Wednesday, August 1, 2012, 2:08AM
I just remembered something relevant to the placebo post a while back. It is dangerous. If you dabble in this stuff, you will start to apply it to other areas of your life, such as happiness. If you ever get in a deep depression in life, you might try to get out of it by faking happiness, only to face the truth and plunge into depression again, but when you emerge, you may never be completely certain if the happiness you feel is real or not.
But don't let that stop you from fighting the good fight. To all people, their own strategy.
Progress: No speech. Listening and narration.
http://wintrovert.blogspot.com/2012/08/1312.html
Showing posts with label psychology. Show all posts
Showing posts with label psychology. Show all posts
Tuesday, July 31, 2012
Monday, July 30, 2012
129
Monday, July 30, 2012, 9:25PM
I was going to talk about the placebo effect, wasn't I? The placebo effect is the bane to all psychological theories, but it can also be manipulated. You know what I mean, right? We know that if a result is expected, then we can basically create that result. It's fake progress, but it's progress.
Trick Placebo
Let's assume that 90% of all people believe that Scar-Be-Gone, my made-up (as far as I know) and self-explanatory skin cream, notice an improvement in their skin quality. Why? The active ingredients include the the hope that you take good care of your skin in the applied areas, the time it takes for your natural processes to heal a scar, and the product name. Mostly the product name. You will look in the mirror and smile because your eyes see what you want them to see (and we aren't even branding a belief into our subconscious on purpose, like we do with tulpae). You are sure the product is working, so you walk out the door with a smile on your face, lower stress, and it is contagious. Everyone is smiling because you are smiling. You get a complement on how good you look and you are sure they aren't focusing on your scar.
What does this have to do with tulpae? I touched on it a little in the example, but I'll delve deeper into it here. Sometimes we want a placebo effect and sometimes we don't. Here's something interesting, the miracle placebo.
Miracle Placebo
Scar-Be-Gone. You use it. You believe in it. It works... because it is increasing the elastin and protein quality of your skin. Your microcirculation is also becoming that of a healthy child. What just happened? Scar-Be-Gone happened without any physical active ingredients. For some unexplainable reason, your body made the repairs. Yes, psychology is mysterious. Faith is mysterious. There may be an official name for it somewhere, but I'll call it the miracle placebo.
This is not what I want to happen when I create a tulpa. When I create a tulpa, I want there to be belief, yes. I want to fool my brain, yes. I don't want to, along the way, believe that my parroting is actually my tulpa. I am also wary enough of the placebo effect that I am worried that I will disregard signs of progress. Let's manipulate the placebo law to our advantage, shall we? Let's make a miracle placebo. When we see monks or spiritual masters, we don't see them as having comfortable lives. They put themselves through mind-wracking situations in order to strengthen their minds. Kill bad brain cells? Make better neuron connections? Drive out other thoughts? I don't know. One theory I have is that they wear themselves down so that they can be subjected to influence (placebos). Of course they will have visions if they starve themselves in pitch-black caves. They take from their visions enlightenment and achieve progress.
Where was I going with this?
Nowhere, really. It's not like me to do anything but think. I was thinking that I might also be able to apply this concept to remembering things, but then I would create for myself a fake past, which won't go well. Faking photographic memory will cause me to hallucinate (see Don Quijote). I've already tried faking the time in between daymares before (somewhat*) by telling myself how great is was that those days were over. We both know how that turned out (for those who think I am talking to myself, I am talking to the future me who will read this later).
*I actually thought it had been a while because I have a skewed concept of time due to forgetting. I was extremely social at the time, so I wore myself out enough for the 'long time' since my last daymare to be partially true at least. I was congratulating myself, in a way, by being relieved that things were finally settling down. I guess I warped the saying, "It gets worse before it gets better."
Progress: No speech. Narrating. Listening.
I was going to talk about the placebo effect, wasn't I? The placebo effect is the bane to all psychological theories, but it can also be manipulated. You know what I mean, right? We know that if a result is expected, then we can basically create that result. It's fake progress, but it's progress.
