“My Name is Chaos”; Chapter Twenty One, Part Two

I opened my eyes to see a beautiful apparition. A lovely woman stood beside Lucifer, robed in deep red. She had such a smile on.

“Amitabha,” said Lucifer as the goddess took me in her arms. I was nothing. Weightless. Just a little thought of existence.

The goddess nodded to Lucifer with a warm smile. Then, with respect and dignity, she turned around and walked through a small portal.

Most portals are crackling full of energy of the kind akin to the world they transfer to. This one was soft, and peaceful. As we slipped through it I felt blissful in a pure and healthy way. Calm. Complete.

We entered a world of light, lotuses by lakes, and sprawling fields. I knew the world as we stepped foot on the earth and she set me down. I floated from her. Stretching, I unfolded from myself.

All around me was beauty and peacce. It felt amazing.

I turned to thank Amitabha- and saw the portal behind her. A hand was clawing through, a shoulder following. It was like an awful anti-birth. It was forceful, disgusting, and burning with callous irreverence.

Bella burst through with a roaring yell, burnt and bloodied by the energy of the portal. Her blue eye sparkled rabidly and she stumbled on her first steps on the earth.

Amitabha turned calmly to face her. She did not seem in the slightest bit surprised. “So you are here.”

Bella laughed. “I’ve made it!” Her eyes rolled around her head to take it all in, but I knew she couldn’t see enough. Her breath was ragged from anger and exertion. She laughed again, and it was frenzied.

Amitabha was nonplussed. I looked from one to the other, and it dawned on me as Bella drew a sword from her hip that she’d lied to me about one more thing.

“I’m finally going to kill you all!” she hissed. Dramatically, she pointed her sword at Amitabha. “I, Daughter of Mara, will destroy you stupid Buddhas!”

Amitabha watched with serene disaffection. I stepped forward. “But Bella, you can’t-”

I knew this place was too peaceful. Too serene. Too precious to be allowed to be destroyed.

Bella knocked me aside. “I have defeated the supposed ‘god of gods’. I have Lucifer as my minion, and-” she flicked a sneering wrist at me. “I’ve tamed Chaos. So,” she took a deep breath then screamed to Amitabha “I’m going to kill you all!”

“No!” I said. “Bella, you said you wanted to save everyone! You can’t do that if-”

“Snapshot! I lied! Now move aside, or rather -” and Bella’s crazed gaze landed on me. “Help me, Chaos. Kill Amitabha for me.”


“Do it!” she screamed in my face. “Do it, and I will let you be my slave again! I will give you infinite pleasure, Chaos!”

Amitabha stepped forward. Serenely, she placed a hand on each our shoulders. She looked first at me, then at Bella. We both held our breaths.

With her exhale, a sense of peace infused through me. It soaked into me gently, destroying anger and hurt. I felt pure and true to myself. Connected to Amitabha, to Bella, to this land and all that dwelled in it-

With a groan Bella collapsed. Her sword fell to the ground. She clutched at her head, moaning. “It hurts, it hurts,” she whimpered.

Of course, I realized. The destruction of ignorance and anger can be painful.

“It hurts!” Bella screamed. She staggered up to her feet, fingers having dug red marks down her cheeks. Eyes rolling, she took one terrified look at Amitabha before lurching for the portal.

With a shriek, Bella fell into it as if all the hounds of hell were at her heels. Then there was silence.

For a moment, Amitabha and I stood still. The wind blew around us, the grass swayed. I felt at peace. My mind, my spirit, felt on the brink of achieving something new. Enlightenment was only a grasp away, and I felt it.

But when I looked down, there was Bella’s sword. I stooped down and picked it up.

“Pleasure is a blade,” said Amitabha clearly. “It is fleeting, yet leaves marks of desire upon the soul.”

I closed my eyes tightly. What did I want? Of course I wanted to stay here. But I also pitied Bella. She was pathetic, really. Lost. Helpless in her own way.

