Tuesday 4-29-2014 7:26PM
Last night did not go exactly the way I wanted it to...
Was it last night or the night before?
I am actually getting better at remembering things, I swear. This morning, I wrote a long number in the air and I can 'look' at it any time I want to. If I am unsure of one digit, then I can just squint and see the elevation of that digit. If there are, say, a majority of C's in the word, then I will be able to highlight them in red (or at least it feels like red when I look at them, as if they have significance or weight).
I don't know why I can write things in the air all of the sudden. I think making a tulpa helped with the visualization parts of my brain. They are just letters or numbers in the air that I can move around with my hands, point to at random, say what they are, then get slightly freaked out. I think in tulpa terminology, it could be related to an HUD servitor. I tried making a compass servitor before. It resided in the bottom left of my visual field. Instead of pointing north, it would point to a building that I frequently visited. Interesting, but I lost interest after a few weeks for some reason.
I probably did not mention this, but I've had a broken elbow since last November (at least). It is not so painful as it is annoying. That means it has been broken for at least six months. That's not normal, is it? I went to Google to find out:
"Certain fractures in young kids can heal as quickly as 3 weeks, while it
may take as long as 6 weeks for the same kind of fracture to heal in
teens. And some fractures can take as long as 10 weeks to heal." - source
Surely this is not a professional source. I thought it took at least a month or two.
"Some tibial shaft fractures heal within 4 months, yet many may take 6 months or longer to heal." - source
Close enough. I'll take it.
Good night, everyone. Ha.
Tuesday, April 29, 2014
Sunday, April 27, 2014
Ctrl + F
4-28-2014 12:47AM
I was just handed the memory of a razor in this very room-- the farthest place from my bedroom. Scratch that. Two razors. One is to cut bags of salt, so it's rusted over. It won't do. The other is... Three. I could snap the letter opener in half to reveal the blade. The original one is a pocket knife whose case is broken, so I put it in the pen drawer.
I'm calling a hotline. If I publish a post that says I'm going to do something, then I'll do it before I begin to think of anything else. No time to check for typos.
I was just handed the memory of a razor in this very room-- the farthest place from my bedroom. Scratch that. Two razors. One is to cut bags of salt, so it's rusted over. It won't do. The other is... Three. I could snap the letter opener in half to reveal the blade. The original one is a pocket knife whose case is broken, so I put it in the pen drawer.
I'm calling a hotline. If I publish a post that says I'm going to do something, then I'll do it before I begin to think of anything else. No time to check for typos.
Sterylized Needles and My Voices
4-27-2014 11:58PM
The experiment is working. I can remember a few things. I am surprised at least once a day when my subconscious picks up a memory and I, without thinking, find it in my hands. A foreign feeling.
At this moment, however, I am very alone and I was just handed the memory of the exact location of a needle in my haystack of a room. I'm not sure if I've mentioned it or it was just implied, but my depression has lead to self harm before.
As illogical as it is, I think very hard before and during the event.
In the moment, I am worthless. I have hit a rock bottom. I have rediscovered or redefined internal pain. I am sure of this-- in that moment, I am worthless because it is my attitude that shapes my world.
Near this time, all of the good things that I know happened to me recently become hollow.
It might have to do with control. I am not sure.
As soon as I enter my room, I'll have already lost. And I need to sleep some time.
There's nothing left to say about that, so I'll try to make a list of all of the things the voices say while you try not to call the local exorcist on me. None of these voices is my (original) tulpa.
"Are you afraid?"
"Are you alright?"
"Are you okay?"
"Get out of my head."
"Get out of his head."
"Get out of her head."
"I don't know."
"It's alright."
"I'm not afraid of anything."
"I'm sorry."
"Kill me, please."
"Where are you?"
"Why are you so scared?"
"Why are you still here?"
"You're fine."
I cannot think of any more. Oh. Nevermind.
"Yes you can."
They tend to contradict everything I say. The poor fellows can't help but make me out to be a liar by their accusations. This may be connected to the way I think of every option I can, being unbiased, or overthink.
The voices do not take over or anything. We're very much harmless-- I've lost 5-10lbs this month and I nearly faint if I miss a meal. I even find it exhausting to open doors.