Trick Placebo
Let's assume that 90% of all people believe that Scar-Be-Gone, my made-up (as far as I know) and self-explanatory skin cream, notice an improvement in their skin quality. Why? The active ingredients include the the hope that you take good care of your skin in the applied areas, the time it takes for your natural processes to heal a scar, and the product name. Mostly the product name. You will look in the mirror and smile because your eyes see what you want them to see (and we aren't even branding a belief into our subconscious on purpose, like we do with tulpae). You are sure the product is working, so you walk out the door with a smile on your face, lower stress, and it is contagious. Everyone is smiling because you are smiling. You get a complement on how good you look and you are sure they aren't focusing on your scar.
What does this have to do with tulpae? I touched on it a little in the example, but I'll delve deeper into it here. Sometimes we want a placebo effect and sometimes we don't. Here's something interesting, the miracle placebo.
Miracle Placebo
Scar-Be-Gone. You use it. You believe in it. It works... because it is increasing the elastin and protein quality of your skin. Your microcirculation is also becoming that of a healthy child. What just happened? Scar-Be-Gone happened without any physical active ingredients. For some unexplainable reason, your body made the repairs. Yes, psychology is mysterious. Faith is mysterious. There may be an official name for it somewhere, but I'll call it the miracle placebo.
This is not what I want to happen when I create a tulpa. When I create a tulpa, I want there to be belief, yes. I want to fool my brain, yes. I don't want to, along the way, believe that my parroting is actually my tulpa. I am also wary enough of the placebo effect that I am worried that I will disregard signs of progress. Let's manipulate the placebo law to our advantage, shall we? Let's make a miracle placebo. When we see monks or spiritual masters, we don't see them as having comfortable lives. They put themselves through mind-wracking situations in order to strengthen their minds. Kill bad brain cells? Make better neuron connections? Drive out other thoughts? I don't know. One theory I have is that they wear themselves down so that they can be subjected to influence (placebos). Of course they will have visions if they starve themselves in pitch-black caves. They take from their visions enlightenment and achieve progress.
Where was I going with this?
Nowhere, really. It's not like me to do anything but think. I was thinking that I might also be able to apply this concept to remembering things, but then I would create for myself a fake past, which won't go well. Faking photographic memory will cause me to hallucinate (see Don Quijote). I've already tried faking the time in between daymares before (somewhat*) by telling myself how great is was that those days were over. We both know how that turned out (for those who think I am talking to myself, I am talking to the future me who will read this later).
*I actually thought it had been a while because I have a skewed concept of time due to forgetting. I was extremely social at the time, so I wore myself out enough for the 'long time' since my last daymare to be partially true at least. I was congratulating myself, in a way, by being relieved that things were finally settling down. I guess I warped the saying, "It gets worse before it gets better."
Progress: No speech. Narrating. Listening.
Tuesday, July 10, 2012
110
Wednesday, July 11, 2012, 12:20AM
It was good while it lasted.
I thought it might be worthy to note that I've been able to think in pictures lately. Until last night, I have been able to simply think of something and see it in my head. Last night, I dug too deep when I tried to focus on a person's nose. The lesson was that if I don't know what every part of a person looks like, then I shouldn't even try to fill in the gaps with my imagination. As you may have already guessed, the nose was corrupted a bit. Instead of aborting the thought process, I hopelessly subjected myself to focusing on it in an attempt to change things back to the way they were. I ended up aborting before it would get worse.
Even though I this is related to daymares, I don't really count this as a true daymare. This is an on-the-spot definition, but I think a daymare is a forced memory (which can be real, altered, or completely unrelated to the victim's life) which causes harm (mentally-draining, increased heartbeat, chest pain, and those imagined feelings from the memory such as fear, guilt, or physical injury). When my thoughts become corrupted, it becomes difficult to explain. I'm very certain it is related to daymares, but I can't put a word to it besides corruption.
Why?
