A Recipe for Harnessing the Powers of the Dark Side

I came from a long line of crazy. Among my aunts and cousins are condemned prisoners and individuals who struggle with their mental well-being. Our family has never adhered to conventional norms or traditions. Two of my cousins, who were younger than me, were particularly affected by their circumstances. They were brothers, and before their incarceration and institutionalization, few people interacted with them. The only ones who made an effort were my grandfather and my mother's eldest sister. They believed that my cousins could still change, but their emotional and psychological scars seemed permanent. To put it mildly, they did not grow up in a nurturing and loving environment. In fact, many of us did not. That's why the idea of Christmas and family reunions filled me with dread. I despised attending these gatherings because I could sense the underlying tension in the air. People made efforts to appear happy and stable, at least once a year, but it only made me feel nauseous.

After my cousins were imprisoned and institutionalized, the subsequent Christmases seemed less awkward than before. Their absence changed everything. People became more relaxed and carefree. It was as if someone had finally acknowledged the elephant in the room. I realized that perhaps it was the presence of my cousins that compelled everyone to pretend that everything was normal. Since everyone was aware of their insanity, someone had to step up and pretend that the rest of us were mentally sane. Maybe it was an attempt to minimize the impact of their challenges or to teach them how to behave in socially acceptable ways. Now that they can no longer spend the holidays with us, the pressure to maintain the facade of normalcy has dissipated. We no longer feel obligated to pretend that we're all okay when we're not.

Studies from the Human Body by Francis Bacon, 1975

For a while, I was drawn to wearing a mask to fit in. It had its appeal because it allowed me to make many friends. But they were friends I didn't truly like. Friends who believed they were important, who thought they knew everything, who acted like they were famous. Being around them only made me feel more alone.

Growing up in a dysfunctional environment gave me a different perspective. It made me see people for who they truly are. I'm not claiming to be special in this regard. It was a skill I reluctantly developed because no matter how much people tried to present themselves in a positive light, I knew that eventually, their true colors would emerge. Perhaps it became my defense mechanism. To trust and appreciate people, I needed to see both their beauty and their flaws.

My truest friends understood this. Nine and Twelve, especially. Nine may appear innocent at first glance, but give her a bottle of alcohol and she'd be shouting curses at the streets, passionately criticizing capitalism while gazing at newly constructed condos in Katipunan.

I appreciate her authenticity. But I hope that one day, we won't need alcohol to muster the confidence to reveal our true selves to others. I understand the temptation to conform and fit in. It kept my cousins out of prison and the asylum, at least for a while. But I now realize that what they truly needed was acceptance. The more my family pretended to be normal, the more they pushed them away. Though they may be confined now, they will always be freer than those who conform.

As for myself, I prefer to stay out of prison or the asylum while keeping my mind alive. However, it's challenging to stay alive when most of the people around you are emotionally numb. They've traded their true selves, their flaws, and their guilt for a shallow sense of acceptance from others who are equally lifeless. When they gather together, their deadening influence becomes contagious. Sometimes, without even realizing it, you catch that same lifelessness. You feel safe among them because they are all veiled in false optimism. These are the people who constantly reassure you, saying, "Everything will be okay." While comforting at times, I prefer the hard truth over white lies. Because in reality, everything is not okay. How can it be when the world is deteriorating? What is this pill, this illusion, that everyone seems to be consuming to shield themselves from the ugliness? Why do they shy away from embracing the mess they've created? In my opinion, true living is about accepting and embracing the messiness that resides within us.

Portrait of George Dyer Talking by Francis Bacon, 1966

To acknowledge that your father never loved you. To acknowledge the possibility that he may not be your biological father (which you're actually grateful for). To acknowledge that he is a deranged, abusive, lazy, alcoholic with anger management issues and narcissistic tendencies, and that you once harbored thoughts of harming him. To acknowledge that your mother experienced a difficult pregnancy with you. To acknowledge her compulsive behavior and her overwhelming empathy for others. To acknowledge your grandfather's misogynistic views. To acknowledge the struggles faced by your overweight, depressed aunts. To acknowledge that you were exposed to excessive secondhand smoke from your chain-smoking grandmother during your childhood. To acknowledge that as a baby, you engaged in behavior like eating your own feces. To acknowledge the ongoing sixth mass extinction event and the impending threat it poses to humanity. And so on and so forth.

