Dear Mom, Please Hear Me. Not Fix Me.

What I am walking is not standard human experience, and because there isn't a common context for it, it’s so easy for it to be mislabeled. I want to share what is actually happening, because when it gets called something it isn't, it feels like the reality of what I'm navigating gets erased.

For nine years, I built my life on a guidance system so precise and real that doubt barely existed. Every step was literally shifted and shaped by that field.

What My Perception Is Doing

Lately, my perception has been doing things that are terrifyingly vast:

Rooms that don't render: I have walked into rooms that don't render. My perception gets stolen by the slightest shift of focus—a TV, a screen, a sound—to the point where I am no longer in perceived existence. Not the room, not my body. I am sitting before perception even renders, fully aware of its transparency.

The glass wall: There are times I am locked behind a glass wall of awareness, where perception doesn't fold, and I can no longer perceive tangibility or the world, and yet, somehow, my body is still walking inside of it, talking to people and driving a car.

The sudden shift: And then, that entire guidance system was stripped away overnight. I was left sitting in nothing but confusion, agony, and an existential crisis so deep that the very concept of choice itself stopped making sense.

Why Standard Frameworks Don't Fit

When you look at this and see depression or anxiety, or think something is biologically and medically wrong, I completely understand why. You are looking through the framework of what you know and have experienced, using the words and frames you are familiar with to try and make sense of my struggle.

But those words don't fit me. They don't come close.

I can't accept those frameworks because none of them land on what I am actually walking. It isn't a medical diagnosis; it is a profound structural shift.

The Full Picture of What I Have Been Through

Let me give you the more full picture of what I have been through:

The Trajectory: Years of unexplainable psychedelic consistency. Then nine months of an exponential destiny guided trajectory, after a piercing of the field that imploded my perception and sent me freefalling through months of experience most people only glimpse on psychedelics. Field stripping. Perception shattering. Reality rewriting itself over and over. Things no human I know has ever walked or likely will in this same way.

The Floor: Then three months lying on the floor because my perception had become so vast I could no longer fit in the world. My field would not cohere to it. I literally could not function because reality as I knew it no longer existed.

The Void: The field and guidance I had known for years stripped away. And I landed in an existential void, not knowing how to do life. Because the field I tuned every move with, and I had built my orientation of life around, stepped aside.

The Integration: I pierced the substratum and have been integrating the aftermath. That is why the guidance has gone quiet, why the field that was tuning my every move, has stepped aside.

This Week's Purge

Even this week, navigating this void brought up an intense self-hate pattern. But it wasn't a breakdown—it was a physical purge of all the force I've been carrying. The agony, the hatred, and the intense resistance all happened because I was forcing when my system was screaming at me to stop. I had so much hate for myself over FOMO that wasn't even real.

But you can't be angry when you're in acceptance of something—not even acceptance, but when you stop forcing and see the genius of it, the purpose of it. What I need in those moments is to really allow it to be expressed, and then it can become more clear. In those exact moments, I don't need it to be fixed; I actually just need the space to express it, and then it is released. The more I respect myself and listen to that stop, the less that hate will come up. But when it does flare, it just needs room to clear.

Processing the Agony and Rebuilding

Of course I am struggling. Of course I am confused. Of course I am in existential agony. This is the only natural response when everything you have built your reality on is stripped away, and the massive internal friction of trying to force standard execution against a screaming system takes its toll. It happens when you are left orienting to an entirely new way of being that is no longer guided and tuned like you are used to. When the hand that was on your shoulder, pulls away.

This is not depression. This is not a breakdown. This is rebuilding from the ground up after a perceptual atomic bomb.

I don't expect you to relate to this directly. But I need you to know there are others who have walked similar terrain. Their accounts mirror mine. And so, I am not ever permanently lost. I am finding my way through something that doesn't have a clear map.

What I Need From You

I am not asking you to understand it perfectly, and definitely not to fix it.

I am asking you to hear me. To let me express my confusion, my agony, my existential terror without it being labeled. Without it being judged. Without it being seen through the lens of your framework. Without it being made wrong or needing to be fixed.

And if it is too much for you sometimes, I understand. I really do. But what I am pushing back on is not for you to hear me when you can't, because I see that you are not always capable. Rather, it is the rejection of your imposed framework. Your judgment. Your insistence on thinking you know what is going on when you don't. That is what I want you to hear.

The Reality of Being Alone in the Void

I want to be honest, that when you can't hold space for me, it is really hard. Because I am walking through something that no one around me fully understands, at least not yet. And when reality deletes, and when you are not available, the feeling of being alone in this void is almost unbearable. I need help and you are my go-to anchor. And it is not your fault when you are not there, but the terror and aloneness is real.

I am not without support. I have others I reach out to. And this transition period is exactly that. A transition. It is at its most intense right now, but it will not always be.

Acknowledging Your Experience & Moving Forward

I also want to acknowledge that I know this is not easy for you either. I know you take it in. I know it weighs on you. I know that seeing through all of this to what is really happening is not simple. And I don't have a perfect answer for that other than we do our best. We take care of ourselves. And we love each other through it, and I give you space when you need it.

I am grateful for you. Deeply. You are my mom and I love you.

What I need more than anything right now is space:

Space to say what I am feeling without it being a problem to solve.

Space to be confused without that meaning something is wrong with me.

Space to be in pain without that pain needing a name or framework.

We are doing well. Everything is ok. We can keep doing better. And I am deeply grateful.