As Ekaterina discovered, a ‘psychosis’ or ‘awakening to Christ consciousness’ experience does not discriminate; it can happen to any one of us. A successful Financier, Ekaterina was thrown into questionning her experiences, but not because of the experiences themselves; because of the negative interpretation of them by the psychiatric system…
When ‘Psychosis’ is Bliss
In 2003 something happened in my life. I ended up in a psychiatric hospital with the diagnosis ‘psychosis’. I worked as a financial analyst of banks and portfolio manager then, in the beautiful city of Amsterdam.
It was a beautiful autumn as far as I remember and not raining as much. Rain happens often in the Netherlands, but that autumn was unusual in its glory of having lots and lots of sunny days.
I enjoyed that autumn, and even more the summer which had preceded, because during that summer I met a very interesting and unusual character, called the ‘devil’ in the Bible and fiction literature.
You don’t have to believe me, of course, but this is my story, ‘mijn verhaal’, as they say it in Dutch, and despite that experience that the psychiatrists define as ‘psychosis’, fifteen years on, I still believe in my own personal truth. Yes, I met the devil, and I also saw manifestations of God.
That day stand vivid in my memory, as if it happened just yesterday. I was in my living room, in an apartment that I was lucky to get to rent, as accommodation doesn’t come easy in Amsterdam, the most beautiful city by all standards, but which is very much in demand, for both people who live there, and also for visitors. My flat was near the center, in front of one of the parks, two minutes away from the nearest canal, and canals are everywhere in Amsterdam, making it truly unique, absolutely stunning as a city.
I was sitting on the sofa, under the effect of the Chinese strong tea. The tea was prescribed to me by the Chinese medical center in Amsterdam, as a remedy to treat my gastritis. It certainly did have a strong effect, but more on my mind, rather than my stomach. I had stopped sleeping and I was experiencing total and absolute bliss, reflected also in the productivity at my work. I had been asked to monitor a portfolio of equities in August, with under-performance of seven percent. On that day in November, the portfolio was outperforming the benchmark by five percent, meaning that I had managed to change the portfolio by twelve percent in a better direction in just three months.
Yes, I felt very happy. I felt almost divine. My body was flexible, and I felt like Buddha. I could feel the sun outside, and I could feel the whole universe, as if I definitely belonged, as if I really mattered.
My TV screen was switched off, of that I was sure, as I hardly watched any TV. It was Saturday afternoon, and if I was busy with something, it was usually with a book. I remember what I was reading then. It was ‘Fear and Trembling’ by Amelie Nothomb. I was re-reading it, in French (‘Stupor et Tremblement’ in its original language), because it was among my favorite books of all times, and I loved Amelie Nothomb as a writer. She was Belgian, and I loved Belgium, where I had lived for five years in order to study in French, before I received a bursary to do an MBA in Amsterdam.
The TV screen suddenly switched on, to reveal an enticing, beautiful, convincing man, who started to tell me incredible things:
“You are beautiful,” he said, right when I thought I was ugly.
“You are smart,” he pronounced, right when I wasn’t sure about my own intellectual abilities.
“You are unique,” he added. And I believed him. It was nice to hear, it was life-affirming, it was powerful.
At the same time, incredible white doves appeared outside the large window of my living room, approaching it closer and closer, looking directly into my eyes, passing me a message directly from God. That I was powerful, that I was unique, that I was special. I was in the middle between both the devil and god, and it was only upon deep and reflective analysis (it took me more than fifteen years), that I finally reached the obvious conclusion: we can’t move on with the Bible, if we don’t forgive the devil, as well as Juda. The devil is responsible for the material side of the things, and Jesus deserves more than simply being nice, kind and homeless.
I started this story with specifying that I ended up in a psychiatric hospital with the diagnosis of ‘psychosis’.
Let’s look now at the terms and definitions from a reflective insight. I am a lecturer after all, and I like critical thinking. I always encourage it in my students.
I ended up in the hospital by my own accord, even if it was my friend and my boss who drove me there, because they simply didn’t know what to do with me. The revelations in my ‘psychosis’ were too much for this world, they were too ‘grand’ to manage them on my own, while also holding a very responsible job, living in a foreign country, learning Dutch, and taking part in other earthly things of this world, such as how to have a nice meal, and drink a nice glass of wine in the evening.
The psychiatrists all started to sing the same thing to me, to no avail, once I entered the premises of the psychiatric hospital for the first time. That I was out of touch with reality (that’s the definition of their term ‘psychosis’), that my visions and voices were simply delusions on my part, and that I suffered from ‘delusion of grandeur’. Straight when I arrived at the hospital, I declared myself as ‘Buddha’.
But let’s look at ‘psychosis’ again, let’s stare at that abstract entity in a deep and profound way, admire it as an impressionist painting, as a piece of art, that can be open to different meanings and interpretations.
The ‘psychosis’, at least how I experienced it, is a bliss. It is the most profound and beautiful experience one can get, when it comes naturally (I was helped with the Chinese tea though). It is enlightenment in its most profound way, it is the ultimate connection with God, and the beauty of this universe, when you start seeing and hearing the real, parallel world. It isn’t surviving the ‘psychosis’ that is a problem, it is surviving its medicalization by psychiatry, stigma associated with it, and unkind humans, who start denying you this wonderful experience, who proclaim you as ‘crazy’, and define you as ‘mad’.
I am not mad, and I am not crazy. I survived psychiatry only because I am stronger than them, and I survived it because my visions were too powerful, the experience as such was just too divine.
And so, fifteen years on, I am still here, the special, unique me. I remember my past lives, I know that I have a purpose, I know that I belong in this world.
And I know, I just know, that I might have been Jesus in my past life. I am still Jesus, and if you read the Bible carefully, before saying to each ‘Jesus’ you meet that he or she is crazy, pay attention to the words of Jesus himself. Everyone who believes in him truly, has Jesus in them.
I am not mad, and I am not crazy. I just see and hear more things than the majority of the world population.
And I am lucky in this respect, because on the other side, here, in the parallel universe, angels sing, birds speak in a language I can understand, cats reveal me their secrets, and doves approach me to say ‘hello’.
To read more about Ekaterina’s magical journey and interpretations of her very own ‘impressionist painting’, go to; www.russianpatient.com
Do you have your own experience of so called ‘psychosis’ that you’d like to share?
CONTACT US HERE and your story will be considered for publication in our next KindaProud pocket book; #Emerging Proud through Psychosis and Schizophrenia