We covered cutting, not being able to feel anything, and voices already-- am I missing anything? Oh. I'm perfectly fine. I have a great life. I'm just more mentally calloused than the next.
Have a good night,
~Toggle & Co.
The experiment is working. I can remember a few things. I am surprised at least once a day when my subconscious picks up a memory and I, without thinking, find it in my hands. A foreign feeling.
At this moment, however, I am very alone and I was just handed the memory of the exact location of a needle in my haystack of a room. I'm not sure if I've mentioned it or it was just implied, but my depression has lead to self harm before.
As illogical as it is, I think very hard before and during the event.
In the moment, I am worthless. I have hit a rock bottom. I have rediscovered or redefined internal pain. I am sure of this-- in that moment, I am worthless because it is my attitude that shapes my world.
Near this time, all of the good things that I know happened to me recently become hollow.
It might have to do with control. I am not sure.
As soon as I enter my room, I'll have already lost. And I need to sleep some time.
There's nothing left to say about that, so I'll try to make a list of all of the things the voices say while you try not to call the local exorcist on me. None of these voices is my (original) tulpa.
"Are you afraid?"
"Are you alright?"
"Are you okay?"
"Get out of my head."
"Get out of his head."
"Get out of her head."
"I don't know."
"It's alright."
"I'm not afraid of anything."
"I'm sorry."
"Kill me, please."
"Where are you?"
"Why are you so scared?"
"Why are you still here?"
"You're fine."
I cannot think of any more. Oh. Nevermind.
"Yes you can."
They tend to contradict everything I say. The poor fellows can't help but make me out to be a liar by their accusations. This may be connected to the way I think of every option I can, being unbiased, or overthink.
The voices do not take over or anything. We're very much harmless-- I've lost 5-10lbs this month and I nearly faint if I miss a meal. I even find it exhausting to open doors.
We covered cutting, not being able to feel anything, and voices already-- am I missing anything? Oh. I'm perfectly fine. I have a great life. I'm just more mentally calloused than the next.
Have a good night,
~Toggle & Co.
Thursday, April 24, 2014
Ketosis and Shriveled Brain Cells
4-24-2014 11:15PM
A lot has happened in the time I've been gone. I still talk to my tulpa when my brain is functioning and I occasionally get feedback. This all started out as a way for me to get my memories back, so that's what I've been doing lately. I've changed my diet to exclude carbs and sugars. The keto diet. Life is a blurry dream to me, but I've noticed a few changes. I can remember my address and phone number of my childhood home. I started out at 135lbs and lost about 3lbs a week until I hit a wall at 125lbs. I basically lost 10lbs in a month, so I don't have that to worry about (yes, I still worry about ridiculous things).
Also interesting is that I am beginning to be able to write words in the air, rearrange the letters, and generally freak myself out more than usual.
A lot has happened in the time I've been gone. I still talk to my tulpa when my brain is functioning and I occasionally get feedback. This all started out as a way for me to get my memories back, so that's what I've been doing lately. I've changed my diet to exclude carbs and sugars. The keto diet. Life is a blurry dream to me, but I've noticed a few changes. I can remember my address and phone number of my childhood home. I started out at 135lbs and lost about 3lbs a week until I hit a wall at 125lbs. I basically lost 10lbs in a month, so I don't have that to worry about (yes, I still worry about ridiculous things).
Also interesting is that I am beginning to be able to write words in the air, rearrange the letters, and generally freak myself out more than usual.
Wednesday, January 16, 2013
164
Thursday, January 17, 2013, 2:41AM
Honestly, I had it.
I had a tulpa.
It was... how many weeks ago?
I was in the snow, just thinking. I had been narrating since that morning and it was a few hours before noon.
There's something calming about snow. Usually, it blinds me, but it must have been especially cloudy that day.
I could focus. I wasn't thinking about all the things that could go wrong. I didn't follow scenarios. I gave up on method and just did.
I took that day slow. Nothing was stressful. There was nothing to do and I was ready to be torn from my comfort zone and thrown into the unexpected and unscheduled.
Her voice wasn't how I rehearsed. It was one I had heard frequently in music and enjoyed. I must have grown attached to it.
