"To engage Phnouthis for a moment; do you not think that severe mental things maybe caused by entities which maybe pushed away by drugs? the brains chemical reactions are a manifestation of spiritual energy. by the same token if u can effect your brain it may effect the energy and make it 'not so tastey'."
I have good reason to think so. About 7 years ago, I was helping my neighbor at the time (he was also my friend and employer), George, install insulation in an attic-like upper room which we had just built as part of a new addition on his house. After lunch, I took about four puffs from his bowl, and then went upstairs to resume my work. After a short while, I began to see my thoughts in front of me, as if on a television screen: I witnessed an image of my mom's boyfriend transmorph into a solar-radiant, benevolent figure handing gifts out to little children, and thence into the roadrunner, with his characteristic, "meep meep." I started to laugh hysterically, but upon reflection I couldn't tell if I were laughing out loud, of if I were simply laughing internally. My inability to settle on a conclusion made me somewhat uneasy, and the next thing I knew, my own bodily appearance was beginning to take on a cartoonish form--I was growing the snout of an animated moose. I couldn't stop it; I exclaimed to myself: "Holy ****, I'm turning into Bowinkle." I rushed downstairs, intent on telling my boss that I had to go home, that I was turning into an animated moose, into Bowinkle. After reciting this to myself, I realized how ridiculous I was being; the hallucination had already ceased, so I went back upstairs to resume my work. As I began cutting the insulation, however, there descended upon me this compulsion to slash myself with the box cutter I was using. As I fought to dismiss such thoughts, they only became stronger, until, in panic, I dropped the box cutter, and deliberated about whether I should go home after all. After recovering my sense, I would then pick up the box cutter and resume my work--I repeated this process several times. Eventually, the compulsions became so powerful and present that I felt them around me, as if they had coalesced into a separate and intelligent entity that was ubiquitous around me; my panic reached its zenith, but as I erected myself to deliberate again, I didn't drop the box cutter, and as I peered down that darkended, long attic room, I felt that presence of pure wickedness that permeates the ambience of the best horror movies--but suddenly the compulsion changed its target, pronouncing its intent within me with that degree of clarity and decisiveness that characterizes the most definite thoughts: "Go downstairs, and slash George." I was horrified! I fought and writhed, and argued with it, but it was much more clever, and was able to use "my own" mind to manipulate my objections by instantaneously calling into question the background assumptions of those objections, even before they could articulate themselves to my representational understanding (this is perhaps why the devils are considered fallen angels, not just nature spirits; they have higher-than-human mentality, but with the instinctual set of the fiercest natural predator). This went on for quite sometime, and my attention on this aspect of "my" consciousness, did reveal it to my interpretation as a distinct and foreign entity that had somehow infiltrated my barriers. Needless to say, arguing with it entagled me more into its web, for, as I reflected at the time, it was itself supplying me with the combative spirit by which I could argue; argument, fighting, hostility, and the like were its very nature. Eventually, after realizing that I couldn't fight it, I resolved to maintain the "happy thought," no matter what it threatened or attempted; after meeting with success by this method, I stumbled upon the close association of the sun whose rays were breaking through the octogonal window above me, and the happy thought which appeared to be my only salvation. At length, the "devil" went away; I burst out laughing, with the intuition that somehow, the whole universe was emanating from my heart.
I do not think that the depression itself is an evil spirit, but, rather, that depression can be the psychological symptom in our organism of the active presence of such a spirit. Nevertheless, for those who follow the Path of the Serpent, I do not see how periodic bouts of depression can be avoided.
If I were indeed a Magus, I would have to conclude that the manifestation of anti-depressants in the human sphere is brought about by spirits--and is, in some way, inseparable from their ever active, creative organization of matter. I am not inclined to think, however, that these entities are pushed away; intead I would say that we have chemically altered the activities of the emotional/instictual layers of our psyche in such a way, that we are no longer capable of making that confrontation with those aspects of existence which dropped our confidence, certainty, and thus joy in the first place; we have, as it were, and at best, found a way of returning to those more pleasant areas of cognition, those more in accordance with the emotional needs of our creaturely selves. However, my assessment would not cover all types of depression, as "depression" is merely a name for a collection of symptoms that can have a variety of different causal histories.
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