Archive for category Mental Illness

Andrew Koenig – Rest in Peace

Andrew Koening, the child star of Growing Pains and son of Star Trek father Walter Koenig committed suicide today in Vancouver.  He was found in a park.  His father told the papers how many, many people have written in talking about their own depression.  Like an epidemic, it seems to infect perhaps billions on this beautiful planet of ours.  This nice-looking, 41 year old man who friends says was a deeply emotional and caring person, painfully decided he could take no more pain.   His parents were helpless to stop it, and apparently Andrew went on and off of his medication and was struggling to keep his head above water in the manic world of show business.

So who is to blame for this – A heartless world, so caught up in its own madness that one person’s needs are irrelevant?  His parents or friends?  Should they have done more, said more loving words?  Could any person have stopped him, or the million others who will kill themselves this year alone?  How can someone so full of life one minute, simply be gone the next?  It makes my heart break in two and I cry, even though I have never met him.  But I also smile and today will be a little brighter because I am still alive.  I still have blood running through me, love in my heart to give away, and the mind to write these words.

I will be with you one day, Brother.  “But not yet.  Not yet…”

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Freedom from Mental Illness and Beyond

Spiritual teachings and healthy living can have a strong positive affect on mental illness.  The labeling of bipolar and other terms like it is abused and overdone and instigates the “mentally ill mentality,” of believing everything one reads and hears.  “You will do this.  You will feel that.  When you do, take more pills.”  It is  a cycle that keeps true healing out and profits for drug companies in.  Where is the growth in this unending cycle?  How do people begin to heal and change when they are constantly told how sick they are and what new medication they should be taking.  We need a much larger definition for mental illness as well as open discussion of the reasons it manifests differently in people and why they become trapped in it without real change.  Too many doctors want to have a person visit for thirty minutes and then label them as BIPOLAR1 and break out the Lamitcal.  Drugs like that can have pretty serious side effects like skin rash and weight gain.

I went to a bipolar support group and honestly, the people were so doped up on meds they could hardly keep their eyes open during the meeting, let alone form an intelligent thought to share.  It frustrated me as everyone went around the group making comments that gave more and more power to bipolar and emotions – as if they both were some demon that was waiting to plague their lives.  I tried to share in the group how applying Eckhart Tolle’s teachings and changing my PERCEPTION has helped me to recognize emotions for what they are and arent, as well as calm down from my usual mania.   I have learned how to come out of myself and see my connection to other people and the world, not just  a whirlwind of emotions flying through my mind.  The group conversation always went back to a new medicine or how horrible everything is because we have bipolar and the world “doesn’t understand.”   Some of the group had that look in their eyes like they had given up long ago.  They talked about themselves as if having bipolar was their identity, and not in a good way – as if they were a victim, fighting this terrible beast.

I’m not disputing that mental illness is real.  I know it is real.   But we have much more power and choices that we realize.  Just to wake up one day and say to yourself, “I am going to send love out today to people I come in contact with” can have an amazing effect on your entire day.  You may feel fear or isolation initially, but keep doing it anyway and you may be shocked at the results.  Try feeling connected and see yourself as a part of all this crazy, wonderful beauty around us.  You may call it Buddhism, Christianity, or Taoism if you like.   The love and truth in all of them can begin to set y0u free.   If you don’t believe in God, I hope you can try to believe in love.   These words I write – mental illness, God, love, change, hope, are all ones that need to be redefined and expanded through our progress and discovery.

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Suicide to Revelation in a Day

I cut with screaming agony into the sacred temple and a child’s soul inside a man’s body.

Flesh.

The knife is dull doesn’t want to pierce the skin I close my eyes press harder digging in screaming into the mirror some last call of fear trying to hold me back the knife inside now I slice downward watching the blue veins cocoon to red drippings look in the mirror pinching harder trying to push blood out push life away the satanic voice of absolute fear digs the blade deeper no turning back now the warm fluid falls like wax onto the floor I run the tub with hot water lay back waiting to die looking at the tendons I slice through them like white strings I faintly smile knowing the pain is almost over thirty-one years of mistakes of living by fear of giving up too easily of cheating of lying of excess of laziness of shame of jealousy of just a little doubt in the promise of eternity and fuck it this life kicked my ass maybe there is a Heaven.

I’ll know soon enough…

But you wouldn’t take me, God. Why the fuck wouldn’t you take me?

