What drives a person crazy? What differentiates a crazy person from a sane one? I can't define it, but I see a thin line between insanity & consciousness, making it hard to distinguish at times. Even the "crazy" claim they're sane. Psychiatry labels psychiatric patients as sane but flawed due to brain function issues. Yet, I feel like a spectacle for those around me. I'm not crazy I'm just sick. I looked up from my notes to see whispers & glances directed at me. Dirk loves to philosophize, & while his ideas annoy me, I oddly agree with some. "How do they let this psycho exist in the university?!” I overheard. They view me as the odd one, Leo or as my father called me, the mental hospital's owner. I fled to engineering to escape the chaos. Ironically, I have dissociative identity disorder (DID), with seven personalities. Each has its voice & story, explaining their stares. My father keeps me out of the hospital, dosing me with sedatives to manage my personality. I hear them all, yet I don't know who the real me is. I mostly stay in control, except when Dirk's philosophy sneaks in or Jack shows up during bullying. As I approached my locker, I found a letter. I hesitated to open it until I saw the sender: Jana, my twin sister, in an asylum. Is insanity hereditary? I ponder our mother's dementia & my disorder. I finally opened the letter, only to find a piece of wood shaped like an X .tell me again how she sent it from the mental asylum. Then I heard the café news about a patient escaping: Jana Oris! This might explain her message. I'd never seen her as crazy; she was brilliant—until she became uncontrollably agitated & vanished for days. My father had tested her for mental issues, & that news hit hard. If she's crazy, can I trust anyone? At home, I examined the letter: “Cd Zkved Mrebm, Wsxrd, Nyxd doky Ieb Wonsmkdsyx.” The “X” was the key, representing ten. William, my analytical side, easily recognized it as Caesar's cipher. “The key tells how many letters to shift.” He explained the process, & I impatiently awaited the results. Soon, the message formed“St. Paul's Church, midnight, do not take your medication.” Why not take my meds? "idiot, there's another card!” William pointed out. I pulled it from the envelope, finding an old newspaper with headlines about hidden experiments & madness drugs. The date? 2004 I grabbed the letter again, trying to connect this newspaper with the encrypted message. Something felt off. Did Jana discover something dangerous, & Dad accused her of being crazy? Would he send her to an asylum for that reason? What about my medications? Is there something wrong with it? This is Illogical! Thoughts crashed in my mind. I placed the paper on the desk & noticed large writing on the back of the newspaper, which I initially thought was scribbles. My eyes widened at the sentence, “You were not sick.” I stepped away, breathing heavily. Is she honest? Not crazy? What if the medications caused my illness? Am I real, or just a personality created by the disease? Am I really sick? I sighed violently, feeling like crying for the first time since crying had left me. Everything will become clear tonight! When midnight arrived, I was in church until I heard her around from the corner. “I know you have questions,” she began. I shot back without sitting down, "What's the truth? You & my dad? Am I sick?! "Not your dad!" she sighed. I stared as she revealed a piece of paper. “We were adopted after our mother died in his hospital.” My features froze staring at the paper & my dad's signature. Your illness is not normal. It's from medications our father gave you for experiments.” Anger & shock surged inside me. “Do you have proof? That newspaper says there will be an investigation! How do I know this isn't another delusion?” Jana pulled out a stack of papers. “It's all here! I've searched for the truth.”The more I read, the more shocked I became. Details on the experiments & drugs made, the world collapse around me. Different personalities fought for control, all of them. Their voices clashed in my head, laughter mixed with screams, while I squatted, hugging my shoulders., begging to calm down, but Jana watched anxiously. As I trembled, she held me tight despite Jack's resistance. “Leo, I'm here. I won't leave you, everything will be ok! Don't be afraid!”I began to cry while she whispered reassurances. For the first time, I felt safe, knowing I wasn't alone. “I'm here for you, brother. We'll heal together. You're stronger than you think” Her words reignited hope within me. I felt the weight of my suffering lighten, replaced with determination to reclaim my life. With Jana by my side, we'll face what's coming. The road won't be easy, my dad, confronting him, informing the police. But together, piece by piece. As dawn broke, light crept through the church windows, illuminating our path. Embracing each other, we stepped out of the shadows, ready to face a hopeful but dangerous future.

