My mind shits itself enough on its own. Even caffeine can be too much sometimes. First time I had a coffee I was shaking uncontrollably for hours. Coke's given me panic attacks. (And by coke I mean the
soda.) I'm naturally pretty amped at times - insane, bouncing off the walls kind of amped - and a lot of the time being in any kind of unfamiliar environment (ie anywhere that isn't home) sends my brain haywire because there are too many signals for it to take in at once.
Overstimulation, basically. It's as if the world is made up of lines and lines and lines of code a mile high, stacked in so many layers, creating this matrix (heh) that surrounds and looms over us all, and my brain tries to latch on to the whole but can only grasp a few little corners at a time, and all the while I feel like I'm about to be swallowed up by the mountain of data and energy around me. I can almost *feel* my mind stretching forward and backward in all dimensions, pulled so thin it's about to snap, and things seem to distort around me. Not necessarily my actual perception - it's mostly in how it hits me. There's a bit of paranoia, that something isn't right... though that isn't quite correct either, that's too human a way of putting it. Like the signals are going to all the wrong receptors and making all the wrong conclusions, all this misdirection. I *know* what I'm seeing is a busker playing violin, but he's all at once a sinister figure, an angel, a demon, a metaphor for human existence, every human archetype he's been in his life, some absurdly random misidentification my brain comes up with, me, personification of emotion, a marketing scheme, etc etc etc. The violin is incredibly complex code all by itself, the music even more so. I suppose it's like my brain tries to see each point in reality from every other point in reality simultaneously, and that's terrifying in itself, but my failure to comprehend and the incredible weight of the data pressing on me is terrifying as well.
Grocery stores are cruelly evil places. Within about 10 minutes the lines of code start warping my brain and I begin feeling like a small whimpering child. Body folds in on self, becomes small and humble and pleading. It's almost as if someone else takes over.
The main problem with all this is the emotional experience that goes along with it. Like being continually immersed in alien emotions that are too big in scope for me to handle. And constant glimpses into the underlying structure of reality which I suspect is very, very alien to our everyday perceptions. A near constant sense of that which lies 'behind the veil'. There are some times when I experience life in a normal, 3D/4D way and it's always such a (pleasant) shock to feel how flat and cardboard-like life can be. I do feel a bit sad, like I'm missing something. But it definitely feels as if something has been turned off, as if the back of my brain has shut down, and only the front is alive and experiencing and living. It's very relaxing - no more whirring, and the world feels so much quieter. But I feel as if I've been 'deactivated'.
So yeah, when people start talking about drugs and the amazing experiences they give you, it creeps me out a little. Too close to home. Altering my state of consciousness even more than it already is - no thanks. It's really fascinating but I don't think I'd be able to control the fear or extreme stimulation, and I probably wouldn't get over it for a long time. It would mess with me for ages. I experience a lot of cold terror because of what's at the corner of my consciousness. It's like being bathed in cold sweat all the time but without the actual sweat, just the coolness and a feeling of light washing over me, cold clinical light mixed with starlight, like an exotic spice, like frozen chilli. It's very interesting and I love it in some ways but it's also important to me to, as you said, keep a grasp on myself and on reality, because I sort of feel like I'm standing on the brink. The brink of the brink, anyway.
I'm learning how to walk away though, that's quite fun too. A lot of it has come from simply realising that I have racing thoughts, and if I can just pay enough attention to untangle them, I get a good idea of what my brain is trying to say, instead of just the terrified puddle of mush and eerie insights at the end.
I've also started to realise that my brain has lost some ability to selectively pay attention. Brains are supposed to prioritise naturally, which gives form/order/direction to your life. But because mine sucks at that now, my perception is affected as well - it sort of zooms lurchily towards and away from objects at random, with no obvious relevance to my life. It's manifested in other ways as well, like decreased skill at smart/efficient decision-making - instead of my brain quickly and effortlessly laying out all the variables in order of importance, it hobbles around like a cripple and chooses insignificant and random ones, then latches on tenaciously and messes up all my plans. Makes me think it must be an illness of sorts (in that it has a common root) - probably habit, so hopefully I can train myself out of this.
The whole machine elves thing sounds so cool though. :/
(Does any of this sound like what you mean? I'd be interested to hear more; you can PM me if you want or just leave it here.)
