Sometimes it’s hard to exist when the mind dissociates. The world as you know it never looks the same, and most things are unreal. Existence itself is unreal, your reflection is unreal and you feel a fuzzy disconnectedness from the things around you.
This happens a lot of after a period of psychosis, where your reality was warped for an extended period of time. How is it ameliorated? Well, I haven’t found an answer to that yet.
Some of the dissociation manifests as self-harm, which is what people diagnosed Borderline tend to exhibit. It’s a sort of “pinching yourself to see if you’re dreaming” reaction, and can be severe if the person is sufficiently disconnected from their body.
Depth perception changes a bit too.
I pondered why it is that Schizophrenics go mute after a while, or why autists exhibit selective mutism in the first place. One of the ideas is that reality doesn’t seem worth interacting with anymore. There is an inherent distrust of others, or even an indifference, which makes the physical act of speaking redundant if not irritating.
I tend to reach this point at times, where talking is physically exhausting, and is one of the reasons teaching tires me after a while. And as I become more reclusive, talking becomes more exhausting.
I hate my body. And it’s not in this sort of “I wish it were of a specific type” kind of way, though I do. It’s more of, I hate even physically having a body at all. I hate that I have to eat, that I have to sleep, that I have to wash it, or take care of it. I hate that I have to watch it deteriorate when it’s under stress. But that’s not to say I don’t enjoy the physical world as it is, but more that I just hate watching myself die. I become functionally asexual when I’m studying mathematics, and I haven’t been able to pinpoint why that is.
Everything else in life seems to pale in comparison to the goals I now have for myself. And they’re very simple, get high and solve puzzles. Writing here is my form of “talking” and it’s enjoyable. I do miss physically being around him, but I don’t care much for conversation, and I am somewhat perturbed by the fact that we’re dead to each other.
When I’m feeling negative, such as now. I have no desire to spread it, or spread at all. The energy refocuses into work, if properly medicated. If not, it externalizes as restless chaos, and I begin self-destructing. I’m recovering from a self-destruct period this weekend, as the thought of even seeing him derailed me.
Unfortunately, I’m still not over this previous relationship. Given its duration and my experience, this shouldn’t be the case. Even now, I have this desire to cry about it. Joon told me it’s a Poisson process.
There’s a conjecture in Complex Analysis that I want to study, and I think there could be an algebraic way of solving it. However, I’m studying measure theory, and it is of the utmost importance that I course pass, so there is no time to think about more interesting things. I’ll come back to it later.
There are two conjectures, one in complex analysis and one in algebraic geometry, that I am interested in solving. The foundational material that I’m learning in this program will push me in the right direction, but there is more work to be done.
I’ll probably never write a book. When I look at books I become disgusted with the self-absorption of the authors. Most books are redundant, and promote intellectual chaos. Category Theory in Context, for example, is a poorly written book and is redundant. Categories for the Working Mathematician was just fine, and didn’t need a companion. Books are only necessary if it is to establish connections that don’t already exist. Regurgitating information is not to help students, but to stroke your own ego. Grothendieck wrote EGA in French because he knew anyone who was serious enough to read his material would learn the language to read it.
Once I overcome my habit of self-hatred, I will become.