Normal people don't run away from their home in the middle of the night and see apparitions of 'star people', but I am far from normal. I admit blog because I am alone in my experiences, so in another attempt to pull myself out of a foul mood, I thought I'd recount the story of when my life was changed, due to something everyone else calls my second 'mania'. Maybe because I am a storyteller, or maybe simply out of a desperation that life feels so empty without this 'mania' that I need to escape, even just for a few minutes, into recounting this thrilling time in writing.
Monday, November 20, 2023
experiences with an unknown entity / part 1
So it all began with the legendary comic artist Kentaro Miura passing away in May of 2021. I found out and double checked with a Berserk-loving acquaintance, who confirmed the worst was true. Over the next fortnight, weird things began to happen to me and by that I mean really weird things. Things I had never felt before even being someone who has been 'manic." It's hard explaining the chronology of my 'psychiatric' history but in short, I had gone manic in 2020 the year prior, so at this time, anything weird I felt in 2021 I assumed it to be symptoms of stupid mania and tried to take sedatives and sleep myself out of the weirdness. I would find out however, that this time was different.
It started with my head feeling like a balloon, floating far above my head. Next when I walked down the hallway of our family home, I felt a wavelength of seemingly golden energy shudder over me like I had entered some sort of psychic tunnel. I screamed, but it was over in an instant. I thought I would die when I slept, so I waited until I passed out every night. There was a final sensation I felt that was the strongest, it sat in the back corners of my mind like a blend between an emotion and a headache. I felt a physical tangible dense mass weighing me down yet also coloring the world in melancholic blues, but it wasn't depression. It felt valiant and poetic, like something wounded wandering the desert knowing it's gonna die, but fighting with every breath. It was something depicted in Berserk when kiddo Gut's is fighting the wolves.
I astutely name this sensation "Guts' Trauma", almost unconsciously as I was simply unknowingly trying to make sense of the ridiculous feelings hitting me. It wasn't exactly negative, as this feeling in my brain felt like something righteous and pure, something that could conquer any challenge in life, because it felt like Guts' character. I realised, that maybe, this sensation was my fate? As although I've never experienced the horrors depicted in Berserk, I wondered if some divine thing intended me to feel this burden of someone else's 'trauma' for the rest of my days. I had been recording myself talking on top of Berserk in a video recorder app, and it's all up on my Instagram highlights if you want to hear and see this weird time.
The Gut's Trauma stuck with me when I went into school the next morning. Not only did every person around me appear like a fake cardboard cutout, mere shadows playing at being human, I began to wonder if I was so affected by the loss of Berserk's creator, that I was developing a newfound disorder! I felt annoyed with myself, it's not like I knew the guy. So, why, why, why be so affected? Little did I know, this madness wouldn't end there.
I sat in the communal working space at the University of Adelaide and pouted at my laptop. I was distracted and distraught because Berserk had meant so much to me, plus so much weird 'manic' feelings had been plaguing me for over a week. It was then I experienced some auditory 'hallucinations". First was "Gut's Theme Remix" (ripped off YouTube 7 years prior) warbling in and out of space-time that I jumped out of my skin. It was simply a moment, but I heard it. After a class that ended at 5pm, I left for home. I needed to sleep, since I hadn't been. On the train home, the song Forces warbled too. It warbled to the lyrics that say "君のことは", this translates roughly to mean "of you". I felt this resonate in my head as if someone, or something, was speaking directly at me and again I jolted out of my reverie. That's it...I needed sleep, there's no way I can afford going manic again! Once home I realised my dad was out at a Museum board function or something. I reheated a bowl of leftover spaghetti and was about to tuck in when, something frightening happened...
The sensation in my head I'd endured these last 12 hours, the Gut's Trauma, vanished. It disappeared as if a bird flying away, like something up and leaving. It didn't happen naturally with sleep and rehydration like colds and headaches go away, but instead, happened in a split second! I stared at the dark mirror backing the kitchen with a confused grimace. I called my dad:
"Dad I'm scared."