I expected to be shocked from hearing the voice, but I was more shocked that something I worked at actually came through. I expected the voice to be louder.
I didn't doubt myself. The voice was real. Effortless and fast in its responses, but I had to remain in conversation or I felt that it would go away. After a few days, there was no more voice.
Honestly, I am in denial.
First it is denial. Then I am angry. Then I am at war. Then I want peace, so I leave it all behind me.
Honestly, I had it.
I had a tulpa.
It was... how many weeks ago?
I was in the snow, just thinking. I had been narrating since that morning and it was a few hours before noon.
There's something calming about snow. Usually, it blinds me, but it must have been especially cloudy that day.
I could focus. I wasn't thinking about all the things that could go wrong. I didn't follow scenarios. I gave up on method and just did.
I took that day slow. Nothing was stressful. There was nothing to do and I was ready to be torn from my comfort zone and thrown into the unexpected and unscheduled.
Her voice wasn't how I rehearsed. It was one I had heard frequently in music and enjoyed. I must have grown attached to it.
I expected to be shocked from hearing the voice, but I was more shocked that something I worked at actually came through. I expected the voice to be louder.
I didn't doubt myself. The voice was real. Effortless and fast in its responses, but I had to remain in conversation or I felt that it would go away. After a few days, there was no more voice.
Honestly, I am in denial.
First it is denial. Then I am angry. Then I am at war. Then I want peace, so I leave it all behind me.
Friday, November 30, 2012
163
I know that I usually begin my posts with a date in an unlogical order. I glance at the right hand corner and type what feels natural. This is an unconscious process, as in right now, I don't know what part of the date to type first.
Something in my head shouts, "Monday!" I know it is not Monday. It is Saturday. No. It's Friday still.
I suppose it is a good philosophy to just try something because one thing tends to lead to another.
I don't remember typing in any posts, but a few minutes ago, something in my head said, "Maybe you should talk about that in your blog." I don't remember what 'that' was, but it had to do with tulpae, doubt, and something else that I can't quite 'link to'.
Like I said, I can't remember typing any of these posts because of a sort of memory loss. I can't remember a lot, but I know about them. I know I have a blog, but I don't remember any posts and I don't remember typing any of them.
Friday, November 30, 2012, 9:07PM
I typed a D for December, only to correct myself.
It doesn't give me a creepy feeling or a surprised feeling, but more of the feeling you would get if you got well into your day and found that everyone believed in magic, cast spells, and had done so their entire lives. Everyone would be nonchalant about it as well. You would feel a little like you are still waking up. It would be like someone telling you something that you can understand, but you can't make sense of. Like it's on the tip of your ear. You would feel like going with the crowd. You would feel like trying to remember. You would be a little confused as to how you could have forgotten. You know that delay that is in between receiving information and making sense out of it? That delay is normally too short to notice, but now that you are stuck in that delay, you take in the sensation and you are suddenly filled in. Your perspective changes.
Now that I got sidetracked, I'll probably not post this because of the above paragraph.
Let's talk about tulpae.
Recently, I gave up on the entire tulpa project, more or less. More recently, however, I've felt a stronger connection to my tulpa's voice and perhaps presence (ASMR). Was it because the burden of 'needing' to create a tulpa was off my shoulders? Was it because I stumbled into forums about tulpae? Maybe it was just realizing that I'm not the terrible person I thought I was. I changed my perspective. Somehow. I know the feeling.
Evidently, my tulpa has been speaking to me. According to this source, one cannot parrot accidentally. If this is true, then... wow. It seems ridiculous to say: "I parroted accidentally." Using logical equivalences, it would be equivalent to "My tulpa spoke to me." I had so much doubt in myself. Really, my doubt was blinding.
What saved this project was that I tried. Even when I quit, I still could not let it go. I spoke to my tulpa casually because I didn't have anything more to lose. I may have listened less intensely. I may have done everything less intensely.
Something in my head shouts, "Monday!" I know it is not Monday. It is Saturday. No. It's Friday still.
I suppose it is a good philosophy to just try something because one thing tends to lead to another.
