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From My Perspective- This is not a Family History Part 11

From My Perspective- This is not a Family History Part 11

Awoken in me is a demon. Because of unpredictability of an awry upbringing, good will became misfortune. As noted in earlier chapters I do not want the causation bestowed upon my parents backs. It is my burden.

Inside that burden is a child looking desperately for an identity. I was brought up with french Quebec relatives and a King James bible on the kitchen table. Mediation between myself and the demon-like characteristics I developed was and is my responsibility. Three to five years post psychotic episode I cried out to the Lord for love. I asked for someone to console me and guide me to self-worth as my mother had done. Someone to share lustful thought, touch, and time unlike how my mother had done.

She was not in Brampton, for all I could attrat there was long lost liars and demonic triggered women who i would never trust. When my sister and Dave brought music back to me and care took to teach me the chords on a guitar I decided to go to Waterloo.

There the second Catherine had appeared. A student of Wilfred Laurier in religious studies. Our affair was periodic, and never fully felt on my end. I believe she could love me but I was too shallow to love her. A truly wonderful person, she critiqued my writing and set me forth as a professor would towards simplifying my sentences. As many pretentious asshole self absorbed artists do I scoffed at her, and said she didn’t get it. But now I thank her for her criticism. Although I still finish sentences with ‘of’.

Some women are not worth mentioning because of their minor affect on my future. Pure rejection of my homeless style-less corduroy fashion which was inspired by an earlier epoch. I must smell, reeking of instability, and to some seem unpresentable.

On the side of Childebeast my amateur soft rock band of obsessive involvement I dreamed of the quaint, artistic, strong female I believed would repair me. I moved home to Orangeville after I visited a friend circle from high-school. An old friend Jesse brought her cousin Christina to the party that night. For the first time in a while a pretty face with a decent sense of humor looked at me in the right way. Our relationship became, and I was ready to be repaired.

Instantly little betrayals triggered my insecurities. Pictures of an ex-boyfriend, she had more than a few male friends (some ex-crushes), her curiosity to look up at her ex-boyfriends apartment window were instances causing anger. Jealousy was my new protector against this girl who I thought would fix my problems. The relationship lasted a year, and in it was terrible communication toxic jealous and distrust on my part, and a lack of love again to relish. Christina appears to be in a much more stable relationship now with a better man for her. I moved on also a week after our break up to Hope. A Zellers coworker who has a great sense of humor and an artistic upside which attracted me.

I was entranced by her movements. The way she moved was unlike any one. She was a youth trained dancer and her dancing career failed nuclear family, much like mine. We saws some thing in each other which we could see in ourselves. We were children of the same nature. Neglect, art, and the revival there of. We moved to my mothers, and I began to mold her into my fantasy of a woman. “Be more artistic, more quaint, you have it in you”, “stop looking at him” I would demand again jealousy was aroused, anger too. Trust wasn’t there but we fervently tried to love each other. She said “I dont think I can get pregnant, I’m worried”. I was into the idea of conceiving. We did. two years into an unstable relationship compact with rage, neglect, jealousy, and moments of undeniable affection Owen was born. On the midwifery bed in Waterloo I saw the most alien thing occurred, an earth alien birthed before my eyes. I couldn’t believe this child was mine.

Post birth Hopes love for me dwindled to nothing, and the energy that was once spared for me went to Owen. She seemed to have what she wanted and she began talking to another man. I was jealous of my own son, and I pleaded with her for intercourse. Maybe I wanted sex, but more importantly I wanted the love she gave to Owen as my mother once gave to me.

I didn’t have the unconditional impossibility I craved, and after she and I tried to have sex one last time a month after birth, I reopened wounds, and our love was lost forever. An incident in which my jealous rage over comments about the man she was texting told me she liked him, and I jumped on the bed and wrapped my arms around her and she began crying. She thought I was going to hit her. I was hugging her. I messaged her mother, and told her she was unhappy.

Before the birth, during the first three trimesters I was reading Emotional Alchemy, and books on trust. Ever fully engaged in my pathway to strengthening my emotional stability. It was too late. I was alone in our, now my Waterloo apartment. She brought Owen to her mothers. An hour away from me I traveled to see Owen with a pick-up truck for the first year of his life.