I may have mentioned my theories before:
My brain wants to subject myself to negative emotions frequently in order to let off steam. If I didn't have frequent small ones to prepare me for the (in comparison) huge daymares, they would render me mentally harmed. I need to callous my mind to prepare. Cover my brain with mud to block the scorching sun.
I block out memories because they are too much for me to handle.
I block out memories because they are too beautiful and they would make me see everything I am experiencing as hellish in comparison.
I have a huge conscience, therefore I have huge empathy.
I have huge empathy, therefore I have a huge conscience.
I am actually an evil person and my brain is trying to make me good via subjecting me to 'see how you like it' simulations.
I am trying to recover from some terrible mentally-scarring event that I am suppressing.
I am constantly thinking and it separates me from normal perspectives of reality, which prevents me from relying on memories like other people.
I am constantly thinking, therefore I have no time to keep track of memories.
I am constantly thinking, therefore I convert constructs normally used for memory into other problem-solving constructs (pretty inefficient if you ask me, but the brain's the boss).
I have no memories, therefore I learned to adapt to social situations.
I am excellent at social adaptation, therefore I do not need memories.
My subconscious knows that negative feelings are bad, therefore it subjects me to them in order to make myself 'invincible' to them. Defiant to daymares. "Is that all you got?" A masochist even. "You can't hurt me when I take pleasure from the pain."
There are theories I do not want to say because they feed off of being spoken about. Use your imagination, I don't like to go there.
I have seen or known too much happen to the friends I meet. Innocents turning to drugs, alcohol, cutting, and living in tragic homes.
Everything I am is the result of having no childhood.
I have multiple personalities, each with its own memory and possibly even a combination of the above. This theory exponentiates the possibilities.
In other news... I still have a powersession tonight. I might edit this list with other theories.
Progress: Tulpa personality narration.
http://wintrovert.blogspot.com/2012/07/1102.html
It was good while it lasted.
I thought it might be worthy to note that I've been able to think in pictures lately. Until last night, I have been able to simply think of something and see it in my head. Last night, I dug too deep when I tried to focus on a person's nose. The lesson was that if I don't know what every part of a person looks like, then I shouldn't even try to fill in the gaps with my imagination. As you may have already guessed, the nose was corrupted a bit. Instead of aborting the thought process, I hopelessly subjected myself to focusing on it in an attempt to change things back to the way they were. I ended up aborting before it would get worse.
Even though I this is related to daymares, I don't really count this as a true daymare. This is an on-the-spot definition, but I think a daymare is a forced memory (which can be real, altered, or completely unrelated to the victim's life) which causes harm (mentally-draining, increased heartbeat, chest pain, and those imagined feelings from the memory such as fear, guilt, or physical injury). When my thoughts become corrupted, it becomes difficult to explain. I'm very certain it is related to daymares, but I can't put a word to it besides corruption.
Why?
I may have mentioned my theories before:
My brain wants to subject myself to negative emotions frequently in order to let off steam. If I didn't have frequent small ones to prepare me for the (in comparison) huge daymares, they would render me mentally harmed. I need to callous my mind to prepare. Cover my brain with mud to block the scorching sun.
I block out memories because they are too much for me to handle.
I block out memories because they are too beautiful and they would make me see everything I am experiencing as hellish in comparison.
I have a huge conscience, therefore I have huge empathy.
I have huge empathy, therefore I have a huge conscience.
I am actually an evil person and my brain is trying to make me good via subjecting me to 'see how you like it' simulations.
I am trying to recover from some terrible mentally-scarring event that I am suppressing.
I am constantly thinking and it separates me from normal perspectives of reality, which prevents me from relying on memories like other people.
I am constantly thinking, therefore I have no time to keep track of memories.
I am constantly thinking, therefore I convert constructs normally used for memory into other problem-solving constructs (pretty inefficient if you ask me, but the brain's the boss).
I have no memories, therefore I learned to adapt to social situations.
I am excellent at social adaptation, therefore I do not need memories.
My subconscious knows that negative feelings are bad, therefore it subjects me to them in order to make myself 'invincible' to them. Defiant to daymares. "Is that all you got?" A masochist even. "You can't hurt me when I take pleasure from the pain."