Well, The essay of mine is based on overcoming conflicts in my personal life. If I reveal something about my personality, character or lifestyle, I am such a calm, peace, introvert , relaxed person I can say , not having upsetterd the people is one of my manner, because, my character prevent to them, definitely you have a question, why am I writing or exposing my character in that essay, so to explain I have encountered so many problems, conflicts, issues and longitude considerations. Relatively, I am absolutely say as one of the minor member of this generation -people especially youngsters do not want to respect others, genuinely I had had some kind of conflicts with children, individuals and school organization that year, I am going to speak about them one by one in my essay. Initially, my personal character has caused many misunderstandings with schoolers during my school years, for example I do not fancy having a conversation with the people who are irresponsible, irresistible, irrespective, rough, rude and also stupid , nonetheless, we must have admitted these types of people are more and more around us, once upon a time , when I have paid a visit to school in the back years , some teens in my school had kidding me and say something worse about me, at that time I did not give pay attention to their stereotypes, I though it was a simple childish things of them , but it was not going that I thought , due to their permeant , usual sentences, then it was reached to the high volume and I should have done something to prevent these bad things for me , at this time I had a few conceptions to get rid of their violations or bullying, genuinely you cannot say only done of the bad words, or actions must not be a violation, nevertheless it was not like you thought , therefore I have three ways to figure out this conflict, first of I can utilize adequate manipulations to their psychology , coz if they had had a good personality, they wouldn't have behaviored themselves in this way , in this situation, only did we influence them with the true and impactful opinions and conversation, it was likely to be influencer , or just I ought to address to their guardians or parents, if I was not able to mange it , I would call their parents, so that I have selected the initial manner in the light of straightforward and easy one.Next day I did come across again to them in the prior corridor, tranquility was really dominated at that condition, they bound to reveal some of nasty or unacceptable sayings again and again, after that I had been trying to have a top-notch and real conversation with them, I requested them why they were doing it to me , I had spoken about their life, be a merciful person, like how??? you have a question like that , I brought them to the orphanages' house firstly, then we went to the refugee's ones and punerity locations which poor people reside. Then I said it was not too complex to be better individ , every person has a admirable personality, favourable hobbies, closest acquaintances who is able to shape that person from the core. After this phenomenal situation, every member of his "crew " left there without any words , genuinely they realized that we must have been thankful, respectful, and responsible human, we must take a look for the significant issues around our world , they understood, by kidding someone or embarrassed condition they did not attain their perspectives, it is such an ordinary, provisional feeling. I was both happy to influence for someone to find out the significance of their life why they are living in this life, what the importance of their goals dreams and, indispensably, to be grateful person , due to the fact that's not only did they do these actions for me but also for others, that's why I did these campaigns manners to them, it was beneficial for everyone who were suffering from them , because everyone has a right to live proudly, independently.

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TOOTHPASTE GYAAN aka Wisdom It is probably something which we consider to be very trivial. However, one of the first things we do, once we're out of bed in the morning, is to think of it, and even use it. Yes! It's the toothpaste tube. There are about 30 plus local and international brands available at the next door pharmacy store or supermarket. Whatever be your brand, the fact that one uses a toothpaste tube is significant now. Wondering why? Believe me- there's a great deal behind that soft-squeeze-tube! After I joined UTC, a seminary in Bangalore, India, my observations on how people used their toothpaste tube, changed to a reflection, and even grew into a critical analysis on, ‘why people use their toothpaste tube the way they do.' Probably, my findings could be articulated sufficiently to award myself a M.A (Master of Arts) with specialization in the area of what could be called as- “Ethics of using a toothpaste tube,” or “Toothpaste Gyaan aka Wisdom.” I have personally observed different methods or styles when it comes to getting out the white, red, blue, or multi-colored gel out of that tube. While many don't actually care to give this even a thought, some are wondering what all of this has to do with one's behavior or psychology. I have made many discoveries myself while observing how people use their toothpaste tube. However, I always wondered- ‘How can I present my findings on . . . . . after all . . . . . a toothpaste tube? Who would recognize or appreciate it, let alone give it a patient hearing?' Will people not question- ‘Can anything good come out of a toothpaste tube?' How easily people repudiate the deep, intricate messages one has derived! I believe that it's not just the paste, but something more, that comes out of a toothpaste tube! Life and a toothpaste tube have parallels! You can get to know much about a person, noting the way he/she uses one's own toothpaste tube. I have drawn a few hypotheses, the authenticity of which (unlike those of newly-discovered drugs), need not be tried on laboratory rats or other beings. Researchers in clinical behavior are more convinced that you get to know more of a person through his/her sub-conscious, non-verbal behavior and acts. One popular Bollywood movie involved a scene where listeners of a radio show called the radio jockey to discuss their day-to-day stories and predicaments. The radio host would listen patiently to cases thrown on air and then come up with creative and witty solutions. One young lady had to decide whether the person she was about to meet at the restaurant should be her future life-partner or not. She was facing a dilemma as she had to make an important decision within a matter of 30 to 45 minutes. The radio host deftly handled the case and with much ease. All that he suggested was- ‘If the man called the