the torment of unrest

this chemical malfunction
this neurosis
this mental malady
this craziness
this black dog
causes me so much undue pain
i feel it so deeply
sometimes i really worry
i worry about my heart exploding
broken heart pain is real
and sometimes my head feels like
it wants to explode too
like an aneurysm
this seizure of feeling
wears me threadbare
and my best friend is my bed

Self absorbed and in toward

I hope this day is just extra bad by itself

Sometimes it is that way

a day

will be

torturously

tiresome

I know I am out of balance

I need to know where it lies

and make adjustments

But I can't seem to get the proper reception

My feelers don't know which way to tune

Breakfast with Therapy

When I first started treatment for my depression I included from the start therapeutic one on one counseling with a professional trained in the field. This person is of unique perspective and invaluable service providing a mirror into myself that I didn't know was possible.

Ninety minutes, once a week, for a full year I went to see him. I bled my heart out with him and shed so much misery as he reflected the goodness that was in everything I experienced. Everything that had me on this path to madness.

I must emphasize that the therapy we did was very intense. And not only just for me.

I had to relive so much in that office. So much including complex trauma from being a victim of a horrible crime. A crime you'd kill for if it happened to your mother.

I'd leave his office in an absolute total dissociative fugue. An unbelievable otherworldly state. I'd have to walk around the campus for an hour to compose myself before I could drive. Often finding a secluded place to purge myself of so much misery...heartbreak flowing from my soul through so many tears

One day I was trying to shake this yuck off of me. This awful black cloud. I starting thinking about funny things. Just random stuff that never fails to make me laugh. The sort of stuff that pops in your head out of nowhere. Like in the grocery store line, forcing your face to turn red as you try and stifle your laughter. Then I started thinking. I wonder what Dr Dear does to decompress? After all he's not a robot. He must have received some sort of training to shield himself from the horrible stories spewing from my mouth. Then I started laughing. All I could imagine was my Dr. scrubbing himself down in his office, but with what? What would he use? And that's when I thought...I know he's using cocoa puffs! out of his lunch box! Ritually cleansing his face of the residue of my sorrow...

Chemical Sensitivities

I am beginning to suspect that I experience adverse reactions to the chemicals associated with the effects of experiencing love

It's a silly/nice metaphor and such, but all jesters aside I believe I just might have a hypersensitivity

And I think I just might be on to something

I will surely find out more about this while studying physiology

One's things for certain though, nothing else has gotten me as high as love has

Dear Universe, Thanks for helping me get smarter, but sheesh already,

Do you have to insist on being such a heartless tyrant?

Your lessons although priceless and brilliant are relentless in their level of difficulty and since I have earned quite a bit of seniority on the scene, I feel it is high time you re-visit your lesson plan

You've got my attention you know





You can stop yelling at me now

Is True Objectivity Possible?

Since the measuring device has been constructed by the observer...
we have to remember that what we observe is not nature in itself,
but nature exposed to our method of questioning. -

Werner Karl Heisenberg (1901-1976)

Time acts as space does when distancing oneself from a delusion

It is circular in this action

orbiting away

in an upward whirlpool

Momentous moments with more moments in between

My emotions trick me

they are the neurotic

but because they come in the form of emotion

when they strike me, i pay attention

as if they somehow are representing something urgent

an emergency

to be so keyed up this way

has to mean

something

something like

something must be wrong

what that something is

is anyone's guess

The Day I Tickled My Hippocampus

I am studying neurophysiology. I am learning much about the physical structure of, namely, the brain...
All of its hemispheres, components, systems, failures, diseases, malfunctions, etc.

I know all too good and well that my brain has some sort of organic malady. And through my studies I have learned that the area most likely to be affected in a brain such as mine will be the limbic system. And of that system, the amygdala and the hippocampus will have taken the hardest hits. One is hyperactive when it should be mellow, and the other is just the opposite. That's putting it really really basically.

I know what the limbic structure looks like. I've seen it in MRIs, CT scans, drawings, paintings, computer generated, animated images, autopsy photos...everything but, ummm, in the flesh...

