One thing that I think is hard to understand unless you can experience it in real life is what I call the Siren Call of Mania. It’s a voice, screaming in your ear, to follow every crazy automatic thought that moves through your brain. The double whammy is that your thoughts race at the speed of light. The combination of the two make it very hard to resist… I’m not always successful…

Best weapon against this double whammy is mindfulness. If you can be mindful of what’s going on, that your brain is on a rampage to get you in trouble, then you have a chance to sneak in an intervention, i.e., a thought counter acting what the Siren is screaming about. Feel I’m getting the intervention in about 95% of the time. I can live with the 5%….

These days, being in a manic episode, I find it extremely difficult to remain mindful of my manic thoughts. You just have to say, that’s a manic thought, I don’t need to act on it. Sounds simple, but that moment of making the decision to not act on the manic thought is extremely tricky. In the decision process mania will send you new manic thoughts to try and convince you that you MUST act on this thought RIGHT NOW. The trick is to be mindful of these new manic thoughts and to decide not to act on them either. When the thoughts come at you at hyper-manic speed, it’s really a challenge.

So far, so good. No really terrible actions based on manic thoughts. Yes, the struggle never ends, but that’s just a fact of your existence you have to learn to accept.

Hope somebody can find some use in these words about mindfulness and manic thoughts…

What is life on the razors edge? When you are manic depressive, there is both a mania and a depression edge that is razor sharp. At the moment I’m live life on the mania razor’s edge. Not something I would wish on my worst enemy. Over time with mindfulness I have learned how to go to a place that’s like having an out of body experience. I’m able to look at myself as if I was someone else and see the mania which wants to drive my behavior. Mindfulness is the best weapon against the mania having it’s way. Also use the healing room meditation, in which my father visits me almost every time. He’s concerned for my welfare. He tries to give me good advice but the mania won’t let me listen.

Oh well, such is life in the manic depressive fast lane….

To his parents it seemed as though Zuel’s health neither improved or got worse. The Mystic of Cascadia, Falcao, applied simple remedies, nothing that hadn’t been tried before. Falcao and Zuel spent his waking hours talking. Mostly they talked about what it was like to be Mystic, but Zuel also asked questions on subjects such as history, religion, and current events. The parents accepted that Zuel was learning valuable lessons in these conversations, but they grew impatient for his health to improve.

The day came when his parents lost patience. The father said to Falcao, “Why aren’t you doing anything special to heal Zuel. Your the great and wondrous Mystic of Cascadia, don’t you have some kind of special remedy for him.”

The Mystic answered, “I have been giving him a very special treatment. Everyday his healing builds momentum, and soon her will be healed.”

The mother had to stare the father down to keep him from exploding. The days dragged on as they had and the parents began to lose hope, when one morning Zuel pronounced, “I get it, I finally get it… I have to heal myself… I know what I have to do.”

The Mystic smiled and said to his parents, “Alas, the cure is complete.”

Zuel’s revelation did seem to bring about his full recovery. The parents were baffled as to what happened. They asked the Mytic why it turned out that Zuel had to heal himself.

“The answer is simple, ” said Falcao. Zuel had Mystic Fever… a fever that happens to people when their Mystic powers begin to rise to the surface .”

“What?” exclaimed the father. “Are you telling us Zuel is going to be a Mystic.”

“He already is, ” Falcao answered. The parents stared at each other stunned by this new revelation. There son was a Mystic, what would happen next?

It was a windy day as they stood and looked to the top of the next hill. These hills appeared to go on forever as they had gone up and down them all day long. They had no choice though than follow the trail that led up and down. Their son was sick, and he needed to be seen by a Mystic or some other kind of healer as soon as possible. The path they were on didn’t seem to know anything about “as soon as possible.” But they kept marching, knowing it was their son’s only chance to survive.

Towards night fall, they entered a grove of trees. Shortly after they spotted what they had hoped for… the mark of the Mystic of Cascadia, the most renowned healer in all the land. The gods only knew how they had managed to select the path to the Mystic, but they wasted no time following the mark onto a path into the woods. After 10 minutes or so they came upon a lean to cabin, one that looked exactly as it had been described in the famous stories of the Mystics exploits. A light burned in the window, and smoke rose out of the chimney.

The father wasted no time in knocking on the door, hoping the light and smoke didn’t lie about the Mystic’s presence. The door opened only after a few moments. There he stood in the flesh… The Mystic of Cascadia, leader of the Order of Mystics of Cascadia, the most powerful mystic guild in all of the known world. “Bring him in quickly,” Falcao said. Despite his exalted position he preferred to be called by his first name. “I’ve set up a bed with his treatment ready to begin.” said Falcao. “We should know in the next couple of hours if the treatment is going to work. It almost always does, so I’m hopeful.”

The Mystic led them into the back end of the lean to, in a space that was just big enough to hold a child’s size bed. The Mystic took the boy from his mothers pack, and laid him in the bed, wrapping him in blankets. He then covered the bed in a leather tent and then went to a small device they had never seen before. “This device makes steam out of water and medicine.” said the Mystic. “It is the best way to administer this medicine. We will know if it’s going to work in 5 to 10 minutes.”

The parents had no idea how Falcao had known they were coming. They had encountered no one on the path that had led them here. Baffled by the mystery, but so grateful that things had turned out as they had.

Thus started Zuel’s relationship with the Mystic. Probably only the Mystic knew that this sick boy he was helping today would become his heir apparent apprentice. The parents would not have been so excited if the knew what was in store for their son.