Temporary Cognitive Hyperparameter Alteration

A widescreen image featuring a central figure of a stylized cosmonaut in a spacesuit with shamanic elements. The spacesuit is decorated with traditional shamanic symbols and patterns, and the cosmonaut wears a headdress that blends a space helmet with shamanic ceremonial wear. The background is split, with one side showing a starry space scene and Soviet-era space program imagery, while the other side displays natural, earthy elements such as a forest, fire, and tribal patterns. Surrounding the central figure are chemical structures and pill shapes, swirling energy patterns, and sacred geometry, representing altered states of consciousness. Small icons symbolize different mind states, like a meditation pose, social interaction symbol, and brain icon. The color scheme blends earthy tones (browns, greens) for the shamanic elements, cool blues and grays for the space and Soviet aspects, and vibrant accent colors (purples, yellows) for the altered states or drug effects.

Social anxiety is one hell of a thing. I used to struggle with it a lot — escaping pressure by fleeing to the toilet. I’ve reduced my levels of social anxiety by bashing it over the head with exposure therapy, repeatedly dealing with anxiety-provoking situations until they became manageable.

Nowadays, my levels of social anxiety are low enough to be barely noticeable. I mainly notice my social anxiety when I have a “control” — an unusually uninhibited person that can serve as contrast. Besides serving as ad hoc control groups, these people tend to be fun at parties.

Looking at how unusually uninhibited people act, compared to me, has helped me find situations where my actions are constrained by social anxiety. Unfortunately, these people are different to me in ways unrelated to social anxiety. Differences in action can stem from different preferences — my lover doesn’t like restaurants, for instance.

Luckily, I can temporarily turn off my social anxiety. All it takes is some Soviet-era Cosmonaut-enhancement drug. The drug is a mild mood enhancer, energy booster, and anxiety-reducer. When I’m on it, I feel like I have an unusually good day, and my social anxiety is greatly reduced.

Note/Disclaimer:
Though sold as a legal supplement in Sweden, phenibut is highly addictive if used more than 2-3 times a week. The effects are mild, making it easy to underestimate/overuse. Do not use it if you tend to fall into addictions.
It takes 3 hours to start working, tempting people to re-dose — and accidentally overdosing. It has the same anti-anxiety effects as alcohol — mixing the two can lead to overdose with nasty side-effects.

Taking phenibut allows me to run great experiments. I can throw myself into normally challenging social situations, act unusually uninhibited, and check what happens. Everything I do when I’m kamratski-enhanced, I can do sober. Testing things out in real life — instead of ruminating on anxiety-distorted scenarios — gives me a more accurate view of my social potential.

Managed Anxiety Is Still Anxiety

Many people — including me — have great anxiety-reducing strategies.

When I get stressed, I take breaths with long exhales to calm down. I check in with people, asking things like: “How did that feel to you?”. I break patterns of hesitancy by taking breaks and returning with “more momentum”.

I reframe situations, focusing on connection and joy instead of anxiety. I build myself up, tapping into aliveness connected to doing crazy things.

My social anxiety is very well managed — but managed anxiety is still anxiety.

My management strategies have side effects — such as needing to stop and breathe/reorient. Imperfections in my strategies allow anxiety to slip through and affect me. I limit myself in subtle ways, instinctively avoiding actions likely to trigger strong anxiety responses.

Using a Soviet-era cosmonaut-enhancement drug is one way to check what happens when there’s no anxiety there to manage. The differences are tangible.

I noticed a drastic shift in how flirting was for me — normally it feels like an ordeal, a challenge to figure out and overcome. Without social anxiety, it turns into an enjoyable process of figuring out whether I want to go further with someone. This shift in mindsets has lasted beyond kamratski-enhancement, with a permanent subtle reframing of how I do intimacy.

I’ve noticed that I’m better at changing my mind, ejecting myself from social situations when I get bored — even if it’s a socially weird thing to do.

I’ve noticed that I connect more easily with what I want, rather than being stuck in what I should want. I spent hours at the Swedish version of Burning Man, just walking around, enjoying the sensations of grass under my feet and the flow of people. Normally, I would have over-compensated for social anxiety, pushing myself to connect as a way to overcome hesitancy. Without social anxiety or coping mechanisms in the way, I realized that I simply didn’t feel like connecting.