I am really game to try anything, really what ever it takes to sooth my psychological unrest. I start imaginging my very own limbic system, and how it's stressed, and ailing, and tired. I start sort of empathising with its condition, trying to figure out ways to make it feel better, sooth it in a nurturing way. I imagine little hands with silken fingers, petting it and tickling it most lovingly. Carressing it and showing it some attention, right down to the cells of it, the molecular structure. I start laughing cause it is so playful and silly. I assume I do it in jest, but I see in all actuality it feels effective...in a good way...in a caring way...how amazing to be able to sooth my own brain by comforting its inner workings.

"Hope is the bridge between success and failure"

this is true and sometimes i do

feel so hopeless

i don't like to but it just happens

you know

sometimes

Well, for one, he was afraid of spiders & killed them indiscrimentally

I stopped a friendship from developing with a person
because I feared acquiring, adopting, the quirks,
or what appeared to be quirks to me, in their personality

As of yet, I have not been defined.
I have not defined myself.
I have trouble distinguishing what is you from

What is me

What is me

?

NOT a spider killer...

Stream of Consciousness Writing

Okay, here is something all weird and funky you might wanna hear. Once I went to the movies with my bro Wilhelm. It was a Tuesday matinee for a Star Trek movie. No one was there, well not many of us. Anyway, you’re walking into the theatre with your popcorn and soda. You scan quickly for a seat. Right in the middle of my seat scanning my eyes come to an immediate halt…. Errrrrrrrrr! Or what ever tire screeching sounds like when sliding. What was it that drew my attention so hard and sharply? Tune in next week and ‘Ill tell you all about it… No really, right there in the middle of the theater sat a patron and this patron was not your ordinary patron no… no no no this patron was special. Not only was he sitting there alone in the middle of the theatre, with a big, shaven head, he was sitting there with red sequined DEVIL HORNS crowning is shinny dome! Me and Wil immediately see this and we both look at each other like dumb and dumber holding back our laughter, to the kind of tune you make when your about to pop. We totally wanted to crack up. I think I will leave here and come back as another person. I see this page is just loaded with red marks like a Polluck painting. Condescending little red marks all over the place; as if word perfect is my Nazi schoolmarm and each and every mistake I make is caught immediately and hauled off and stamped with with a scarlet letter. So anyway I will ignore that… oh damn it has been seven minutes. I think I will go past the 10 minutes. I really want to as this is so fun… it really is, which brings me to the not so fun, referring to this morning. I wake and I see that it is the day light hour the first thing that pops in my head was something from a dream, and it said fruits, vegetables and intellectuals. I’m like hey that sounds pretty clever, I need to write that down. So I thought about writing it down and then I said to my self, in a minute in a minute…it needs to soak a little in the sink… mm hmm, like I am just resting my eyes… Again, I think to myself, hey I need to write that down and 2 hours later I have. It has been 10 minutes. Now I will save this again, “Control Ess” is the keyboard shortcut. Keyboard shortcuts are very helpful and useful for me. Okay, you wanna hear something funny? The whole time I have been typing this, I myself have been brazenly sporting horns, red sequined devil horns. The End.

The 13 Moon Calendar

It occurred to me that perhaps the entirety of my psychological unrest, rests on the fact that I have bought into the idea of the Gregorian Calendar. I've bought it lock, stock and barrel...hook line and stinker. I have a receipt for the whole nine yards of it.

I am very avail to set my self up to start using an alternative. The 13 Moon Calendar of days and times, places and people yon past seems much more conducive to me.

I think it is worth a try. I mean I would try anything to gain some perspective on this madness.

Time has NEVER made sense to me.

It really could be my problem.

The very crux of it all...

Learning what anxious is...

For a full day after my last psychotherapy visit, I was very anxious and upset. Tyler and I talked about Dror and that stirred up the huge cauldron of emotions that I have tied to him. I have come away from that therapy/client relationship with my Dear Dr Dror with many unresolved expressions, feelings, emotions, etc.etc... Time has been good to me as far as distancing the heartbreak of our parting. But to stir it up, investigate it, study it like we did, brought so much of it back to me. It has been a year more or less that I became aware, on heavy levels that I was soon to be without him. The particular placement of the planet at this time of year does something to stir up my feeling towards him too I see. the particular placement of the planet this time of year...that effect is very worthy of reflection. Places on Earthly planes of perspective are recollective of instances gone by, so it only serves to reason that the orbit of the earth, the specific places in its oblique circle, stir up memories and images much the same way...aaah Dror...I reflect upon you so much, you have to be a satellite of mine...