waiter by making sounds with his mouth or called out to the waiter saying ‘hey waiter…' he was certainly not the person she should marry because the very fact that he treated someone who served food with disrespect or lack of warmth indicated that he had no place in his heart for human relationships and values and dignity of labor. The lady just followed the instructions aired out to her ditto, and by the time the order was placed by the man and he could turn back to her, she was gone. He had not called the waiter with respect. So, she quit. Strange…you may think! This analogy is an example to show how we are revealing ourselves everyday through small acts even though they do not involve any words, sounds or actions. These episodes are loaded with gigabytes of information enough to describe to the world who we really are. You could start your own fact-findings, all by yourself. If you are a good observer, it won't be long before you are a professional in studying people's not-much-noticed moments and handle situations effectively. The onus is not on catching people during their odd moments, but to process one's own ability of understanding colleagues, friends, relatives, and groups. Who knows? You may even earn a doctorate with what you have discovered. Never mind, if the world refuses to honor your innovations. Your understanding will certainly help improve relations with people in this world. More still, it facilitates self-refinement. So, dear friend, the next time you drag yourself to the wash basin for a brush, just give a brief pause. Observe yourself! Observe others too! Ask yourself- ‘What kind of a person am I?' Remember – There's more than just paste…which comes out of your toothpaste tube! Note: You may reach the author on utcsudhakarjoshua@gmail.com or +91 9886698818 (WhatsApp)

- Who are you when no one's looking? Find the answer and we'll come back to our conversation, - I was told long time ago. As we know, everything takes place for a reason. Let me take you to the journey of a mindset change. Initially I associated the term quarantine with fear, hesitancy and negativity. In case of following this path, it could lead to the lowest point of life. And as it happened to be true, quarantine became part of our life in a pretty unexpected way. Want it or not, but it makes an impact. In my case the impact was life-changing. Yet, don't rush with assumptions. After spending a while isolated, a quite unanticipated thought crossed my mind. It made me realize that there's a meeting I've been postponing for so long. This is the worst time to make it happen, so I'll go for it :) Despite the rules of staying at home during this dangerous period of quarantine I felt that it could no longer be on hold. The person I wanted to meet was the one who asked me the key question. Even though I didn't have the answer by that time, I knew I'd be welcomed anyway. Honestly, I wasn't ready mentally. The time was inappropriate. I didn't reach to the point when I could feel comfortable with that person. Is this feeling of insecurity familiar to you? When the person knows the REAL you. However, I dared to take my chance, cause especially this period turned the inner calmness into priority. We met. It was a long conversation filled with gloominess, uncertainty, frustration, patience, simplicity, joy, tranquility. Quarantine has this unique effect of forcing us to face our deepest fears, memories, thoughts. I mean the hidden ones. The ones we weren't able to notice before, because of our previous “busy” lifestyle. We all have multiple identities, simply said – versions of ourselves. Some are “proven” by society; therefore those are the ones we show to the rest of the world. Our family, friends, basically everyone recognizes us as THAT kind of person. Still there's one left. A real version remains undetected. The one we try to hide so determinedly. Probably, my initial assumption wasn't precise. Particularly when I claimed that the timing of this meeting wasn't the best one. Apparently, society's isolation set the true identity of mine free for a while. That was the moment when 2 puzzles combined. Eventually the fulfillment I felt afterwards made me realize that our inner peace and needed mental balance is held by facing The Person – the only version of ourselves shown only when no one is looking.

I fear that my creative muse must have left for the coast. I used to write poetry so much that it made sense to identify myself as a poet. I enjoyed the meter though I detested rhyme. I loved to read poetry as a child, and even now, sometimes, I find content and form that mystifies and inspires me. Though for much of it, I have to seek out poets from the 18th and 19th centuries. For years I wrote love poetry about different kinds of love, and in retrospect, sometimes they were based on personal experiences of love that failed. Other times they were an amalgamation of the things that I wanted and needed in a relationship. It wasn't until I finally had a taste of the accomplishment of those goals that I stopped writing. I was writing because I was in pain and longing for something I did not have and began to feel that I would never have. I thought perhaps my raison d'etre was not to know what kind of love in this life. Yet the moment I achieved some state of happiness, the ink ran dry. I came to realize my inspiration was an ideal, a philosophy of the personification of love. Had I written these poems to a god, spirit, or egregore on some distant shore, using the splendor of the word to show devotion towards this ideal? Commitment to embracing a love that maybe I had known in another incarnation, or perhaps had known when I was part of the gathering of spirit in the heavens. Composing poetry on themes of love eventually combines passionate love with divine love. Verily the poetry was a scathing attack on the injustices and cruelty of past lovers. Sometimes it was a list of attributes I sought to embody within myself. I was petitioning the gods of love to show no pity but to guide me in the direction where I would find love that would heal my wounded heart. Where thoughts travel, energy follows, and here is where devotion to the gods of love may pour reflections of it into my heart. Such an action expanding capacity and consciousness for such love, for this is the formula of sympathetic magic: to create a microcosmic model of the macrocosm. It is reaffirming the age-old wisdom of as above so below. Here it is clear that I have attempted to understand love in the form of philosophy and less so through an emotive context. Everyone has strengths and weaknesses, and in the lesson of Chiron, astrology, and mythology teach a lesson about the wounded healer. The wound itself is the teacher that imparts the wisdom of how it can also be the healer.

