Monday, 11 January 2010

Bags of Slop

All we are are bags of slop. But to our own species, we are beautiful. I doubt a fox, or a wolf would ever see us as beautiful. Remember your beauty, O homo sapiens, and whatever the female version of that term is or should be.

I'm lucky. I see beauty in grandmothers, grandfathers, all through the whole gamut of the type right down to the babe.

Beauty beauty beauty. The only time we see ugliness is when we haven't opened our eyes to the beauty that is there.

It's like a yoga stretch. You can't do it. You can't see it. Then the hips go urgh and the eyes go BING! and there it is.

There is NO POINT TO LIFE. That cannot be stressed strongly enough. The thing is to accept that and make the FUCKING BEST OF WHAT YOU HAVE BEEN GIVEN which is, of course, life.

Lust, love, adore, worship.

Do the fiery positive things.

Wait til the grave for the negative.

This is probably my last word on mental health on this blog. (Auditorium rises to feet and applauds while cat-calls ring from the roof).

But it's true.

A year ago, a year nearer to when I was diagnosed, I ran over frosty fields, feeling that I was mad (oh, I had no clothes on of course).

This year, well, last night, I did it again in the six inch snow, and didn't feel I was mad.

Now, does that make me more mad now, or more sane now? Answers on a postcard.

Look at the stars. Look at the universe. Get over yourselves. That's what I did a long time ago. I'm utterly insignificant. I know that and have known that for at least 30 years. It helps. I promise. Of course, you have to work out for yourselves how to survive when you know you are almost ALMOST (bigger bigger) AALLMMOOSSTT nothing. That's a personal thing. But the root of it is the recognition that this is all you get. So make the bloody most of it.

I sound like an old fart. So I'll stop.

All of yis, take care, Dx

7 comments:

Kate said...

First a question you don’t have to answer (consider it rhetorical): What led you to the sense that you were ‘mad’ in the first place (prior to your un-maddening) and did you have any recognition of this ‘condition’ before the mad-doctors pushed their poky, antiseptic fingers into you (leaving you to question your own behaviour and reason)?

To what extent is the ‘madness’ an outcome of institutionalism itself (labelling, confining, medicating etc.) and in so far as it is, how does one extricate oneself from and shrug off said manacles? You seem to be doing rather well.

What, pray tell, is the basic nature of madness, its essence, its ineffaceable reality – were it to have one? By society’s definition it’s a condition of error, disorder, alienation and hence subject, on the whole to shifting political and economic conditions. It’s possible that you are or were merely in the wrong place at the wrong time. After all, at one time or another or in some place or another, running naked in the snow would be considered a noble sport or an entirely sensible recreational activity with beneficial therapeutic outcomes.

It's not easy to maintain composure and reasonable conduct in a context that it largely insane (namely high capitalism with all its degradations, exclusions and mechanisms of control) – or monotonous, or cruel. To be questioning, or revolting, to sing, dance naked in the snow, to embrace love, rapture and the deliriums of the heart doesn’t sit comfortably in a society that would rather domesticate and dull us into sitting quietly in front of TV, watching other people hate and harm one another. That’s not right. That’s deranged.

I’m leaning towards thinking that de-maddening oneself is often less about making internal alterations and more a case of adapting the external environment to suit. So far as one can. However, I know (because I’ve lived similar) that this is far more effectively achieved in the rural sticks than it is on a densely populated council-estate in an urban conurbation (hence the preponderance of lunatics hailing from situations of depravation, over-crowding and economic-unproductively). The problem, to my mind, is - beyond a shadow of doubt – other people (not all of them but probably the vast majority of the morons that are deemed ‘sane’).

Also, acknowledging one's insignificance is a noble way to put the mind at rest. In the grand, echoing, infinite scheme of things, our inconsequential babble goes unheard. We’re a blip, a temporary smear on the eternal toilet paper of history. Our lives are over in a blink.
Only thing to do – learn to die with good grace (and enjoy the process).

Here endeth my anti-psychiatry rant (I think I ate some Foucault for breakfast and shat him out all over your blog. Sorry ‘bout that. I’d offer to help you clean up….)

I don’t think this is of much help with your enquiry. Neither does it fit on a postcard. :)

K.x

Kate said...

P.S It's really rude of me to keep writing comments longer than posts. I should write my own (posts) but for some reason, it's so much easier in a discursive context.
K.x

Kate said...

P.P.S For the sake of consistency and stretching-metaphors, I want to change that sentance in the penultimate(or so) paragraph to 'our lives are over in a flush'.

Although I'll go away now and stop pestering your blog. ;)
K.x

lettersfromexile said...

The argument for adapting one's environment to oneself is seen as arrogant. Who are you to step out of line? But if everyone adapted themselves to their environment nothing would ever change and nothing new would ever be created. That isn't the kind of thinking that got us the wheel.

David said...

Write as much as you like - it's a pleasure.

What led to it? A generalised disaster pertaining to the self - at the time being called 'mad' felt like the last of my troubles!

Of course, the invidious nature of the diagnosis only came into flower afterwards - you doubt everything for a while of course. (And the drugs that made me MORE psychotic certainly didn't help!)

Yes, arrogance or self-belief is important. (Of course, that is just 'grandiosity' in their book.)

Your paragraph here is so good I want to requote it in full:

"It's not easy to maintain composure and reasonable conduct in a context that it largely insane (namely high capitalism with all its degradations, exclusions and mechanisms of control) – or monotonous, or cruel. To be questioning, or revolting, to sing, dance naked in the snow, to embrace love, rapture and the deliriums of the heart doesn’t sit comfortably in a society that would rather domesticate and dull us into sitting quietly in front of TV, watching other people hate and harm one another. That’s not right. That’s deranged."

We're just people who have certain issues with our current and historical society. What the hell is wrong with that? :-)

Thanks both, take care Dx

werehorse said...

"To be sane in a mad time
is bad for the brain, worse
for the heart. The world
is a holy vision, had we clarity
to see it - " [Wendell Berry]

I am now in a mindjam, but you have said much that resonates with me

Scream said...

ugly bag of mostly water.