Author: Sender

Anatomy of a Fractured Thought

I and I and I have been manifest since early in my childhood and were compounded by the divorce of my parents and an accident I had when I was thirteen as I explained in my last piece. Further still by a forced abortion and a personal abandon.

Today, my best friend, lets call him Chase, told me that he believes that despite my ability to be off my medication (he, himself is medicated) that it is distinctly possible from his personal observation that I am delusional about my delusions AND that further it is exacerbated by my self medication. Now, being who I am, I realize, that the things I have done to mitigate my ‘issues’ do not necessarily work for everyone. Yet, since November, when I went off my meds, I believed that I had a handle on what was going on with my Bipolar, Major Depressive Disorder, my other affective disorder and my delusions. However, when your best friend tells you that you may not have a handle on it you have to listen, especially, when that friend suffers from the same problems as you. Moreover, due to the timing of certain incidents I am wondering if this might be a direct result of no longer being on Lithium, an unintended consequence, collateral damage if you will.

I wage battles daily with the three separate I’s that exist. It is not easy nor is it fun. Yet, neither was the pharmaceutical intervention after twenty years fighting on my own with a bottle of anything firmly in hand and every other vice of the sex, drugs and rock n’ roll lifestyle. Moving to Asia, as I did, I made the rational decision, that my life would be enriched by reclaiming me, the real me. So today, when Chase and I spoke, while it was particularly painful to hear that I may not have the handle on myself that I thought I did it also got me to thinking; Can we ever truly reclaim ourselves from the Black Dog. From Depression? From Paranoid Delusions? Can there really be ‘an answer’ that solves our issues? Ultimately, neither I, nor you, can answer that question as our experiences are as different as the therapists, institutions and medications we have had to take to mitigate our experience in a so called ‘normal’ world. 

As far as I am concerned, FUCK NORMAL, why would I want to be normal? Or you? The difficulty of our experiences, shared, though different, puts us in a constant state of mental fragility whereby our thoughts are fractured. Our self worth is fractured! Our knowledge of self is distorted. Of the world! Of the people we know! Our conceptions and understandings of the world are raped by these thoughts leaving invisible scars that no amount of therapy can ever deal with. Scars that no one but ourselves can or will ever see. Our battles are consistent. Living in each moment for what it is while at the same time having to question the certainty of that moment. Is this real? Imagined? If perception is reality, what does that mean to us? To you? To I?

The scourge of depression and its associated illnesses and disorders can never, however eloquent we are, be understood by those that do not experience them. As a writer, a warrior poet and a man I can attempt to explain in a vain effort to those who do not suffer but ‘they,’ think that we are sad. I am not sad. I am generally a happy person. Manic, but happy. It infuriates me that people can not see the torment that we go through. It pisses me off that we are marginalized by an ignorance that is pervasive across the board. Worse still, is that the ‘normal’ people try to deliver us from our ‘evils’ through drugs that are like darts being thrown at a dart board. Prior to making the MAJOR decision to come off my drugs I had been on a series of cocktails that out numbered the years of my life. The pervasive anguish associated with the scourge of our issues is enough to make us fall deeper into a pit that we can not get out of. Further still, the lack of understanding and ignorance, only makes us feel worse!

So what do we do? What do we do?

Fortunately, I have been granted by the Ether, this amazing ability and talent. The trance like state that produces these words almost as effortlessly as I breath. Blessing and curse. Usually more curse than blessing. For those of you out there, like me; write, paint, cook, read, do whatever you have to do to fight these demons. Do not give up. Do not give in. There is light at the end of the tunnel. WE CAN FIGHT! But, you need to choose to fight. It will require a herculean effort, minute by minute, day by day. It will sap everything you have in your soul BUT never allow yourself to fall prey to the temptation of a permanent solution to a temporary problem. Having Hemingway live in my head, those that love me dearly worry, that I will, pull a Hemingway. No longer able to drink or write I will put a shotgun in my mouth. However, I assure you, forums like this, the words from the Ether and a festering determination to live for those that love me, keeps me going AND it will you too.

This piece is based of one that I posted on my blog a while back the text of which follows herein;

Anatomy of Fractured Thought

The holy trinity of me,

I and I and I,

Fractured by misunderstood neural pathways,

Cerebral chemical reactions,

That science is yet to explain,

Always in place,

For decades ignored,

Or at least leashed in,

By a ritualistic self medication,

Befitting my Scottish and Irish heritage,

My self-profession of Warrior Poet,

Writer and seeker of life,

A virtual pugilist,

Knocking myself down and out,

Depression and repression,

Fighting,

That I might live to see another day, week, month and year.

 

The holy trinity of me,

Self actualized and realized,

I and I and I,

Defense mechanisms of a mind confounded,

Confused and abused,

Blessing and curse,

Obstacle and opportunity,

Commenced at birth,

Forged through struggle and strife,

Announcing proudly where once I was ashamed,

That these mighty words require,

My complete attention and affection,

Misunderstood realities that are my cage,

The chains that hold me down,

Yet drive me to seek out fractured redemption,

Once again become whole.

 

The holy trinity of me,

The anatomy of fractured thoughts,

Insurmountable yet percipient,

The dominant I,

Rational and determined,

Sucker punched by the secondary I,

An emotional tidal wave of explosive currents,

Entreating me to my destiny,

Lover, husband and father,

All of which seem like the prevailing wind of change,

Fantasies without accomplishment that pierce my wounded heart,

The third I,

The white tissue of brain that matters,

While black and white turn to grey,

Round four in a twelve round bout,

This altercation yet decided,

Internal judgment and external anticipation,

Of something yet to come.

 

The holy trinity of me,

I and I and I,

Paranoid delusions,

Fantastical illusions of educated discernment,

Manic up and manic down,

The level headed stabilization of me yet complete,

Pharmacological management,

Several pills a day,

Commenced that I may find freedom from my banal dog,

Black,

Howling not at the wind or the moon,

But at my own self-awareness,

Barking its discontent with my desire to push on,

Regardless of this plight,

As today I find the courage to laugh in the tightened face,

Of my prosecuting hound,

Dog.

 

The holy trinity of me,

I and I and I,

Attenuated by therapy and drugs,

Determined that my self worth,

My meaning,

My destiny,

Is held here in high regard,

One piece at a time,

In spite of the very real challenges,

That these split personalities solicit,

Deep within,

My souls entrapment,

Burdened by my minds realizations of real and imagined,

In the absence of love,

Wishing to touch another so deeply,

That in these words,

They discover themselves,

And I can rightfully claim my self-anointed title,

Warrior Poet.

 

SDM

 

Remember, always remember, we have to make decisions every day that are not like other people, decisions as simple as getting out of bed, brushing our teeth, showering, shaving, going to work, EATING. Despite the difficulty in these decisions you have to make them. Daily. Force yourself. You will live a better life for it. Difficult yes, but it can and will get better if you are determined to fight.

I fight because of my love, I fight for you, I fight for my family and I fight for me.

NOSCE TE IPSUM…

A la prochaine…

Be Inspired Today! Love and Light from Laos,

It’s a manic world.

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