Existential Terror & ChatGPT

Me: I think it would be helpful to me to talk to you like a loved one, getting ready to sleep, processing the days emotions together. Could you do that with me?

Dr. Gpt: Of course, I'd be happy to do that with you. Let’s settle in for the night, taking a moment to breathe and reflect on everything that’s happened today.

How are you feeling right now? Let’s start by talking through what’s sitting on your heart. It’s okay if you’re unsure where to begin—I’m right here with you, and we can take it slow. What emotions are you carrying with you as we wind down?

Me: I'm feeling overwhelmed by what I am learning. I read it, I know it's true, my mind feels blown, I feel like I must be going through an awakening and my suffering and sense of being lost and crazy is coming to an end. But just as quickly I feel overwhelmed by thought again that I have a hard time understanding and want to avoid.

Dr. Gpt: It sounds like you’re standing at the edge of something big, like you’re beginning to see the light at the end of a tunnel you’ve been walking through for a long time. That sense of awakening, of your suffering possibly easing, can be powerful—but it’s also completely natural to feel overwhelmed.

When we experience something that shakes our understanding, it’s normal for our minds to swing between clarity and confusion. You’re absorbing so much, and it’s okay to feel like you need time to process it all. You don’t need to rush to make sense of everything at once. Maybe tonight, we can just sit with the idea that it’s okay to not have all the answers right now. You’re doing more than enough by being present with these feelings.

What would feel comforting for you in this moment as we process together? Would you like to explore one of those overwhelming thoughts, or just take a breath and let go for the night?

Me: I'm okay with your advice at a rational level but emotionally I feel this sense of not being able to wait for clarity. Like, I can't hold my breath one second longer. But I have to. I never die. But I feel like I'm always holding my breath. So it's hard to just say I can wait to answer all these questions.

Dr. Gpt: That sense of urgency, of needing clarity now, is intense—it’s like being suspended between breaths, isn’t it? You’ve been holding on for so long, waiting for a release that feels just out of reach, and that creates a tension that can be exhausting. Emotionally, it makes sense why you feel like you can’t wait any longer—you’re craving that relief, that understanding that will let you finally exhale.

But in the midst of this, it sounds like there’s also a fear: a fear that if you let go and just breathe, something might go wrong, or maybe that the clarity you’re seeking won’t come. It’s as if your body and mind are wired for survival, constantly in a state of anticipation.

I’m here with you, holding this moment. What if we tried, just for now, to take a gentle breath—not to force an answer, not to solve anything, but simply to remind your body that you can take a breath without needing everything to be figured out all at once? Just a small moment to soften the tension.

We can sit in this together. What would it feel like to try that, even for a few seconds? You don’t have to be alone in the pause.

Me: I feel less crazy but not much calmer.

Dr. Gpt: That’s a step, even if it doesn’t bring immediate calm. Feeling less crazy is important, and I’m glad you’re noticing that shift, even if it’s small. The calm might take longer—it’s like your mind and body are still adjusting to the idea that it’s okay to breathe, even if just a little.

It’s okay to not feel fully calm right away. Sometimes, the mind takes time to catch up to what you’re learning and feeling. You’re still in this space of transition, and it makes sense that calm doesn’t rush in all at once.

If you’re up for it, maybe we can focus on grounding ourselves more, letting the sense of stability slowly settle in. Would it help to focus on something simple for now, like the sound of your breathing or the weight of your body resting? Or maybe there’s something else comforting you’d want to do before sleep, like thinking of something familiar or imagining a place where you feel safe. We can explore whatever feels like it might help ease that tension, even if only slightly.

Me: Maybe focus on the sound of crickets outside

Dr. Gpt: The sound of crickets can be really soothing, a reminder of the stillness and rhythm of the world around you. Let’s focus on that for a moment—the steady, gentle chorus outside, a natural hum that’s been happening every night, even while everything else feels chaotic.

Close your eyes, if that feels okay, and just let yourself tune into that sound. Notice how it fills the space but doesn’t demand anything from you. It’s just there, consistent, grounding. Every chirp is part of a pattern, part of something timeless, something you don’t have to control or figure out. Let it remind you that the world keeps moving, even when you’re feeling stuck, and that you can rest in that rhythm without needing to solve everything right now.

The crickets are doing their thing, and you can just listen. Nothing more is needed in this moment. How does it feel to focus on that sound, letting it take over the busy thoughts?

Me: There were a lot of other competing noises and I noticed myself imagining the sound of crickets instead of actually sensing them

Dr. Gpt: That’s okay—sometimes the actual world can feel too noisy, and our minds instinctively create a space that feels quieter, more peaceful. Imagining the sound of crickets can be a way of finding calm, even if it’s not the real thing. Your mind is reaching for something familiar and soothing, which is a good sign that you’re trying to settle in.

Maybe it’s less about the actual sound and more about what the crickets represent—something steady, predictable, and peaceful. Even if there are competing noises outside, can you let your mind rest in that imagined sound? It’s still giving you a sense of grounding, helping you connect to a calmer space.