She left either because of my rage or because of a lack of love or both. This was not like Christina or Catherine, this involved my first born son, and has become in my mind a journey to a balanced to the acts of hate upon my being. She had a child with me full well knowing what I was like. I promised her I would work on my mental disorder. Owen is my sole reason to exist. My love for him is endless. I miss him. His presence has lessened. School and distance has brought me into a funk. When a man and woman conceive there genetic lineage are united. Our connection will never divide. Our pretentious love led to a creation of magnificence. I meditated for a year, working, meditating, writing, composing, and visiting Owen. I demanded it was in Owens best interest to see me half-time until he started school. Reluctantly she complied. After a year of meditation, work, and self-reflection I met Tanya.

Immediately she was light. A blossom in the winter. She was artistic, strong, intelligent, gorgeous, and interested in me. The first six months were perfect. I wasn’t insecure. I didn’t mind her plethora of male friends. At a point in the relationship when I felt her commitment (maybe to me or maybe to Owen), for the strangest reason jealousy was lit again. All my work the past year seemed like prattling. Triggers were happening everywhere. Distrust was a snow storm covering my poor vision. Again I was not being given the essential unconditional impossibility I once received from my mother. Was this my abandonment schema?

Tanya fell in love with Owen as people do when someone is lovable, and this love for him was a consistent reminder that if I created someone as beautiful as him, then I too was beautiful. Owen it appears to me was the reason to stay while my jealousy surged, and anger erupted. She endured two and a half years of it and finally put up the strong women boundary that all women can learn from. “Either you get help or I’m gone!”

With mental disorders meditation while living a life as a westerner does is insufficient to change habits. I went to a councilor for the second time in consecutive relationships trying to heal. The first councilor guided me to indulge in self-help material. The second brought me to Cognitive Behavioral Therapy. I obsessively uprooted jealousy and insecurity over the next year with CBT charts. Jealousy dropped from 95% highs to 35%, and lows of 4% which is a healthy normal level of rationalizing ones feelings about ones partners activities. CBT was the repair, but so was the will to find the woman strong enough to put up the boundary to her love, which is what my mother did when I was bad. In my mothers case it was a short time in my room, but with a partner its a love lost forever as was with Christina, and Hope. At least with Hope I have Owen. With Christina she brought me to awaken the demon. Hope brought me to search to exorcise it, and Tanya forced me to dig in and love it, and myself. A woman did repair me, or did they all contribute inadvertently?

To all the women and men in my life I am sorry for what I put you through, and I thank you for tolerating me as long as you did, you have all taught me how to work with mental illness a little better, but Tanya has significantly changed my life forever.

 

 

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Schizophrenia and Psychosis

Schizophrenia and Psychosis are two severe mental illnesses.

Schizophrenia Definition: When a person no longer sees reality the way it is. A schizophrenic hears voices and sees things that are not there. Someone with this mental illness loses reality, and becomes anti-social.

Psychosis Definition: A psychotic person acts aggressively with out remorse or shame.  Begins to see and think in delusions, hallucinations, and thinks in strange unrelatable  thought patterns.

These two illnesses are very similar, and one could almost say they are the same illness accept if you were a psychologist you would know that schizophrenia and psychosis have an outlying difference. A schizophrenic person does not completely lose logic. Where as a psychopath will use logic to benefit themselves when they see fit, even if its at the expense of another person or animals health and in some cases life.

Elyn Saks- Associate Dean and Orrin B. Evans Professor of Law, Psychology, and Psychiatry and the Behavioral Sciences at the University of Southern California Gould Law School.

I witnessed a TED talk of a woman with schizophrenia who struggled severely from this mental illness, and aimed direly at mental health. When she would attempt to live without pharmaceutical medication reality became different. As the speaker in this video titled ‘A tale of mental illness’, Elyn Saks tells a tale of tragedy which leads to perseverance and success. In the video she explains her journey. Elyn explains how she was in university, and had to work with questionable voices and hallucinations. She describes them as paralyzing, and maddening. She goes on to describe the severity of her condition, and finally she concludes its possible to function, and achieve as she has done.