I am looking forward to pursuing my Doctorate in Psychology at the Alliant International University. I did not attend college until I was 38 and completed my Masters in Forensic Psychology 4 years ago. I was married until the untimely passing of my husband in 2012. I have, mostly, been in the restaurant business which led me to my newest venture, my own catering company. Having lived in the San Francisco Bay Area for 3 decades, I am interested in social justice and how psychology can ferret out group and individual ideals and beliefs that are at the heart of discrimination. That's all for now but stay tuned.

The world is a careful orchestration of facts and logics that lay onto each other to give varied results. Choices are invariably between few options, like video simulations, that pile onto each other to result in vastly different outcomes. The law of multiplication in its grandest application. Successful is he who can decipher these truths of the world to come up with his own. As a woman of logic, it baffles me, thus, how individuals can blatantly turn an eye away from the facts that stare them in the face. Certain advocates for equality like to harp on the premise that all humans are the same, a concept that I never understood. The very aspects that make us human differentiate us. From our genetic code which dictates our physical capacities to our appearance which segregates us on a visual level to our individual psyches that transcends measurable scales, humans are literally programmed to stand out. Which is why it is ignorant to assume that all of us are cut of the same cloth and fit into the same mould. However, an admittance of dissimilarity is not a translation to advocacy for injustice. There is a difference between seeing individuality and condemning others for it. These unwritten divides that segregate us into subgroups within a larger population are not the reason for the animosity that certain individuals feel. These malicious thoughts are viruses concealed in promising packets of healthy cells which cross the barriers within our heads to infect what lies beyond, to decay our minds. These trojan horses of malevolence implant themselves into our psyche without our knowledge, they start an unalterable process of gradual decline of our thoughts and of our perspectives. They turn dissimilar people into ‘them' who are deprived of the treatment and amenities that ‘we' should receive. Early interactions with non-neurotypical individuals normalised the concept to me that certain people have quirks or habits that may not resemble my own. The brain is akin to an ocean, it is uncharted territory that is not completely understood by individuals and hides secrets that are yet to be uncovered. It is unjust to box this super-machine with infinite capability into identical, restrictive containers. The world is filled with unique individuals and while we may have come a long way in the acceptance of individuals with varied physical appearances, we have yet to accept those who different from us neurologically. A moment that sticks with me took place when I was in ninth grade. The toll of the bell had indicated that we were free to go to the cafeteria to grab something to eat. On the food counter was a boy with autism who was working the counter to gain work experience. Unlike my usual, unsocial self I decided to strike up a conversation with him. Once I returned to my unofficially designated seat, I was bombarded with questions about my interaction with him by a friend of mine. This friend expressed her disbelief at my conversation, her primary question was 'why would I want to talk to him?'. This friend was considered social and accepting of all people, she was even working with students with autism for a project, which is why it shocked me to see her react this way, to take this fellow human as an alien creature who we could share no connection with. I came to the conclusion that dissimilarity scares us- the creatures of conformity. We very easily discard those who don't conform to our idea of normalcy. These preconceived notions make people tag non-neurotypical individuals as mentally deranged r dumb. This bubbling cauldron of emotions triggered me to work towards the acceptance of non-neurotypical individuals so that some day the need to ask the question that my friend had does not arise.