There are theories I do not want to say because they feed off of being spoken about. Use your imagination, I don't like to go there.
I have seen or known too much happen to the friends I meet. Innocents turning to drugs, alcohol, cutting, and living in tragic homes.
Everything I am is the result of having no childhood.
I have multiple personalities, each with its own memory and possibly even a combination of the above. This theory exponentiates the possibilities.
In other news... I still have a powersession tonight. I might edit this list with other theories.
Progress: Tulpa personality narration.
http://wintrovert.blogspot.com/2012/07/1102.html
Monday, July 9, 2012
108
Monday, July 9, 2012, 9:30PM
After reading for three hours, my patience at the material was running out.
'This woman has never watched television, never talked on a phone, and never read a newspaper. Is she from another planet?'
I responded aloud, "Come on, love."
This daymare brought to you in part by phrases you continue to use for years at a time.
This experience spawned in me a theory that the reason I constantly change as a person is because I constantly throw away the things I do that make me who I am. Of course, this leads to the obvious theoretical conclusion of 'changing who you are all the time probably induces amnesia.'
I create theories like this every once in a while. It just so happened that I had access to a computer this time.
On another note, tulpae. I woke up to start narrating, but I ended up losing all my momentum due to other mental commitments (which have to do with making more time for my future-tulpa, so I'm not complaining.)
On another optimistic note, the last time I took a break, I was a narrating machine the next day.
Also, I still have a chance to redeem myself tonight in my powersession.
Progress: Tulpanarration.
http://wintrovert.blogspot.com/2012/07/109.html
After reading for three hours, my patience at the material was running out.
'This woman has never watched television, never talked on a phone, and never read a newspaper. Is she from another planet?'
I responded aloud, "Come on, love."
This daymare brought to you in part by phrases you continue to use for years at a time.
This experience spawned in me a theory that the reason I constantly change as a person is because I constantly throw away the things I do that make me who I am. Of course, this leads to the obvious theoretical conclusion of 'changing who you are all the time probably induces amnesia.'
I create theories like this every once in a while. It just so happened that I had access to a computer this time.
On another note, tulpae. I woke up to start narrating, but I ended up losing all my momentum due to other mental commitments (which have to do with making more time for my future-tulpa, so I'm not complaining.)
On another optimistic note, the last time I took a break, I was a narrating machine the next day.
Also, I still have a chance to redeem myself tonight in my powersession.
Progress: Tulpanarration.
http://wintrovert.blogspot.com/2012/07/109.html
Saturday, June 30, 2012
99
Saturday, June 30, 2012, 11:21PM
Pardon my rambling:
There is this mental tightrope I have to walk across. It is one of those 'fine line' kind of things. We usually go about our daily lives unaware of various psychological laws acting on us. These are unspoken laws. I believe we suppress them for good reasons. If we talk about them, point them out, or experiment with them, we play with fire. If we find some 'secret truth' that explains our minds and human-human interaction, we never look at the world the same way. We begin to see people as scripts, actions, and reactions. Numbers even. We get an attitude that separates us. We begin to look for more of this knowledge and later, we say to ourselves... 'I've dug too deep.'
This is how I feel. This 'knowledge' doesn't make you smarter. It makes us ask more questions, question known truths, and it takes away the safety we once had in... not ignorance, but the ability to not think everything to death. It's like being overwhelmed and attacked. Being too fast to stop or too strong to hold your loved one.
Every day, I am narrating as usual, but I have to not narrate at certain times. These are times which I believe may hold risk in relating my tulpa to something negative, such as daymares.
1) Have a negative experience.
2) Think of your tulpa.
The above should not be the order of operations. In the future, this could develop into
1) Think of your tulpa.
2) Think of a negative experience.
The only thing preventing every person in the world thinking like this is mental suppression. We censor our thoughts for our own safety. Our brains want to be sane, so they limit themselves. Slow down the traffic. Brains ask for permission as much as possible.