Bare it out a day becomes a week and then a few more months my hand still healing but the wounds vanishing over time my broken spirit starting to feel hope again started out subtle and hard to explain but joy grew and love became all new and I gave a little life away and it started coming back a thousand fold my spirit finally saw the spirit of God’s goodness healing a wounded child a madman a defeated demon inside me still struggles to come out and sometimes he does and yet I want to give you something because I am still alive I am free yeah’ I breathe in the ocean air listen to the gulls and look in the eyes of my girl smiling she looks so beautiful and I started this new way of life I call art-form personality life love is an action yeah’ take it up a notch and throw the spirit of your “child inside” to the whirlwind of this madness watch it clarify your thought the extreme energy of the treasure of oneness and in the dreams of the creative the shattered remnants of this Earth the home we destroy decadence the place is dying they were right but hey can you change from the “inside out?” cause’ I’ve licked evil off my skin after it soaked me alive and I hope this gets through to just one of you, cause’  I was spared death and not in vain I must give something away to pay it back.

Some call it insanity or psychosis, others call it Bipolar disorder.  The label means little to me. It is simply the life I was given, the man and soul and mind that define me for better or worse.  I do not belong to this world and I stay in this life with my heart and passion shooting out to the starry night above.  We could go there together if you’d leave this painful place with me as the warm breeze catches all good dreams and brings them to life.  Time has no place here, not in God’s Kingdom.  There is no hiding and no decision left to be made, no regret and worry.  We are alive, together, forever and I know that the greatest things are yet to come. I say a prayer for all who will never know there is another way and smile in gratitude. 

 

ON A BEAUTIFUL DAY IN NORTH CAROLINA

The Angels are with me now. 

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Bipolar Rapid Cycling and the Joys of Christmas

I don’t know what happened.  Three days ago I was having my hair cut and excited about seeing my family in Tennessee on Christmas.  I was singing Goo Goo Dolls and sober and feeling, well, happy.   Then last night before driving back to Asheville the fucking goddamn insanity or darkness I don’t know the word anymore I guess “cycling down” will do- it began.  I didn’t talk during the family party.  I just grunted and barely ate and stared away.   They are all wondering “why the hell is not talking?”  I just sit on the couch, staring at the tv screen as my nephew plays video games.   So my dad died this day in 1980.  So what?  Get over it who gives a fuck?  You baby, you weak, pathetic person.

I can’t sleep.  My heart is racing.  I feel like giving up, like dying, if only to push out the voices and the things I see at night.  I call them “angels” but they won’t leave me alone.  They shoot energy through the air into my body, initially through my wounded and scarred left wrist.  I’m hesitant to write this but fuck, whatever.  I guess as long as I don’t hurt anyone they won’t lock me up.  I’m in no space today to be happy or write about hope and not giving up .  I dragged myself out of bed somehow, although I can’t sleep but I feel safe in the bed.

There is something happening to me that I can’t define.  It is beyond a textbook answer.  I went to a medical doctor and he had no clue.   I went to a Carmelite Priest and he had little to say.  I’ve been to Shamans and other types of healers.  One woman told me I perhaps was more blessed than I realize.  I hope she is right.  I don’t feel blessed today.  The lithium is doing nothing.  My doctor suggested Depakote and I’m sure that would knock me out to the point of being a zombie but a zombie may be a better choice.  The less I sleep the worse it gets – the fear and paranoia and darkness and shaking and God please, just make it stop.  I must have done something really horrible in the spirit world before returning this time.  Maybe I stole money from Apollo or took Zeus’s horse out without asking.  Whatever it was – fuck, how much is enough punishment?

CAN YOU HEAR ME GOD?    I’m not asking why anymore.   I’m still alive.  Please don’t leave me.

There’s that song playing.  And sometimes a song is enough to pull me back out into the land of the living and joyous.  Sometimes a Shakespeare line or a scene from a movie – even a good memory or a smell.

I’m waiting to come back.  It hurts too much to sit and wonder why.

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Bipolar Medicine free of charge by Eckhart Tolle’

I must say I’m puzzled. On the one hand if I say how much I love Eckhart Tolle’ and his work, it sounds like I’m just another “spiritual wannabe” American pitching Wayne W. Dyer or Deepak Chopra. I bring Eckhart up because I have read a LOT of writing on spiritual topics and technical literature on mental illness and bipolar and because of “this and that and they and imbalance and drugs and genetics and disease and Lithium and Lamitcal and the Bible and Kabballah and Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance” (what an amazing book!) and see my train of thought is leading back to this little German man living in Vancouver who has this wonderful little laugh and he looks a little Elfish and I just offer this now not as empirical truth – I may change my mind tomorrow but since I have little to gain here by pitching him to you but he has REALLY HELPED ME KEEP A LITTLE MORE SANE – or should I say… his ideas, his reminding me that I have another way of living to chose from. As he would say “you already know this. I’m just reminding you of what was already there.” It is okay not to be manic and rushing and angry and have your identity come purely from the world. Holy shit, glad we got that clear.
If you struggle from Rapid Thoughts/Compulsive Behavior/Suicidal Thoughts to the Point of Insanity/Neurosis and live your life chasing thoughts and emotion like some dragon you can’t quite ever tame, well, you may want to give a listen to Mr. Tolle’. I’ve checked out his audio c.d.’s from the Library which are the best cause’ he reads them off and it makes a big impact. I was skeptical and have become an eager listener. I know I sound like I’m about to offer a bonus c.d. if you order now with Tony Robbins on the side for only $19.95 but really, this is purely for the sake of passing on something good maybe it will work whether you have a “mental illness” or not.