Don Quixote With bravado and crossroads, the seventeenth century classic Don Quixote, fully titled The Ingenious Nobleman Sir Quixote of La Mancha, uses the protagonist, Don Quixote, to reveal gender-based thinking strategies that lead to an understanding of unfulfilled longings that reside within the self. This frame tale uses adventures, beauty, dissatisfaction with one's lot, and the pursuit of a family to reveal norms that shape the individual. Don Quixote's dissatisfactions also involve dynamic-duo quests that emphasize male social norms derived from myths. Moreover, myths that involve heroic narrative arcs are critical to a reader's psychological development because an individual's psyche is responsible for the people they encounter in their lives, decision-making, and goals. Because goals are so important, Don Quixote's character is portrayed as a foil that is narrated as kind, deliberate, and brave. His stance is in opposition to Sancho Panza, who is an agreeable peasant. Quixote performs brave acts to honor his love interest, Dulcinea, while ultimately remaining unmarried, unfulfilled and defeated by the strangers he encounters because his methods of bravery are too unconventional and viewed as insanity; influenced by myths in his collection of novels. On the other hand, Sancho is married with a child and leaves his family to accompany Quixote on his adventures with hopes of acquiring wealth. He is religious, adheres to societal norms, and would like his daughter to marry a nobleman. His stance is juxtaposed with Quixote's delusions of being a knight to display the effects of choice. Nonetheless, with poignant foreshadowing, we can view Sancho as the individual in society who depends on a Christ-like figure to save him with a reward for his good deeds and obedience. He accompanies Don Quixote, his Christ, for riches. Sancho's reactions to the developments in the narrative stem from his submissive role. While Sancho is desperately trying to fulfill his role as Don Quixote's helper, he seems to have greater clarity about decision making. When Sancho leaves the inn in a hurry, it shows characterization when he displays determination to get what is owed to him, and the alacrity provides the reader with the appropriate method he should use when confronted with crossroads in life: to pick a path, stick with the journey until the end, but within conventional methods and choices. Sancho uses his mental capacity to think things through in order to build confidence, which adds an extra layer in the narrative. On the other hand, Don Quixote is determined to resume his adventures and win the heart of his love interest regardless of the opinion of others. Throughout the frame tale, metaphors from novels Quixote has read establishes his norms that also shape the psyche of many individuals. For Quixote, metaphors come to life as strangers he meets on his journeys. For example, Quixote wants to marry Dulcinea, but society states that males must be brave for their wives. Quixote's pursuits of love takes him on a journey filled with acts of bravery to prove his love for Dulcinea. Accompanied by Sancho, he forge battles with his thoughts of bravery, and strangers that lead to lessons each individual can apply to their lives.These lessons are entwined with desire, death, and rewards; if doctrines are followed. While Sancho would like his future reward to be swift so he can improve his lot, he also has to ensure his family continues to live noble lives. Don Quixote dies with longings as a result of his unconventional views toward marriage and bravery. His tensions remained dark throughout the novel with vast amounts of revolutionary choices, while providing the reader with alternate ways of viewing societal norms. On the other hand, Sancho's foibles are narrated as determination because he is narrated as the sidekick to the heroine that proved to be a deconstruction to chivalry. Goals and cognitive abilities assist the reader with various perspectives that exist in life and paths they may take. Expect the unexpected with Don Quixote and Sancho Panza because it is similar to choices one confronts on a daily basis. Sancho's decision making includes consulting with the moral values he learned from religious life, while Don Quixote encounters wide varieties of fictional books that became his psyche. Moreover, we encounter heroes from all walks of life who could be responsible for the different types of psychological breakthroughs that exist, while engaged in goal achievement, but individuals are ultimately responsible for their autonomy, the books they read, and how those novels influence their life.

