Part Five In Which Our Persistent Columnist Gets Necessary Tests, Prior To Officially Starting On Medicinal CBD, And Reflects Upon What Good Has Come Of His Seizure
My parents insisted that, before I started to take CBD in conjunction with the Lamo, I get the MRI and EEG tests. I had been trying to get these since my last visit to the doctor; I will spare you all the redtape bullshit, being bounced around automated phone-systems, and polite messages left unanswered, that I had to go through before I got the prescription for these tests.
Point is: I got the EEG on 6-10-16, a month after that third visit (in which I was assured that CBD will not conflict with any of the medications I am currently taking).
I was worried it would take another month of runaround, but I ended up getting the MRI a week later (6-17-16). Finally—someone actually sorted the appointment out in a cheerful and prompt way (thanks Jo!).
On June 18th, I was finally ready to order some CBD.
I called up the website I’d found, and talked to Bill.
If you’re looking to get CBD medicinally, I recommend calling him up. (I’m not able to recommend his site directly through this series, but if you contact me on Twitter I will very happily point you in his direction.) Bill is a cool dude, very knowledgeable about medical marijuana, and always happy to help people get started on CBD and figure out what’s the best option for them.
We chatted for awhile, discussing what he has to offer and what all of his wares do. In the end, I landed on what I’d originally researched: a tincture of Charlotte’s Web, with a concentration of 500mg (it’s a 1oz bottle, with MCT coconut oil). I considered getting the pure cannabidiol oil, but apparently it doesn’t taste great on its own; CW’s chocolate-mint.
Bill usually ships within 24 hours. I was about to leave for three days in Detroit; if I didn’t get it before I left, I knew that it would be waiting for me when I got home.
After I hung up, I just sat and stared at nothing in particular for a couple minutes. It had been a battle, up to this point—but once I’d done the research, gotten the tests, and all that, it was suddenly going more smoothly than I could have hoped.
Three months, ten days.
At the time, the seizure seemed like it had thrown my life off track. But on the afternoon of June 18th (and again, a month later, as I edit this: July 19th), I have the perspective to see it as a lot more than just a nasty wrench thrown into my path.
That seizure has pushed me to do some remarkable things, which have had no place in these blogs. The spiritual experiences (see Blogs 1 & 2) opened me to unexplored vistas inside myself. Those, and other incidents, have fueled some excellent writing—and one text-game which is a LONG way from done, but is at its heart an attempt to explain Depersonalization. (If you’re interested in seeing what’s public so far, here’s the first ‘level’.) It should be noted that this was written while I was still depersonalizing.
The physical limitations. In the State of Massachusetts, you can’t drive for six months after having a seizure (9/8/16. Counting down.); this restriction has forced me to modify my schedule and lifestyle. Needing to rely on rides to go anywhere has been painfully reminiscent of middle- and high school. As it’s gotten warmer, I’ve started to bike (not nearly enough), and have been loving it whenever I do. Plus, save-the-environment. Every little bit helps.
Two days post-seizure, I asked out a girl who I had been tentatively flirting with for a couple weeks beforehand. For awhile after feeling Death breathing down your neck, you become keenly aware of how precious every day moment and fragmentary experience truly IS. Emboldened by the realization of how brief and uncertain Life is, I made a move that I didn’t have the nerve to try before the seizure. What blossomed out of that has no place in these blogs, but I thank Who&Whatever for sending me the seizure simply for….
Music. Music, and food. And books. In the time after the seizure, I tasted, heard, read familiar things with the joy of a child discovering them for the first time. Just before the seizure, I pulled 20,000 Leagues Under The Sea off my bookshelf (prompted by a conversation with a friend); the day I got home from the hospital, I grabbed The Divine Invasion off that shelf as well. Reading those two books in the weeks following my seizure was revelatory, and led me back out of the Abyss.
I have a keen sense of synchronicity. Either it finds me, or my eyes are just open to it. In that postictal period, I was aware of the multitudinous threads woven through our existence. I want to show you what that’s like, and the best way I can is by sharing the following absolutely true circumstance.
This year, the vernal equinox (3/20/16; 12 days after my seizure) came with an unseasonal blizzard. A few days earlier (3/18/16), I decided to skip ahead a bit in 20Kutc—the narrator meticulously dates their exploits, and I wanted to find the closest O.T.D.: March 20th. As it so happened, the Nautilus was gliding under the South Pole.
"We were indeed exactly at the 20th of March. To-morrow, the 21st, would be the equinox; the sun would disappear behind the horizon for six months, and with its disappearance the long polar night would begin."
I thought this was a peculiar coincidence, alongside the unseasonal storm-warnings that had been coming in all day.
But three days later (Day 2 of that blizzard), I happened upon the following passage in The Divine Invasion:
"...as he sat there on the bench with Zina, in the park, on this cold day so near the vernal equinox..."
I don’t know how you’d begin to calculate the odds of coming across these two passages, in books picked up for entirely different reasons, within days of a vernal-equinox-blizzard. Two references—not only to the spring equinox—but in particular an unusually cold one.
Our existence is truly miraculous, and the threads which connect it all are unspeakably weird sometimes.
That seizure tore me open, and has allowed me to reach a new stage of Self. Of not only intellectually ‘knowing’ that Everything Is Connected, but to literally feel the connections between myself and everything else emanating across the earth.
NEXTiME: Starting CBD (At Long Last!)
Adam Singer is a writer, filmmaker, bodysurfer, lodestone for synchronicity, and modest visionary. On March 8th, 2016, he had a seizure which has been a catalyst for deep introspection and drastic change. You can find him on Twitter, @timeofposting. If you have had a similar experience, or are investigating medical CBD, he encourages you to tweet @ him.