I'm flying

I love that. Both the feeling and the phrase that describes it. It's so accurate. I love flying 'across the headspace'.

I'm fascinated by the moment when my mind slips in there. I feels a bit like fainting at first. You lose contact with reality. Your body stops perceiving the external world the way you used to know. To certain degree you lose awareness of what happens with your body.

You enter a new world. Without travelling anywhere, without any narcotic drugs. The new world is created entirely by your own mind, flooded with endorphins and adrenaline.

Each time I'm there I try to explore that place as much as possible. But it's not easy, what I usually remember are just flashes of memories. Feelings more than events.

It's a really sweet madness. Some of my senses are lost. My vision is blurred, colours fade. I can't really move, think or talk in any organised way. The way how those abilities go away is very relaxing.

Ability to talk vanishes first but I still can think. Sometimes even quite complex things but when I try to vocalize them, I can't. All I can mutter is 'please', 'no', 'don't', 'I'm sorry'. Not much more.

My mobility is limited. Moving my hands or legs voluntarily can take couple of minutes when my mind unsuccessfully tries to regain control over my body. It's like my mind and body are no more one. My mind travels to a new place, to where body can't follow.

Pain pushes me deeper and deeper.

Did I mention the tears? They are everywhere as I can't control them at all. Sometimes I can see them, absent-mindedly, creating a small puddle on the floor. Sometimes I need to use all my free will to keep breathing. Even swallowing saliva is something I have to concentrate upon.

It's all so primal, my all body reactions limited to an instinct. No complex activities, just survival. It's all so wonderfully natural. Out of pure pain. And it involves so much trust. So much liberation comes from the fact that there is someone there who knows exactly how to play with me. Which buttons to press. So I know I'm safe.

That's when I truly feel helpless and vulnerable. It's both scary and thrilling.

Sometimes I can almost feel the moment when my mind liberated from my body begins its journey. Its journey to the darkest parts of my psyche.

I'm absolutely fascinated by that process. My scientific mind want to understand it all, take it to the smallest pieces, digest and absorb. All. At once. But it doesn't work like that. Maybe better. The mystery of it plays a huge role after all.

I know the pain is involved. A lot of pain. It always scares me how much I will need to suffer to go there and stay even for a couple of minutes. But it's worth. It's so rewording.

Surfacing is as fascinating as 'drowning'. Painful stimulus dies first, but the level of endorphins is still high. Suddenly I realise that I'm again in control of my body. I can think and my first thought is always the same – 'Thank you!' Soon ability to move comes back as well. I open my eyes and the reality is there. No blurred shapes, no faded colours. Tears dry out on my face.

I'm back. With amazing memories of the fascinating world my mind creates if stimulated properly. By pain. No sexual stimulation involved. It's how my mind finds its own orgasm.