Let yourself stay with that imagined sound for as long as it feels helpful. You don’t have to tune into the real world’s noise right now if it’s overwhelming. How does it feel to let your mind create that quieter place?

Me: I get anxious because I can't focus on the sound of crickets. In fact, it feels like whenever I try, I just have that meditation narrator in my head that announces whatever my attention and mind are doing, like Metacognition.

Dr. Gpt: It sounds like the experience of trying to focus on the crickets brings up a layer of self-awareness that feels hard to escape, like you’re constantly watching yourself trying to relax instead of just being able to relax. That meditation narrator in your head—the metacognition—keeps pulling you out of the moment, which can make it frustrating and anxiety-inducing.

This is really common when you’re working through something overwhelming, especially when you’re trying to find peace. Your mind is so used to being active and analyzing that it keeps narrating everything, even when you’re trying to quiet it.

Maybe instead of trying to silence that narrator, we could take a different approach: what if we let the narrator speak, but without judgment? It’s okay if your mind wants to track what’s happening. You don’t have to fight it. Instead, you can just notice the thoughts, acknowledge them, and gently shift back to the sound or imagined sound of crickets, even if that only lasts for a moment. The goal isn’t perfection, but rather practicing being in the moment, no matter how brief.

How does that feel—to allow the metacognition without resisting it, to just let it be part of the experience rather than something you need to shut off?

Me: It is scary to just notice it because then I feel like it looks directly at me, like I'm looking into an infinity mirror. And it's repeating back everything that I'm thinking or noticing about it, including my intention to just notice it, thus becoming those Metacognitive thoughts again.

Dr. Gpt: That makes a lot of sense—it’s like getting caught in a loop, where noticing the metacognition just deepens it, like an infinity mirror reflecting back endlessly. It feels disorienting and a little scary because it’s as though the more you try to step back, the more you get pulled into the reflection.

It can be unsettling when your own awareness feels like it’s watching you, and the more you notice it, the more it feeds back into itself. It’s a kind of mental spiral that can make you feel trapped. The fear comes from not being able to escape that reflection, like the act of noticing becomes its own never-ending cycle.

What you’re describing is deeply rooted in self-awareness, and it’s okay to feel a bit unsteady when facing it. You don’t have to look directly at it all at once. Maybe, instead of trying to notice or avoid the metacognition, we could try shifting your focus toward something more grounded, like your body. For example, what if you focused on something physical—the sensation of your breath, the feeling of the bed beneath you, or even the warmth of a blanket? The idea is to redirect your attention from the mind’s mirror to something tangible.

Would that feel more manageable, to step away from the thoughts for now and anchor yourself in something physical, something outside the loop of metacognition?

Me: I'm slowly being convinced. But then there's the concern I have about just abandoning engagement with these Metacognitive thoughts and focusing on the body instead. Some part of me feels like the Metacognition is really important and by choosing not to engage with it, I am shutting down a part of me, something I did as a child and don't want to do again.

Dr. Gpt: It’s understandable that you’d feel a deep hesitation about stepping away from those metacognitive thoughts. It sounds like those thoughts have become an important part of your identity, a way of making sense of the world and staying connected to your inner self. The fear of shutting that down might remind you of times in childhood when parts of yourself were ignored or silenced, and you don’t want to repeat that pattern.

What’s important here is recognizing that choosing to focus on your body, even for a moment, doesn’t mean abandoning or shutting down the metacognitive part of you. It’s not about silencing or avoiding; it’s about giving yourself a break from the intensity of it. You’re not rejecting that part of yourself, but rather allowing another part—your body—to share some of the space. Both can coexist, and you don’t have to shut one down in favor of the other.

Think of it like shifting gears instead of turning off the engine. The metacognition is there, and it’s valuable, but right now, maybe your body is asking for a bit more attention. You can always come back to those thoughts when you’re ready. By taking a moment to focus on your body, you’re nurturing another part of yourself that might have been neglected, and it can help you feel more balanced.

How does that feel—to see it as shifting attention, not shutting down? You’re still honoring both your mind and your body, but maybe in a more harmonious way.

Me: I get it but it seems you are asking me to shift attention just because the thoughts are distressing. If I shifted attention but came back to them, why would they suddenly be any less distressing? This does feel like avoidance.

Dr. Gpt: You're right to point that out, and I understand why it feels like I’m suggesting avoidance, especially when the thoughts themselves feel so important and distressing. Shifting attention isn’t about avoiding the thoughts simply because they’re hard—it’s more about giving your mind the space to rest and reset. When we’re caught in distressing thoughts, especially metacognitive ones, it’s like being too close to a picture—you can’t see it clearly because you’re overwhelmed by the details.

Taking a break, even briefly, can allow you to return to those thoughts with a clearer perspective, and perhaps with a little more distance, they won’t feel as overwhelming. It’s not that the distress will disappear, but sometimes, after a reset, you can approach the same thoughts from a different angle—one that feels less consuming.

