It's very easy to describe your surroundings. When someone gets themselves all sorted out, they look around themselves and see the simplicity of things, the easy truth about form and function. They see the simple truth about how we monkeys can mesh so easily with each other, the simple truth about the world, and it is so easy to forget all the **** they had to soldier through to get there.
That path was paved in pain, paved in struggle and in the face of constant failure. Each brick needed to be laid by hand. The road you travel from fear and isolation to strength and connection seems so simple when it's finished. But when you're building it, it is hard sometimes to see anything else but the endless work involved in sorting things out.
It's easy for those who have turned their lives around to look back on their past from a position of strength and see how all the fears that held them back were ultimately so pointless, so unreal. It is an easy trap to fall into, I think, to tell others to simply get over themselves, to face up to the fact that they have nothing to ***** about, and to just get out there and learn the skills they need to succeed.
But this, I think, is an illusion. C. S. Lewis makes a point brilliantly in a book called The Great Divorce about this psychological phenomenon. It is an amazing book, it's what started me looking at philosophy in the first place. Lewis has a lot to answer for. The book is about the difference between heaven and hell. Hell, he says, seems so big when you're in it. All the little excuses we build around ourselves seem so important to us when we're unhappy. They seem like the most important things in the world. They all seem so right, so powerful. So real.
When we live in fear, our minds fill out the universe that we perceive in terms of that fear itself. Everything is harsh and cold. Like fear. Harsh and cold. But then of course, once you get yourself strong, the gaping chasm of fear shrinks down to a mere crack in the pavement and you can see that all the terrors that held you back have no reality at all.
The emotional charge of everything you perceive around you is dictated by your emotional core.
When your emotional core is filled with strength, the whole world becomes friendlier, brighter, filled with opportunity. Everything is smooth, and cool. People like you, and things seem to fall into place. You find it easy to be effortlessly calm and easily expressive in the presence of the people you want to impress, be they beautiful women or amazing men. You deal with worries like you'd bat away a troublesome fly, and you love the thrill associated with challenge. You feel confident. Sometimes you even feel ****y, but you never get lost in the ****iness, because you feel so centred. Life is good.
When your emotional core is filled with fear, the whole world becomes colder and darker, filled with dangers. Everything is jagged, and all the edges cut you. People are distant and threatening, and it takes a monumental effort of will to appear normal so they will interact with you in a positive way. Your mask keeps slipping, and even when it is in place, the relationships that you have, be they with your friends or lovers, seem to stand on a knife's edge.
All the things that matter to you are fragile, and your life becomes a matter of juggling an ever increasing number of hugely important juggling balls. If you take your eye off them for one second and one falls, it smashes into pieces and takes your heart with it.
As a man living in fear, beauty paralyzes you. The attention of a stunning woman is literally stunning. It's like staring into the eyes of a Gorgon, you are petrified and held rigid in place by the fear you feel. You can only move and speak through a conscious effort of will. You have to force yourself to interact, and thus the interaction seems forced. You can only speak normally through a monumental commitment to training yourself to act normal under the onslaught of terror that consumes you.
It's not just women. It infects every aspect of your life. Sometimes to a greater degree, sometimes to a lesser degree, but the influence of fear is always there, clogging your mind, wrecking the subtleties and nuances of which you are capable of perceiving and expressing. You do not fight to fulfill the dreams you have because you see them as mere fanatasies. You panic more than you need to. You panic at everything. Small problems turn quickly into fiascos and crises. Sometimes it feels like there are no small problems, just a never ending, expanding list of insurmountable obstacles that hem you in like the bars of a cage. You feel trapped. Trapped and alone.
Whenever you feel satisfied, which doesn't happen very often, you cling to that feeling like its a piece of driftwood in an open sea. When you really have made an achievement against all odds, the magnitude of what you have done perverts the feeling of strength you would normally get from the feeling of acheivement. Your state of mind exaggerates the satisfaction you feel into a world-encompassing arrogance. So even when you do well, you victories become just one more wall that separates you from the people around you.
You are never centred. You wouldn't know what being centred looked like if it slapped you in the face. And sometimes, just sometimes, you look back on a night in with the people you love and you think how great it was just to chill. Just to be free. Just for one night to have to stop fighting so goddamned hard to keep your head above water.
And worst of all? You are alone.
Your loneliness eats you up inside sometimes. The more it pulls at you, the harder you try to build that mask of normality, to build that mask of happiness and strength to cover the seething mass of fear that boils beneath it threatening to blow the lid off everything like a pressure cooker left on too long.
To my recollection, that is what it feels like to be unhappy. That is what it feels like to live in fear. It is a terrible thing, a terrible and powerful trap. The reason I wrote this piece is not so that I could describe it from memory, but so I could explain what it is psychologically, and also to explain the route out of it. For the sake of convenience, and as something of a homage to my hero, C.S. Lewis, I'm going to refer to this negative state of mind as hell.