I don't remember typing in any posts, but a few minutes ago, something in my head said, "Maybe you should talk about that in your blog." I don't remember what 'that' was, but it had to do with tulpae, doubt, and something else that I can't quite 'link to'.
Like I said, I can't remember typing any of these posts because of a sort of memory loss. I can't remember a lot, but I know about them. I know I have a blog, but I don't remember any posts and I don't remember typing any of them.
Friday, November 30, 2012, 9:07PM
I typed a D for December, only to correct myself.
It doesn't give me a creepy feeling or a surprised feeling, but more of the feeling you would get if you got well into your day and found that everyone believed in magic, cast spells, and had done so their entire lives. Everyone would be nonchalant about it as well. You would feel a little like you are still waking up. It would be like someone telling you something that you can understand, but you can't make sense of. Like it's on the tip of your ear. You would feel like going with the crowd. You would feel like trying to remember. You would be a little confused as to how you could have forgotten. You know that delay that is in between receiving information and making sense out of it? That delay is normally too short to notice, but now that you are stuck in that delay, you take in the sensation and you are suddenly filled in. Your perspective changes.
Now that I got sidetracked, I'll probably not post this because of the above paragraph.
Let's talk about tulpae.
Recently, I gave up on the entire tulpa project, more or less. More recently, however, I've felt a stronger connection to my tulpa's voice and perhaps presence (ASMR). Was it because the burden of 'needing' to create a tulpa was off my shoulders? Was it because I stumbled into forums about tulpae? Maybe it was just realizing that I'm not the terrible person I thought I was. I changed my perspective. Somehow. I know the feeling.
Evidently, my tulpa has been speaking to me. According to this source, one cannot parrot accidentally. If this is true, then... wow. It seems ridiculous to say: "I parroted accidentally." Using logical equivalences, it would be equivalent to "My tulpa spoke to me." I had so much doubt in myself. Really, my doubt was blinding.
What saved this project was that I tried. Even when I quit, I still could not let it go. I spoke to my tulpa casually because I didn't have anything more to lose. I may have listened less intensely. I may have done everything less intensely.
Sunday, November 25, 2012
162
Sunday, November 25, 2012, 1:08PM
Everything has finally wound down. It appears that I've lost. I'll talk to you each day, my tulpa, but I won't expect to hear you. It was a good run. Maybe it was a warm-up. Sure. Let's call it that.
Part of me is disappointed. Part of me wants to keep fighting. Part of me is exhausted.
Another part of me doesn't want me to take a break, for fear of all progress being lost.
Another part of me is willing to forget the entire ordeal, only to be surprised one day of what could have been.
http://wintrovert.blogspot.com/2012/11/163.html
Everything has finally wound down. It appears that I've lost. I'll talk to you each day, my tulpa, but I won't expect to hear you. It was a good run. Maybe it was a warm-up. Sure. Let's call it that.
Part of me is disappointed. Part of me wants to keep fighting. Part of me is exhausted.
Another part of me doesn't want me to take a break, for fear of all progress being lost.
Another part of me is willing to forget the entire ordeal, only to be surprised one day of what could have been.
http://wintrovert.blogspot.com/2012/11/163.html
Tuesday, November 20, 2012
161
Tuesday, November 20, 2012, 2:59 AM
My tulpa isn't faring too well. I'm struggling to be motivated enough to keep it alive. Not dead yet.
http://wintrovert.blogspot.com/2012/11/162.html
My tulpa isn't faring too well. I'm struggling to be motivated enough to keep it alive. Not dead yet.
http://wintrovert.blogspot.com/2012/11/162.html
Sunday, November 11, 2012
160
Sunday, November 11, 2012, 7:41PM
I am still trying to narrate throughout the entire day as if talking to someone inside my head.
I am having more trouble each day.
http://wintrovert.blogspot.com/2012/11/161.html
I am still trying to narrate throughout the entire day as if talking to someone inside my head.
