Continuing the piecing together of my trip to the Underworld (aka the deepest, darkest places of the psyche), I will go through the notes I made while in that state and try to elaborate on their meaning and the feelings I was experiencing at the time. This post deals mostly with the physical manifestations of hell.
***If you are confused, please read the first part of the series Letters from Hell – Part I (Waking Darkness)***
I’ve kept the original bullet notes and then expanded on the idea below.
Pretty self-explanatory. It was as if I had been working every muscle of my body to the max and finally sat down for a rest and each of them exacted revenge. I felt muscles I didn’t even know I had. Any type of movement was painful. I felt 100 years old.
- food poisoning or lack of appetite
I couldn’t eat anything. Food made me want to vomit or sometimes actually made me vomit. I couldn’t keep anything down for long.
- food is gross
Along the same lines as above. All tastes were disgusting. I had to force feed myself. Mostly ate soups during this time. Quick, easy and warm.
- smells make me want to vomit
This was one of the hardest parts. I couldn’t walk anywhere without smelling things that would set off my gag reflex. It was like I was smelling the world for the first time and it was gross.
- I can feel my organs functioning and moving
One of the trippy parts of the process. I sometimes still can feel this, but it was almost surreal. I could feel everything working; food digesting, heart beating, lungs taking in air, intestines, liver, bladder, etc. Every little thing they did, I could feel it. It was like I could track everything entering my body through its journey out again.
- massage has made the aches worse
If your body stores toxins over time, then these massages were like bombs going off in my body. I was already feeling everything at a heightened level, so massages were extra intense. My body was finally letting go of all the negative energy I had stored for my entire life. It was AWFUL!!!!
- constant bathing in what now is a broth of various minerals – stewing myself
A combination of Epsom Salts (2 cups) and baking soda (1/2 cup) was my recipe for a toxin sucking bath. I basically took one of these baths 1-2 times per day for about 1-2 hours each. The very first time I did I nearly had a panic attack. I could feel the toxins being purged from my body. It was overwhelming. I was terrified. It was like being attacked. I had held so tightly to them, they had become part of my genetic make-up and now they were escaping. I was crying, hyperventilating and shaking. I had to focus really hard to talk myself down. I had to keep repeating “it’s okay, let it go” over and over. I had to surrender. Eventually, it felt good, but that first time, it was so scary. I could barely take it. I almost jumped right out of the tub. Lots of weird revelations happened in the tub. It was the only place I could breathe properly. I think the baths were the main thing that got me through this time.
- so tired! Everything is too much
Well, the baths and naps. I slept ALL the time. Pretty much if I didn’t have to be awake, I wasn’t… or was in the bath. I barely ate, but I barely moved, so I figured it was all good. I would sleep between 14-16 hours a night and take 2 hour naps whenever possible. I didn’t see anyone. I barely talked to anyone. I would have felt bad, if I wasn’t overwhelmed by emotion in every waking moment. I didn’t have the capacity to give a single fuck about what anyone else thought. Life was just the time between sleep. And boy, did I ever sleep hard!!
Having distance from this time, it has been great to be reminded of the lessons I learned. I never thought it was possible, but I sometimes miss the absolute lack of caring what anyone else in the world thought about me. It was such a unique state of being. Just the ability to feel every emotion, so intensely, so consistently. It was amazing. Though, memories are always coloured by time. I also remember going to group therapy and trying to convince everyone to quit while they were ahead because it was too much to experience. I never thought it would end. I knew it would, but I didn’t have the energy to care either way. It was all encompassing. I didn’t care whether I lived or died. Death didn’t offer the sweet release I once thought it would. I remember breaking down sobbing naked on my bathroom floor after a bath because I realized that even suicide wouldn’t free me from these feelings. They were ingrained in my very being and death would mean that that energy was just transferred to my next state and I would have to deal with it then. The only option left was to keep going through, until… until whatever was, was.
(UPDATE: Part III can be found here.)
(As a prelude, check out Rip Me Out)