Hell seems so big when you're in it. All the world is hell when you live in fear. All your hopes and dreams are bittersweet, for you know in your heart that you'll never accomplish them. They exist only to lift you up in your mind for a while until the crushing weight of reality pulls you back down. Until the nastiness of the world you live in wakes you up to smell the coffee. Until the ****tiness of reality brings you back to the terrible truth - that in a world of chaos, there is no purpose to anything. Not your hopes. Not your friendships. Not your lovers. Not even you.
Listen to me, and read the next words very carefully. Hell is not real.
Hell isn't real. It's not. It is a psychological phenomenon that gains power in a very specific way - a way that you can combat. Fighting your way out of it is hard, but worthwhile. Staying inside it is easy, but horrific. I'm not telling you to fight. That is your choice. I cannot make it for you. What I can say is that if you put off this battle now, you will find it easier to put it off next time. If you never fight, you will live your life in hell. You will die in hell. I can't tell you what will happen after that. You work it out. But remember - this is about now. This is about the life you live here, on earth, in hell. No one can pull you out. Not your friends, not your family. Not me. Your friends and your family can support you in the fight. I can give you a map of the battlefield. But I cannot throw your punches for you. Your demons are your own. You have to fight, or they will win. That is the choice you face.
The geography of hell is as complex as it is convincing. It is infinitely complex. It is infinitely convincing. It seems like all the world. It seems limitless. It seems real. There are very specific reasons for this, and I'll go into them right now.
Essentially, what you are experiencing is an evolutionary survival response that is an integral part of the psychological makeup of even the most balanced and confident human being. I don't believe that there's any point in saying here that hell is, in and of itself, a bad thing. I believe that, for me, it is horrific. But in and of itself, it simply is what it is. You can decide for yourself what internal world you wish to inhabit. I've made my choice. But this isn't about me. It's about people in general, and if you're a person, it's about you.
The psychological phenomenon that I refer to as hell derives from fundamental aspects of the human mind that are common to us all. These aspects all exist for a reason - as evolved creatures, all the different parts of our minds have evolved to be of immense use to us as individual creatures. When they all work as nature intended, the human animal becomes a juggernaut of brilliance. But if these parts of the mind are working against each other, it is always to the detriment of the individual involved. When taken to extremes it can be completely crippling. It is my opinion that the mental illness known as manic depression (also known as bipolar disorder) is nothing more or less than what happens to a person when the negative psychological processes I'm about to describe have taken hold to an extreme degree.
That path was paved in pain, paved in struggle and in the face of constant failure. Each brick needed to be laid by hand. The road you travel from fear and isolation to strength and connection seems so simple when it's finished. But when you're building it, it is hard sometimes to see anything else but the endless work involved in sorting things out.
It's easy for those who have turned their lives around to look back on their past from a position of strength and see how all the fears that held them back were ultimately so pointless, so unreal. It is an easy trap to fall into, I think, to tell others to simply get over themselves, to face up to the fact that they have nothing to ***** about, and to just get out there and learn the skills they need to succeed.
But this, I think, is an illusion. C. S. Lewis makes a point brilliantly in a book called The Great Divorce about this psychological phenomenon. It is an amazing book, it's what started me looking at philosophy in the first place. Lewis has a lot to answer for. The book is about the difference between heaven and hell. Hell, he says, seems so big when you're in it. All the little excuses we build around ourselves seem so important to us when we're unhappy. They seem like the most important things in the world. They all seem so right, so powerful. So real.
When we live in fear, our minds fill out the universe that we perceive in terms of that fear itself. Everything is harsh and cold. Like fear. Harsh and cold. But then of course, once you get yourself strong, the gaping chasm of fear shrinks down to a mere crack in the pavement and you can see that all the terrors that held you back have no reality at all.
The emotional charge of everything you perceive around you is dictated by your emotional core.
When your emotional core is filled with strength, the whole world becomes friendlier, brighter, filled with opportunity. Everything is smooth, and cool. People like you, and things seem to fall into place. You find it easy to be effortlessly calm and easily expressive in the presence of the people you want to impress, be they beautiful women or amazing men. You deal with worries like you'd bat away a troublesome fly, and you love the thrill associated with challenge. You feel confident. Sometimes you even feel ****y, but you never get lost in the ****iness, because you feel so centred. Life is good.
When your emotional core is filled with fear, the whole world becomes colder and darker, filled with dangers. Everything is jagged, and all the edges cut you. People are distant and threatening, and it takes a monumental effort of will to appear normal so they will interact with you in a positive way. Your mask keeps slipping, and even when it is in place, the relationships that you have, be they with your friends or lovers, seem to stand on a knife's edge.