I am having more trouble each day.
http://wintrovert.blogspot.com/2012/11/161.html
Saturday, November 3, 2012
159
Saturday, October 3, 2012, 6:54PM
I am going to try constant narration. I am going to explain the world to someone who doesn't know what anything is.
http://wintrovert.blogspot.com/2012/11/160.html
I am going to try constant narration. I am going to explain the world to someone who doesn't know what anything is.
http://wintrovert.blogspot.com/2012/11/160.html
Monday, October 29, 2012
158
Monday, October 29, 2012, 9:53PM
One day, I will or won't have a tulpa and look back and think,
Why did I hang on?
I've been saying it all semester. One day, I'll have time and energy to do the things I want to do. Until then, I am strapped to the metal table with a light in my face and a funnel in my mouth.
http://wintrovert.blogspot.com/2012/11/159.html
One day, I will or won't have a tulpa and look back and think,
Why did I hang on?
I've been saying it all semester. One day, I'll have time and energy to do the things I want to do. Until then, I am strapped to the metal table with a light in my face and a funnel in my mouth.
http://wintrovert.blogspot.com/2012/11/159.html
Sunday, October 21, 2012
157
Monday, October 22, 2012, 1:45AM
Usually, I type a few paragraphs only to stuff it in a more personal journal and then replace the text wall with something that represents my mindset after I am mentally exhausted:
Giving up: I apologize to whomever spent any time with this endeavor. I can't let go of this, but it's dead.
Defiant: But I can't let my poor luck win. What would my tulpa say?
There are so many distractions, obligations, mental obstacles, needs to keep up with...
(Warning: Abstract)
Talking to my non-existant tulpa each day feels like it is the second time. I know that I have talked before, which is why I don't say first time. I cannot talk about my day because the knowledge I have of my day is like the knowledge I have of typing the previous sentence; I can describe how the letters got on the page due to logical cause and effect, but each letter is so insignificant in attachment and meaning to me that I cannot 'relive' it or derive any enjoyment from speaking of it.
My weekend flew by, despite talking about 'surviving the week until Friday'. I don't know what I did yesterday, therefore (by some definitions) it did not exist. However, the nauseous feeling of obligations still bubbles in my stomach from the week. The combination adds to this illusion. On the outside, life looks good. In reality, it is a nightmare. It is a nightmare to be tormented in this way because there seems to be nothing wrong to others.
http://wintrovert.blogspot.com/2012/10/158.html
Usually, I type a few paragraphs only to stuff it in a more personal journal and then replace the text wall with something that represents my mindset after I am mentally exhausted:
Giving up: I apologize to whomever spent any time with this endeavor. I can't let go of this, but it's dead.
Defiant: But I can't let my poor luck win. What would my tulpa say?
There are so many distractions, obligations, mental obstacles, needs to keep up with...
(Warning: Abstract)
Talking to my non-existant tulpa each day feels like it is the second time. I know that I have talked before, which is why I don't say first time. I cannot talk about my day because the knowledge I have of my day is like the knowledge I have of typing the previous sentence; I can describe how the letters got on the page due to logical cause and effect, but each letter is so insignificant in attachment and meaning to me that I cannot 'relive' it or derive any enjoyment from speaking of it.
My weekend flew by, despite talking about 'surviving the week until Friday'. I don't know what I did yesterday, therefore (by some definitions) it did not exist. However, the nauseous feeling of obligations still bubbles in my stomach from the week. The combination adds to this illusion. On the outside, life looks good. In reality, it is a nightmare. It is a nightmare to be tormented in this way because there seems to be nothing wrong to others.
http://wintrovert.blogspot.com/2012/10/158.html
Monday, October 15, 2012
156
Monday, October 15, 2012, 8:25PM
I'm not comfortable where I am at right now. That's good. I don't want to be comforted. I wouldn't do anything differently if I was comfortable. I want change.
http://wintrovert.blogspot.com/2012/10/157.html
I'm not comfortable where I am at right now. That's good. I don't want to be comforted. I wouldn't do anything differently if I was comfortable. I want change.
http://wintrovert.blogspot.com/2012/10/157.html
Saturday, October 6, 2012
155
Saturday, October 6, 2012, 3:28PM
Over the past few weeks, I have been trying to interpret myself in order to be better at problem-solving.