Paul Bernardo

In contrast to the tale of Elyn Saks is the complicated insane case of Paul Bernardo. A true psychopath Mr. Bernardo was booked for raping 11 young woman after stalking them from bus stops in the metropolis of Toronto. He was also convicted of murdering two women. In this video with ‘Bernardo’ we can clearly see his manipulative motives to persuade the officers with a chillingly compelling strategy. You cannot tell he is psychopathic. He is social, and appears normal. Its common for psychopaths to appear social when it is necessary and a psychopath in prison is a psychopath always in need of being social. But it is common for psychopaths to be anti-social guiltless shameless humans.

It is possible to have both schizophrenia and psychosis simultaneously, but its recommended you don’t! Many psychologists struggle to highlight the causes for the two conditions. Interestingly enough, common in psychopaths, as it is in schizophrenia, is their experience with mental, physical, and sexual abuse from parents, relatives, and close family friends. It appears that psychosis is directly related and developed from repeated abuse of any kind in early child-hood development, but schizophrenia can be genetically triggered. “in Western uran society, the socialization of children is entrusted largely just to the parents, often to just a single parent, and if the parents are overburdened or incompetent or unsocialized themselves then even a child of average temperament may grow up with the antisocial tendencies of a psychopath. I use the term “sociopath” to refer to persons whose unsocialized character is due primarily to parental failures rather than to inherent peculiarities of temperament. On the other hand, the psychopath is almost certain to be a bad parent and the child who receives from a parent both an unsocialized environment and a hard-to-socialize temperament is doubly handicapped. ( Page 7 Handbook of Psychopathy).”

With these comparisons, we can conclude the two illnesses are far too different and they range in causes. It can be understood that people with schizophrenia and psychosis can live a functional life. Success relies on frequenting a doctor for schizophrenic and psychopathic medicine and mentoring.

 

 

 

 

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Depression and Obsession

Mental Health Depression

Mental Health: Depression

Depression Definition:

Depression is a mood disorder. Clinically diagnosed patients will experience negative emotional, behavioral, and physical symptoms. The suffering it causes upon the individual and the individuals family and friends are extreme. Please consult a doctor if you are showing signs of depression lasting longer than two weeks. The serious habitual damage it causes on the psyche deepens over time.

Symptoms of Depression:

Self hate leading to suicidal thoughts, excessive fatigue, lack of motivation, disinterest in physical and social activities, hopelessness, anger and anxiety etc.

Obsession Definition:

Fixation on a subject or an object.

Symptoms of Obsession

Repetitive uncontrollable thoughts, fixation on an idea, person, or object.

A common mental health disorder associated with obsession is Obsessive-Compulsive Disorder.

Depression and Obsession:

As I’ve recovered from manic, and seasonal depression, I’ve noticed the correlation of depression and obsession. Purely speculative and based on personal experience when I have given up on my obsessions I enter a state of depression.

My Obsessions:

I am highly attached and obsessed with health and wellness. Health to me is attributed to creative productivity, balanced interpersonal socialization, activity, and quality positive and neutral perspectives on situations and people (I am not saying I need to like everything people do or say, but an appropriate perspective is important).

When health and wellness is not fulfilled my equilibrium is distorted. If my equilibrium is distorted for enough time it becomes a mental health issue. It develops into habitual (behavioral) depression, in other words a form of habit obsession. Obsessing over the negative thoughts which lead to the symptoms listed above under Depression Symptoms.

My Depression:

Although it isn’t accurate to take ownership of the mental illness under discussion as the title indicates, for purpose of explanation it is ‘my depression’, and it is conducted as follows:

Socialization is a key disinterest when I am in this state. I’d rather sit and dwell on the negative graspable content passing by my conscience. I begin to see people under a microscope. As if I can predict their conversation topics and what they will say and conclude it pointless to take part. An angry reaction will up rise, and I will end up offending someone. Socializing is an important key to health, and acceptance of others contributions to a conversation is also important.