All the things that matter to you are fragile, and your life becomes a matter of juggling an ever increasing number of hugely important juggling balls. If you take your eye off them for one second and one falls, it smashes into pieces and takes your heart with it.
As a man living in fear, beauty paralyzes you. The attention of a stunning woman is literally stunning. It's like staring into the eyes of a Gorgon, you are petrified and held rigid in place by the fear you feel. You can only move and speak through a conscious effort of will. You have to force yourself to interact, and thus the interaction seems forced. You can only speak normally through a monumental commitment to training yourself to act normal under the onslaught of terror that consumes you.
It's not just women. It infects every aspect of your life. Sometimes to a greater degree, sometimes to a lesser degree, but the influence of fear is always there, clogging your mind, wrecking the subtleties and nuances of which you are capable of perceiving and expressing. You do not fight to fulfill the dreams you have because you see them as mere fanatasies. You panic more than you need to. You panic at everything. Small problems turn quickly into fiascos and crises. Sometimes it feels like there are no small problems, just a never ending, expanding list of insurmountable obstacles that hem you in like the bars of a cage. You feel trapped. Trapped and alone.
Whenever you feel satisfied, which doesn't happen very often, you cling to that feeling like its a piece of driftwood in an open sea. When you really have made an achievement against all odds, the magnitude of what you have done perverts the feeling of strength you would normally get from the feeling of acheivement. Your state of mind exaggerates the satisfaction you feel into a world-encompassing arrogance. So even when you do well, you victories become just one more wall that separates you from the people around you.
You are never centred. You wouldn't know what being centred looked like if it slapped you in the face. And sometimes, just sometimes, you look back on a night in with the people you love and you think how great it was just to chill. Just to be free. Just for one night to have to stop fighting so goddamned hard to keep your head above water.
And worst of all? You are alone.
Your loneliness eats you up inside sometimes. The more it pulls at you, the harder you try to build that mask of normality, to build that mask of happiness and strength to cover the seething mass of fear that boils beneath it threatening to blow the lid off everything like a pressure cooker left on too long.
To my recollection, that is what it feels like to be unhappy. That is what it feels like to live in fear. It is a terrible thing, a terrible and powerful trap. The reason I wrote this piece is not so that I could describe it from memory, but so I could explain what it is psychologically, and also to explain the route out of it. For the sake of convenience, and as something of a homage to my hero, C.S. Lewis, I'm going to refer to this negative state of mind as hell.
Hell seems so big when you're in it. All the world is hell when you live in fear. All your hopes and dreams are bittersweet, for you know in your heart that you'll never accomplish them. They exist only to lift you up in your mind for a while until the crushing weight of reality pulls you back down. Until the nastiness of the world you live in wakes you up to smell the coffee. Until the ****tiness of reality brings you back to the terrible truth - that in a world of chaos, there is no purpose to anything. Not your hopes. Not your friendships. Not your lovers. Not even you.
Listen to me, and read the next words very carefully. Hell is not real.
Hell isn't real. It's not. It is a psychological phenomenon that gains power in a very specific way - a way that you can combat. Fighting your way out of it is hard, but worthwhile. Staying inside it is easy, but horrific. I'm not telling you to fight. That is your choice. I cannot make it for you. What I can say is that if you put off this battle now, you will find it easier to put it off next time. If you never fight, you will live your life in hell. You will die in hell. I can't tell you what will happen after that. You work it out. But remember - this is about now. This is about the life you live here, on earth, in hell. No one can pull you out. Not your friends, not your family. Not me. Your friends and your family can support you in the fight. I can give you a map of the battlefield. But I cannot throw your punches for you. Your demons are your own. You have to fight, or they will win. That is the choice you face.
The geography of hell is as complex as it is convincing. It is infinitely complex. It is infinitely convincing. It seems like all the world. It seems limitless. It seems real. There are very specific reasons for this, and I'll go into them right now.
Essentially, what you are experiencing is an evolutionary survival response that is an integral part of the psychological makeup of even the most balanced and confident human being. I don't believe that there's any point in saying here that hell is, in and of itself, a bad thing. I believe that, for me, it is horrific. But in and of itself, it simply is what it is. You can decide for yourself what internal world you wish to inhabit. I've made my choice. But this isn't about me. It's about people in general, and if you're a person, it's about you.
The psychological phenomenon that I refer to as hell derives from fundamental aspects of the human mind that are common to us all. These aspects all exist for a reason - as evolved creatures, all the different parts of our minds have evolved to be of immense use to us as individual creatures. When they all work as nature intended, the human animal becomes a juggernaut of brilliance. But if these parts of the mind are working against each other, it is always to the detriment of the individual involved. When taken to extremes it can be completely crippling. It is my opinion that the mental illness known as manic depression (also known as bipolar disorder) is nothing more or less than what happens to a person when the negative psychological processes I'm about to describe have taken hold to an extreme degree.