u/BoringWorker205

I've sort of mentioned this in a previous post. And I'm positive it won't be the last time. I feel like there's something here... or I hope there is, because I'm pretty miserable for what would appear to most as no reason... I hate how I'm briefing over so much, which I guess is why I struggle so much to write about it. But will give it another shot.
Here's some more stream of consciousness about it:

I've been on my own little journey rediscovering (or just plain discovering) what art and expression mean to me. It's been years. I've begun writing, an obsession with weird movies, and even found my way back to some bits of music. I used to be a professional musician that never gave the things I wanted to do the time.
Maybe a year ago I started a very deep journey back into a few very specific musical outlets. And one of which absolutely and positively ignited something that I could feel very deep within me that absolutely changed what it all meant, that was organic. Like I was finally metabolizing something without getting distracted by my own judgements of it. I had to come to it slowly, and weed helped a lot over the years. Maybe 5 months ago I started realizing that it was actually "good".. in a way that would like surprise musician friends I used to play with. Not that that matters all that much, just something I noticed and got excited about.

I'd been talking to my talk therapist about some aspects of this journey for years. Though much of it I was uncertain about and wouldnt know how to explain even if i wanted to.
I began talking about one particular artist that I'd rediscovered who I realized actually meant something to me. Something I felt very very deeply about, and that was largely what ignited this "authentic" voice, like I was given an outlet to process so much.
I began playing in my room again, I started back on a bit of software I wanted to make to do some creative projects that I'd been avoiding. It was building up to full steam ahead. I wanted to give this a real outlet, not knowing what I was going to do entirely, but knowing that it's all completely about the process was a big deal for me. I finally felt I could just feel my way though.

After many months of ranting and raving about what this artist represented to me, and how it tied together into reality many worlds I felt I'd exploring within myself, she stated her curiosity about how they sounded. I guess to me I felt like, I'd been talking about it all this time, why didnt you want to check it out before on your own time. Either way, I almost immediately began panicking. I figured I'd show something that had to do with some immediate projects I wanted to continue working on. -- I panicked while I played a few snippets on my phone and she didnt say much, she often doesn't say much, jsut lets me rant and zone out in ways that I sometimes feel might be enabling, though I digress.

Something about it did some stuff to me. Right away I no longer felt I could exist in that world. It had been shut off to me. I get youtube recommendations to listen to the music, or similar things, and i have to say not interested because it almost physically hurts to see.

The "flow" that unequivocally changed my musical voice is 100% gone. It was somatic, it was improvised, it was very real (this is a part I struggle to talk about because of how difficult it is to convince someone that it's real without sounding like a desperate loser). It's just gone-- or it's lying beneath something I need to deal with.

At first, I was wondering why tf any of this happened, I still get deeply angry, I've never wanted to actually kill myself before (I wont, but it's certainly that desperate). All I see are quotes about how if you dont give a neurosis a creative outlet it will consume you. And I'd found that I'd been consumed for over a decade, probably more.

Anyway, after some difficult reflection, I've found that this feels so severe because I think it's happened before, and it was life changing.
Now I start to feel angry as I type, because I need to get something out but I'm so tired of trying to get it out there... especially when just a couple months ago that creative outlet had really emerged.
I really dont want any responses about "just give the outlet some time and dont push yourself too hard.. The whole point is that something is here and has been here for ages, and it's controlled my life, and if I "LET IT GO" as so many will suggest, nothing will ever change..
Sorry, going to keep typing.

While I'm positive I have a mother complex, I still don't know if that's what's truly at play here, but am starting to suspect?
The "big thing" that happened over 13 years ago now was, after maybe 8 months of learning to live with a weed induced dpdr (and neuropathic symptoms), I had what shouldve been a long awaited breakup. At worst, it might take some time to get over, and I was managing fine. But one night, I'd accidentally consumed some weed by a pretty irresponsible roommate (love them to death but this really frustrated me). For whatever reason, struggling with the dpdr and neuropathic symptoms (that I'm 100% are stress-related, I emotionally imploded. I felt apart from the world I wanted to learn to be in. Infinitely distant and unable to explain why it all hurt so much. Afterward, and even until now (though it's not as severe usually), whenever I'd see or hear something even remotely sexual, I'd feel pain all over my body, but especially my groin area. And I mean deep, deep, pain. Like I was reminded of being cast out over and over and over.

I can explain a little better the details and timeline of that collapse, because there was an instance of "showing my gf something I'd gotten her" to complete and absolute deaf ears that also coincided with what cemented this collapse. Not unlike feeling like I need to show this to my therapist.

It's completely gone, and it hurts. I was finally ready to make something and share it, after all this time. And now I'm being cuckholded by life once again?

Another instance is something I felt when I'd had a weird emotional reaction to someone that I'd liked, who while she was terrific and interesting, I'd been projecting onto pretty hardcore. Felt similar I think.