I opened my eyes, mind focused and clear. “I’m going to go get Bella,” I said to Amitabha. “I’m going to heal her.”

A pleased smile drew itself on her face. “To heal a demon and bring them to the Pure Lands is quite the challenge. Good luck, Chaos.”

I smiled. “Thanks.”

Amitabha reached into a pocket of her robe. “I have a gift for you. A welcoming of sorts.” And she held out a D20 dice to me. It rippled in swirls of red and gold. When it touched my palm I felt warmth within me, a little bit of Buddha-essence within myself.

As I held it up to the light, Amitabha spoke. “This dice is different from the one you had before. This one will not tell you whether you will defeat an enemy in battle, but your chances of healing their souls. Be prepared, your life is about to change.”

I smiled as I pocketed it. “Thank you.”

Amitabha bowed her head respectfully. “Best of luck. And beware of the sword you now carry with you. Pleasure is a double edged blade.”

I looked down at Bella’s sword. The weight of it was massive for its size. I felt it like a scorpion, deadly and latently poised to strike. To hold it was to perch on the edge of a blade. But I was ready to do just that.

So here I am, alive again. Not that I died. Rather, a part of me was gutted and taken away -metaphorically speaking.

Starlight, my pagan project, crumbled dramatically. Now, for all who were enthusiastic about it, read on to follow the thrilling end! For those who don’t care, skip this part.

Because what happened was that I asked for advice regarding Starlight on the last equinox. I received a dream that left me screaming myself awake, wherein I realized that those who I was leading the group  with were not in fact, following me. As I grappled with what that meant I had to do, I decided that it meant I had to do my own projects and follow my own path, and not those of others. So, I decided, I was going to do what I’d always wanted, and I was going to fully host all the events at my home. After all, that was part of the reason I moved where I did.

Well, the moment I made that decision I spoke to the other member who usually hosted. I told them of my dream, of my decision. They decided on the spot to not only quit from hosting, but to quit the group entirely, dismayed that I wasn’t catering to their needs as a stay at home single parent of two young children. Why, they had already said that it was easiest for them to host! They would have to get a babysitter otherwise?! How could I ask that of them?! (Keep in mind this member drives three hours away every weekend for an aromatherapy class and had no problem getting a babysitter for that, but for the holy days? Impossible!)

Well, so that was one member of my triad of administrators. When the other two found out (through me telling them) that I had made a decision off of a dream and, though I was willing to discuss it but was unlikely to be swayed, they threw basically a tantrum. They decided that I was a cult leader, that I wanted nothing but minions, and were dismayed I was making such an important decision based off of only a dream. They all quit.

So yes, that was the dramatic ending of my group. Two years of work, of trying to get people organized. But you know what? I’m glad it’s over. Because it was a ton of work and effort, and I was the only one who seemed to want to do anything but just get together and party (and occasionally get high). I felt like the only one who wanted to build a project, to gather ideas, and to help others out. Everyone else loved my ideas, loved participating and raising energy. But something was lacking in the organizational sense. And obviously, for them to have turned on me so quickly, something else was lacking. For all their love of me, they abandoned me the moment I made what they thought was a mistake. They scolded me, but instead of forgiving or trying to fix things (I have never run an organization before and openly admitted that the way I’d made my decision was maybe a blunder), they called me a cult leader and abandoned me.

Well, a microcosm is not a macrocosm, but I feel this says a lot about paganism. We want all the fun goodies, none of the responsibilities, and to do no work/structural work. We just want fun.

I feel like abandoning paganism as a social group, but my apprentice doesn’t want me to. They are adamant that I keep teaching, but I don’t feel like it. For what aim? What goal? What’s the point, when we can’t basically organize ourselves and get stuff done? And do I even want to be mixed in with people who treat me so badly? Because seriously, my local pagans seem to be a really unpleasant bunch.