The essential psychology, emotional, and behaviors that may drive us as human beings is self-motivation. Are you one of those people at work who's driven to lead? Or why do you think people are driven to lead? What are the basic human drives that motivate us each day to do what we do? This is one of the major psychological well-being factors that influence majorities when things are getting difficult. As your internal motivation produces in you a passion for life because it operates in the midst of your deepest desire and vision for the future. As a result of this gives you tremendous internal motivation to begin to act on your purpose and gifts and to see your vision become a reality, as you exhibit the qualities of a self-starter. You will find that you don't need to wait for someone to prompt you, or even if they eventually do. To use your gift to work towards your goals; instead, you may not wait or can't wait to get up in the morning and continue working on them as a matter of fact because you have internal motivation within you. It will be so cleared that your internal motivation and passion will foster a persevering attitude you possess within you especially in a supernatural forces, because no matter what or how long it takes you to think and develop your natural abilities, as you put your plans into action, or see results, you keep going on and keep believing and keep going forward ever. Internal Motivation Researchers have discovered that the intrinsic value of internal motivation refers to behavior that is driven by internal rewards. In other areas or perspective, the motivation that prompt people or person to engage in a particular behavior arises from within the individual or personally related to the group of people who just feel within themselves that it's natural or because it is naturally satisfying to them. Then we need to ask someone's when was the last time you did something simply for the enjoyment of the activity itself? Because there are a number of activities that fall into this category. For instance, you may play a game, write a story, you may plant a garden, paint a picture or read a book, evangelize. All these may produce a result or may not produce something or be rewarded in any way but it all depends on the ways we approached them. Instead, we do them because we like to, they make us happy. Let's consider this illustration for a moment. What's motivation you to read this article? If you are reading it because you are just interested in reading articles and simply want to learn or know more about the topic of motivation, then you are acting based on intrinsic motivation. If, however, reading this article by now; because you have to learn the information concerning motivation for a representation in a class in order to avoid getting a bad grade, then you are acting based upon extrinsic motivation. In other words, as we contrast with extrinsic motivation, that's to say it generally involves engaging in a behavior in order to earn external rewards or avoid punishment. Power drives people There is one thing to watch out for nowadays, though. While having power can make you happier, but seeking power does not make you happier. With series of finding there is quite a bit of evidence that people who spend their lives seeking power do not focus on the intrinsic joy of life. So, people who seek power are actually less happy than those who do not. The major question to ask now is there a way out of this paradox? That is, how can you have power without seeking it? From the aspects of social life that means doing things for the people around you. Will makes you experience personal fulfillment, contentment, and gratification that come serving the world through your natural gifts and inherent purpose. As long as you are effective in the things you do, and you have certainty that you aren't wasting your life but rather you are using your time, talent, experience, and energy in the best ways. People will never forget and often recognize that. In addition, to this getting thing done makes you happy. The truth is if you consistently do things in your life that help you and others achieve goals, then your journey is a happy one. Without any doubt over time, you will find that you will rise to a position of power within your network. And that definitely will make you happy. Nowadays research shows that there is a popular image that people who are in positions of power are really unfulfilled. Maybe perhaps they carry the weight of the world on their shoulders Bottom Line, Most of the important changes you've made in your life, that is, especially those that persist continually over time, then you'll likely find that many of them involved a rather high level of emotional drive arousal. It's precisely these kinds of strong emotional reactions that can act as a catalyst to increase motivation and commitment.

~~Her eyes glance to the SonyPMW that glares a red LED light. She exaggerates a moan as her bottom lip tucks under her bite. 5-digit imprints begin to welt and ecchymosis starts to surface. He thrashes her body into the Kingsdown cushion.~~ My body hosts a habitat for not just one, but two. Beyond my classic blonde ringlets and wide blue eyes lurks a predator. I call her Vixen. She is a lecherous creature infested in my mind. I cannot rid her. We share the same body, but she deludes my cognition. She is the entity of our illness that resides in our ventral striatum. The conflict between us does not cease until I swallow the colored beads engraved with a systematic arrangement of numerical and alphabetical configurations and close my eyes. My mind disintegrates into a trance. Peace―finally, until REM generates its own unconscious version of Vixen, for Vixen has no regard for serenity. In fact, she preys on calmness. I have wild conversations and battles with voices in my head. The relationship among us is hardly fathomable. The only means I have to express the delusion and insanity that unfolds inside my cranium is through abstract metaphors. And even then, oftentimes I lose myself in the psychobabble and pronouns. There are too many identities. Is my nonsense merely a figment of my distorted reality, or is it true? I don't know. I am not her. She is not me. We drive the same car and run on the same fuel, but there is only one wheel. For some months she used her bondage to leave me tied and helpless in the trunk. Vixen drove me down unpaved roads and scuffed our tires. I persisted to plead for a break, but one of Vixen's chief qualities is her apathy. After months of intense therapy and rehab, I finally escaped the trunk. I shifted from the passenger and back seats, contingent on how much time could elapse before the car required a refuel. After innumerous efforts to achieve 30-day abstinence, Vixen took the passenger seat. I hesitated to touch the wheel―afraid I would wreck both of us. I had not forgotten how to drive, but I forgot the traffic rules. Simple guiding principles like stoplights were difficult to realign myself to conform to. The only light in Vixen's world signaled “go;” even red meant “keep going”. It seemed unnatural to stop and “yield” did not exist in Vixen's vocabulary. My folly was a recipe for relapse. Lest our psychosis lost you, allow me to elaborate. I am a recovering sex addict. In order to grasp a clue at who controls my behaviors, I compartmentalize. As such, I