I choose not to forget these aspects because they are integral to who I am. While some individuals may prefer to suppress painful memories to avoid impulsive reactions, I believe it is our responsibility to confront our inner demons in order to gain control over them. Perhaps the act of trying to forget has only made us more delusional than ever. These toxins have infiltrated our food, our music, our clothing, and our habits. Whatever form these poisons take, they must be purged from our systems as their effects are debilitating. Once the delusions have lifted, we can then face the remnants of ourselves and harness the power of our darker side.

Let's consider food, for instance:

Dairy products

Meat

High mercury-containing fish and seafood

Plastics

Soy proteins

Gluten and sugary foods

Refined carbohydrates

Salty foods

In order to gain control over my darker impulses, I have compiled a list of foods that tend to trigger impulsive and explosive behaviors in me. Due to my unpredictable moods and hormonal instability, I have recently made an effort to avoid the items listed above. Dairy, soy, and meat found in store-bought products often contain various antibiotics and growth hormones with complex names (such as testosterone propionate, trenbolone acetate, estradiol, zeranol, progesterone, melengestrol acetate, and bovine somatotropin). The introduction of synthetic hormones into our systems disrupts the endocrine, immune, and nervous systems. Gluten, sugary foods, and refined carbohydrates contribute to inflammation in the body, disrupt the functioning of the adrenals, thyroid, and gonads, and are linked to autoimmune diseases like diabetes and celiac disease. I included plastics on the list because it seems that humans unknowingly consume significant amounts of microplastics and plastic residues nowadays. While it is impossible to completely avoid microplastic ingestion, the accumulation of plastic components (such as phthalates, bisphenol-A (BPAs), polystyrene, and polyethylene (PET)) in the body damages our respiratory, reproductive, endocrine, immune, and nervous systems. Many of these chemicals are also carcinogenic and neurotoxic. (Ironically, aren't we making tremendous efforts to improve the state of our world?)

HENRIETTA MORAES by Francis Bacon, 1966

However, my aim is not to achieve complete healthiness. I actually enjoy self-triggering moments of mania, as they enhance my writing, thinking, and creative abilities. To balance these shifts with a better diet, I retain some of my disruptive habits, including:

Sleep deprivation

Self-starvation

Sexual activity

Alcohol consumption

Alcohol consumption

Alcohol consumption

More alcohol

Alcohol, much like sex, has aphrodisiac qualities. Unlike other psychoactive substances, I appreciate the gradual toxic effect that drunkenness has on the body. The slight impairment of my neural pathways due to intoxication sometimes produces remarkable results. I have developed an understanding of how many bottles it takes for me to reach a state of blackout, start writing, or behave recklessly. Alcohol, in my eyes, is an enchanting companion.

Nevertheless, this is my personal recipe for harnessing the powers of my dark side and purging myself from delusional poisons. Since we are all unique individuals, I anticipate that my approach may not work for others. Each person must learn how to create their own recipe that aligns with their specific needs. Self-honesty is essential, and everything else becomes easier.

It is important to avoid keeping the system static, as it leaves no room for evolution to occur. You add both 'good' and 'bad' elements to the mix. Sometimes you increase the 'good,' but most of the time there is more 'bad' than 'good.' What matters is that you are aware of everything you add or subtract from the system, and you understand your limits. It is a delicate balance between homeostasis and transistasis. If you tilt the scale excessively, you risk losing touch with reality, and eventually, you face the possibility of death.

Often, I find contentment in the midst of the chaotic and messy nature of reality.

After all, reality itself is the most peculiar of fantasies.