“My Name is Chaos”: Chapter Four Part Two

“Hello, Chaos,” she whispered.

“Oh, shit,” I said as I stared at the spirit sitting in the back seat.

“Language, language,” whispered the being. “Children shouldn’t swear.”

“Fuck you!” I snapped without thinking. “What are you doing here?”

“Oh, well, you know,” the blob took on a haphazard shape. Now it had eyes and a mouth and was somewhat of a humanoid shape. “Someone’s gotta babysit.”

“I do not need babysitting!” I yelled.

The scientist looked to her, looked to me, and frowned. “What are you looking at?” he asked. “Is there something-” and he poked at her, going right through her.

Oh crap. She wasn’t incarnated. They couldn’t see her.

She grinned fiendishly at me. “Are you having a mental breakdown?”

Without thinking, I yelled back. “I’m not having a-” I stopped myself just in time. Glaring at her, I turned to Thor.

“There’s a demon in the back seat,” I announced dryly.

“Really?” Thor looked in the rearview mirror and frowned. “I’m not feeling it.”

“Me neither,” said the scientist in awe as he kept passing his hand through her. She kept grinning at me.

“Who is it?” asked Mark grimly. “A vampire hunter? Horseman of the apocalypse? Tell us.”

I groaned and slunk down in my chair. “It’s no one. Just a dumb, lower-level, obnoxious, demon.”

“Yeah, there’s a real dumb spirit around here,” she said loudly from the back. I wanted to plug my ears. Maybe if I ignored her she’d leave? Soon? What was she even doing here?

I threw myself around, making the scientist jump. But my glare was not for him. “How’d you get permission to come here? Huh?”

She grinned and kicked back in her seat, stretching tendril-like arms above her head. “Who said I had permission? You’re not the only rule breaker around here.”

“I have special permission!” I burst. “And I will send you back if- ”I held up my cross pendant. “Or I’ll tell my dad! And he’ll come and get you!”

She leaned forward, putting on a shrill childish voice. “Oh, I’ll tell daddy. Oh, I’m a little snitch and my name is Chaos.”

I just about turned purple in the face. I opened my mouth, but no sound came out. Her grin turned nasty. “Go on, call daddy. Do it.”

I thumped back into my chair, deciding to ignore her again. Whatever. Like I needed her approval.

My fingers traced the cross pendant against my chest. Should I? She wasn’t allowed to be here. What if she interfered? Would it be … bad? Or could I use this to my advantage?

Frowning, I focused on the road ahead. The pine trees lined ever on and the wind blew in icily.

“Hey Chaos!” she yelled in my ear.

I yelled, jumping three feet in the air. “What?” I yelled, turning to see her leaning up between Mark and me.

“I want a body,” she declared. “Get me a body.”

“I’m not getting you a body!” I snapped. “If you’d wanted one, you should have incarnated!”

“Too much paperwork,” she grunted. “Hey, is this guy really attached to himself?” And she poked at the scientist.

“He lives in there so I’d say yeah, pretty attached. And if you try possession, I Will report you!” I was protective of my little mission pals.

“Uhm,” Thor cleared his throat.

“Oh hey, he’s hot,” she said, leering around at him. “Tell him to pull the car over. I can take him over, then we can make out. Neat, right?”

“Shut up!” I squawked.

“What is going on?” asked Thor.

“What’s their name?” asked the scientist, scribbling away at their notepad.

My nerves were beginning to fray. “I want to drive!” she announced, jumping at Thor.

“No!” I yelled, trying to stop her. No luck. If I’d had rolled my dice on it, it would have been a critical 1. A complete failure.

I tackled Mark/Thor, grasping for the immaterial that could not be touched. Thor yelled, shoving me off him. The car skidded, then we must have hit a patch of ice because it really skidded.

“AHH!” I yelled as the ditch came zooming up towards us.


