Tuesday 14th July 2020 @02:20 – I am paint, the being of paint!
As I sit here in bed writing this, now that I am trying to put the experience into words, it seems totally ridiculous, but I will try, what I am about to describe is an example of a repeating experience I have at night and often during the day, while half asleep and sort of day dreaming I find myself imagining being something else and having a surreal experience, tonight it was being paint – A pot of paint, but not the pot, just the paint within the pot, and not just the idea or imagining the experience actually feeling the experience of being paint conscious self-aware paint, being the story and the story teller, guiding the path of the experience and having the experience, feeling bounded within the pot, but not knowing it was a pot or being able to fully comprehend the shape, as I am both the totality of the paint and each bit of the paint, moving but not moving just the shifting of my awareness within the paint that is in the pot, the story moves on and I the narrator move it, to experiencing the brush as it penetrates my surface and I the paint then become coated to the brush as well as still experiencing being the paint in the pot I am both but together part of the same but different experiences and as the brush is lifted I experience simultaneously being moved up out and away from myself and going down as the level of the paint goes down in the pot, as the brush completely lifts away, I feel the separation and the fallback I am both but now separate, complete as either fully aware of both experiences, moving through space both excited and scared a new experience not knowing where I am or going and leaving behind that which I was and also still am, I now touch something flat and different from my previous experience yet similar like the walls of the pot vertical I stick to this surface and feel another separation from that which I am on the brush, so now I am 3 the paint I n the pot on the brush and now the wall, being on the wall is like the brush, unsafe clinging but not secure not contained like in the pot, I can move and am moving over myself and on the wall another stroke of the brush and the same experience of separation, but not the same, for an instant a moment I am four then just three again as I move from the brush and become part of the paint on the wall, but there is more I am also the observer the painter and the wall and the brush I experience it all and the story teller, the controller the narrator I am speaking the actions and having the experience, the director and the directed, now I am also me that which is having this experience I am lying across my bed not in it my feet are hanging over the side, now aware of me, what am I doing I need a pee!
I don’t think I have or could fully express the intensity of the experience, I think I know why I was paint, today IO went to B&Q to get some colour match paint for my kitchen to paint some small areas that are exposed and not coloured such as around the fridge freezer and the cut ends of the kick board and a couple of small chips near the oven, I wasn’t feeling too good but I went anyway and while there it felt like part of my consciousness moved into the paint while I was watching it being mixed!
I have these kind of what I imagine could be similar to psychedelic experiences but without any drugs, whenever I have over done things and ME symptoms return, it feels like I become something else, previous experiences include being sound, or being green is a common one which I experience at Tesco and find difficult as it is often accompanied by feeling sick and disoriented, similar to a migraine.
I’ve had a lot more of these experiences recently, mainly I think because my routine has changed and I am doing less exercise, not having protein shakes and doing quite a lot of physical activity doing my kitchen, these experiences also come at the transition between being ok and being completely fucked (unable to do anything just sleep)
My thinking about everything and anything is also messed during this time and I usually avoid any interaction with other people and try not to make any decisions, as decision making is very difficult during this time, as I feel I have not stability on which to rely I cannot trust anything especially myself and my thinking process, I guess this is the same as being mentally ill. I am also easily agitated, and frustrated, as I find it difficult to understand things and escape looping (repetitive and pointless thinking) about anything and everything.
@08:26 So now I am up and just back from taking the car to have an oil change and engine service, still not great, I was apprehensive on my journey there thinking about what if the courtesy car is unavailable, I will struggle with coping with getting a taxi, especially if the guy wants to talk or I have to give directions, that will simply be too much for me right now, but all was well it took less than 1 minute to drop the car off and get the courtesy car. For those people who know me, the idea that this would be a concern to me is probably unexpected, and they are right most of the time it isn’t I wouldn’t think about such trivial things.
I just stopped writing as the microwave pinged and I took the porridge out to mix it, and for a moment, while standing there looking down into the bowl, I became the porridge, not very pleasant, made me feel sick and disoriented, of course I didn’t actually become the porridge, it just felt like I did, and the disorientation and sick feeling is because of the sense of movement from me to the porridge and back again! Just writing this and r-reading it is bringing back the same sensation of disorientation.
Thinking back to writing about the experience of being paint earlier, I didn’t actually write about the original experience, that was gone and no longer fully available to me, instead I wrote about reliving the experience by the remembering of the “Being Paint” experience, and now I realise I left something significant out, from the original, the transition from being the paint to back to being me, during the whole experience I was vaguely aware of me, moving about first in the bed and then laying outside and across, with my feet out one side, I was the paint in the pot, the paint on the brush, the paint on the wall, and then I was also the paint dripping of the brush and onto the floor and also the paint on the bottom of a shoe, being moved around, being all those different paints became too much, and that was the point at which all those awareness’s disappeared and I was fully back to just being me!
I am not writing this to illicit sympathy or even expecting understanding, often I don’t understand it, and I’m experiencing it, just an attempt to convey, how different it sometimes is, being me or is that M.E. or just me with M.E.
This writing was inspired by a comment at the meetup group “who am I” zoom meeting last night on the topic of “Is How You Are Inside Mirrored Out Into The World” Karen said something like “I now practices embracing and exploring the feelings and experiences that happen to her” and I had not been doing that with these type of experiences I had just been trying to get through them and not thinking about them and definite not talking to anybody about them, they were just something to be endured, so thank you Karen.
So in conclusion, how I am inside is most definitely not mirrored out into the world, until now!