MUSHROOM m i n d

By Steph Raymond All Rights Reserved ©

Other / Poetry



Alex sat across from her at the kitchen table in their parent’s home.

Gemma always looked forward to her conversations with her brother.

They shared kindred minds and did their very best to be a

l i g h t

for the other when they could see them sinking.

“What’s going on?”

Alex asked, sympathetic to her tears.

“It’s kind of embarrassing to talk about.”

“don’t be embarrassed,

There’s a good chance I’ll understand.”

Gemma nodded without lifting her head.

“Well you know I had my

psychiatric evaluation…”


“Well I guess I’m just having a hard time…

like not with the pills for once.

It’s weird.

I’m just gradually having this

feeling of being brought back to earth.

It’s been so long since I experienced life this way.

But now, I’m just feeling confused.

Honestly I feel like I’m having an identity crisis,

and it’s hitting me hard.”

Alex narrowed his eyes in concern,

“Why? What did she say?”

Gemma took a deep breath,

“that my official diagnosis is bi-polar type 2

with bipolar psychosis.”

“What exactly is bi-polar psychosis?”

“Well…I only just researched it

after she diagnosed me.

And that’s why I’m having a hard time.

Because the symptoms are basically

anything and everything I’ve considered


about myself.

Now I feel stupid because I read these things,

and logic now tells me it’s all in my head.

But even with the pills

I can feel it.

I can feel those things about myself.”

“What are the symptoms?”

Gemma pulls out her phone,

“Here, I’ll read some:

Grandiose delusions about being special,

or possessing special abilities,


like hearing voices, seeing ghosts

there was a time I thought aliens were

in our room in Ottawa…

all the voices and experiences,

all of my recent spiritual transitions and messages…

is it all in my head?”

“No Gemma.

Stop. I really don’t like that.

I don’t want you to doubt yourself.

You are not the only one who knows those

things to be true. You can sense things people shut

themselves down to. Never doubt that.

And you know, yea maybe the term psychosis exists

because people felt the need to categorize something

they couldn’t understand, as crazy or unstable.”

She looked at him now,

“You think so?”


It’s like that video you sent me about

Van Gough. About the way he was accurately

able to paint fluid turbulence only

when he painted during psychotic episodes.

And this was years before fluid turbulence was even discovered,

because he was perceiving something in that state that

the unconscious eye cannot.”

Her brother had always been

wiser than his years;

and Gemma could feel

the truth in his words and decided to

b e l i e v e

in herself once and for all.

After all, she knew the mind to be as

complex a thing to grasp as the notion of God or the Universe.

Perhaps because the two are

intricately linked.


h i g h e r

the mind

the closer to God

and the next stage of our

spiritual evolution.

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