I WENT TO MY COMPULSORY DRUGS MEETING (if I don't go I get it in the neck off my Hitleresque drugs "worker") and despite the usual happening (a small collection of folks not nearly as long or as sorely addicted to drugs as me ~ even talk of needles leaves them out cold as they tend to cracksmokers and not junkies and so, in this "therapeutic" setting I must constantly check myself for what I say ~ very healthy) I decided to put out (for once again) exactly where I was coming from and how off I felt this past week and how it's called "depression" and comes in waves and comes back back back and predated my drug problem by over 15 years and how the Mental Health Operative seemed to think certain of my experiences denoted "bipolar" disorder rather than straight depression (though I really, in personal actuality, see depression as personal weakness and my more extreme experiences as evidence of spiritual warfare against me. Psychiatry is a religion just like Roman Catholicism with its own sacraments and "holy" grail. And personally I do not believe in it.)I don't feel too bad when I keep moving. But once I stop, the blankness and meaningless of nonexistence hits me hard to handle...
So now they're on to re-book my missed psychiatric "picking over my open-hinged sinister worm-a-wriggling-strewn brainbox with psychological chopsticks and soy sauce" session that I only heard about the day AFTER it was booked for me.
Like most religions and their pantheons and philosophies, the great gods of Psychiatry are after me to confirm and prove I'm an irredeemable nutter or (as experienced more normally these days) to devalue my current suffering and put it all down to drugs. Even though it all began more than fifteen years before I ever was into heroin. And ten years before I ever smoked a spliff or dropped acid.
In other words all is meaningless.
On Margate Sands
I can connect...
nothing with nothing...
as the poet said.* And that's about all I have to say....
"Cheer"-io folks...
*T S Eliot The Wasteland III "The Fire Sermon" 301 ...
Does anyone know anything about "la lingvo internacia ~ Esperanto~??"
Here's a filmclip, starring William Shatner, speaking in the international dialect ...
9 comments:
T.S. Eliot...great poet. The Lovesong of J. Alfred Prufrock has so many awesome blase lines.
4 Quartets for me:
Ash on an old man's sleeve
is all the ash burnt roses leave ...
I'm worried about you Gleds. :(
For the sake of the system, run through the mazes and running wheels so you can also receive the benefits you know you need. Persevere in reminding them that the heroin addiction is a symptom, not the cause of your issues. You have been self-medicating for a reason. It's really too bad that you may have been caught up in the wrong solution but you are in their hands now and are asking their help to find the right solution.
You are correct that psychiatry is NOT a science. They are guessing and supposing. Psychiatry has cured no one and has not even helped so very many. Don't give up on yourself.
Depression isn't a weakness, it's a disease like any other so don't be so down on having your brain chopsticked. It might even help! Oh Gleds, you've got some bad attitude there. And I don't believe for a minute you're an irredeemable nutter . . .It can't harm and might actually help!
You sound very like my brother talking, Gleds. In the end though, psychiatry did help him in that he learnt to recognise certain behaviours that would lead to more drug taking and was able to side step them. Cognitive therapy, not a bad thing in itself. However, anything like that is only as good as the practitioner, and there's the rub. How do you tell a good one from a bad one and what do you do if you get a bad one?
Depression is an illness, Gleds, don't be fooled. It's very real and can have devastating consequences on the sufferers and their families. There's no shame nowadays in saying one is depressed as it is a recognised condition and a lot can be done to help the depressive personality, if they allow it.
Good luck with your therapy, Gleds.
Bipolar is the flavor of the month in Psychiatric circles.
My sister after surviving chemo, leukemia and a drug they forced on her because they caught her crying, went to a psychiatrist and was diagnosed bipolar.
My daughter's friend was a cutter, once again diagnosed bipolar.
So you are too.
If I went that's what they'd tell me, I'm sure.
Janice~
here's how you speak esperanto:
http://www.esperanto-usa.org/posters/Affixes.pdf
Depression is not personal weakness buddy! U HANG IN THERE! STAY STRONG! Thinking of you here across the pond. I too suffer from bouts of it and my existence in this strange world/dimension, no one has it figured out, so do not feel alone. We're all f*cked in one way or another. Who is truly well-rounded?! It's baloney!
ESPERANTO is not the international dialect. Everyone knows it's English baby! LOL!
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