Story, part two

[lhexa]

At this point I sent a succession of emails to my friend, describing in detail how my life and myself had made me such a fuck-up; realizations were hitting me fast and hard. I slept four or five hours per night, and for once in my life I was waking up early and eager to see the day. I got through all the messages I wanted except one that would have been about my supposed brilliance. But near the end of this period of writing I came to a realization so profound that it pushed me into a state of ecstasy, although it looks simple when I write it down:

Neither say more than you mean, nor mean more than you say.
Neither feel more than you express, nor express more than you feel.

And there was a third part.

I returned home to my dorm room. I decided not to worry about my approaching exams, and so it was unfortunate that when my mother called me I said to her, "I know how to talk, I'm going to fail wonderfully!" At this point she declared that I was having a psychotic breakdown. Panicking, I called back in a few minutes and spoke more coherently, but it was too late; my mother had sicced student counselling on me. My joy was converted into fear.

The next night I was sleepless. I was thinking as though my thoughts were a fire burning the deadwood from my mind. It suddenly happened that I identified strongly with Nietzsche (later identifications happened with Thoreau, Cavell, Emerson, Kierkegaard, and my college instructors). I thought that through his words and deeds Nietzsche had confronted the greatest flaw of his time: power. Thinking about it, I concluded that this age's greatest flaw was insanity. I decided to confront my fear of insanity.

After speaking to an RA a few times with the door between us too, I agreed to let him accompany down to student counseling. I really enjoyed filling out the paperwork. When seeing a checklist of symptoms I checked every single one except hallucinations. When I saw the first counselor I was so forthcoming about my past, and so insistent that I had gone through insanity, that he called in a more experienced counselor. My insanely bold conversation with this counselor got me into the University of Chicago Hospital's psychiatric ward.

Comments

[lhexa.livejournal.com]

Sometime in March. And, what's kind of frustrating?

[guilen.livejournal.com]

Just that while you were making some kind of breakthrough, they take it as complete craziness.

Just because you're different, or thinking or saying things that people wouldn't or might not normally, it automatically has to be attributed to whatever problems you might have.

That I find frustrating.

GUILEN