A Check of My Neurons

A Check of My Neurons Matthew Walker

I am writing this to check on my neurons, as is referenced in the title of this macabre piece. I have experienced a dark and deeply scarring period of my life recently. My fiendish brain has run away with itself and in its own cretinous, sinister, actions it has spurred me to the very brink of substance abuse. Every moment of every day I ride on a wave that no youth-filled child of the world should be forced to treacherously ride - I have been partaking in the smoking of cannabis and heavy drinking for the past month and a half after a particularly deep-cutting and heart-wrenching break-up with the most beautiful, perfect, amazingly kind hearted girl I have ever been graced with the mere presence of. I am writing this purely to test the level of functioning of my consciousness and cognition after six long weeks of striding abuse - whipping the frontal cortex of my brain with a steaming, scorching molten metal wire and not making any attempt to conceive even the mildest effort to withhold myself from yet another period of self-torture whereby I burn holes into my brain - permanently damaging the cognitive powerhouse of gifted IQ that I pretentiously believe I possess. I see no reason for the continuation of this scarring and demolishment of my only true powerful asset. I have found that I am writing to only a slightly lesser power than previously and therefore I will have no cause for concern and can continue on effectively with my life safe in the knowledge that I am still an incredibly capable human with exceptional skills of writing, learning and memory-retention.

I have found that recently I have discovered a darker side of myself - this will most certainly influence my writing as I have discovered my deep buried PTSD from my father's suicide four years prior to this piece and also my layered psychoses that intertwine like the roots of a grand oak beneath the surface of my neuronal construct. I have decided that I must develop my skill as a writer as it is clearly my calling. The depression and anxiety that I have learnt I maintain must not impede my skills as a human and writer but instead fuel them - I will turn existential dread and depressive tendencies into a method of improving my lifestyle either through career or art much like a modern-day Jean-Paul Sartre or to a lesser extent Robin Williams. I have decided there is no need to conceal my true self - a vain and selfish cunt of a human being who also has tendencies of the purest level of kindness and care. I find that most successful people are deeply troubled - I intend to dispel and extinguish my troubles unlike others such as Van Gogh who eventually succumbed to his hearts desires and shot himself in the stomach whilst out in the fields - killing himself and eventually dying in bed next to his brother Theo. I have reached out for therapeutic care and intend to attend a psychotherapist who can dig and trudge their way through my subconscious and hopefully rewire it from within.

I feel that in some ways my recent troubles have taught me aspects of myself I had previously not recognised or appreciated. I feel that apathy can sometimes be a beneficial attribute in a person - as unfeeling is not a curse but a skill - I wish I could turn my feelings off as previously when they weren't as controlling - they were simply a quiet whisper of the moral high ground - these feelings are now a loud shriek of controlling angst and I just can't seem to find the switch to turn them off - I've looked inside of beer cans - joints and even psychedelics to try to find the switch but it simply isn't presenting itself to me.

People are becoming worried about me - but they need not be concerned for the way I act is simply clichof a sixteen year old British boy - however I had always felt myself as superior, perhaps my experience as this substance fuelled human has levelled me and grounded me as compared to previously when I maintained a godlike symbolism within my own mind.

So let me ask - you, the reader, does my cognition seem damaged or dilapidated or is it only my mental health issues that make me feel this way? I intend to stop substance use - I feel it unnecessary and find it only takes detrimental actions that move me in the wrong direction.