In the daily narration grind, I can feel the war waging inside of my head. It's the same feeling we get as ignorant and blissful children when we realize we don't know what is going on in our parents' lives, the bills they have to pay, the work they have to do and that this very thought is a maturing thought into a darker world, but we brush off the thought in order to stay in happiness. Maybe it can be described as the rejection of curiosity.
When dealing with mind experiments, I just think to myself that perhaps I've dug too deep. I am mentally-calloused from my past so much that I frequently yearn to be without the curiosity and appreciation of knowledge I have. This said, I would still continue with the tulpa project.
Progress: Narration of personality.
http://wintrovert.blogspot.com/2012/07/100.html
Pardon my rambling:
There is this mental tightrope I have to walk across. It is one of those 'fine line' kind of things. We usually go about our daily lives unaware of various psychological laws acting on us. These are unspoken laws. I believe we suppress them for good reasons. If we talk about them, point them out, or experiment with them, we play with fire. If we find some 'secret truth' that explains our minds and human-human interaction, we never look at the world the same way. We begin to see people as scripts, actions, and reactions. Numbers even. We get an attitude that separates us. We begin to look for more of this knowledge and later, we say to ourselves... 'I've dug too deep.'
This is how I feel. This 'knowledge' doesn't make you smarter. It makes us ask more questions, question known truths, and it takes away the safety we once had in... not ignorance, but the ability to not think everything to death. It's like being overwhelmed and attacked. Being too fast to stop or too strong to hold your loved one.
Every day, I am narrating as usual, but I have to not narrate at certain times. These are times which I believe may hold risk in relating my tulpa to something negative, such as daymares.
1) Have a negative experience.
2) Think of your tulpa.
The above should not be the order of operations. In the future, this could develop into
1) Think of your tulpa.
2) Think of a negative experience.
The only thing preventing every person in the world thinking like this is mental suppression. We censor our thoughts for our own safety. Our brains want to be sane, so they limit themselves. Slow down the traffic. Brains ask for permission as much as possible.
In the daily narration grind, I can feel the war waging inside of my head. It's the same feeling we get as ignorant and blissful children when we realize we don't know what is going on in our parents' lives, the bills they have to pay, the work they have to do and that this very thought is a maturing thought into a darker world, but we brush off the thought in order to stay in happiness. Maybe it can be described as the rejection of curiosity.
When dealing with mind experiments, I just think to myself that perhaps I've dug too deep. I am mentally-calloused from my past so much that I frequently yearn to be without the curiosity and appreciation of knowledge I have. This said, I would still continue with the tulpa project.
Progress: Narration of personality.
http://wintrovert.blogspot.com/2012/07/100.html
Wednesday, June 13, 2012
82
Wednesday, June 13, 2012PM, 10:00PM
Hello and welcome to get-to-know-me.
Without further ado, this is how I am able to tie my own memory-trigger to areas of various importance.
As I mentioned earlier, the traits of my tulpa are as follows:
Peace
Kindness
Thankfulness
Intelligence
These traits were set in place to minimize the risk of hostile takeover. As you can see, anyone with these traits is bound to be a great person.
Note the syllables.
1 Peace
2 Kindness
3 Thankfulness
4 Intelligence
I know myself, therefore I know the first thing I would think of in creating a tulpa's personality would be my own mental safety. What I have to work with is a huge list of adjectives, right? I want to narrow it down.
A long time ago, there was a creepy-pasta-esque quiz that got sent to me in my email or I that someone had me take. Either way, the way it works is, it asks you few math questions and what-have-you in order to fatigue your brain before the final question: "Name a color and a tool." Most mentally-exhausted people choose the two simplest answers. "Red shovel." The bottom line is, "You picked red shovel, didn't you?" Or something of the sort.
Take this for example: what is 'mother' in another language? Chances are, it starts with an 'm' and sounds a lot like every other word. For obvious reason, this is the most simple sound of a baby to make.
