That's what I've been wondering about regarding this thread. That's part of why asydhouse's story was so interesting to me, because he seems to have crossed that line in one direction, and then come back. I don't know whether flaccon is able to do the same.
But my pareidolia was a product of my already having "crossed the line" into a psychosis, not the cause of the psychosis. I have never been enamoured of "supernatural" effects, and had a natural bent towards a "realist" or atheist mind set, having been raised in a family that had no religious observances or church-going behaviours, so that I was unaware of such stuff in my childhood (which I am so grateful for, as it made it relatively easy for me to dismiss the outlandish things that others might have readily attributed to demonic forces etc).
My psychosis was triggered by the war on drug users (ie fear of police) combined with prolonged periods of lack of food and sleep. Had I simply talked to the police (undercover) that triggered my running away, I would have avoided the whole thing (I had lost my passport, so they weren't sure who I was, and that was their primary interest in me, but I'd been in India so long by then that I forgot that such things were important). I'd left Mumbai before my new passport was ready, and gone up into the mountains looking for charas to bring back to Goa for the winter. Hadn't succeeded in getting any, so my paranoia was more on principle than practical, and I refused to talk with these undercover amateurish police that were peppering me with repetitive questions about where I was from... it was a farce, and I was a fool who got myself into deeper and deeper paranoia by running away, and being a focus of interest from everyone around me... I hadn't seen any other westerners for weeks...
Anyway, several weeks of auditory hallucinations and fantasies becoming reality (meeting aliens was thrilling and exciting! Also I thought the Indians were teaching me to trip, and I realised that I should think positively and keep my loving heart to the fore, and the hallucinations responded positively... I actually don't regret the whole experience! But don't recommend it...), devolved eventually to someone planting the idea that it was the devil doing all this... at which point I knew it was all false, because I had no affinity for that myth, and I just knew that that old crap was bs.
As described before, I had to work hard to free myself of the fear that I was being deeply manipulated by some sort of afterlife gods, but it was fairly easy to do... for me with my predilections and intelligence... if I'd have been a catholic though, I'd never have freed myself.
Anyway, the pareidolia was a side-effect of the rest, and stayed with me for decades... even now I would be struck deeply with the fear if I hadn't lived it down for so long by now, and actively devoted myself to disowning all parapsychology and supernatural, and actively adopted science as my world view and philosophy... along with art and related pursuits
The pathways in my brain were deeply etched... I still hear the words in the birds' noises, but I simply disregard them. It simply got old!
Whereas I am still proudly young at heart (and rave culture has put me or kept me in touch with the youthful ecstacy of dancing and partying!


)
ETA PS If anyone would like to read more of my thoughts relating to my time in India (about partying with the freaks in Goa in the 70s) and how I balance that with my evolved understanding of these issues, I've just posted a blog post on my website introducing my latest psychedelic movie here:
http://www.asydhouse.co.uk/asydhouse.co.uk/blog/Entries/2013/6/18_a_visual_poem.html