personified the part of my mind that is plagued with an illness. She, Vixen, is like an escape artist. She's mastered the skills to escape what is real and deny what is true. She abducts our body into her alternative universe and I return with black and blue and welted evidence of our travels. My unadulterated self is impaired with shame and disgust. I see Vixen's graffiti plastered on my body's canvas and it reminds me of her grueling obsessions and masochism. Not that I would ever desire to, but even if forced, I could never escape to the places Vixen is so familiar with. It is her realm, not mine. Thus, I struggle with dissonance and impulses on a daily basis. Dissonance is a frustrating state that devours my energy and cognition. Denial worms its way into my head despite my efforts to banish it. Rationalization, minimization, ritualization, manipulation and crazy-making are only a handful of potent enablers. The constant questions of “who” and “what” confuse even the simplest of ideas, hence the medication to keep me functional―if you would even call us that. Despite failures, I can now intellectualize my behaviors, but whether that belongs on my excuse list or my sobriety strategies: I do not know. But I do understand that ignoring Vixen only intensifies her outbursts, like the one I endured prior to my first lapse―the prerequisite to a relapse: Salty, fiery tears streamed down my cheeks and collected in a damp puddle underneath my bed. I clung onto the metal framework, hiding from voices that echoed off the innards of my skull. White noise screeched in the background like nails on a chalkboard. I am amazed that my neck did not snap while I tucked my head into myself like an isopod crustacean. I gasped for air as if I were being water-boarded by my own tears. I felt like an ant being tortured under a scorching microscopic light with malicious eyes watching its every movement. I could not help but wonder if death was the only escape. My fingers type anxiously as I complete this work. I have so many voices to speak for, but such little language to communicate with. Delusion skews my vision of reality. As I prepare to close my thoughts, Vixen insists to secure the last word, but no. Patrick Carnes' are the words I want to conclude my piece. “Addiction is an illness of escape….it cripples the core ability to know what is real because…rationalizations and delusions make it impossible to cope with details.”

What motivates us? So much constantly happens in this world. It's hard to find a moment of tranquility, a moment of nothingness that would allow an escape from the busyness of the world. The existing chaos is inherently embedded in the environment that surrounds me. How often can we identify a single reason behind an action? Every choice is tied to a thousand choices we've made, and a thousand more that have yet to actualize. Hardly anything is ever truly and completely insignificant. Something comes out of everything. So, what is it? What makes me study, write, love, hate? There's fear, there's hope, there's time, and ability. And there's more. Which is the strongest? It's not an unwillingness to admit it, but a true difficulty in clarification. How much does it take? We try to make sense of situations with logic and reasoning, yet, remain subject to emotions. Despite lacking tangibility, these have enormous power and strength. These impulses, I would say, have the most influence on us. I can spend hours deliberating something as simple as choosing a song to purchase, ultimately buying nothing at all. When motivated by something less explainable, somehow I could purchase an album from an artist I'd never heard of. Action comes much faster. In terms of time, at least, emotion is more efficient and effective, although it wouldn't make sense to others. It'd be impossible to force someone to understand my feelings, because no thought process exists, really. There's nothing to explain. The same abstract nature, though, makes these appeals all the more compelling. Paradoxically, they seem unrefutable. Having arisen in the absence of facts, they cannot be torn down by facts. What keeps us from quitting? A fundamental difference remains between this question and the first. The reasoning behind staying in a situation is consistent. Always fear, of the unknown, unsure, and variations of this concept. So again, how much does it take? The emotions here often counteract each other. They don't act suddenly; instead, they persist until you've made a choice that satisfies them all, or until one's importance diminishes. After much consideration, I've decided to quit tennis. I've played for 8 years. My parents spent a lot on lessons, and I'd intended to keep the class through high school. I enjoy playing, and the exercise is beneficial, but rarely do I get it. I'm not particularly good, I don't have friends in that class, and the class is unstructured. These factors mean I rarely play during class, especially recently. With that, my coach, who already tends to be insensitive and derogatory, doesn't like me. There's an element of hatred, usually neutralized by some enjoyment. That neutrality--you'd imagine these issues'd cancel out, subsequently being resolved, when the turmoil has become completely unsatisfiable. There's judgment. We'll never be able to do anything in isolation; others' opinions often hold more prominence than our own do. And of course, there's the immensity of the unknown. Familiarity, that really promises nothing, is appealing purely because it's certain. With this mindset, if pain is certain, at least you've been exposed to it, you know how to manage it. It might be worse elsewhere. This reasoning, this is where comfort becomes dangerous. How much, then, does it take to quit everything? Suicide. The 11th leading cause of all deaths in America, which doesn't even rank in the top quarter of countries by suicide rates. Even more frighteningly, attempts are an estimated 20 times that of completed suicides. It is when the value of life seems destroyed by suffering, when all opportunity for recovery seems extinguished, when such little happiness in existence makes oblivion seems more appealing, when life seems incapable of yielding further joy, when breathing seems a strenuous responsibility, when no one stops you, that you welcome the apparent promise of nothingness of death. And that happens all too often. A willingness to give up life means that everything, everything was worth less than nothing. Even if somehow the one day were erased, all the emptiness, which devours until it leaves a mere shell, would remain. But reality is distorted. How can you recognize worth when your own mind is suffocating? Whose responsibility is it? How much can bystanders do?How much can we possibly expect them to say to our faces? Can you tell? It's always obvious afterward. It hurts to remember. Because every time we think of them, we think of how little we'd done. We've let these people slip right through our fingers, right in front of our eyes. They were made of glass, we took a glance at the cracks, and mistook them for design. Without understanding their fragility, we brush them away. Each time I think of his smile, I forget, for a moment. The moment passes. And I fall apart. Coming back to reality when someone else can't, is painfully startling. Could I have saved him? No, honestly. Was it his freedom, or was it murder?