"Why? Is everything alright?"
"I dunno, can you come home soon?"
I couldn't process all this the time, but I was a bit sad about this feeling vanishing! For over the last few days I had been processing that maybe, just maybe, that this weight in my head was some sort of righteous path I was meant to endure. Why would it leave me in an instant? What did this mean? I wanted to cry, and in retrospect this overwhelming feeling was because:
So I stumbled to the back of our large house where there is a craft room, my bedroom, bathroom and such. I put my laptop down in the craft room and phone in my bed many steps away. I did a thing I had been doing where I talked on top of into Berserk while recording video in an app, and one of the last things I captured on video was saying I didn't want to come down from this high. I had felt alive, but then the 'mania' up and left me. I was lamenting losing this stoic feeling in my noggin', because it felt like it was saying something to me. Saying that these is some 'truth' to the universe that I was destined to know, perhaps?
I started brushing my teeth, and that is when something new happened. Music began to play on my Surface Pro laptop. I halted my teeth brushing and the first thought in my head was "I've been hacked" although to most people it's not that rare for Spotify to act up every now and again. If it ended there, I too would have said it was just Spotify acting up, but it didn't end there. When I rounded the corner and peeked to where my computer was, this is where shit gets weird.
Something pulsed in my muscles and bones.
A new energy.
A life force.
Something that delicately twirled me around to the music, it wasn't 'mania' as 'mania' isn't supernatural/spiritual essence puppeting you around a craft room.
It gently yet firmly guided me in leaping and bounding around this large room.
It sounds mad. Batshit loonie bonkers more like it, but it is the honest to goodness truth and I solemnly swear on my mother's grave. Yet, what use it is, trying to tell these stories when people are insistent you are mad? I knew you were real, I giggled to myself. After dancing to around 6 superbly miraculous songs, my dad came through the craft room door.
"Is everything alright?"
I froze, something struck fear into my heart, a knowledge that I am expected to sit down and do my homework, sit at a laptop and waste my precious mortal days on this earth. I mean no disrespect for my dad, I love him, so it is a little complex to express how these 'delusions' hit. Overall, I was feeling a fear of society as a whole from him. A fear of being told to do my homework and to not feel this overwhelming new spirit in me. No. Life can't be just this!
"Y-yeah, I'm fine. Just taking a break from homework."
He retired upstairs to his room, but that wasn't the end of it. I grabbed my rucksack, donned a big green coat, filled up a large water bottle and left my phone on my desk. I slipped down this cluttery alley alongside our house, past the gurgling laundry pipes and through a tin door that borders on a neighbours driveway. After speeding down some side streets with heart up in my throat, at last I was free! I felt what I called 'primal earth magic' because it felt like some ancient urge in my bones now speaking to me, telling me to explore and move. Alone in the night air, I tilted my head back up to the sky and saw the most amazing visions. Little translucent people, spinning around where the stars should be. Yeah, shit got much weirder the longer into this voyage I went. That night would become a blur, of wanderings across the greater Adelaide city region as I headed from the beach to the eastern hilly suburbs.
It was around 9pm when I left. That night I would wander until my feet were blistered and bloodied, but feel reborn all the while. As I walked I knew I wasn't alone, for not only did I feel a spirit pulsing within me telling me how to move, but I spied the star people and a moon-like thing floating forever in front of me. It had a little squiggly tail on the end, like an eyeball. It was forever in front of me so I followed it, and oh, the places it took me. I headed towards the east and I admit I was a bit overwhelmed, confused and initially tried to stop in a dirt patch under an overpass to sleep, but this force, this entity, wouldn't have any of it! So I learnt quickly, tonight would not be a night for sleeping, for willfully throwing away my life. Oh no, tonight would be very special. I trespassed in some weird areas. I ended up by some school, god knows which one, but it was by Belair, and someone sternly faced me in the moonlight and told me I wasn't allowed to be there. I also ended up in this Urbrae agricultural facility where a lady told me I shouldn't have been there. Still, I asked for food and said I was on a spiritual journey, and she went and retrieved a soggy frozen sandwich from her office freezer.