It was like landing on soft fluffy marshmallows. But at 100 kilometers an hour. So the ‘bwoof’ sent us all flying in all directions. The car keeled over to its side and I was now squished sideways with Thor half on me. There was a scientist’s leg in the air beside my head.

Great, bouncing, burgers.

“AL!” I shrieked, clawing my way up. I scrambled over Thor and pushed his door open. He shoved me and I made it out the door. “I’m going to kill you!” I yelled, stepping out into the crisp air.

A light drifting of snow was fluttering down. There was no noise now. Not a sound. I stood on the side of the car, breath misting before me as I glared out at the pine trees’ depths. Was she hiding in their branches? Or was she right beside me, invisible?

No warning. None at all! Just – CRA-KOOM! Lightning split the sky and struck the road where the car would have been, further down the road. Sparks flew. Smoke spiralled up.

Worse? There was now a dark figure there. The shape of a teen, wearing a long coat that framed their figure. Whisped in dark tendrils of smoke, it began striding forward down the road. Towards us.

“Who is that?” asked Thor, now by my side.

“It’s her,” I grumbled, gritting my teeth, hands balled into fists.

“The demon?” whispered the scientist, climbing up beside Thor.

A cloud drifted away from the moon, allowing light to beam down onto her in a most dramatic of ways.

She was as tall as me, but her hair was cut short around her chin with long bangs that fluttered about her face. Her hair was a deep blue with jet bright streaks in it. Her skin was dark, her face pretty nondescript, especially with those sporty sunglasses she had on. She was wearing a deep purple and pink trenchcoat with orange eagles on it. Oh, and she was had thick black leather boots.

“Hey Chaos,” she said as she stepped to the edge of the road before the car. There was a nasty grin on her face.

“Hey,” I seethed. “Do you have to ruin everything?”

“It’s my duty,” she drawled, running fingers through her hair dramatically.

“Who are you?” asked the scientist, sounding way too impressed for his own good.

She totally let it get to her head. As always. “My name is Al,” she drawled. “And I’m Chaos’ fiancee.”

A Small Ritual to Introduce Yourself to the Land when You Move

So I’ve recently moved. My landowner is a pagan (how lucky am I?) and we did a small ritual to introduce ourselves to the spirits and prepare for doing more rituals here. I’ve copied out what we did, in case it’s useful for anyone else.


Before you begin, pick a spot that’s central to the feel of the land. We did ours at  bench beneath a tree, so the spirits could assemble at the table. Bring your offerings and place them upon the table. Light incense, candle, and open lids of drinks.

*ring bell *

Greetings to the spirits of this land. To the trees, the fairies, and to those who call this land home. Our names are __ and __ . We have moved here and intend to live here for the foreseeable future. In doing so, we hope to live in a peaceful and  harmonious relationship with all who dwell here. We envision our roles as that of nourishing the earth, of making this land better in many aspects. We ask that you, in return, protect us and help the land bloom and grow.

We also ask for your permission to host pagan rituals here for the group by the name of __. These rituals will have people of all kinds attending, hopefully in large numbers. We ask that you are gentle and welcoming to them, so as to help us have pleasant events.

*proceed to give gifts* ( we offered incense, a candle, drinks, and baked goods with fruit – so we had all the elements covered, as well as coffee grains and eggshells for the earth)

We’ve brought these gifts to share with you. Please enjoy them.

*sit down, wait a few moments before eating peacefully*

We concluded the ritual when the incense was burnt out. We didn’t say anything special, just buried the eggshells and coffee at the base of the tree where we will be doing our future offerings.



A Polytheist/Pagan Framework for Healing Mental Illness

IMG_3440Let’s talk about healing. But more specifically, healing as polytheists, as pagans, as wiccans.

I often see the ‘use nature’ way of healing promoted by these groups of people, as if nature alone can heal a soul/broken mind/damaged brain/whatever you want to call it. But, as someone who just moved back to the countryside and is in the middle of experiencing it’s effects upon myself, I’ve got some fresh arguments to post about that. In fact, I’ve had a flash of inspiration and have come up with ‘a thing’. Hopefully it’s the start of something positive. At worst it’s a flub.

