Navigating the Line Between Disillusion and Depression
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Prompt: To me it feels like there is an important distinction between depression and disillusion. To some I appear to be depressed. The suggested helpful advice is good advice for those who are depressed. I listen, nod, and give scripted responses. Many tactics can help lift the mind out of depression, but they don't seem to have a similar effect on disillusionment. I am not sad or suffering from a chemical imbalance. I am struggling with grasping the triviality of most things in life. I am still doing what is expected. No responsibility is unfulfilled. I merely seem depressed because as I perform my roll, I cannot feign enthusiasm for pushing my boulder up the hill knowing it will roll back down. Over. And over. Forever.
Prompt: The seventh angel poured out his bowl into the air, and out of the temple came a loud voice from the throne, saying, “It is done!” Then there came flashes of lightning, rumblings, peals of thunder and a severe earthquake. No earthquake like it has ever occurred since mankind has been on earth, so tremendous was the quake. The great city split into three parts, and the cities of the nations collapsed. God remembered Babylon the Great and gave her the cup filled with the wine of the fury of his wrath. Every island fled away and the mountains could not be found. From the sky huge hailstones, each weighing about a hundred pounds, fell on people. And they cursed God on account of the plague of hail, because the plague was so terrible.
Prompt: I am learning that I am not actually forgetful. Instead, it appears I am one of few people who truly remembers things. Through notes, videos, writings, I can confirm the past is as I remember it, and I remember it vividly. When talking to others, they seem to have a general and common misunderstanding of events. A rolling amnesia. Proving myself correct holds little value and changes no minds. What felt like intentional gas lighting now seems to be a genuine forgetfulness of reality, and adamant adhere to it. In the end, it leaves me feeling insane. Alone in a world, where I can prove what I'm saying, but am generally dismissed by all. Even if I were to get this message to someone, because I have at times with several individuals, by the next day they remember only the vaguest idea of it. A few days go by. Then nothing at all. I remain utterly alone. With the burden of being aware of it.
Prompt: How can one ever tell if their depression is rational, or if it is the product of an event, or just a chemical imbalance? Is there really any difference? After years of work with a psychologist and psychiatrist, it appears that my moods have very little to do with reality unfolding around me. Not to say it is all chemical and without cause. That is part of it. Another part of it is that I am more likely to be affected by dreams, irrational day dreams, or ruminating on hypothetical things than I am to be affected by reality. While it is good to learn about myself, it makes me feel like few can relate. Indeed, the explanation is never met with understanding.
Prompt: The locusts looked like horses prepared for battle. On their heads they wore something like crowns of gold, and their faces resembled human faces. Their hair was like women's hair, and their teeth were like lions' teeth. They had breastplates like breastplates of iron, and the sound of their wings was like the thundering of many horses and chariots rushing into battle. They had tails and stings like scorpions, and in their tails they had power to torment people for five months. They had as king over them the angel of the Abyss, whose name in Hebrew is Abaddon, and in Greek, Apollyon.
Prompt: Acclimation to pain and discomfort comes with time. The pain and discomfort are still real, and still seem to feel the same. The only change is your response both physically and mentally. When someone handles stress poorly or very well, either will make me wonder what level of familiarity that person has with stress. I don't think assumptions are good idea, but background consideration may be. Are they handling things well? Or have they had the burden of having to learn how to mask their emotional response due to overexposure?
Prompt: Sometimes in life we feel the weight of the entire world on our shoulders. Then, we eventually realize that no one put it there. We took it all because we did not trust anyone. So, we became angry with a burden that no one asked us to bear. And we will do it again.
Prompt: I find some solace in reading old philosophy. Perhaps it is a form of coping. My perception is not by any means unique, nor something new to our generation. It just is something that some experience. Some people are burdened with curiosity and question life until they open a door they cannot close. It is irrelevant to time, language, or location.
