My neighbour and the holographic universe

My neighbour (we share a stairwell) came 'round earlier. She's lovely, but quite gabby, it was difficult to get a word in edgeways. I showed her my flat for the first time. I am terrible at letting people into my life, especially when I've changed it radically recently; I have to settle into it myself first. Anyway, I'd held off letting her see the flat until I was happy with it myself (as I did with my friends too, although most of them have seen it now), and it turns out that her flat (which she also let me see) is actually much nicer looking, even though the only structural difference is that hers mirrors mine. How unfair is that? I spend a lot of money constructing a crisp, clean, faintly gothic, totally me living space, and someone who I've just met does it better than me. Her place is lovely, and it doesn't feel at all creepy either. I'm not sure I'd have gone for the stuffed Mickey Mouse in her bedroom, but everything else was pretty damn cool. We have a leak in our stairwell, and apparently it's probably coming from my water tank, so there'll be workmen here tomorrow morning at 9. If nothing else, it's an excuse to be late for work.

On a completely different note, I just read a very interesting article, touching on the work of one T.C. Lethbridge, who Dave the Lurker introduced me to, and relating it to the concept of our interaction with the universe as essentially holographic in nature. It put a whole new spin on the "As above, so below" concept for me, and, as a whole, it sits better with my own conception of the universe (a fragile thing, constructed of half-understood quotes and anecdotes from physicists, occultists and not a few stand up comics).

This post has taken something in the region of 2 hours to write because in between times I've been watching Vanilla Sky. In between watching that I also had a panic attack. It was refreshing, in a way. I haven't had one in so long I'd almost forgotten what it was like. I'm not sure how to categorise it now. There was a calm detatchment to it, a feature that developed at a very late stage in my last encounter with this phenomenon. It was more of a physiological sensation, like an itch you can't scratch, somewhere between the eyes, and back a little way. It's still kind of there, but it's under control. I'm not about to lurch back into the catatonic half-life that characterised most of the time I spent at 6th form college. I think I may have both over-freaked and over-caffienated myself. Hopefully this will pass quickly. I've had brief flashes of it at various times in the past few years, but none have lasted very long, and certainly not the 2 complete years of the first time. What a thrill ride that was.

Anyway, enough of this, it's probably best that I go to bed and attempt to sleep. Hopefully that will help.

...and he's ok, ladies and gentlemen!

I feel much better this morning. Well, I didn't when I woke up, but the process of getting my arse in gear seems to have shaken away the cobwebs of last night. It's a totally bizarre experience. It's like the universe, with all its attendant cares, falls away and all that's left is you, and the unreasoning terror that's suddenly tightened your chest and set up camp in your head. That's the worst bit, knowing that nothing outside of you has caused this. That's what spiralled it out of control for me in the first place. You think you're going mad, or at least I did. It's also the cure. Once you know that the fear is entirely fictional and you have enough time free of it to contemplate what life is supposed to be like, you're well on the way to recovery. Once you can look at yourself in a calm state and realise that there's nothing externally different to when the blind panic, palpitations and general symptoms of terror (without having anything specific to panic about) set in, you can work the childlike part of your mind round to the idea that maybe you're not as fucked up as you thought you were, and it's just something that comes and goes. IME once you know that it comes and goes, it does so less and less frequently, until you hardly notice it.

I don't know what set it off this time. I was fine earlier in the day. I think it might have been too much consideration of the possible lurking entities. It's silly really. It's obviously not anything particularly scary, so I've obviously over-reacted. Once you've felt something a couple of times, the brain has a way of inserting it, willy-nilly into similar situations. I think I've basically over-spooked myself, and then fallen prey to my eternal trap of over-thinking everything. I think it must've gone something like this: "-I'm scared. Why am I scared? -Because you have a potential occult beastie in your bathroom. -OK, but I know how to deal with that, and, should the worst come to the worst, I think I can handle it. -Oh yeah...so why are you scared then? -I don't know. -There must be something to be scared about if you're scared. Let's see if we can find it. -OK. Well, I can't find anything, but I'm still a little freaked. That's a little scary in itself. -You're scared of being scared? -Aren't you? -Yes, I'm you, dumbass. -No need to get shirty about it."

With the exception of the last part, I'm pretty sure that's how the story goes, for me at least. The reason for the fear is shown to be empty and pointless, but the fear remains, inexplicably. The inexplicability is the key to the whole thing, it's both the cause of, and the solution to the problem. Once you can get your own racing brain to confront it, that is.

Well, I don't feel too bad at the moment. A couple of butterflies in the stomach for no discernible reason, but I think I can ignore that. I certainly won't be drinking any coffee today. What the hell was I thinking?

Predictable...

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Just thought I'd fill one of these in while I was waiting for this plumber chap.

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feeling a lot more myself

I think it's fairly safe to say that I'm over the worst of the effects of last night's panic attack. I'm confidently expecting another one some time in the future, but for now, that particular little genie is back in its bottle. I haven't had any unwanted phenomena today either, which is kind of weird because it felt like it was building to some sort of crescendo (not a particularly impressive one, I'll grant you, but a crescendo nevertheless). Perhaps it (or they) saw that they'd freaked me out and are feeling guilty. I can only speculate. At any rate, nothing has swung about in my kitchen and I haven't seen anything out of the corner of my eye in the bathroom. I think I'll let sleeping dogs lie and just wait and see what happens. Back to boring posts from me, I'm afraid. I'll just have to do more surveys, that's all :)

Weird vampire theme emerging.

You are Elizabeth Bathory. (The bloodcountess)
Legend tells us that you, this very rich,
beautiful and high born woman tortured and
murdered some 650 young women and bathed in
their warm blood to keep yourself beautiful. In some stories, it is said you have drank thier
blood as well. You were a sexual sadist on a
grand scale. Ah vanity is your downfall. For shame!

Which Imfamous criminal are you?
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OK, lots of blood. That's a settling image.