Now here’s a thing I was told by a social worker. They told me that 30% of the work in healing comes from medication, and the rest is all therapy and self-work.

And that’s a balance I think we can all strive for. To take our medication as well as working on ourselves spiritually and enjoying nature.

Here I’m going to go out on a limb and propose a thing: a polytheist schema for healing mental health. I’m totally making this up and pulling it from my own experience and have Zero Sources for this. So take it with a bit of salt (and sage too haha).

I’m proposing that we, as a community, approach healing as necessitating 30% medication, 30% self work, 30% environmental help, and 10% divine intervention.

Let’s break this down.

30% medication

Well if you’ve been on this blog for a second or two, you’ll see that I am a huge advocate for medication. You’ll read that it’s really helped me, and that I have a sliver of trust in the doctors and social workers that treat me. Hence, I am following this, and sticking to their 30%.  For those who may be new to this blog: I believe that medication can be effective, wholesome, and positive if well done and properly supervised. Pro tip: not all doctors are wholesome and count as proper supervision. Sometimes they rush the process and don’t listen. Get one that you click with.

30% Self Work

Why such a big percentage for self work? Because I’ve found it to be exceedingly important. Or, as someone else I know was told by their doctor ‘you have to want to get better’. You have to be active in the process. Are you anxious? Work on it. Are you psychotic? Work on it.

How do I propose we ‘work on it’? I propose meditation (within reason), self-reflection, journaling, and basically anything that makes you conscious of yourself and helps you improve on that.

30% Environmental Help

Now here’s where my recent experiences come in. Yes, being in nature helps. But it’s not always all about nature. Sometimes it’s about the people who surround us, talk with us, and who are our therapists and doctors. These people and spirits (depending on how involved you are with your spirits) have a large influence on us. They can support us or tear us down. Having support around us is immensely important, so that’s why I’m boosting it up to an equal 30%

10% Divine Intervention

I’ve had divine intervention in my life, in my healing process. And I truly think that they have a part to do in it all. They are the door openers, door keepers, and opportunity presenters. But will they open the doors for us? Will they zap us better? Very rarely. It’s mainly us who has to do the work (up in that 30%). So that’s why I leave divine intervention at 10%. You can expect their help, but not too much, and not too often. You can expect to do the hard work yourself, because this is your path.

I’m not saying that spirituality need only play a 10% part of your life. I’m saying that’s the work your Deities will do with/for you. But the gods count as support and spiritual activities can count as self-care and self-work. Spirituality in itself overlaps in all the layers, even in our approach to our medication.

In conclusion? I honestly just came up with this, but it rings true to me (can we call it divine inspiration?) and more importantly, it gives a framework that, I find, encompasses my experiences. I will be writing more, hopefully coming up with more details and a healing system/process for pagans and polytheists out there. Details may change, I may recant and decide the whole ting is schmuck, but I’m trying to reach out and help.

I really  believe that, as a community, we need to come up with methods and techniques and frameworks within which to heal and help those with mental illnesses and mental health problems. I’d really love to hear your input on this, in order to help start a conversation. Each and every one of you has experiences that can help us, as a community, move towards more methods to heal.

Moving and Claiming my own Inner Power

I’ve moved!

No, not on the internet. Physically, IRL, I’ve moved!

Now I could rant about how tiring it was, how dramatic the day we moved ‘the big stuff’ was, but I have found something more interesting to talk about.

You see, I’ve been fortunate enough to move into the countryside. And lo and behold, I’m relaxing in a way, on a deeper level, than I have in recent times. It feels good on the soul, like I’m putting a balm on a wound. My night spasms have gotten better. I’m sleeping better. I feel like I can just sit and relax, without having to ‘do something’. My hypervigilance is at an all-time low.