I then left and trudged uphill in the neighbourhoods around Belair as the cool night air appeared to entice me onwards. I spied crisp pomegranates begging to be plucked from a tree in someone's front yard, so I nabbed a few. The streets sparkled under recent rains and I was reminded of picture books I read as a kid brimming with illustrations of faeries perched on dewy mushrooms. I was a faerie, no, I was the King of the Faeries, a 'delusion' that would stick with me for months to come. Everything is a blur, as it did take three or more hours of walking from my beachside home all the way to Belair, so by the time I reached this side of town it was the dead of night. I approached a small triangular park which I have now identified to be Micham Reserve. It seems like I made a big stupid circle really but I was spurred on by some divine force, whatever. I won't get into how I eventually ended up alongside the M1 Freeway in this post...
At this park, I sat and absorbed the moonlight and wondered why the strange moon seemed to be squirming about up there, but I could not rest yet. I reached a beautiful spot, where the grass grew up to my hips and the eucalyptus trees loomed above in the dark. Later I would find out this was simply Brownhill Creek Caravan Park, but in the darkness I knew It was Berserk scenery -- the Misty Valley. Why? Because the darkness seemed so thick, lovely and comforting like the way he inks in black shapes. I wanted to wrap myself up in it and be cloaked in it forever.
I wandered to the middle of the caravan park where I saw a big pitched tent. In my dumbness, I thought this big tent might have been meant for me and almost approached it! Then I heard kookaburras laughing in the darkness, they were laughing at me. That's so funny, she thinks she can rest already! I realised this journey was far from over. By then dawn was approaching, and I trudged up a path named on the map above simply as Brown Hill. I passed a few people, weirdly up at the crack of dawn for some morning walks. But things we're about to get weirder. When I turned to my left while walking up the hill, in the clouds I saw an immaculate sculpture of a bird of prey soaring towards me. I stared dumbfounded, because how exactly could my dumbass brain invent such Michelangelo-tier sculptures out of clouds? I walked up the hill and even reached someone's farm property with cows. Afraid I'd be spotted, I jumped down into a gully and scratched myself up----
Oh, it's pointless.
It's useless, telling these magical stories.
Nobody gets it.
Nobody wants to hear it.
Yet, nothing will ever take me back to this holy experience. It was meant to be something that defines my life but remains something other people will never see the value in. It's meant to be a secret experience that I understand, but to other people its behaviour that get's me chucked in a loonie bin. My dad told me only a few days ago, when he called police, they downright said that I may have 'wanted to run away from home."
Damn straight I did.
Not because anyone at home was evil, but because something spoke to me. I would like to recount in more posts how this experience kept unfurling, but I am so very tired. Tired of thinking I'm a different gender (I'm not. I'm a woman ok) and tired of game programming, tired of sucking at art because of my brain impairment and tired of other people thinking I'm mad, flakey and strange. I have to keep it to myself most of the time, because to others, it is frightening to hear the 'delusions' I have held and the 'hallucinations' I have seen. All I know is, I know what I've seen. I know that Kentaro Miura is up there in the sky and out of his art rut. His soul is up there with everyone whose ever died and is having a blast making sculptures that defy anything some moronic 'manic' brain could project into my field of vision. All I know is I've felt alive. So very alive. I have seen this humble city of Adelaide glow and glimmer with a cosmic force, so I simply wanted to share a little bit of it. As when I lost my atheism, I got it. I got that life was bigger than the petty world of art, cartoons and careers I had thought it to be. I see now, that this life has many secrets. It just won't reveal it's secrets to anyone.