This two examples are about simplicity to the average human mind. What is the first personality adjective you think of? For me, it is the word 'nice'. I usually connect that word to a similar word (like a game of telephone) until I hit one of the four words. Another way I remember what these traits are is visualizing my tulpa and seeing how peaceful it looks. Peace is the primary focus of today.
Progress: Personality narration. Pre-tulpa still has not responded.
http://wintrovert.blogspot.com/2012/06/83.html
Hello and welcome to get-to-know-me.
Without further ado, this is how I am able to tie my own memory-trigger to areas of various importance.
As I mentioned earlier, the traits of my tulpa are as follows:
Peace
Kindness
Thankfulness
Intelligence
These traits were set in place to minimize the risk of hostile takeover. As you can see, anyone with these traits is bound to be a great person.
Note the syllables.
1 Peace
2 Kindness
3 Thankfulness
4 Intelligence
I know myself, therefore I know the first thing I would think of in creating a tulpa's personality would be my own mental safety. What I have to work with is a huge list of adjectives, right? I want to narrow it down.
A long time ago, there was a creepy-pasta-esque quiz that got sent to me in my email or I that someone had me take. Either way, the way it works is, it asks you few math questions and what-have-you in order to fatigue your brain before the final question: "Name a color and a tool." Most mentally-exhausted people choose the two simplest answers. "Red shovel." The bottom line is, "You picked red shovel, didn't you?" Or something of the sort.
Take this for example: what is 'mother' in another language? Chances are, it starts with an 'm' and sounds a lot like every other word. For obvious reason, this is the most simple sound of a baby to make.
This two examples are about simplicity to the average human mind. What is the first personality adjective you think of? For me, it is the word 'nice'. I usually connect that word to a similar word (like a game of telephone) until I hit one of the four words. Another way I remember what these traits are is visualizing my tulpa and seeing how peaceful it looks. Peace is the primary focus of today.
Progress: Personality narration. Pre-tulpa still has not responded.
http://wintrovert.blogspot.com/2012/06/83.html
Saturday, April 28, 2012
36.2
Saturday, April 28, 2012, 11:33PM
I meditated earlier today, but not for long. There is nothing to say as far as significance goes. Then again, I should explain anyway. I don't know what assumptions you've made as to how I meditate, so I will include all I can. I probably should have posted this a while ago, but better late than never.
I don't think I usually plan anything out, but I might feel more inclined to a certain method that day if I want to try something new. Like water, I will choose the path of least resistance.
I pick a quiet place and make sure it is dark. The last few times, I used my own dorm. While my roommate is asleep or away, I sit cross-legged and slouch into a relaxed position (I find that it is easier than sitting up straight). When the sun was rising, I put blankets up to block the light.
My hands do not touch, but are separated from one another by my smartphone, which stores figure anatomy references. My method of learning is not brute force-- it is trying all sorts of methods in order to find the right one that works the best.
I look at the images for a long time, noting the size and distance of the features of, say, a face. I trace the lines with my eyes and pretend to draw them. Sometimes I use my fingers. I try to appreciate the aspects that appeal to me-- aspects which make something beautiful. I have once or twice tried to 'scan' pictures with my eyes by analyzing it (extremely) slowly and snaking my tiny area of focus from the top right corner to the bottom left. I try looking at the pictures with my peripheral vision from every angle I can. I try checking up on the pictures even when I am not in a meditation session.
If I run into trouble, such as thinking a corrupt thought, I will stop. Usually, this only occurs in the beginning and I can tell how bad it will be by this. If it does not reveal itself until long into the meditation (past 25 minutes), then I will press onward instead of aborting and losing my hard-earned focus. I will not abort if I am weak in my awareness of my surroundings.*
*I have a theory that there is a semi-selfish awareness aspect to our minds that is constantly telling us, "You are alive and your location is your room." or "You exist and your location is unknown." It grows weak when you focus on something else. It can change when getting really into a movie, for example. The paradox of this is that one cannot say, "Hey! That part of my brain that usually reminds me of my own existence is asleep right now!" or else that part of the brain will activate. If I am correct, then this part of the brain contributes to the short delay/hesitation in what we say and do. I say this because those in the habit of selflessness tend to instinctively not base their decisions off of data relevant to themselves.
http://wintrovert.blogspot.com/2012/04/37.html
I meditated earlier today, but not for long. There is nothing to say as far as significance goes. Then again, I should explain anyway. I don't know what assumptions you've made as to how I meditate, so I will include all I can. I probably should have posted this a while ago, but better late than never.
