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Reflection from June 24th, 2011 @ Age 30

RE:  THE TRIAL & ERROR METHOD OF MENTAL-HEALTH RECOVERY, AND ITS CONCRETE MANIFESTATION WITHIN MY WRITING.

I will tell you one thing though, it really pissed me off that my psychologist told me my writing wasn’t genuine—or at least, not as genuine as it could have been.  Asshole.  No, not really I guess; I mean I appreciate that he gave me his opinion.  I do.  It just makes me angry because if I am not about truth and beauty, then what am I about at all?  But I know I can be less than genuine at times, just as we all can be.  I suppose that’s something I don’t necessarily like about myself—that I can be less than genuine.  But I suppose that’s just another “ugly” characteristic, almost like lying.  And we’re humans, and sometimes lying to ourselves or others is what we have to do — whether it’s necessary or not, sometimes it’s just what must be done.  And I too, am human.  And I too, lie and have lied and will lie in the future from time to time.  I am not always entirely genuine.  I hide too.  I shade my eyes, even knowingly, because I am not ready to see the truth.  But is there not value in portraying this struggle?  

My psychologist asked me where I was going with this “book” — he asked me, essentially, what the point was if not a happy ending.  Good question.  And I don’t have the answer to it, except to say, I do not necessarily believe that a “happy ending” in the traditional sense is what is needed or warranted in this situation.  I guess a happy message at the end, tra-la-la, life is wonderful now, I am perfect now, the medications work, the doctors help, tra-la-la…I guess that might help get through the rather depressing and disturbing parts of the book.  But I don’t know—I don’t think that is what I want.  I mean, it’s not that I want to depress people and make them feel uncomfortable for no purpose.  I suppose the answer is that, I have a purpose, and I don’t want to dilute it with a stupid sappy happy ending, which is totally predictable and somewhat lame.

Lame in the sense that my troubles and worries are not all over.  Things are not perfect now.  Yes, they’re better than they were.  That is absolutely true.  But nobody ever goes through life without struggle (is it really me who is saying this?).  So why should I portray that I take my medications and see my doctors and now my life is perfect?!  It’s not!

I still struggle with the medications, most notably because they make me numb and blah and boring.  I now understand better why people don’t want to take them.  I can see the benefit in not taking them now, to an extent.  I can see an even greater benefit in experimenting in dosages to allow for more feeling but to still keep my feet on the ground and my body above it.  I’m tired of feeling blah!  I’d been feeling absolutely, positively, horribly BLAH for like eight months before I talked to my psychiatrist who told me to take less of my mood stabilizer medication!  And it worked!  I can feel again!  And it’s wonderful!  I’m not going to give that up.  But where do the lines lie?  How do I tell when what I’m taking is not enough?  Even assuming I will be able to tell when I get to that point — will I have the ability then to bump my meds back up?  I don’t know.  It’s an ongoing struggle, not a happy end.

I guess maybe that’s the point too—is that I don’t want an end to this book.  I mean, obviously one book can’t just go on forever and ever.  It has to have a physical end.  But I’m not going to sit here and pretend that my life is better than anyone else’s.  I had struggles and I overcame some of them.  Some of them I still struggle with.  Some I don’t struggle with now, but will in the future.  I mean, there’s no end with which we can be happy or sad or mad or anything until death.  So why pretend there’s some happy end now?  Can people not be satisfied with continued struggle?  Will redemption over some struggles not be enough?  I don’t really even know where I am going with all of this—I really am just rambling to get my thoughts out of my head and clear my mind.  All I can tell you is that my appointment with my doctor, and what he had to tell me, was irritating.

I mean, of course I want people to receive my work well.  I want them to see the meaning and the value in it, and to appreciate it.  I want those things.  But I have to accept that everyone will not feel the same way.  Some will hate it, some will hate me because of it.  That just is what it is.  But there will be love too.  So is the hate worth finding the love?  Isn’t that just the never-ending question?  Is the risk of happiness worth the risk of failure?  I think so.  But we’ll see in the end.  If failure should come, will it destroy me?  Will it make me stronger and lead me ultimately to an even greater success?  I just can’t believe that there is any worth in fearing failure to such an extent that it makes dreams not worthwhile.  I don’t want to live my life that way.  

You just have to think about it this way (I think, and tell myself ;0) —

Anyone who has ever had a new idea has encountered people who say that’s a terrible idea!  Why they would say that could be for numerous reasons.  They may not be able to see past the unconventional aspects of it, they may fear that you will be hurt if you put it out there and people don’t respond positively to it, etc., etc.  I really don’t know.  But it’s only fear.  And the question is — do you want to live your life in fear of who you are, or do you want to be proud of who you are and show other people why you are beautiful just as is?  It’s just a no brainer.