In other news, some day last week, I went to a college play. The next day, after complementing that friend on a job well done, I realized that it was a different person. After smooth-talking my way out of that one (something about telling her that I thought she designed the costumes... while acting very tired and, therefore, forgivable) I realized that I really could not recognize people-- people I have known for years-- very well. One and a half hours ago, I greeted someone at the theater entrance again for a Broadway dance show who turned out to be someone I knew last year and whose name I cannot seem to remember. I thought this person I greeted was one of my roommates.
In other news, the tulpa project is not going well due to poor time management on my part.
Progress: none
http://wintrovert.blogspot.com/2012/10/156.html
Over the past few weeks, I have been trying to interpret myself in order to be better at problem-solving.
In other news, some day last week, I went to a college play. The next day, after complementing that friend on a job well done, I realized that it was a different person. After smooth-talking my way out of that one (something about telling her that I thought she designed the costumes... while acting very tired and, therefore, forgivable) I realized that I really could not recognize people-- people I have known for years-- very well. One and a half hours ago, I greeted someone at the theater entrance again for a Broadway dance show who turned out to be someone I knew last year and whose name I cannot seem to remember. I thought this person I greeted was one of my roommates.
In other news, the tulpa project is not going well due to poor time management on my part.
Progress: none
http://wintrovert.blogspot.com/2012/10/156.html
Saturday, September 29, 2012
154
Sunday, September 30, 2012 2:37AM
I do not have an excuse to quit, as there are other things in my life I can sacrifice to spend at least an hour each day meditating.
Edit: Wow. The truth hurts.
Progress: None.
http://wintrovert.blogspot.com/2012/10/155_6.html
I do not have an excuse to quit, as there are other things in my life I can sacrifice to spend at least an hour each day meditating.
Edit: Wow. The truth hurts.
Progress: None.
http://wintrovert.blogspot.com/2012/10/155_6.html
Sunday, September 23, 2012
153
Sunday, September 23, 2012, 10:12PM
Disclaimer: If you haven't given up on me by now, I appreciate the gesture, but whatever the reason is for you staying, remember that I'm a bad investment. You wouldn't read something if you knew it would... you know what? I can't convince you. Convince yourself. Find a reason to stop reading these posts.
Some things should never be read. They will make you think what cannot be unthought.
I know a lot of what I say doesn't make sense to you right now, reader, but I usually have a reason. If I don't have a reason, at least I'm representing the truthful form of my mental composition at the time.
anyway...
I spoke to a friend this evening about sanity. What was said really changed my outlook on this tragic, beautiful situation. The conversation was long, so here's the conversation in a nutshell*:
There are three categories of insanity:
1: When someone loses their lifeline-- a lifeline being religion, a loved one, a way of life, or something else that is so important to that person that if it was gone, that person wouldn't know what to do or how to handle his/her world changing so drastically.
2: When someone is abused, such as being sleep deprived or subjected to horrors. Biological illnesses qualify, I think.
3: When someone thinks differently and is labeled that way.
This really hit home. I hope you get something out of this too, reader, but there was more. It was mentioned that people avoid thinking too hard about things because they don't want to fall into category #1 if they have a breakthrough. This is why people don't think deeply. This has to do with depression and loneliness, I believe, but I don't want to get sidetracked.
People in category #1 have lost love, money, prestige, and other valuables that can be molded like clay by others. These are the same people who gain murderous hatred, greed, and have their vision skewed by lust. People who can no longer control themselves. Untrained in the right automatic/instinctual processes and trained in the wrong ones.
Everything's connected.
*I speak this way because I sometimes record conversations if I think them to be important, the last one being the would-be conversation with a professor of psychology.
http://wintrovert.blogspot.com/2012/09/154.html
Disclaimer: If you haven't given up on me by now, I appreciate the gesture, but whatever the reason is for you staying, remember that I'm a bad investment. You wouldn't read something if you knew it would... you know what? I can't convince you. Convince yourself. Find a reason to stop reading these posts.
Some things should never be read. They will make you think what cannot be unthought.
I know a lot of what I say doesn't make sense to you right now, reader, but I usually have a reason. If I don't have a reason, at least I'm representing the truthful form of my mental composition at the time.
anyway...
