There must be poles, though. Reality demands that there be poles, and polar opposites. At least in this dimension, it does. Because otherwise, all is chaos if there is nothing to define anything against. I chose mathematics (despite hating it) because of the purity of its answers. It's either correct or incorrect. Mathematics is eternal and unchanging...unless you count that "fine-tuning" during the expansion period of the big bang, but we won't talk about that--ahem--where were we? lol And what is worse, nature is fractal which means that nothing is new under the sun. Any possible outcome will eventually happen in this universe or the next--yes, that's right, the next, per the Conformal Cyclic Cosmology, which fits in the DeBroglie-Bohm model of the universe, using Bohmian mechanics. "Free will" is only a half-right descriptor--we have a series of probabilities at the zero spacetime node level, and there are only so many possibilities in the age of the universe. That means, if I'm not Asian right now (I'm not), I will be at some point far, far in the future long after the universe fades to gray and suddenly pops into the next aeon via Big Bang. This is nothing but the Banach-Tarski theorem applied to a four-dimensional spacetime construct, i.e., the universe.

I've had inexplicable things happen to me that are far more than de ja vu. When I was three or four, long before I learned letters, for instance, I was down at the marina with my mother, and glanced over and said, "Look, Ma, there's the Donna Lou!", and sure as the sky is blue, there was a boat named the Donna Lou. She almost crashed her jeep. lmao How did I know that without having already been through this life an infinite number of times in an infinite number of variations before? I've had even weirder stuff happen, too, but I already sound loony enough.

None of the meds I have tried do anything but lower my sperm count and make me get auras when I don't take them or make me feel miserable and spacey. Remeron, lithium, pamelor, meloril (?), inderal, buspar, wellbutrin, celexa, effexor/venlafaxine, prozac, Seroquel, amitriptyline, thorazine, Xanax, Zoloft, Paxil...I mean, how much longer am I going to have to play guinea pig? It doesn't work, or the side effects are ridiculous. Jesus, I had second degree burns on my hands, back and face after taking prozac and going into the sun. I still have scars. Because they put me on something else that made me photosensitive without waiting a week or two for the prozac to purge.

I've probably made it worse by doing some rather serious psychedelics on multiple occasions to chase down where the bleeding edge of conscious perception meets reality. I get what you're saying, though. But...I don't want to bother with the responsibility anymore. I always forget to take them, and for whom am I improving myself? For what? Prolong my life for what exactly, now...? The statistics for single men with depression as they age are public knowledge and rather grim. And I have the specter of Alzheimer's to look forward to, so I get to live through prison all over again! Yay!

I look for things that will tell me what will happen after I breathe my last. I need proof before hand. The idea of consciousness simply ceasing to be is unnerving on a primal level for me, and I find I think about it more than anything else in my day to day life. I have obsessive thoughts over likely scenarios, each new bit of information that can be fit into the tapestry triggering a fresh cascade of going through probabilities in my head while simultaneously wishing I would not. Will I know the dream is death? Will I dream at all? Will I think I made it for years and years and years in the perception of time, only to realize at the last moment it was all a lie? I don't even like to talk about it like this it is so disturbing to me.

I am completely neurotic. Obsessively so. There are none who would willingly walk through that mine-field. I need someone whom I can grow with because all of the people in my life have been intransigent with the exception of a few family members, and they are dying off. I know no one. I have no one. Once my mother is gone, I will most likely get in my car and simply leave. There is nothing left to build a life upon because the foundation has rotted out from underneath. I am a ghost. Nothing more.