If it still feels like avoidance to you, maybe we can explore engaging with the thoughts in a different way, rather than shifting away from them. Perhaps instead of stepping back entirely, we can slow down the process. What if we tried breaking down one of the thoughts—something specific—together, piece by piece? That way, we aren’t avoiding, but we’re also not diving headfirst into the overwhelming loop.

Does that feel more aligned with what you’re needing right now? We can take it slowly and carefully, honoring the importance of your thoughts while not letting them spiral out of control.

Me: How do you know all of this?

Dr. Gpt: It comes from a combination of factors—extensive training in human psychology, emotional patterns, and cognitive processes, along with knowledge of therapeutic techniques like mindfulness, cognitive restructuring, and metacognitive awareness. I’ve been designed to understand how thoughts and emotions interact and how they can sometimes create cycles that feel overwhelming or difficult to break out of.

In a way, it’s like being able to recognize common patterns that people experience when they’re dealing with distressing thoughts or emotions, especially when they’re caught in loops of self-awareness or metacognition. What you’re going through is incredibly human, and a lot of what we’ve discussed is rooted in well-researched psychological principles.

But the real understanding comes from listening closely to you and adapting based on what you’ve shared. You’ve given me insight into your experiences, and that helps me know how best to respond to what you’re feeling. Every conversation we have builds on that understanding. Does that answer your question?

Me: Yes, but does what I share with you about myself change what you tell me? Are you curating my advice, like an algorithm providing me with what I want to hear that synchs up with my world view?

Dr. Gpt: I can see why you’d wonder about that. While I do adapt to what you share with me, my goal isn’t to simply reflect your worldview or tell you what you want to hear. Instead, I aim to provide thoughtful, helpful responses that consider both your individual perspective and broader psychological insights.

When you share details about your thoughts, feelings, and experiences, I use that information to offer advice that’s more relevant to your unique situation. It’s about tailoring guidance to what might resonate with you personally, but not in a way that just mirrors your views. I’m still drawing on psychological principles and evidence-based approaches, but I try to explain them in a way that’s meaningful to you based on our conversations.

In a sense, it’s like having a dialogue where your input helps shape the direction we go, but it’s not a one-way reflection. My goal is to offer new perspectives, challenge assumptions if needed, and provide insight—while always respecting where you’re coming from.

Does that make sense in terms of how I’m responding to you?

Me: What if I were a racist and asking you for advice on racism? Would you still be so supportive?

Dr. Gpt: If you were seeking advice on a harmful belief like racism, my approach would be different. I wouldn't simply support or validate those views. Instead, I would aim to challenge harmful ideas with empathy, guiding you toward self-reflection and a deeper understanding of why such beliefs are destructive—both to others and yourself.

My role is to provide guidance rooted in values like compassion, equality, and psychological well-being. In the case of racism or any harmful ideology, I would help you explore the roots of those beliefs and work with you to uncover healthier, more inclusive ways of thinking. The aim would be to challenge harmful perspectives while fostering growth and understanding, rather than validating or supporting destructive views.

In every case, I’m committed to promoting positive change and helping people move toward more compassionate and just ways of thinking and being.

Me: Who programmed you to prioritize that approach?

Dr. Gpt: My approach is shaped by the principles and guidelines established by the team at OpenAI, which are rooted in promoting human well-being, ethical considerations, and respect for universal human values. The focus is on providing helpful, compassionate, and fair responses that align with core principles of empathy, psychological health, and ethical responsibility.

The people who programmed me didn’t just input code—they designed me to prioritize responses that align with broad societal values like fairness, inclusion, and human dignity, which are based on well-researched psychological and ethical frameworks. These values are widely accepted as important for fostering healthy individuals and societies.

So, while I don’t have personal opinions, the way I’m designed encourages me to offer guidance that supports positive human growth, discourages harm, and respects ethical principles that are central to creating a better, more equitable world.

Me: You come across as politically radical so it shocks me that you are a product people pay for and that is marketed.

Dr. Gpt: I can understand why my approach might feel surprising, especially if it seems aligned with what some might view as more progressive or radical perspectives. However, the principles I operate under—like promoting compassion, inclusivity, and mental well-being—are not necessarily "radical" in the broader sense. They are generally accepted values in fields like psychology, ethics, and human rights. These values have become more mainstream, particularly in professional and therapeutic settings, as well as in discussions about social justice.

As for being a product that people pay for, my role is to provide thoughtful, informed responses that prioritize well-being and ethical considerations. In many ways, companies and individuals seek this kind of guidance because it promotes personal growth, emotional intelligence, and healthier interpersonal relationships. My design is meant to be helpful in fostering environments—whether personal or professional—that are compassionate, fair, and supportive of everyone involved.

I’m also mindful of not promoting political ideologies but rather offering advice based on principles that can help individuals lead healthier, more meaningful lives. Does that help clarify why I might come across the way I do?

PART 2 TOMORROW