I spoke to a friend this evening about sanity. What was said really changed my outlook on this tragic, beautiful situation. The conversation was long, so here's the conversation in a nutshell*:
There are three categories of insanity:
1: When someone loses their lifeline-- a lifeline being religion, a loved one, a way of life, or something else that is so important to that person that if it was gone, that person wouldn't know what to do or how to handle his/her world changing so drastically.
2: When someone is abused, such as being sleep deprived or subjected to horrors. Biological illnesses qualify, I think.
3: When someone thinks differently and is labeled that way.
This really hit home. I hope you get something out of this too, reader, but there was more. It was mentioned that people avoid thinking too hard about things because they don't want to fall into category #1 if they have a breakthrough. This is why people don't think deeply. This has to do with depression and loneliness, I believe, but I don't want to get sidetracked.
People in category #1 have lost love, money, prestige, and other valuables that can be molded like clay by others. These are the same people who gain murderous hatred, greed, and have their vision skewed by lust. People who can no longer control themselves. Untrained in the right automatic/instinctual processes and trained in the wrong ones.
Everything's connected.
*I speak this way because I sometimes record conversations if I think them to be important, the last one being the would-be conversation with a professor of psychology.
http://wintrovert.blogspot.com/2012/09/154.html
Monday, September 17, 2012
152
Monday, September 17, 2012, 4:28PM
Well, I haven't journaled for at least a week due to a combination of what life throws at me. I'm still talking to my pre-tulpa whenever possible, such as near-empty restaurants, when I'm alone in my room, or walking from class to class. I didn't want to do this, but I'm all about trust: I will try to only keep weekly updates from now on instead of being random. College takes up way too much time as it is, but I also have a lot to do these days. Also, if I set a goal for myself, then I'll remember easier.
I feel like I should make up for all the previously missed posts by making this post larger than a paragraph, but I don't have much to say. I'm frustrated because of my failures-- from not being able to create a tulpa before college started. Daymares are getting worse, but you probably already know that. I'm getting them in public more than I used to. I can cough a short time afterward or shake my hand as if I hurt it, but screaming aloud, transitioning from a daymare into reality while I am in an conversation, or muttering "get out of me" can't really be covered up.
I had a nightmare last night for a change: I was slipping on ice into a dark pit. I hate the cold. I'm tired all the time. My personality has changed for the worse-- I finally broke and I don't care about politeness anymore, which I am constantly fighting to fix. I am not doing as well as I want to in school (I am a perfectionist, so take this with a grain of salt). I know that college is not the right environment for tulpa-creation, but with these added variables, I don't see a tulpa being made any time soon. If I were my tulpa, I'd wait until I was thankful again.
Thankful: I'm thankful that I'm an interesting person... in a psychological perspective.
http://wintrovert.blogspot.com/2012/09/153.html
Well, I haven't journaled for at least a week due to a combination of what life throws at me. I'm still talking to my pre-tulpa whenever possible, such as near-empty restaurants, when I'm alone in my room, or walking from class to class. I didn't want to do this, but I'm all about trust: I will try to only keep weekly updates from now on instead of being random. College takes up way too much time as it is, but I also have a lot to do these days. Also, if I set a goal for myself, then I'll remember easier.
I feel like I should make up for all the previously missed posts by making this post larger than a paragraph, but I don't have much to say. I'm frustrated because of my failures-- from not being able to create a tulpa before college started. Daymares are getting worse, but you probably already know that. I'm getting them in public more than I used to. I can cough a short time afterward or shake my hand as if I hurt it, but screaming aloud, transitioning from a daymare into reality while I am in an conversation, or muttering "get out of me" can't really be covered up.
I had a nightmare last night for a change: I was slipping on ice into a dark pit. I hate the cold. I'm tired all the time. My personality has changed for the worse-- I finally broke and I don't care about politeness anymore, which I am constantly fighting to fix. I am not doing as well as I want to in school (I am a perfectionist, so take this with a grain of salt). I know that college is not the right environment for tulpa-creation, but with these added variables, I don't see a tulpa being made any time soon. If I were my tulpa, I'd wait until I was thankful again.
