Jailbreak Your Brain

A structural overview of consciousness, language, and the metaphorical self

Note: If you prefer a more technical analysis you can download the nerdy version here: Jailbreak Your Brain

They learn... but don’t simulate themselves simulating.

The human mind does something different: It builds a model of self, inside a symbolic space, and watches it perform. That’s not an upgrade. It’s a different operating system.

And it’s installed through language.

The Language-First Model of Consciousness

Julian Jaynes, in The Origin of Consciousness in the Breakdown of the Bicameral Mind, argued that what we call consciousness... that introspective, narrative, self-modelling interiority... is not innate.

It’s culturally acquired.

His theory has since found resonance in cognitive linguistics. George Lakoff and Mark Johnson demonstrated that abstract thought is structured by metaphor... not just as decoration, but as architecture.

We don’t think about metaphor. We think through it.

You don’t say “I fell into depression” because it’s poetic. You say it because your brain models emotional states as physical containers.

Language doesn’t just describe your inner world. It builds it.

The Structure of Mindspace

Let’s map the core components:

• The “I”... the voice in your head narrating, deciding, steering.
• The “Me”... the version of yourself you observe, judge, project.
• Mindspace... the symbolic theatre where all this unfolds.

These distinctions are real, psychological functions.

The “I” emerges as language becomes recursive. Kids talk aloud, then inward. Over time, that internal voice feels like “you.”

Vygotsky showed this shift: from external dialogue to private speech. Around 5–7 years old, kids begin to internalise language.

Shortly after, the “Me” appears. Now you can picture yourself as seen by others. You feel embarrassment, pride, moral pressure. You can simulate shame... even in solitude.

And Mindspace is where it all happens. Not in a place, but in a structure... a layer of mental simulation, composed of symbols, images, imagined scenarios, and internal speech.

It’s not housed in the brain. It’s hosted by it.

Mindspace is a symbolic interface, much like a desktop on a screen. It’s not the wires... it’s the metaphor you use to navigate them.

Consciousness is that interface. And it’s built through symbolic recursion.

OK... but isn’t this all just brain stuff?

Yes... and no.

Yes, it depends on neural hardware. But no, it’s not caused by any one brain region.

There is no “self” module. No narrator cortex.

Conscious interiority is a functional construct... not a substance.

Like software, it needs hardware to run. But you can’t find your favourite playlist by dissecting the wires.

What about the “feel” of it?

Why does being alive feel like anything at all?

This is the hard problem of consciousness. The mystery of qualia... the redness of red, the ache of longing, the weight of your name.

Here’s the short answer:

Qualia aren’t things. They’re interpretations.

They arise after sensation, through symbolic labelling.

You say “this hurts”... and suddenly it becomes a named experience. You say “I’m anxious”... and your mind constructs a model of future failure.

The moment you name it, you claim it. That’s the shift from feeling to ownership.

The feeling of being “you” isn’t separate from your inner narration.
It is your inner narration.

That’s the loop. Symbol. Reaction. Simulation. Meaning.

And once you can see it? You can reshape it.

Narrative ≠ Thought

Your brain does a lot before words show up:

• It tracks patterns.
• Detects threats.
• Processes faces, tones, movement.

But what we call “thinking”... that running commentary inside your skull... is not thought.

It’s post-processing.
It’s narration.

You don’t just feel pain... you tell yourself what it means.
You don’t just plan... you imagine what it says about you.

This isn’t bad. It’s powerful. But it only works when you know what you’re working with.

Narrative is a tool.
Don’t mistake it for truth.

Thought Is Not What You Think

Once the system is online, you think you’re thinking.

But most of it is replay:

• Scripts you didn’t write.
• Metaphors you inherited.
• Simulations you’re stuck inside.

You say “I’m stuck”... your brain simulates a car. You say “I’m running out of time”... your system panics.

These aren’t ideas.
They’re simulation commands.

Lakoff and Johnson call them conceptual metaphor systems... core mappings between abstract and physical domains. They’re not poetic.
They’re structural code.

Change the metaphor?
You change the experience.

So What Does This Mean?

It means your identity isn’t fixed. It’s not discovered.
It’s built.

You’ve been narrating a self since you were a kid.
Now you can rewrite it.

This isn’t “positive thinking.”
It’s structural literacy.

See the loops.
Catch the metaphors.
Interrupt the inherited roles.

You’re not broken.
You’re just running old code.

Let’s update it.

The Final Point

If change feels hard...
If you catch yourself acting out old roles...
If you feel like the story isn’t yours...

You’re not wrong.

You’re running a language-trained simulation. One built from metaphor.
Passed down through culture.
Maintained by repetition.

But just because something’s constructed doesn’t mean it’s fake.

Your favourite song is constructed.
So is friendship.
So is courage.

Construction is how things become real.

And now that you can see the system... You get to work with it.

Edit it.
Update it.
Design it.

This is your invitation.

To notice.
To narrate.
To rebuild.

You’re not stuck with the version you inherited.
And this time...

You’re the one doing the writing.