What caused all this

“You say you have no idea what caused or triggered this in you. I have one idea. Don’t you think that it could be the fact that you abruptly stopped drinking after consuming 4-6 drinks a day, on average, for years (decades, possibly)? Removing a heavy dose of a CNS depressant after long-term abuse (yes, that is the word I’m using for it) would constitute a pretty significant change to your brain chemistry, no? In my experience, ending habitual, daily use of a psychoactive substance for any length of time (alcohol, nicotine, cannabis, escitalopram) usually results in a big, sometimes sustained (but never permanent) change in the overall state of my consciousness. Mania hasn’t often been the way detox has gone for me, but it has happened!”

-Greg Collins

 

Yeah.  That did just dawn on me yesterday.  But the most wonderful part (In my current opinion as of 5:31 AM Friday, April 2, 2021.  To be specific, the very moment of "present" that is "now" which is infinite and everlasting while I type this to you.) is the cause kinda doesn't matter.  To me as of this very moment, those things I wrote down are true.  And since every moment is infinite and everlasting, that means those ideas will be true forever.  My attitude toward them may change as the future unfolds and becomes the present, but in this tiny, split second of a moment, they are what they are and they are wonderful.  And all we have is the present moment.

 

I'm totes curious as to what caused it.  But who cares.  Or as Buddha puts it...

 

"It's just as if a man were wounded with an arrow thickly smeared with poison. His friends & companions, kinsmen & relatives would provide him with a surgeon, and the man would say, 'I won't have this arrow removed until I know whether the man who wounded me was a noble warrior, a priest, a merchant, or a worker.' He would say, 'I won't have this arrow removed until I know the given name & clan name of the man who wounded me... until I know whether he was tall, medium, or short... until I know whether he was dark, ruddy-brown, or golden-colored... until I know his home village, town, or city... until I know whether the bow with which I was wounded was a long bow or a crossbow... until I know whether the bowstring with which I was wounded was fiber, bamboo threads, sinew, hemp, or bark... until I know whether the shaft with which I was wounded was wild or cultivated... until I know whether the feathers of the shaft with which I was wounded were those of a vulture, a stork, a hawk, a peacock, or another bird... until I know whether the shaft with which I was wounded was bound with the sinew of an ox, a water buffalo, a langur, or a monkey.' He would say, 'I won't have this arrow removed until I know whether the shaft with which I was wounded was that of a common arrow, a curved arrow, a barbed, a calf-toothed, or an oleander arrow.' The man would die and those things would still remain unknown to him."