I am an experiencer with two forced hospitalizations behind me. Both times, I was isolated from other patients, and both times, I was forcibly medicated.
The reason for my hospitalizations is that at some point, I was perceived as psychotic. I will try to nuance this condition somewhat.
It all began with an experience of seeing something greater than myself while under (cannabis) intoxication in the summer of 1996. This triggered a chain of thoughts I have not been able to let go of. The experience didn’t fit into my worldview, which at the time was strongly shaped by my studies in the natural sciences at the University of Oslo.
In the 1990s, I was not open to anything that could not be proven with absolute certainty. Anything else was not true for me. That summer, life suddenly became marked by anxiety and depression because I could not make sense of the world.
In 2003, seven years after this experience, I had a transcendental experience in a wooded area in Askim. I felt I stepped out of my body and into another world, where time and space didn’t exist. Here, I experienced balance within myself, in the world, and in the universe. The problem was that I couldn’t put the experience into words.
I tried to explain my experiences to those around me but was judged as someone with thoughts that deviated from society’s norms. This led to my forced hospitalization and medication. I was never aggressive or threatening, just eager – because I had seen something important.
With the medication, I adapted to society – quiet and withdrawn. But I no longer felt like myself. It was as if I had been chemically lobotomized. I am a member of MENSA, but at that time, I didn’t feel like a good candidate. My thoughts didn’t work properly.
Over 20 years followed, during which I continued to ponder what I had experienced. This summer (2024), I entered a new state where I believed I finally understood my reflections.
Once again, I was forcibly hospitalized and medicated. I experienced that the world around me did not understand my thoughts. I wasn’t met with understanding or attempts to challenge my beliefs. This made me very stressed.
I was admitted because I thought differently. I had no hallucinations, no sensory disturbances, and I was not a danger to myself or others. I simply thought – and tried to communicate my thoughts.
To make a long story short: I have opened up to the possibility that my experiences can be seen in the context of there being more between heaven and earth than we realize. That life consists of more than mathematically proven axioms. I believe that philosophy and spirituality should play a greater role in our understanding of the world.
My over 30 years of pondering have led to an acknowledgment. I have developed a philosophical system that works for me personally. In engaging with this part of myself, I find peace and no longer feel stressed about my thoughts. I accept myself – and my thoughts.
I therefore believe that the solution for many who struggle with mental health issues may be to open up to the idea that our thoughts are not necessarily wrong but true for us. At the same time, we must understand that not everyone shares these thoughts.
The healthcare system must change how it perceives us who think differently. We must be seen as reflective individuals – not just as sick diagnoses with faulty genes. You must try to understand us and help us understand how we can adapt our thoughts to the world we live in – or how society can embrace and implement our perspectives into its worldview. For it is beautiful.»
A Simple Explanation of Myself
For those who don’t know, here’s a confession:
I am a member of MENSA. In fact, I even serve on the board of Mensa Østfold. I’m not sharing this to elevate myself but to help you understand me better.
For me, having this capacity for thought is exhausting. It hurts. I overthink a lot and understand little—or rather, I excel in some areas but fall short in most.
I always filter myself in coexistence with others—a filter that slows down my thoughts as they make their way to the recipient. My mind works far faster than most conversations allow, and the pace of interactions and the progress of new realizations through dialogue often bore me. It’s just not fast enough. That’s also why I often find watching movies or reading books tedious.
Perhaps you’re thinking, “What an arrogant bastard,” but this is just my reality.
Overthinking often results in people misunderstanding why I say or do things. Nearly everything I say or do is backed by layers of analysis. And since I lack sufficient understanding of how others think and react to my initial starting points (having lived much of my life on the fringes and lacking necessary social experience), things sometimes come out wrong. I’ve learned that trying to explain my thought process often just makes things worse.
“Stop thinking so much,” you might say. “Sure,” I’d reply, “but it’s hard not to think.”
This is one of my biggest inner demons, and yes, even this explanation is the result of overthinking!
There—it feels good to share this. You can now wonder about the layers of analysis behind this post, which is most likely a foolish thing to share.
Best regards.