Thread by @Cernovich

Twenty men sat under a canopy in the rain forrest of Peru, each holding a 2 ounce cup of what looks like stale espresso.

Check a “cool guy” box and it was there. SEAL, Ranger, SF, Cryto-billonaire, dot com exit. None of that will matter.

The screaming starts.

Wails of despair. Guttural. Primal. Sounds you've never heard. Sounds that terrify.

For the next several hours it continues. You wonder if someone has lost it for good.

Or maybe you’re the one who is about to lose it....

You lean up, look around, you see shadows, you don't know where you are.

Where are you?

Who are you?

What just happened?

Anger, rage, and self-doubt fills the void where memories and *self* once existed.

No please, I don’t want to die, No, please, I am not ready. I can’t leave the people who love me.


“It’s too late,” an ominous voice says from behind you as you drift into a bottomless abyss.

You lean up again.

Feeling sicker than the last time you had food poisoning.

Vomiting becomes a welcome relief from eternal torment. “I’m still here.”

You fall back down onto the ground again, no idea where you are heading to next.

Eyes open, eyes closed, it doesn't matter, you can't go anywhere, there is no escape.

You're confronted with the person you've been running away from your entire life.

For the first time, without filters or lies, you meet your true self.

As the hours progress, you feel the medicine moving through you. Your hands have the sensation of mild carpel tunnel syndrome.

You remember something people often say, "The only way out is through."

You see true power and humble yourself.

Then the work begins.

There is a presence, many presences - some of them not particularly friendly.

As you adjust to your new "space suit," you find a guide.

Is this God? The collective consciousness? Your unconscious mind?

Whatever it is, it's beyond your earthy comprehension.

The Guide shows you days long past.

Repressed memories of abuse you suffered and build armor around.

Some of the strongest men were the most hurt, they became strong to protect themselves.

You relive those moments.

"The only way out is through."

You also see the harm you've caused others. You try to rationalize. "I didn't know, I didn't mean it, the person had it coming!"

The Guide doesn't care.

To God we are all one.

Whatever the reasons, harming others is harming yourself, and it's harming God.

You feel deep guilt.

Guilt, shame, agony....

You start to come back up.

Immense joy.

A joy that you can only feel after you've lost everything, and somehow got it back.

You get a second chance.

Two or three a.m. rolls around.

WHAT WAS THAT? FOR REAL. WHAT WAS THAT?

You went from a place you can’t escape to this world.

Like the snap of your finger.

You can eat, talk, you could run a lap or drive a car if you wanted to. (Not that there’s any cars in the jungle.)

Maybe you fall back to get some more work in.

You know it’ll be OK now.

Or maybe you’re done.

You’ve seen what there is to see in a night that never ended.

Back to these men you met.

Back to YOURSELF.

What brought them together?

Something was missing.

Next day, circle up, integration.

Some say, "Real men don't cry."

And then you see the toughest men in the world - the ones people make videos games of - weeping.

You cry.