Is living in nature the only solution? Well, no. I currently upped my anti-depressant,  have started seeing changes in my body due to the hormones I’m taking, and have moved next to a friend (with my lovely wife). But all this together? It seems to be doing me wonders.

But, to take a note from my last appointment with my psychiatrist, what am I doing to make things go well? You see, I tend to focus upon the negative, but when things go well (as they are now) I tend to place the power into my circumstances. In doing so, I give my situation all the power over myself and leave none for me.

So. What am I doing that is making me better? I feel like I am ‘individuating’ as Jung would say. I take the time to relax and ‘just be’. I sit outside and meditate next to my little pond (yes I have a mucky little pond haha). I spend time out of doors relaxing in nature and near trees. I seperate my will from that of others.

What about that last point?

You see, I tend to allow others to define me. If they disagree with my being trans, it throws me all into a kerfuffle to say the least. But lately, I visited a church as a way of meeting my local community (and met no locals, surprisingly). In said church, during the sermon, the pastor railed on about the ‘attack on the family structure’ and various other things. As a trans person sitting there, I knew that he was railing about people like me.

And, surprisingly, I didn’t let it bother me. I kept myself from giving a damn. I seperated myself, my desires and life and beliefs, from his.

I also decided to not go back to that church despite the social pressure to go back. Another step forward for me, choosing my own health over the desires of others. It was difficult, but I did it.

And that’s all for now, lovelies. I hope this has helped some of you, or at least shone a bit of light on how various factors can help our mental health. I’ll try and take some nice pictures of my new home for y’all!

Manifesting Abundance

What a load of bullcrap. I have a deep-seated loathing towards ‘manifestation maniacs’, inspired by my own struggle with my daily thoughts. But, as the craze of ‘The Secret’ came and went, I started to cool off my anger and recently, I thought, hey, it’s ok. Just chill, you know?

And then!

When I wasn’t well lately, I called a local pastor simply to have someone to talk to about my problems. Well, did I get that tea! Literally, he took the opportunity and preached at me for about half an hour to nearly an hour. It was exhausting, victim-blaming, but what stuck with me was his notion that once I converted to Christianity all my problems would vanish and I would live ‘in abundance’. In short, I would have so much money and worldly comforts and my life would be easy peasy because God loves us and wants our lives to be nice.

Well, uh. Uhm. Have you noticed all the starving pious Christians world-wide? Like, if this was a matter of faith, I’m sure lots more Christians would be better off.

But here’s a thing. I despise how this ‘manifestation’ stuff so closely resembles this pastor’s bullcrap. It shifts the focus of spirituality onto physical wealth, under the guise of ‘abundance’. It frames physical wealth as a reward for spiritual success, blaming the poor for not being ‘spiritual enough’.

This ‘abundance’ stuff is basically just a wish to get wealthy. And people sell it, preying off of poor unsuspecting people who don’t realize that their focus is being shifted. Yes, to a degree, we can make our own worlds. We can control our minds. But why don’t we wish for good spiritual qualities, manifesting ourselves as kind, gentle, and peaceful instead of simply… wealthy?

I leave you with a post on the topic that inspired me to write this: HERE


Mental Illness and Creative Writing – The Later Days

As I explained in my previous post, I remained largely alive due to my beliefs in my writing and its reality. I believed that somewhere, in some dimension or other, my characters existed. I believed I was chosen by them to retell their stories, a sort of missionary to the world.

How did this change as my psychosis burst over me? How did this change as I fell in love with my wife, and sought out treatment?

Simply, it didn’t. My writing remained there, and I was determined as ever to convey their message to this world.

It was only when I became medicated and more balanced in my brain that I realized that maybe it wasn’t true that these stories existed. That maybe it was all part of a delusion.

