I have always been reserved towards extroverted people because it is also something that was forced on me early in my life. Except for the fact that it was also undeveloped, and my reservation lay in my fear of how I should approach it. I also found my disbelief in the fact that it was something that was exclusively recognized in my larger environment, transferred to, and sensed by me in my early teens. Which forced me to suppress the processes that I naturally had within me. That certainly contributed to my mistrust, as such a one-way relationship did not reflect my experiences at all. Suddenly I should just accept that what I was, was a measurable, testable and statistically quantifiable being, constantly explained by its interpretations and conceptually defined by the amount of its followers. What I was inside me suddenly became something that had nothing to do with my external relationship to others and to my life. For a while, I experienced it so intensely that it felt like psychic torture. Like I was in rota-aimo, tartaros, the land of the lost, or in hell as the official belief or imaging describes it. But I was not a believer. That was my actual reality. Where I was and where everyone else is if they loose touch with our internal processes on the road of development, and with the one that grows within us. My inner center and its sense of a totality didn’t count for nothing and my need to be able to formulate that and be in it just grew as my inner conversation increasingly became stronger, but without the outer anchoring it needed. The dominant extrovert approach did not reach me. It thought it could describe me from within but had no relation to what that was. I did not recognize myself in the concepts that was meant to describe its relation to my reality, and give me a way to formulate my experiences as I went along with my life. Instead it went into a full stop. Into psychic torture. My interior and extraversion did not correspond to one another. Instead it disconnected me from myself. It seemed to me that I was supposed to ignore the process going on inside me. Which was something that I saw all around me, and something I recognized in people even if they ignored it in favor of an outwardly extraverted presence. I listened to another voice, and received my guidance from both the living and the dead there, which knowledge meant something in relation to what was happening to me, and lay before me in that work. It was a living relationship I had between my consciousness and my inner person on several levels. I had another psychic depth that I was born with that I tried to transform into my life but as an extrovert’s concept of the psyche, and the experience of what this extraverted reality was, I was dumbfounded of what my own personal settings were. As I mentioned above, psychic terror, rota-aimo, or hell, better describes this experience, when one has lost the connections to what appears as that reality between myself and others. On the one hand, it is about being able to be that with others, with someone who knows how horrible it is to be in it and has been going through it by themselves and respects it without taking its underlying importance out of it. We have a connection to each other here. This “hell” is a shared experience of the same psychic realm where we got lost. Where we get stuck. We have a relationship with others here, but without being able to carry it for anyone, or let what this is in ourselves be worn by them. We share it with each other. But we cannot be it. The raw psychic forces that affect us here are something we are all a part of. How we describe it is our own experience, our own background, and it has its own language. We cannot formulate for others what they have to find out for themselves, that at some time as we walk into life we get lost. And we cannot fight it by denying our extraverted or psychic needs and make them an external struggle that others will suffer for us. Our struggle is within us, and its attitude is our reality. If I blame or get completely absorbed by someone, it’s because I did not pay attention to that human quality in myself. I transfer my demons to others, for them to work it out in their hell instead. They become my own interior inter-subjective trash can. We even call it love when someone accepts being absorbed by us. But they are also carriers of our whole set of extraverted needs or of its opposite, the interior psychic qualities that we pass on to others to fulfill for us so that we can escape the full weight of our metaphorical reality. The sum of my experiences leads to a kind of duality. On the one hand, there is no externally established form that can in a consistent way explain what it is I experience. It feels more practical, close to nature and even ceremonial and has little or nothing at all to do with what psychology in a medical sense use as a substitute practice here. That’s hell. Why take psychopharmaceuticals in hell if you are already there. Hell do not disappear. Hell is still hell, a psychic realm and we are still soaked in it. We only get anesthetized, which is why many self-medicate with alcohol. On the other hand, I know exactly what the experience or process is since it is its own full explanation, even if the words I am trying to use does not agree with what is widely acknowledged. But I have found that, what C G Jung has accomplished and implemented in his own words and for his own part, is the closest I can come with my experiences and what is called psychology today. It still leaves my experiences to me. For me to meet and work with as my own reality, and with my own words. Not pills, or terms and concepts that lack meaning that are shoved down my throat that would only further clog my senses. I’m not a psychologist, I am just a person with senses who needs the metaphorical background that shape and color my existence. It’s about meaning for me, not just knowledge as an end in itself. A straightforward example; we all know about romantic love and our sexuality as its physical or “material” side. Romantic love is what gives meaning to our sexuality from within. Rota aimo, or hell, is the metaphorical meaning of the realm of nothingness, hopelessness and despair. The terrible mental suffering that exists behind our extraverted attitude as its own reality when we loose the connection to our inner being’s experience of itself through us.