I don't think I usually plan anything out, but I might feel more inclined to a certain method that day if I want to try something new. Like water, I will choose the path of least resistance.
I pick a quiet place and make sure it is dark. The last few times, I used my own dorm. While my roommate is asleep or away, I sit cross-legged and slouch into a relaxed position (I find that it is easier than sitting up straight). When the sun was rising, I put blankets up to block the light.
My hands do not touch, but are separated from one another by my smartphone, which stores figure anatomy references. My method of learning is not brute force-- it is trying all sorts of methods in order to find the right one that works the best.
I look at the images for a long time, noting the size and distance of the features of, say, a face. I trace the lines with my eyes and pretend to draw them. Sometimes I use my fingers. I try to appreciate the aspects that appeal to me-- aspects which make something beautiful. I have once or twice tried to 'scan' pictures with my eyes by analyzing it (extremely) slowly and snaking my tiny area of focus from the top right corner to the bottom left. I try looking at the pictures with my peripheral vision from every angle I can. I try checking up on the pictures even when I am not in a meditation session.
If I run into trouble, such as thinking a corrupt thought, I will stop. Usually, this only occurs in the beginning and I can tell how bad it will be by this. If it does not reveal itself until long into the meditation (past 25 minutes), then I will press onward instead of aborting and losing my hard-earned focus. I will not abort if I am weak in my awareness of my surroundings.*
*I have a theory that there is a semi-selfish awareness aspect to our minds that is constantly telling us, "You are alive and your location is your room." or "You exist and your location is unknown." It grows weak when you focus on something else. It can change when getting really into a movie, for example. The paradox of this is that one cannot say, "Hey! That part of my brain that usually reminds me of my own existence is asleep right now!" or else that part of the brain will activate. If I am correct, then this part of the brain contributes to the short delay/hesitation in what we say and do. I say this because those in the habit of selflessness tend to instinctively not base their decisions off of data relevant to themselves.
http://wintrovert.blogspot.com/2012/04/37.html
Thursday, April 26, 2012
34
Thursday, April 26, 2012, 11:24PM
I didn't make my hour of meditation in, but I still have a little more time to redeem myself tonight. I am looking at everything with a more artistic perspective. This is less seeing in front of me and more paying attention to detail. Maybe I am just in a good mood lately. Maybe it is the relaxing meditation?
Earlier today, something happened which made my eyes open. I was taking a little snooze in math class (I already took calculus in high school-- give me a break!) when I felt a tap on the shoulder. It took me a second to realize that no one in the room touched me.
This brings me to my point of discussion. Psychology is very important to me and I hope I at least leave you with a better appreciation for it with my blog. One of the topics of psychology is the placebo effect. This means that you can give someone a fake medicine and tell them that it cures something-- and it will. Harry Potter did this to his friend Ron Weasley to make him more confident so he would do well in quittage. Our minds are very mysterious and very powerful.
If you've been reading my posts, you should know that I am pretty messed-up. Along with this, I have no idea how many months or years ago this occurred due to my skewed concept of time. I am remembering all of this because of recent events reminding me. See my post on triggers. Long story short, I have memory problems. I never told anyone(?) until I was caught on the spot one day. I had no mind-fuel left to fake vague knowledge, throw a distraction out, or pull any other tricks.
So, my mother found out. We scheduled for me to have a brain MRI (they took a 3D picture of my brain) to check for abnormalities. The MRI is a very safe procedure and does not harm patients unless they forget to mention surgical screws, teeth fillings, or any other metallic object that can be forcibly torn through flesh by the super-magnet. My father talked about the healing powers of magnets... how fortunate I was to live in this time. He is always very supportive. Optimistic. Not showing concern for the cost of the procedure.
