybin, ayahuasca, or Iboga are finding that they may actually repair neural pathways. Pathways that may have been decimated by trauma.

Could this be the answer to the singularity? A destroyed neural pathway that could possibly be repaired?

It's a tantalizing thought.