Physical Activity when in this state is not prioritized. It is all together not forgotten, but if I were to be physically active depression would have trouble developing.

Crappy Perspectives begin to develop in unison with the depressive symptoms. Lack of motivation ensues, and it is justified because in a depressive state you are not good enough and in my particular depression and obsession I am too good for this world. The paradox downward spirals until I am completely not good enough because at some point in the spiraling I realize the ego behind my thoughts.

With careful analysis of my symptoms and counseling there is no permanent cure for mental illness, but I’ve found ways of working with it. One is by realizing that habit leads to success or failure, and that obsessions lead to disappointment which lead to negative habits of depression. With positive mental habit training like used by meditation practitioners, one can work with any mental illness. It is hard work, but as I paraphrase Jack Kornfield “Mindfulness meditation is not an act of labor, but an act of love.”

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Phase Transition

I read in a book on Buddhism that the mind undergoes epiphanic phase transitions as your meditation practice deepens. Some practitioners call it a gap of consciousness, and it is also referred to as insight.

Although there are multiple names for it, a phase transition brings one closer to true happiness. It is a mental state of true contentment with the arising and ceasing of experience. With all the difficulties we drudge through, the tools learned in books on meditation from either an Indian or Tibetan perspective are a necessity. One way or another a person will use similar tools to keep composure as they hit boundaries, and press against inevitable trivialities.  A person who organically uses similar tools should know they can be strengthened and sharpened like a carpenters chisel. It dulls when used, and rusts when not. But the workmanship is finer and more pristine as it ages. This is why aged skill is so closely attributed to wisdom. This is because a meditation practitioner practices with the mind, and whittles away the habits of suffering.

For many generations the practice adopted and inherited by Chinese and Indian culture is the practice of awareness. Awareness of intent in our actions, of others actions, of where we’ve been before, and what we’ve done. A gentle reminder of a mantra-like phrase “I’ve been here before,” and then the flood of memories which follows and shows the correlation of the present, and past and what occurs because of the decision to proceed.

The act of familiarization by practicing in this way (with sitting meditation, mantra reminders, and mindfulness pauses), is like any discipline. The difference is that the practice of the many meditation techniques learned through study are for peace. Peace is the cessation of suffering. In other words, when ones practice is deepened not through ego but through humility and rationality, the mind is one of deep compassion for oneself and for others. This is not in the conceptual sense but a felt sense of inherent compassion in the body.

As a rudimentary practitioner, musician, author, and business owner, these techniques I use to prepare for the many failures, successes, and intra/interpersonal conflicts in my life. I believe they can help anyone balance their serotonin levels, and build concrete rational, realistic open mindedness for life in a North American multi-cultural society.

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The Escartment

Wilting seasonal scales of fear,

A provocative loosening of security,

I’m afraid of normalcy,

I do not want what is,

I’ve seen this landscape before,

Sometimes comforting but this week I’m nauseous,

I look to others for inspiration,

I find much the same verse as what I intend to relate,

And my chin sinks to my chest,

My eyes close,

Many thoughts of previous ignorance arise,

A wet substance runs the contours of my face,

And I think maybe this culture is a spoiled group,

I think this spoiled group is losing its spoils,

And I see this week as one spent alone,

Although there are people of beauty surrounding,

I am closed off to their joy

Because I want more than what I have,

But I have what I need.

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Winter Is Still Here

Is still, is cold where I live,

Is an unpredictable storm to endure,

It pushes me inside myself,

It brings extra tension where I’m from,

But it triggers mental toughness although obscure,

And it introduces spring scents sensing cure,

For the warming muddy earth I call my home,

For the storming season is a blurry hum,

For relief is desired from,

This winter that arises, and ceases,

Pronouncing our weaknesses,

But gives insight,

Awareness that teaches of turning tolerance into patience.

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What Change Triggers

Tranquil Winter Scene

If you look historically at the causation of seemingly minute experiences, you will find the compounding of each leads to illusive and shocking change.  Generally change triggers emotional fear disrupting our routines, and we become primed. Once primed the steam filled humidity of our perspective shifts, and we see red where blue is clearly apparent to the people we encounter in our lives. Loved ones and co-workers will undoubtedly notice your sharpness, and even more so they will react as the compounding of seemingly minute experiences begin to overflow. The plasmic and contagious emotional running of core substance is our own paradigm of change. It is the impermanence of routines that only become amplified by attachment to these routines.

