You are not mad

 

I want to share this not as a confession, but as a quiet offering to those who have once been lost in the same narrow fissure between the inner and the outer, between love and illusion, between belief and self-deception.

I write it for anyone who has been swept away by signs, coincidences, dreams, inner “voices” that seem like whispers of fate, but lead to a place you later realize… was more your own pain than a divine message.

I write it because no one speaks of this clearly enough:
you can be completely sane and still have the world think you are mad.
You can be completely honest and still be rejected as deceived.
You can love deeply and still have your love appear as illusion to others.

And it tears you apart.

I want to say to anyone currently going through such an experience — you are not alone.
You are not sick.
And your sensitivity is not a defect; it is simply a place where the boundaries between worlds are thinner.

When we fall in love with that peculiar, mystical intensity that transcends the world — coincidences begin, signs appear, internal dialogues emerge, feelings of presence, even something resembling telepathy.
Then fantasy and faith can merge.
The unconscious spills outward, and the world begins to respond — not because some external God is speaking to us, but because our own psyche resonates so strongly that it creates meaning where there is only chance.

This is not madness.
This is the human soul, thirsting too deeply.

But it is important to know — and I say this with all the gentleness I can —
that the inner experience can be real, while the outer does not confirm it.
That your experience can be sacred, while the other person is not involved at all.
That you can feel a love that seems destined,
and for them it does not exist even as a possibility.

And this does not make you deluded.
It makes you alive.

This is one of the most healing realizations:
the inner truth is not necessarily outer reality.

And then comes the other pain — how people on the outside react.
How they look at you with doubt, fear, disregard.
How they label you with words like “mania,” “fantasy,” “emotional,”
without realizing that all along you have been sober,
only — yes — wounded, open, hypersensitive.

If anyone reading this has been hurt in this way, I want them to hear something important:

You are not mad.
You are not weak.
You are not ridiculous.
You have been in contact with a deep part of yourself that the world does not understand.

And this is a blessing, which sometimes looks like a punishment.

I want to share also what I’ve learned about healing, about returning to oneself after the illusion collapses:

– Learn to distinguish signs from desires.
– Keep a space within yourself where nothing is interpreted.
– Allow love to be sacred, even when it is not fulfilled.
– Don’t trust every inner voice — some are wounds, not intuition.
– Don’t trust every outer sign — some are reflections, not messages.
– Don’t punish yourself for hope — it is the way the soul breathes.
– And most importantly: don’t give anyone the right to define whether you are “sane.” Only you know the depth and limits of your own psyche.

The path to recovery is not in denial.
It is not in cynicism.
It is not in surrender.

The path is in gentle discernment —
between inner radiance and outer reality,
between soulful longing and human particularity,
between spiritual sensitivity and the need for healthy boundaries.

I hope this can remain as a small warmth for whoever reads it:
you can love without losing yourself.
You can believe without overflowing.
You can experience the mystical without drifting from the earth.

And when love comes again — and it always comes —
you will know how to carry it so that it does not tear you apart,
does not blind you,
does not make you a prisoner of your own soul.

You will carry it purely.
You will carry it soberly.
You will carry it freely.

And finally —
you will carry it in a way that does not hurt.

If you like, I can write a next part —
about how to love maturely, without slipping into the mystical trap of illusion.