I was pushed into the machine lying on my back. After a few minutes into the session, the magnet pulled at my brain, creating the most helpless sensation imaginable. The technician and my mother tried to suggest to me that I just imagined the feeling. I was shaking with fear. It is surreal when no one believes you. Nightmarish. I did not want to go back in. Then again, I am a psychologist at heart and I knew about these things-- the mind is powerful enough to create any illusion. I respected the authority of the professional. I must not have lost my trust of people at that time. I was slowly convinced to try it again.
After I settled down for a bit, I forgot about the foreign feeling. How did it feel? If I cannot remember how it felt, so they may be right. I lay down on the slab, got buried six feet into the cylinder, and closed my eyes. MRI's make scans at various frequencies, or so I was told by the technician. All I could think of were the happiest thoughts. The technician was firing different frequencies manually out of my sight. I had to trust her. I focused so hard that day-- on a utopia, a dream world, or some illusion to escape with.
Sometimes we can fool ourselves out of fear. Maybe it was my fear. Maybe my mind needs some balancing out. I can't be sure. All I know is, that it was real to me twice.
http://wintrovert.blogspot.com/2012/04/35.html
I didn't make my hour of meditation in, but I still have a little more time to redeem myself tonight. I am looking at everything with a more artistic perspective. This is less seeing in front of me and more paying attention to detail. Maybe I am just in a good mood lately. Maybe it is the relaxing meditation?
Earlier today, something happened which made my eyes open. I was taking a little snooze in math class (I already took calculus in high school-- give me a break!) when I felt a tap on the shoulder. It took me a second to realize that no one in the room touched me.
This brings me to my point of discussion. Psychology is very important to me and I hope I at least leave you with a better appreciation for it with my blog. One of the topics of psychology is the placebo effect. This means that you can give someone a fake medicine and tell them that it cures something-- and it will. Harry Potter did this to his friend Ron Weasley to make him more confident so he would do well in quittage. Our minds are very mysterious and very powerful.
If you've been reading my posts, you should know that I am pretty messed-up. Along with this, I have no idea how many months or years ago this occurred due to my skewed concept of time. I am remembering all of this because of recent events reminding me. See my post on triggers. Long story short, I have memory problems. I never told anyone(?) until I was caught on the spot one day. I had no mind-fuel left to fake vague knowledge, throw a distraction out, or pull any other tricks.
So, my mother found out. We scheduled for me to have a brain MRI (they took a 3D picture of my brain) to check for abnormalities. The MRI is a very safe procedure and does not harm patients unless they forget to mention surgical screws, teeth fillings, or any other metallic object that can be forcibly torn through flesh by the super-magnet. My father talked about the healing powers of magnets... how fortunate I was to live in this time. He is always very supportive. Optimistic. Not showing concern for the cost of the procedure.
I was pushed into the machine lying on my back. After a few minutes into the session, the magnet pulled at my brain, creating the most helpless sensation imaginable. The technician and my mother tried to suggest to me that I just imagined the feeling. I was shaking with fear. It is surreal when no one believes you. Nightmarish. I did not want to go back in. Then again, I am a psychologist at heart and I knew about these things-- the mind is powerful enough to create any illusion. I respected the authority of the professional. I must not have lost my trust of people at that time. I was slowly convinced to try it again.
After I settled down for a bit, I forgot about the foreign feeling. How did it feel? If I cannot remember how it felt, so they may be right. I lay down on the slab, got buried six feet into the cylinder, and closed my eyes. MRI's make scans at various frequencies, or so I was told by the technician. All I could think of were the happiest thoughts. The technician was firing different frequencies manually out of my sight. I had to trust her. I focused so hard that day-- on a utopia, a dream world, or some illusion to escape with.
Sometimes we can fool ourselves out of fear. Maybe it was my fear. Maybe my mind needs some balancing out. I can't be sure. All I know is, that it was real to me twice.
http://wintrovert.blogspot.com/2012/04/35.html
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)