Cleaning Up Your Own Mess: The Chaotic Wake of Untreated Mental Illness

One day, after coming out of a very long and severe depression, I saw the shadow of a tree on the ground, and I was instantly convinced that I knew the secrets of the universe. I had just gone through an out of body experience the day before, which had dissolved my fear of death, and made every acorn look like it contained all the complexity of a galaxy. I couldn’t stop smiling, and would wake up and go to bed with an ear to ear grin.

Seeing the world around me as a meaningless illusion obliterated my anxiety. Nothing could worry me — not the person yelling in my face, not the raindrops pouring on my head, and not the bills piling up in my mailbox. I realized nothing mattered, and was relieved not to have to care so much anymore.

Then I woke up a few weeks later, and felt different. I took a peek through the blinds, and the gray clouds muffled the sunlight I’d gotten used to seeing pierce through the window. I forced myself out of bed, my body feeling stiffer than I remembered, and I thought, “Oh no, is it happening again?”

I tried shaking it off, writing about it, repeating a mantra, or reading a passage from a holy book. I listened to a lecture by Alan Watts, or read Plato, or Schopenhauer. Maybe play some music — Chopin is soothing, or some tribal house. I exercised…