Some explanation & clarification is needed as to the meaning of this!

“What is this self inside us, this silent observer,
Severe and speechless critic, who can terrorize us,
And urge us on to futile activity,
And in the end, judge us still more severely,
For the errors into which his own reproaches drove us?”

-- T. S. Eliot

The Problem With Being Crazy

Sometimes I think my sadness will overwhelm me to the point that my heart will break
Literally break
Shatter
Explode

It starts pounding and racing
and aching

Then I start worrying that it could really happen, and it makes me calm down, so I won't break it, cause if my heart really breaks I would surely die

All this just happened right now. I sometimes get triggered from a flashback to a time of past terror. I have lots of skills to combat flashbacks and I practice them intervening on my behalf, a lot of the time. But sometimes my skills don't work. Nothing works. And I start my hysteria...the downward spiral crossed the point of no return.

And I cry and I feel it...my heart certainly gets a good workout at least, right? Haha the optimist has come back!

I love mood swings...

The Dark Path of a Reclusive Black Widow

In Her Mourning Gown
Brown Mascara running down

Leading to the way

From now On

Past Toys
Beyond Boys

The swell of tears
Brought Her here



Often Death marks a Turning Point
In One's Life

I'll keep my cigarettes and air conditioning though

I am feeling nervous and aprehensive cause

I can feel my personality changing via controlled and embellished chemical pathways
I wonder how I can best take advantage of this mechanism
Control the course
To my best ends...

The Reality of Truth

Giving yourself permission to be crazy
Is acknowledging that you are
Which is, of course, acceptance

Latent and Low Latent Inhibition

Latent Inhibition is the natural ability to filter out the majority of incoming stimuli to the brain so one can concentrate and not be bogged down by extraneous information incidental to one's focus. Some people have Low Latent Inhibition and depending on the degree as I see it, it can be crippling as in psychosis or a tool of enlightenment for someone with an artistic slant. Here is a list of the "Pros" of Low Latent Inhibition. When I read it I see that I can identify with the majority of the "symptoms". My therapist specialises in Psychosis and when I asked him he said I am definitely not in that catagory. I believe him but nonetheless I certainly can empathize and relate with the condition.

1. You notice more, hear more, smell more and feel more through tactile contact. Without any conscious effort, your mind is in possession of a broader intake of information.
   

2. Upon encountering any form of stimulus (that interests you), your mind automatically dismantles and explores its components.
   

3. You usually see through the lies and the deceptions that people use in everyday life.
   

4. When learning, you can often make instantaneous changes.
   

5. Self-correction is easy because the underlying principle is more evident. Clearer.
   

6. Your memory is good. You can recall extensive details without effort.
   

7. You make connections and associations between seemingly unrelated material.
   

8. Comprehension is typically easy. You notice the non-verbal background information and this often provides a more comprehensive picture than what is being spoken.
   

9. There are exponential leaps of insight taking place all the time, with the background reasoning intact. Wave-upon-wave of permutations, options, variables and choices.
   

10. Creativity is a given. You see alternatives.
    

11. You notice things that other people miss.
    

12. You are innately organised.
    

13. There is no talking voice in your head. No 'chattering monkey'. The volume and complexity of the information drowns out conscious thought entirely.
    

14. Verbalising what takes place in your mind is impossible. Words render only a fraction of the entirety.
    

15. You see the world more thoroughly.
    

16. Listening to other people talking/thinking aloud can be infuriating. They are at point A when you have reached point N already.
    

17. Learning is not limited to defined periods of academic study. The assimilation of information is constant, ongoing and never static. There are no lulls or pauses. Everything offers a lesson.
    

18. Within the maelstrom of information there exists a place of calm and quietude. The eye of the storm. No verbalisation exists. No internal narrative. Just presence. No sense of self to intrude of interrupt.

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