Prompt: Then I saw another mighty angel coming down from heaven. He was robed in a cloud, with a rainbow above his head; his face was like the sun, and his legs were like fiery pillars. He was holding a little scroll, which lay open in his hand. He planted his right foot on the sea and his left foot on the land, and he gave a loud shout like the roar of a lion. When he shouted, the voices of the seven thunders spoke. And when the seven thunders spoke, I was about to write; but I heard a voice from heaven say, “Seal up what the seven thunders have said and do not write it down.” Then the angel I had seen standing on the sea and on the land raised his right hand to heaven. And he swore by him who lives for ever and ever, who created the heavens and all that is in them, the earth and all that is in it, and the sea and all that is in it, and said, “There will be no more delay! But in the days when the seventh angel is about to sound his trumpet, the mystery of God will be accomplished, just as he announced to his servants the prophets.” Then the voice that I had heard from heaven spoke to me once more: “Go, take the scroll that lies open in the hand of the angel who is standing on the sea and on the land.” So I went to the angel and asked him to give me the little scroll. He said to me, “Take it and eat it. It will turn your stomach sour, but ‘in your mouth it will be as sweet as honey.” I took the little scroll from the angel’s hand and ate it. It tasted as sweet as honey in my mouth, but when I had eaten it, my stomach turned sour. Then I was told, “You must prophesy again about many peoples, nations, languages and kings.”
Prompt: The fifth angel poured out his bowl on the throne of the beast, and its kingdom was plunged into darkness. People gnawed their tongues in agony and cursed the God of heaven because of their pains and their sores, but they refused to repent of what they had done.
Prompt: Today I am overwhelmed by the feeling, and evidence, that I am a statistical outlier. That is not a comment on whether it is good or bad. Only that I am experiencing the existential stress of feeling like there is no where I necessarily belong or fit neatly. That is less about solely what goes on in my mind, but about how I behave. The things I choose to do. The pursuits that captivate me. There are pros and cons, for sure. But it is very lonely. Perhaps it is why my mind is so tenuously connected to reality. It is just one of those days where I may be "here," but I sure don't feel like it.
Prompt: It has been said, "if you gaze long enough into an abyss, the abyss will gaze back into you." If you scream into the abyss, can anything other than an echo come back? "He who fights with monsters should be careful lest he thereby becomes a monster." In a similar sense, as I struggle to be understood, am I losing the ability to understand others?
Prompt: And I saw an angel coming down out of heaven, having the key to the Abyss and holding in his hand a great chain. He seized the dragon, that ancient serpent, who is the devil, or Satan, and bound him for a thousand years. He threw him into the Abyss, and locked and sealed it over him, to keep him from deceiving the nations anymore until the thousand years were ended. After that, he must be set free for a short time.
Prompt: The third angel poured out his bowl on the rivers and springs of water, and they became blood. Then I heard the angel in charge of the waters say: “You are just in these judgments, O Holy One, you who are and who were; for they have shed the blood of your holy people and your prophets, and you have given them blood to drink as they deserve.” And I heard the altar respond: “Yes, Lord God Almighty, true and just are your judgments.”
Prompt: The picture is of Locusts. Those locusts looked like horses prepared for battle. On the locust's heads they wore something like crowns of gold. The locust's faces resembled human faces. The locust's hair was like women's hair. The locust's teeth were like lions' teeth. The locusts had breastplates like breastplates of iron. The sound of the locust's wings was like the thundering of many horses and chariots rushing into battle. The locusts had tails and stings like scorpions, and in those tails they had power to torment people for five months. Include a separate entity that the locusts had as king over them "the Angel of the Abyss", whose name in Hebrew is "אֲבַדּוֹן", and in Greek, "Ἀπολλύων".
Prompt: The cyclic low of cyclothymic disorder seems to be in effect the last few days. Inexplicable fatigue, depression, and irritation are permeating all of my interactions, although I try to contain it. I feel as if I will have no passion, nor joy ever again. I know this is not real, and it will pass. That does not diminish how real this feels. Every movement of my muscles feels like I'm held back, as if I were trying to move under water. I have to just keep pushing myself forward without any motivation or will to do so. In a day or two, all will be fine again.
Prompt: Difficult situations in life seem to disorient me. I find myself wandering around in my garage. Picking things up and putting them down. Like my body is trying to stay busy, but can't think clearly enough to complete a task. It is a strange response.