Thankful: I'm thankful that I'm an interesting person... in a psychological perspective.
http://wintrovert.blogspot.com/2012/09/153.html
Sunday, September 9, 2012
151
September 9, 2012, 9:17PM
No more communication, so take what you want from it. Perhaps one needs to be able to think simply to do this.
Anger. I've been so angry lately. This isn't me, is it? I can't control it. I blame chemical processes in my brain combined with frustrations of intellectual immobility.
If I were a tulpa, I'd stay dormant from me no matter how many apologies I heard.
I don't know what makes me say this, but life has taught me that progress is so fragile. Making a single mistake can remove so much progress. This is unforgiving, but this is my style. I don't know if I've said this, but I'm not used to getting what I want.
Progress: Nothing.
http://wintrovert.blogspot.com/2012/09/152.html
No more communication, so take what you want from it. Perhaps one needs to be able to think simply to do this.
Anger. I've been so angry lately. This isn't me, is it? I can't control it. I blame chemical processes in my brain combined with frustrations of intellectual immobility.
If I were a tulpa, I'd stay dormant from me no matter how many apologies I heard.
I don't know what makes me say this, but life has taught me that progress is so fragile. Making a single mistake can remove so much progress. This is unforgiving, but this is my style. I don't know if I've said this, but I'm not used to getting what I want.
Progress: Nothing.
http://wintrovert.blogspot.com/2012/09/152.html
Thursday, September 6, 2012
150
Thursday, September 6, 2012, 11:12PM
Still here, but going to tulpaforce due to unusual occurrence of free time.
Progress: Very promising signs of progress in communication.
http://wintrovert.blogspot.com/2012/09/151.html
Still here, but going to tulpaforce due to unusual occurrence of free time.
Progress: Very promising signs of progress in communication.
http://wintrovert.blogspot.com/2012/09/151.html
Tuesday, September 4, 2012
149
Wednesday, September 5, 2012, 1:04AM
It may have been mentioned that this writer enjoy the sensation of chills running down my spine, or ASMR, as it is officially called. Upon speaking to my tulpa, I tried to notice all sensations and ended up feeling rushes of ASMR. I hope this is my tulpa's method of communication. Got one again. I'll take that as a yes.
Also, if you want ASMR, it is often in the last sentence of short stories that are meant to elicit an emotional reaction. I plan on implementing the same strategy one day when I tell you a big secret that will blow your mind. If you're me and you're looking back at this journal, you will be impressed with your storytelling prowess.
If you want to feel ASMR, you have a good chance of feeling it when you have someone important to you whisper in your ear. It's the feeling that you know you are alive (or another person is alive). I have extreme empathy, so I guess this enhanced as well.
I told myself that I would stop being so skeptical. I told myself that I would start to actually take risks. I hope this helps anyone else who has been blind and stuck for months on end.
(Shivers rush down my back)
You remembered...
Of course
A long time ago, I think I told my tulpa (I'm fairly certain) that I enjoy the feeling.
Progress: ASMR communication? ASMR communication.
http://wintrovert.blogspot.com/2012/09/150_6.html
It may have been mentioned that this writer enjoy the sensation of chills running down my spine, or ASMR, as it is officially called. Upon speaking to my tulpa, I tried to notice all sensations and ended up feeling rushes of ASMR. I hope this is my tulpa's method of communication. Got one again. I'll take that as a yes.
Also, if you want ASMR, it is often in the last sentence of short stories that are meant to elicit an emotional reaction. I plan on implementing the same strategy one day when I tell you a big secret that will blow your mind. If you're me and you're looking back at this journal, you will be impressed with your storytelling prowess.
If you want to feel ASMR, you have a good chance of feeling it when you have someone important to you whisper in your ear. It's the feeling that you know you are alive (or another person is alive). I have extreme empathy, so I guess this enhanced as well.
I told myself that I would stop being so skeptical. I told myself that I would start to actually take risks. I hope this helps anyone else who has been blind and stuck for months on end.
(Shivers rush down my back)
You remembered...
Of course
A long time ago, I think I told my tulpa (I'm fairly certain) that I enjoy the feeling.
Progress: ASMR communication? ASMR communication.
http://wintrovert.blogspot.com/2012/09/150_6.html
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