Last night I found myself afflicted with a bizarre, psychosis-fueled insomnia. I found I couldn’t sleep, and my thoughts were picking up speed like a freight train and becoming obsessive.
I lay in my bed, staring at the ceiling, when suddenly, I “realized” it. I was the only one in the world who could see what was wrong with world; I was so special. And it was my job–my duty to fix it. I was meant to. I almost felt a sense of divine purpose.
And as I lay there stricken with delusional thought, my eyes brimmed with tears.
It was so wonderful, so powerful. I thought I had been appointed a sense of purpose, perhaps from some higher being. My mind was totally enraptured by the idea.
Then, eventually, the psychosis passed as it ever does, and I was left grounded abruptly in reality, my delusion shattering at my feet. And I was not some kind of messiah. I was just another member of humanity.
I had not realized anything.
And this is how I fell asleep.