In recent weeks many of my family members have begun their natural cycles of overflow, and they will have to accept the change which will come. As important as their lives are I must focus on my role. I must ease the suffering of the volcanic reshaping of our personalities because of our small and previously large traumas.  I must adapt. I must allow my natural recourse to flow out in whichever form (a few frustrating tears and or a moment of understanding). Some self pity will arise and also past reflection will interrelate the child trauma in me to the present trauma of my adult self. Yes I feel the jabs of my families pain. Sometimes I feel the punches of the world. But how should I transpire?

In moments of great unrest we are challenged to change with our micro-societies and evolve.

I must evolve as the turning of the times is too much a feeling of tightness in the gut which I call intuition, but what is it saying? This feeling tells me to flee or fight, yell or walk away in tears. It tells me to share my love or blast someone with abuse, and I make my choice with the black and white it has always provided. So where is the evolution in this feeling? It’s outside the feeling, and inside the observation of the feeling. Instead of being in the war, we can be aware and watch it as a compassionate parent does, and the evolution of humanity ensues. We become more and more of what we trust in our lives. We trust honesty, and honestly we know fighting has never solely solved any human beings problems.

In history we see such unrest in every era. We glorify the wars of our ancestors as a neccessary measure in fear of our loss of power. The loss of power which leads to loss of safety. I think many of us need to have one last war, which is the true war of peace, which is to allow the powerful to have power, and the compassionate to die for evolution. We can fight as Mohammad Gandhi did, with passivity, patience, and compassion. We can continue to teach the human children of earth the wisdom of observation. In it is the acceptance of change. That the people coming into Canada are much like our ancestors who  fled the unrest of powerful empires.

We are existing in the underlying truth that we want comfort not suffering. We want honesty, and a place to continue our ant hill of human societies. As a person who struggles with self-worth, and illusions of grandeur, I have such a fear of change that I notice it everyday. In recent weeks I’ve noticed such causation from the minute experiences I overlook. They are compounding over and over, and eventually will spill out like lava, and they have. I am sorry. But with the tools we used 185,000 years ago to open coconuts, we can crack open our hearts to accept inherent change because of the mind sciences. Change iscoming, and it will appear different than the last time it came. But it’s still too similar to deny, it is what change triggers. Change triggers unrest, but acceptance of change triggers peace.

I like to use the image of death. Someone is about to take from me the breathe I am entitled. They point their weapon at the highest probable centre to end my bodily functioning. I have an opportunity here in the moment before I die. I can notice the universe unraveling in the Big Bang of the gun, and the numbness of death coming over me like the shiver of heat that I once felt in a cafe where I spent some of my shortened days. But this is much more surreal. I cannot analyze or deduce the immeasurable emotion of the ending of consciousness.  I can see hate will not save me from the one life I have fading like the end of a song. In this case it is the world I was born. I no longer see the person pulling the trigger. I see the persons suffering which led to this. I see the world in which the person can be led to this. I see the world in which I was led to this, and in it is the acceptance that what is is not anymore. This is the ultimate acceptance of inherent change; the Buddhist noble truth which states ‘what is subject to arising is subject to ceasing’. I am that which is subject to arise, and now I am ceasing. I fade finally seeing in this never ending experience how much every decision I’ve made led me here. It’s not that I wouldnt have led myself to a another murderer or into different war to be shot, but I realize the suffering I’ve caused with each decision I’ve sent out through the wave of cause and effect the world of suffering. I was a perpetuating cause of this as is everyone. But I see that I didn’t have to be, and now I won’t be, as I fade into nothingness.

It is a profound image to focus on ones own death. But it is essential for the understanding of our effect in the world. As we individually decide to observe rather than partake we evolve. Because there is no other way to evolve other than to a more peaceful world, the opposite being what it was and still is, a world of irrational power struggles and devaluing of sentient life.