It was a terrifying realization, that maybe these novels I’d dedicated my life to were just that – novels. It was hard, and still is hard. Part of me deep inside still believes firmly that they are real in some dimension, but the logical part of me is wary to believe it like I used to.

Presently, I float between the two beliefs, my heart in one and my brain in the other. But my dedication remains the same. Writing is my path, my vocation. I may have become less militant in it, but I still consider it a large part of who I am.


Mental Illness and Creative Writing – The Early Days

I’ve written about this before on another blog that I ran about writing (and have since quit) but I think it bears repeating here. I write (duh), and I have mental illness (double duh). But how do the two intertwine?

In the past as a young child and later as a teen, I was suicidal. I felt my life had no meaning. I felt empty, anchorless. When I began to write however, life gained on a spectrum of colors and meaning. My life became bigger than myself, it became about these fantastical characters.

Later, in my teens, as my suicidal desires increased, I struggled daily to find reasons to live. Unfortunately, as is so often the case, my family just wasn’t incentive enough to stay. What made me feel like I had to stay alive was my stories.

Because to me, my characters were alive.  Maybe due to psychosis, maybe because I was in a burst of psychic practice, but I firmly believed my characters existed in another world. I felt I was their chosen emissiary, their special one who would tell their story to the world. And that duty was what gave me reason to stay alive.

I fought my suicidal ideation, my chronic nightmares, survived on three-four hours of sleep a night for years, all because of my belief in these characters and their choosing of me. Largely, I made it through the most dangerous and lonely part of my life thanks to writing.

To Be Continued…

Psychosis and Meditation

So I’m not sure how to write this. Part of me wants to retell you my story, about how I used to meditate so much. Part of me wants to just dive in with my revelation of the morning.

Let’s start with my history then. I used to meditate a LOT. In my teens, I used to do (unsupervised) meditations where I could push myself into ecstasy, could feel the chemistry changing in my brain, could push myself into euphoria, and generally felt enlightened. Then, around age 18, I had what I refer to as my first psychotic break. While lying in bed and doing nothing particular, I was suddenly euphoric, on pink and blue fluffy clouds. In the following few days I became convinced my best friend was possessed by a demon, and got lost in familiar places.

Well, in the ensuing shit-storm that was my life for the next few years, I kept trying to meditate. It often inexplicably made things worse. Like just a few months ago, I tried meditating five times a day and inexplicably started having what I believe are psychotic symptoms again (feeling oneness with the divine, seeing ‘patterns’ everywhere, illogical thoughts, etc).

Now here’s the thing -> Meditation can cause brief psychotic episodes.


I know, right? But after speaking with my psychiatrist who told me that meditation seemed to be a trigger for my derealization and recently wanting to meditate again, I did a little bit of googling this morning.

“Meditation can act as a stressor in vulnerable patients who may develop a transient psychosis with polymorphic symptomatology.”

“In fact, unguided meditation practices can be harmful for people with a diagnosis of a psychotic disorder and have indeed been documented as worsening the psychotic symptoms of some individuals.”

And here I was, trying to ‘meditate my way’ out of it, believing that meditation could only help. Well no!

I’ve linked the articles in my quotes above, but the jist is that unsupervised meditation can cause temporay psychotic symptoms in people who’ve had the symptoms before.

The key things here seem to be ‘unguided’ meditation, wherein the person goes into deep trances unsupervised. I’m guessing that these states can be triggers for the derealization and other symptoms. At least that’s how I experienced it.

Furthermore, the good news is that these symptoms are temporary. My psychotic symptoms after intense meditation went away on their own. They were short term. So the good news is that if you get fresh symptoms after meditating, chances are they will go away.

The bad news is that my long-term symptoms never went away in my periods of low meditation. They still need medication, but are very well controlled.

Anyways, I’m not a doctor nor am I trying to frighten anyone. But please, please, be cautious about meditating if you already have experienced psychotic symptoms. It may bring them back, and even if you don’t have psychotic symptoms, I still urge caution!