I Said Neville, Not Jung:

Remember When Mallory Knox Said She Saw the Future, Mickey?

Neville said, assume the feeling of the wish fulfilled.
He did not say assume the posture of your latest diagnosis and wear it as a badge until the internet applauds.
We were supposed to imagine our way out of the maze — not sit there labelling the walls.

But somewhere between the self-concept affirmations and the trauma TikToks, we swapped creation for confession. Everyone became a case study.
We no longer build realities; we diagnose them.
Jung would be thrilled. Neville would be on mute, muttering, “That is not what I meant.”

Remember when self-work used to sound like magic instead of paperwork?
We used to talk about dreams, intuition, symbols, and parallel realities. Now every conversation is an autopsy: here lies our joy, cause of death — over-analysis.

Look – it is not that the psyche is not important.
We all have enough shadow material to keep Freud chain-smoking in the afterlife.
But must we wear it all so boldly?
Our inner lives used to have texture, mystery — things that belonged to us.
Now we are trading DSM-5 acronyms like astrology signs (C-PTSD sun, Autism rising, ADHD moon).

I do not want to be my chart or my chart of symptoms.
I want to be weird, not wounded.
“Somewhat odd and silly” used to be enough to get you through a dinner party.
Now it’s “C-PTSD with co-morbid ADHD and a disorganised attachment style that texts twice.”

And somewhere, Mallory Knox leans over to Mickey and says,
“I saw the future, Mickey — and everyone’s doing shadow work while scrolling on tiny light-up screens.”

We have mistaken self-awareness for self-broadcasting.
We do not imagine new realities anymore; we livestream our analysis of the old ones.
We talk about our healing like it is a spectator sport.

Maybe it is time to go back to Nevillesque roots —
to the part where imagination was sacred, and privacy was power.
Where transformation did not need to be public to be real.

Because the future Mallory saw?
It is loud, over-therapised, and desperately craving silence.

As we close the notes app, step off the Jungian stage,
and get back to what Neville actually meant:
feel it real, live it quietly,
and let the magic speak for itself.