Here's the part that gets me.. or that ties together some vague notions I've had floating around.. but it might be too convenient. The devouring mother complex can apparently have much to do with personal creative sabatoge.. or something like that.

When I was very young, maybe 4 or 5, I remember being in the middle of sitting down to take a poo in a relatively small corner bathroom with some of that old repeating pattern wallpaper. I was suddenly overcome with space, distance, fear. Like I could not come back to the world of my family, which is a world that my mother curates exclusively. I turned away from it, and ran to her ( don't remember if I went to the bathroom first lol)..

I feel like there was some other stuff to mention that could be mother complex related, but I cant remember at the moment.

Anyway, I don't know what happened. I don't know what's blocking me. And while it hurts incredibly deeply, I think it's also helped me turn inward in a way that I've been struggling to do, even though the music turned me inward very deeply too, though you know.. its no longer available to me rn.
I didn't really mention that so much of my coming back to art has been accompanied by weed. And I think it's been legitimately therapeutic.
Though, for example yesterday, I took some yesterday and walked a few miles to a pier, stared at the water and faced some terror that I think mightve been sitting there for a while. I'm sure there's much more where it came from. I know there's much sadness sitting around. And I guess I'm sad that I don't have the creative outlet that I just did to metabolize.. because I felt willing to sit deeper in these things because of the creative process in itself. I also was feeling like I could suddenly sing and draw and write stories and make movies and all that (even just as a hobby, movies have been really special to me too), just because I was orienting with my own albeit disoriented perspective.

Anyway, I'm still writing, and there are still things occurring in me that I'm sort-of trying to account for creatively. It's just a whole lot of uncertainty.

The terror I faced at the pier yesterday was, on one end imagining that everything was ok, and on the other end... what if it wasnt. What if I'm trapped in my psychotic self unable to get back to reality. Or something like that.
Maybe there was a similar terror in that bathroom so long ago?

The same way sexual things (and so many things you wouldn't think of as being remotely sexual) trigger me, I feel somewhat similarly (though less physical pain and slightly less despair) with the music stuff.

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I know there's a lot going on here. I've been trying to write about it for months but every time I do I'm just completely overwhelmed by confusion, disorientation, despair and deep anger. I'm literally praying these days and in some ways feel like I might accidentally be invoking some active imagination stuff trying to keep everything in view.

I know it's a privilege to be able to even create in the first place. But that final piece of authenticity that just let me resonate deeply with everything I heard.. and in a way that I could express it. It spilled over from music and drumming into almost everything else.

And I feel like when I talk about "forgetting this idea" or "losing my creativity", I know it's so easy for someone to smile and talk about how normal and innocent it sounds cause it happens to everyone. While I know we all struggle with it, I promise I'm not wallowing in despair about losing some ideas. I did music as a kid, went to school for it, kinda-sorta did it for a living/passion after. This is something else. I've lost my ability to listen to and communicate with myself. And the literal door that opened it all up for me seems to be either bolted shut.. something.

Anyway, I'm happy to clarify anything you see here. I'm curious about sabotage and puer and devouring mother and creativity and blah blah.

I've been thinking about trying ayahuasca in a month or so on a big personal trip I've been wanting to take (though am much more indifferent about it now, as my original reason was for the excitement of some shimmery colorful cultural and musical stuff, no more ofc). But I made a post about fearing I was going insane not too long ago and someone mentioned that maybe I should hold off because I don't sound grounded. But I literally don't know what other choice I have..

The other question is, should I find another therapist? I know I didn't mention too much about them or some of the background, but I've been wondering it for a while. It's talk therapy, and I mostly just rant.. from a very anxious part of me.. And I feel like I need to be doing things that are more somatic and active imagination stuff.

I want to be able to do what I was just doing. I can't tell you how much it hurts. I want to believe it was "meant to be" and it's just the universes cheeky way to reel me into myself or something. But I was already doing this.. hense the hardcore burst of cathartic creativity.

Mk I'm just ranting now. Going to hit post. Thanks (and apologies) to all of you <3

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Edit: I wanted to add that I (maybe) feel like there's a little me and a big me here. And I suppose that's why I feel the word integration might be taking shape. I go back and forth between utter thrashing and remaining absolutely still. If the latter is a part of me, it tries to keep this stillness out of commitment to the creative voice that was emerging in me. I go back and forth between freaking out and still feeling tiny bits and pieces of what I feel I lost.
Additionally, I feel like this could be absolutely nothing, but my level of reaction in and of itself tells me that I need to address something that's in the room with me right now. So I guess I'm looking around trying to do just that. Why do i feel like I was robbed of something? I didn't want to share yet (part of me obviously did, but I wanted to communicate it differently, and maybe in my session it felt like that deeper conversation was broken, or finding that it was ignored? I'm not sure... just rambling again. <3

Can Aya really help me?

Is there something to integrate here?

this really feels like insanity