Clothing Optional Orgy

For nearly my entire life I haven’t been able to recollect a single detail from my dreams. As a dabbler is Jungian psychology, I’ve always been jealous of those who were able to deconstruct the symbolism of their unconscious mind. I felt as though I was missing out on something that – when studied – could change my life.

It wasn’t until I started taking medication – and getting a full night’s rest – that I could remember what happened while I was asleep.

Halleluiah!

Now I get to psychoanalyze myself…

Last night I had a dream that I was at a party with nearly everyone I’ve ever been friends with. I was walking around the room with my wife when someone announced that it was “time for the orgy!”

No one got naked, but everyone schmoozed each other.

My wife and I kept walking through the room when I overheard one friend say, “oh when (Bruce) is trying to impress someone, he tries to make them laugh.”

As the party continued, no one got naked and I found myself with my head wedged between two cinderblocks, unable to pull myself free.

Eventually I was unstuck and the dream ended with no orgy, or at least not the orgy I expected.

WTF.

I opened my eyes and immediately thought that a dream of an orgy with no sex MUST represent sexual repression. It seemed obvious.

That hasty interpretation didn’t move me, so I dug a bit deeper.

Why was my head stuck in between two cinderblocks? Obviously, something is STUCK. My head – seemingly – could symbolize my mind, but why my head and not something more phallic in nature (if I’m sexually repressed)?

Hmm.

Maybe I AM sexually repressed in that there is some strange, unspoken fetish of mine that hasn’t been realized?

But again, I didn’t feel that response, either.

Then it hit me!

Being a creative thinker, my mind is what defines me! It is my mind! I have been stuck inside my head for the last two years as I’ve recovered. Though – while I’ve been stuck in my head – nothing creative has trickled out.

But what does that have to do with a climax-free orgy?

I wasn’t sure, so I did what we all do; Google. The interpretations were all “you’re sexually repressed, dummy” but it seemed like an effortless answer – the same flimsy conclusion I’d jumped to – and it lacked validity, plus the shoddy, 90s style websites I read it from furthered my distrust of their “expertise.”

I dusted off a few books and after an hour or so I found what I was looking for.

An orgy can symbolize the REPRESSION OF CREATIVE ENERGIES!

Yes!

For the last two years, my creativity has been stifled by unforeseen circumstances and it has been devastating, to say the least. I’ve felt like I had lost a piece of me when I couldn’t write, read, draw or create music. Slowly, it’s coming back, but – admittedly – I’ve been hesitant because it’s been so long that I couldn’t coherently express myself that I fear failure (not to mention I’ve been grotesquely vulnerable with what I have wrote, and it’s slightly embarrassing).

My dream was telling me that I’m creatively repressed and have been so my entire life.

Which is (mostly) true.

Even my “friends” haven’t seen the true, artistic me because I’ve held back in fear of ridicule, failure and fear of being seen as weird.

Ugh.

For over thirty-years I’ve been missing out on nightly insights like this!

I’m jelly…

The Curse of the Creative

A quote from Jordan Peterson…

“The worst thing for creative people is to not be creative.  They just die.  If you’re extroverted you can’t be cut off from people.  You just whither.  Open people have to be creative.  They have to be because otherwise they die.  They don’t have any vitality.  So, they’re cursed with the necessity of having to put one foot out into the unknown and making sense of it.  And they’re cursed with the necessity of having to make a living while they’re doing that…”

Anti-Depressants Don’t Kill Creativity, Depression Kills Creative Minds

For years I bought into the myth that “anti-depressants kill creativity.”

It is a dangerous myth that is perpetuated by quackery factories like the Scientology community and other fanatic religious movements.

The lazy practitioners of medicine and the greedy, deep pockets of the big-pharma industry don’t help by over-prescribing medication to people who don’t need it and could benefit solely from exercise, healthy eating and socialization.

But, for some of us, a healthy lifestyle isn’t enough.

Trust me.

I’ve went overboard on healthy eating and exercise regimes, I do daily meditation, I practice the wishful thinking practice of gratitude affirmations, I journal and read, I practice Cognitive Behavioural technics.

That all definitely helps.

In the short term.

Eventually, life comes crashing down for those of us with chemical imbalances in the brain.

And, it doesn’t help that there is a stigma around anti-depressants.

On one side are those people saying that “anti-depressants are a hoax perpetuated by pharmaceutical companies and doctors who receive kick-backs for prescribing them to as many people as possible, regardless of whether they need them or not.”

The other side are the people who hear the word “anti-depressant” and forever use it against you as a way to win arguments – “that’s the depression talking” – and are quick to discredit your abilities by labelling you crazy and unstable.

Then there’s the “tough-love” crowd who tell you, “just suck it up, bitch! Life is full of setbacks, so get over it and move on.”

So, no wonder so many people steer clear from seeking help for an illness that will fandangle you into suicide.

Me, on the other hand, wasn’t worried about the opinions of others; at least in regards to taking medication.

What worried me was losing my creativity because the “authorities” and “self-help gurus” kept telling me that anti-depressants would stifle my creativity.

And, creativity is one of the reasons I wake up and breathe each day.

Plus, scientist link depression and anxiety to high creativity and researchers claim that writers are 121% more likely to suffer from bipolar depression than the general population.

And, they are also 50% more likely to commit suicide.

So, I believed it was necessary to take the risk because writing wasn’t something I was willing to give up, ever.

Well, maybe not “ever…”

I believed them, because each time I wrote something – while not using medication – it got better and better.

But, that’s because I’d keep writing, every day.

Sure, depression helped me isolate myself, which provided me with endless hours of smashing the keyboard to unleash my inner rage and self-loathing, but it was at a trade-off for a normal, socially healthy lifestyle, which adds a perspective of life that the recluse can only read about .

So, consider this…

If you’re on medication and YOU KEEP BEING CREATIVE how could you possibly become LESS creative?

You can’t.

The only way your creativity will be affected by depression is if your depression kills you.

And, that’s the END GAME of the illness.

If you stay away from help and isolate yourself and write, paint, sculpt OF COURSE YOU’RE GETTING BETTER at whatever creative endeavour you pour your soul into.

But, if you’re on medication and do the same, you’ll get better, too.

That’s called practice.

And, that’s what makes you better at something.

Not depression.

So, “depression kills creativity” is backwards.

Depression kills the creative minds that refrain from using anti-depressants, antipsychotics, mood stabilizers or whatever other medications may (actually) be needed.