All the Best…

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Delusions of Grandeur

My Mom told me that when she first saw Stonehenge she just knew she had been there before. I felt the same way about Biltmore Estate.

Not Biltmore perhaps, but I believe I was Royalty. I don’t think it. I can feel it. I was reincarnated from a Prince into this life of mediocrity. I see the rich and famous and tv and say “for hatred’s sake, I spit at thee…” Yes, I want wealth. Yes, a mansion. Yes, unlimited freedom to do what I want and whenever the fuck.

I’m in and out for the experience.  No lesson required.

Look at this place in that lovely picture. I was there in the tallest spire – sipping red wine and howling to the fuckin’ moon under Bavarian skies. The huge fire was glowing while my dogs sat next to it and we played a game of chess.

And I do believe I won…

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Bipolar Disorder, Being There, U2 and Happiness.

being-there

Life, is a state of mind...

A song is playing on the stereo (okay, it’s With or Without You) and Bono’s voice takes me over and back to 1987 we were dancing on Matthew’s deck a little drunk and our parents out of town I had a bit of hope flowin’ cause U2 was saying “And we scorch the Earth, set fire to the sky. And you steep so low, to reach so high…” (that one’s for you, Chang) I love you my brothers and sisters wherever you are whatever you’re doing I don’t forget – I will never forget.

I’m watching those beautiful flakes come down here in Asheville and listening to Sarah Brightman’s “Deliver Me.” Now she is an ANGEL on Earth. (Check out Sarah Brightman on Youtube)  She can almost break GLASS with her voice!

I am running free in the land of Paradise where they say the sun always shines but I say in Heaven a little bit of snow still exists because every “flake is a little bit different” and the scientists can’t answer why that is nor can they explain how there’s more information in one strand of DNA than all the computers in the world but I know why because God showed me in a dream and the snow keeps falling blanketing the land with that silent beauty the enrapture of time “standing still” let’s walk across the fields until the WARDROBE opens hey Mr. Lewis I feel you writing this cause’ your spirit is still with me in this land of confusion and I’m SO TIRED OF THE DOOM AND GLOOM of bipolar I don’t subscribe to the doctor’s point of view HAPPINESS is right there I see it in the falling snow in the children playing before all we cared about was money or THINGS or TIME or our fucking GOALS so I say this to all of you thinking if life is worth living please take it from someone who has cut life from themselves with a knife and God let me stay here for some reason.

IT IS WORTH IT – I promise you can find that happiness don’t you see it isn’t a place or a person or a thing but a SPIRIT that lives in you that made all those raindrops keep pouring down that made our Earth move around the sun (Thanks STING for that line I stole it) and just breathe in and MAKE A CHANGE cause’ I swear to God if you have BIPOLAR – you have more power than you think over this “disease.”   Why don’t we let God perform a miracle and step out of the way?

Thanks Mr. Sellers.  You are not forgotten.

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The Confusing Definition of Mental Illness

Hello and Welcome hope you are well.
If there’s one thing that needs to be said right now it is that everyone has a little mental illness in them, I believe. Like Eckhart Tolle’ says – “of course you’re insane. You live on Planet Earth.” and that’s paraphrasing of course. Too much of everything – a thousand things to stimulate us every minute. I can be walking on a beautiful day in the country and thinking “no madness here – I’ve escaped it” and then a truck of crazy rednecks pulls up and my God, they are so PISSED OFF! They don’t notice the pretty stream and could give a shit about the way the sun is setting on the trees cause’ deer-hunting season ends tomorrow and only six hours left to kill one. And they almost ran me over to kill those deer and I bet the driver hasn’t been diagnosed as insane although he’s drunk behind the wheel of a 5,320 lb. truck. But his actions ARE insane. They even screamed some obscenity at me because my shirt looks like what a “hippie” would wear, I guess.
“Get off the road, ya’ faggot.”
But really guys. I’m not gay.  I just write poetry and movies that don’t deal with explosions and kicking ass.

In another world we may have been friends, me and those guys in the truck. And I may have been friends with so many different people if this crazy culture hadn’t separated us so much.   All these things that divide us make me more “mentally ill” because I don’t understand it – it hurts me when the coldness is so obvious.  I don’t know why I don’t know my neighbors name and I live in these beautiful mountains and feel so cut off and that makes me crazier.

So, more later cause’ I’m going out it is a beautiful day in Asheville and the sun is FINALLY OUT!

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