Friday, September 30, 2011
Monday, September 5, 2011
DEPRESSION
Days
go by slowly when you are moving about, but accomplishing absolutely nothing,
The vagueness of it all becomes a comfortable bed to lie in, Do not attempt to
struggle just move along from one moment to the next. Filling each with events of little or no
significant, cold or hot, wet or dry, dark or light, day or night the times are
as one. To look at one’s life like this is to get the impression of total
uselessness and utter frustration were it a possible feeling. But no feelings
are possible since there is a need to put forth some effort in order to be in
contact with them. Things are looked
forward to with no enthusiasm and once arrived at beheld with no wonderment.
One arises not because it’s time to accomplish some preset goal but rather to
do the expected. The expected can be what the person expects or thinks others
expect of the person. It is expected the person will go to work were the
mundane is common place. This person expects to make it through the day without
the necessarily a why; things just are.
If
another body happens to be lying in a shared bed upon arising it is noticed
with indifference. When one is not there no expectation for sex is felt and
that is fine. Eating is done for the sake of stopping the gas pains in the
stomach, but the excitement of different tastes is elusive.
Many
people pass before vacant eyes as one. Noticing only a certain few for a moment
they are then quickly forgotten. Things are done in a series of prerecorded
steps which never change. Showers, not baths, are done in ritualistic manner
like preparing for a sacrifice. Each day there is a sense that the person is
offering their body for sacrifice on the altar of insincerity which is relieved
daily without notice. The possibility is
that small parts which make the whole have died leaving an empty shell which
must wait until the correct chronological time to die comes.
There
are goals which are vague and somewhere ahead. There are so many that they run
together each looking for attention like several puppies might each wanting to
be petted. As a goal gains attention it
is followed until sidetracked, by some vague thought, then another takes its
place. In this way none are ever reached
and many reasons for ''why'' can be found. Career is a thing of the past and offers
an indefinite future. Others who pursue such an exacting mistress are mocked
with a knowing sneer. This mistress, like the spell drugs of addiction cast, is
difficult to become disentangled from once enchanted. Yet there are those who, through
circumstances, are thrown by the wayside never again to be in its company.
Strive as one might there is no regaining that particular bed ever again. Each
day is a long search for a way back into the arms which will never again
enfold. Soon the searcher becomes cynical and unfeeling. Of course this elusive
mistress is not the only one that has the ability to place you in living limbo.
Faded
memories of those who once arose passion, and then moved on, float daily
through his mind. Reflection is rejected and replaced with a guard so
impregnable even the one who created it cannot get through. So love is a memory stirred only by late show
movies which now seem trite where once they were the meaning of life. The magic
moment never comes, and happily ever after is the most hideous of jokes. New
people move in to positions created by memories and because they do not fit
pass from view. No remorse sets in any longer at the passing of those who were
briefly part of this so called life. Life denotes animation and involvement which
are things vaguely remembered when picture albums are reviewed with cold
squinting eyes. What is seen is registered only as points in time. The original
significant emotion reached to each lies deeply buried in the cemetery within a
mind guarded by never ending walls. The vicarious thrills of a movie or TV
program has no connection to life events and are as faded as clothes awaiting
cleaning in commercials.
His
eyes look deep into others unknowingly searching for the spark which may to
ignite spontaneity. There may be hope that a small glowing ember would again
kindle the flame of caring. This hope is not conscious but rather in a
catatonic state and if the ember by chance did come near it is doubtful it would
be recognized or responded to.
How
does one reach such a state?
THE WAY THINGS ARE...WHY?
When l returned to school, at the age
of forty, I was already ''older then dirt'' Most of the time I found myself
being asked for wisdom by younger classmates, In most classes there seemed to
be this belief that Carl had the answers, or should have them, or would get
them, I found some professors who would profess ultimate knowledge of why we,
each one of us, act/behave, think, feel, react, believe, etc., etc., the way we
do. Many exhibited various forms of distress at my seeming threat to their
leadership role after all I was only a ''student'' and a freshman at that. Many
of my young freshmen peer would sit taking notes imprinting the supposed
knowledge these professors would expound into their memory banks. It seemed to
me that the information speech had not been changed or updated in a very long
time. Each person seemed to believe, without question, the information given by
this all powerful giver of candle light.
One or two in the class would,
attempted to let sun light in by question using the ''why'' to the knowledge
givers, But, in order to receive the grade needed to pass, one did not question
beyond what was clearly acceptable to the professor, Slowly their individually
alike boxes were being formed about them; creativity stifled, The ideas passed
on in class after class offer views of how to correct the problems of
Twenty-first century humans based mostly on Nineteenth century ideas.
Expectations of how a person is to act were formed, according to what label is
applied. The label (diagnosis at times) does not insure recovery from a
particular dysfunction, and the label may perpetuate the prognosis.
Depression, as an example, may have
several epidemiological beginnings
yet the depressed person is, in order to be labeled (diagnosed) depressed, must
display certain behavioral criteria. Once an acceptable, to managed care
companies, diagnosis is made ''treatment'' can begin. Overtime these criteria
will either continue which will mean more treatment, or abate which will mean a
cure has been achieved. This is the basis for the medical model of wellness.
There is only one way a person can
get influenza and that is by being infected by the virus. If someone were to be
infected by an influenza virus they would be treated in a specific way. There
are not many cures for one particular disease. So each person who contracts an
influenza virus can expect to be treated the same way, Since mental Illness can
have many entomologic beginnings how can people with mental health problems all
be treated the same? Chemotherapy has replaced behavior therapy and
psychotherapy due to increased case load and cost of patient care. Warehousing
(mental institutions) was societies answer to giving rid of those that are
undesirable and cannot be boxed. This practice in effect for hundreds of years
ended in the nineteen seventies. Now we call them the ''Homeless'' and use bus
therapy on them.
These quick fix, band-aiding, of
those who suffer must be stopped and it is time to stop the oppression of those
who are different.
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