A Memoir · Sangamesh Chandrakanth
The Fourth Time
From Compulsion to Awakening
I open my eyes and I am still alive.
Fresh and Calm inside the cell.
For fifteen years, Sangamesh Chandrakanth chased dopamine — through gambling, through alcohol, through the relentless hunger of an unquiet mind. He lost fortunes, fled countries, destroyed relationships, and rebuilt himself again and again. Then came the psychosis.
Not once. Not twice. Four times his mind took him somewhere no one else could follow. A van crash in British Columbia. A midnight walk through Bangkok alone. Handcuffs. A Bangkok tailor's measuring tape that broke him open. His sister appearing in the middle of a foreign road.
This is not a book about recovery in the way you expect. There is no tidy lesson. No redemption arc tied with a bow. There is only the truth — raw, simple, in the way an Indian man actually thinks and speaks — of what it feels like to go to the furthest edge of your own mind, and choose to come back.
Written in simple Indian English, exactly as it happened.
Our consciousness is nothing but memory over time. My memory could stretch to the beginning of the universe itself — or focus on one single moment at present.
I saw God in each inch of those clothes. In the measurements he was taking of me. I burst out crying and I couldn't control it.
I buried the evil on one of the journeys which only I know about. And I threw the keys away. No one else can go there. Not even me.
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