Prompt: I am on a life long quest for answers. I carry the weight of knowing I will never have all the answers I seek. Clothed with the ambivalence of knowing that if I did somehow find those answers, they would only beget another question.
Prompt: Overwhelmed. The water rises up. No sign it will cease or subside. Success is not optional, so we must endure and continue. The rising tide causes more pressure and stress, but there is no line in which it could become so great that the deluge ends. Or responsibility ends, rather. So, just keep swimming. You are not allowed to fail.
Prompt: I am learning that I am not actually forgetful. Instead, it appears I am one of few people who truly remembers things. Through notes, videos, writings, I can confirm the past is as I remember it, and I remember it vividly. When talking to others, they seem to have a general and common misunderstanding of events. A rolling amnesia. Proving myself correct holds little value and changes no minds. What felt like intentional gas lighting now seems to be a genuine forgetfulness of reality, and adamant adhere to it. In the end, it leaves me feeling insane. Alone in a world, where I can prove what I'm saying, but am generally dismissed by all. Even if I were to get this message to someone, because I have at times with several individuals, by the next day they remember only the vaguest idea of it. A few days go by. Then nothing at all. I remain utterly alone. With the burden of being aware of it.
Prompt: The fourth angel sounded his trumpet, and a third of the sun was struck, a third of the moon, and a third of the stars, so that a third of them turned dark. A third of the day was without light, and also a third of the night.
Prompt: I looked, and I saw a windstorm coming out of the north—an immense cloud with flashing lightning and surrounded by brilliant light. The center of the fire looked like glowing metal, and in the fire was what looked like four living creatures. In appearance their form was human, but each of them had four faces and four wings. Their legs were straight; their feet were like those of a calf and gleamed like burnished bronze. Under their wings on their four sides they had human hands. All four of them had faces and wings, and the wings of one touched the wings of another. Each one went straight ahead; they did not turn as they moved. Their faces looked like this: Each of the four had the face of a human being, and on the right side each had the face of a lion, and on the left the face of an ox; each also had the face of an eagle. Such were their faces. They each had two wings spreading out upward, each wing touching that of the creature on either side; and each had two other wings covering its body. The appearance of the living creatures was like burning coals of fire or like torches. Fire moved back and forth among the creatures; it was bright, and lightning flashed out of it.
Prompt: However, I have noticed that the senses are sometimes deceptive; and it is a mark of prudence never to place our complete trust in those who have deceived us even once.
Prompt: To me it feels like there is an important distinction between depression and disillusion. To some I appear to be depressed. The suggested helpful advice is good advice for those who are depressed. I listen, nod, and give scripted responses. Many tactics can help lift the mind out of depression, but they don't seem to have a similar effect on disillusionment. I am not sad or suffering from a chemical imbalance. I am struggling with grasping the triviality of most things in life. I am still doing what is expected. No responsibility is unfulfilled. I merely seem depressed because as I perform my roll, I cannot feign enthusiasm for pushing my boulder up the hill knowing it will roll back down. Over. And over. Forever.
Prompt: After many days feeling wonderful, I now find myself withering away in the embrace of despair. Sometimes the decent is gentle. This time it was not. The rapid change from optimism to existential nihilism is unsettling. However, it is no stranger here.
Prompt: The cyclic low of cyclothymic disorder seems to be in effect the last few days. Inexplicable fatigue, depression, and irritation are permeating all of my interactions, although I try to contain it. I feel as if I will have no passion, nor joy ever again. I know this is not real, and it will pass. That does not diminish how real this feels. Every movement of my muscles feels like I'm held back, as if I were trying to move under water. I have to just keep pushing myself forward without any motivation or will to do so. In a day or two, all will be fine again.
Dream Level: is increased each time when you "Go Deeper" into the dream. Each new level is harder to achieve and
takes more iterations than the one before.
Rare Deep Dream: is any dream which went deeper than level 6.
Deep Dream
You cannot go deeper into someone else's dream. You must create your own.
Deep Dream
Currently going deeper is available only for Deep Dreams.
