Joseph Bailey41 said:I agree. I’ve lost count of how many times I’ve asked in casual conversation, "Do you actually consider psychology a science?" Not to start an argument, mind you, but just out of pure curiosity. To me, everything from synthetic drugs and herbal supplements to mindfulness and frequency healing falls under the umbrella of "healing." That’s just how I categorize things. Basically: does it help or not? After treatment XYZ, do you feel better, worse, or the same? And honestly, speaking purely subjectively, I’d always rather take a chance on something that doesn't list "death" as a potential side effect—or anything else that brings you even remotely close to that outcome. But hey, maybe that’s just because I’m not in the middle of a major depressive episode right now, so a fatal outcome doesn't seem like a particularly tempting option. 😁
If you want a doctor (or a shaman, or a witch) to actually fix your problem, you need to describe it as accurately as possible. It’s not like they can just draw blood, run a lab test, determine your F-Code, and write a prescription based solely on that. Obviously, it’s not just what you tell them that matters, but how you say it... but the less aware you are of what is actually bothering you, the harder it will be for them to piece it together from your words.
Depression isn't really like having the flu; it's more like having a fever. Both can range from mildly uncomfortable to life-threateningly dangerous, but neither is a "disease" in and of itself—they are signs that something is going wrong in the body or the mind. So, what exactly is happening? The easiest way to figure that out is to try changing something—to introduce a new element into the equation and see if there's any result. To me, that feels much closer to actual science than blindly following instructions based on studies funded by the very person trying to sell you a specific magic potion.
God forbid. The problem with these healers is you can never actually tell what’s going on. You don't know what the core issue is... or if the fallout you're dealing with right now is just because I ate too much of this or that, or if my portions were totally off yesterday... maybe, just maybe, I wouldn't have spent half the day glued to the toilet today. It's all based on these observations and trying to find some kind of truth in certain parameters. Maybe this whole bathroom disaster has nothing to do with "if only I hadn't." Maybe I actually manifested this crap myself. Wouldn't you just confirm that pattern again if things played out this way? One minute you're feeling super confident in your own pedantic—maybe even obsessive—way of analyzing things and deciding what's true... then you realize how far from the truth you actually are. Once you see that, you can never really go back to the safety of what you thought you knew. You end up needing a little nudge from someone else just to validate your own mess. Whether it's a priest, a neighbor, or some random person on the street... it doesn't matter. When everything is this uncertain, anyone will do...
Snorting baking soda for migraines? Apparently, Ivanka’s recommending it on some blog for a two-week stint. Some guy tried it—can't remember where he heard about it, though... if this isn't legit, he'll be feeling like his whole body's on fire. Reading through Ivanka's Facebook posts, she sounds so incredibly certain about it. It's coming from someone who's cycled through everything: modern medicine, magnetic therapy, chiropractic, holy water, old wives' tales, yoga, meditation, clean eating, chia seeds... you name it. At this point, what's there to lose? Snorting powder probably won't do much more damage than how crappy he already feels every single day. After two weeks, either things get significantly better, or—more likely, given how predictable life is—absolutely nothing happens. Either way, how do you even tell the difference between a placebo effect and something that actually works? It's so damn convincing that people feel the need to spread the word whenever they get a chance, thinking they're doing something good. You try to save someone being tortured by migraines, or if it doesn't work for them, you just nudge them down a notch toward that "screw this, I'm done" stage... all because you genuinely believe there might be some kind of solution out there...
Once that light-sensitive, nauseating, killer migraine finally breaks—maybe even just on its own—the actual fix doesn't even matter. You'll forget the whole concept at light speed. Days feel different, the world looks different, even how you interact with people shifts in tone and intensity... It’s like nothing ever happened. Just a tiny scar, a little scratch on the hard drive. Hopefully it stays a one-time thing and doesn't happen again. You're back to "normal." Maybe a headache, or whatever, acts like some psychosomatic trick to pull you out of that mindless daily grind long enough to actually ask yourself some questions... stuff you wouldn't bother asking when life is just rushing by. A moment of quality time for yourself, if you want to call it that. Maybe the pain itself is just a suggestion to find some decent downtime that doesn't involve migraines, depression, allergies, or facial tics...
Sometimes you just get lost in this massive sea of information where everything feels uncertain and questionable. Especially who you are, who you should be, what kind of person you ought to be, whether you're being real or fake... good, bad, calm, anxious, too passive, too hyper... And right now, life feels like it’s hinting that things are fundamentally wrong. Like there's some deep truth—some "chemical shift"—sounding an alarm that everything is messed up and needs to change, partially or totally. Then comes the glitch. That inability to process things, not because you're just zoning out, but because you're actively struggling, and you can't seem to un-glitch. Just a chronic loop. Same as the headache. Maybe it passes on its own. What came, went. In the meantime, regardless of how it feels, you end up dealing with the same old certainties. It's that obsession with finding an instant fix, which is probably the same exact problem as "how it started."
Hands are just the Devil's playground. And that's just the beginning for the rest of the organs....
