Religious fervor

I think I can understand why mental illness historically was seen by primitive societies as demonic possession. I understand why the mentally ill have often felt like they were talking directly to God, or hearing Satan. I understand the gods, magic and mysticism. I get it.

My delusions and psychoses often have religious overtones, and I am not of a religious nature. I get how a religious or superstitious mind could buy into the ideas that these episodes bring into my mind.

The most common "religious" experience I feel is more animistic than anything. I am one with nature. I can feel and hear trees and plants breathing and shifting and growing. I can communicate with animals and plants and the sun and the Earth. I have written poems about this in the past.

"A Mystic's Prayer"

I believe
the Earth is
my Mother
the stars
my Father
I believe that
the beast is
my brother
the grass
my sister
I believe god
is present
in all places
all peoples
all times
I believe that
the soul is
the home of the sacred
that god is
not a person
but all people
I believe
I
have been here
before.

That poem is one way I have expressed my feelings and thoughts during these moments of religious fervor.

Another type of religious experience I have experienced in my symptoms is believing that a mystical "other" or some kind of higher power is either making everything go my way, or trying to ruin my life and everything in it. I may even believe I hear the voice of God or Satan directing me to do things.

These moments frustrate me, because, afterward, I now that they aren't real. But in the moment, in the moment they feel so REAL.

I get it. I get the urge to explain these thoughts and feelings in animistic and religious ways. Gods in the sky, in the trees, in the waters. I get it. I have lived this.

Today I had a moment. A moment of delusion that had a religious theme. It made me think of all the other times I felt this way. Similar things I had experienced.

I remember the emotion, the elation, the ecstasy. I remember the poetry I used to describe these feelings.

I am a mushfish
a fishstar
a starwish
I am a green
brackish
salt water
wishfish
I am a fishroom
a mushdream
a dreamroom
half lucid
half breathing
sexmagic
wishroom
I am a fishwish
a mushwish
a dreamfish
a dance round the fire
with this voodoo shroomfish
I am a starfish
a mushroom, a dreamwish
I am the heartbeat in you
I'm the mushfish

These thoughts. These holy and hellish moments. God and Satan come to life. They can be stressful. In the moment they are so real. But afterward, they just seem foolish.

I get it. I understand the urge to create the forest spirits, the gods of winds and water. I understand the urge, the thoughts, the ideas. I get it.

These religious delusions are probably one of my more common symptoms. They frustrate me so much, I think, because I am naturally such a skeptic and search for logic and reason. These moments of supernatural paranoia and religious fervor frustrate me.

This is one of the things that starts to make me feel weak and foolish. I feel ridiculous for believing them, even for a moment. It just seems like I should know better.

I am trying to accept that this is something I will have to deal with sometimes, and that I can't expects all of my symptoms to disappear forever. I am really trying.

I have been feeling stable. I am functioning at what I would say is 95% normal. I have moments of irrational beliefs and delusions and paranoia, but mostly I feel good. I am trying to accept the 5%. The mild, short episodes and moments of abnormal thoughts and behaviors.

I really do get it. Devils, gods, spirits. I know how it feels to be a mystic, caught in a moment of communion with an indescribable otherness. I know the manic, powerful feeling of touching some part of the Earth, the sun and moon, the stars and the universe. I get it. These primitive urges and feelings are intense. I feel overwhelmed with joy and beauty and ecstasy in the brighter moments. I feel paralyzed with fear and unholy terror in the darker moments.

Today I felt a presence, a whispering voice, a darkness. I believed for a moment that something powerful and evil was influencing me. I had dark thoughts, and believed that the presence was putting them into my mind. It lasted just a couple of minutes. But after it passed, I felt ridiculous. I know that these things are chemicals in my brain, creating feelings and ideas and confusion and delusion.

I know that these things aren't real. It just frustrates me that I even believe them for a second. I know that my guilt and judgement of the delusion and confusion that happens to me is unwarranted. I know that I need to work on it. I'm trying to catch myself. But old habits are hard to break.