It's a fact: you are the most intelligent species to walk the earth. Now, what if I told you that despite the magnitude of intelligence you possess, your brain is playing games with you every single day? What if I told you that you fall for it repeatedly without even realizing, and what if I said that it's not really your fault that you are so easily manipulated? If you have been a victim to your two brains, then you are indeed a human being, and I fall in your category. I say that science has heeded reasoning for why things happen, but simply studying it does not solve personal problems. Alas, I sometimes sit here with all the answers, but not enough strength to actually act and apply. That being said, I would like to discuss my brains: one has ruined my life as much as it has kept me alive, and the other is not there for me when I need it most. I want to tell you why we may be the most adept creatures on the planet, but truly, we have yet to persist in outsmarting our own brains. An afternoon in high school involved the tedious travel down clogged hallways to where my English class was held. Upon entering the class, insightful students, who were indeed intellectually intimidating at times, filled the seats. English has always been my favorite class and specialty: opinions are evaluated instead of judged, and the beauty of language is used to express various ideas and facts. What sends my nerves down a dark tunnel is the discussion period of English class. Everyone is to sit in a large circle as ideas, quotes, questions and opinions are thrown into conversation. Sounds simple, right? It does not make me anxious to speak and confront others, but I sat in that discussion circle holding my tongue, because I felt pulled back by something, and I was overthinking it. Put yourself in my mind for a moment: ideas are circulating, but they are not formulated correctly, so I must structure these ideas before I can project them out loud. I must then quickly script the order of how I will emit my scrambled words out into the open, and recite them in my head a few times beforehand. At this point I have no clue what carries on in the class conversation, so now I must listen in, and wait to add my contribution within the perfect moment. Then, the most tragic occurrence takes place within the dialogue in my mind. I wait for the opportune moment to speak, and in that time frame I decide this: my ideas aren't even important, and they were never good enough anyways. And I did not speak in that discussion. This happens daily, in conversational scenarios, in life changing steps, anything that requires an instinctual override and an emotional stability. Overthinking and excuses have stopped me at my limits, where I turn around, then walk back to the comfort zone. I face my limits every day, and yet I still turn back every time. We are right to blame ourselves in this feat, but we are wrong to wallow in doubt. To make this as simple as possible, our brain is made of two parts: primal instinct and complexity. This complexity is the best representation of ourselves. It's love and beliefs, emotions and morals, and it's what makes us the most different from any other species. It's what makes us diverse individuals. What disturbs this complexity is the other guy who does not sympathize with you at all: primal instinct. This part of the brain only cares to increase our rate of survival. When the two parts interact, it can get quite foggy, and disable us from making decisions that would benefit our lives. When I chose not to speak in the class discussion circle, my instinct brain made excuses for my complex brain: "Your ideas aren't good enough" really translates to "your comfort is being threatened". This primal part of our brain serves to help us survive, but it can really interfere with the goals we make as a progressive species, and that's why we must learn to outsmart our brains. We think to just change habits, right? No. Change them FAST, and I mean within five seconds fast. An instinct is an unlearned behaviour that happens quickly without any thought process. When I now have ideas, I simply say them without the extended process of overthinking. Repeating these actions creates habits, and there is no reason for the complex brain to make excuses. It's as easy as it sounds, but it takes quick determination and perseverance, and more importantly it makes us mentally stronger to withhold the instinctual brain. We are creatures of complexity and discovering our capacities to control and change our mental functions proves that we are rightful as the smartest organisms on earth. With two brains we are goal oriented. We are dreamers and doers with passions and plans. We are able and worthy of far more than we hold accountable for ourselves. I force myself to contradict the negative comfort tactics my brain can succumb to, and I find myself becoming more armored every day. With two brains, the limit is undefined.