Actor Crush of the Day: Matthew Fox
I feel a sense of helplessness, against the scale of the disaster, the scope of what's needed, the desperateness of the situation, and the horrifying experiences that people are having to endure, who are in the midst of the aftermath.
I know it's natural to feel helpless when seeing such images of widespread destruction and suffering; the helplessness at the overwhelming power of nature. And so, knowing this, I am not drowning in it or sinking in it.
So many things have struck me, and entered into my heart in this national experience of disaster that I feel personally, as much as can be considering I was not touched physically by the Hurricane, but touched and deeply affected inside by what I feel as a citizen of this nation is an intense, sad, and desperate experience for all of us to see.
The volunteers, who are doing everything they can, and feel so helpless that they can't do more.
The 4 Navy ships on their way with food, fresh water, supplies, medicines, etc., that can't get there fast enough. The fierce and oh-so-urgent need for these things that the people NEED.
All the people who are still trapped in their attics, on their roofs, or other places.
The hospitals, where patients are or have been airlifted out, but in which alot of employees and their families are left behind in, as at least they aren't as urgently in need as those trapped in attics, or the SuperDome. I never thought I would see a day where people trapped in a hospital, surrounded by water, healthy though they all are, would be "a lesser priority". That in itself helps instill a sense of the scope of this destruction.
The SuperDome, where the air has become foul, sanitation facilities are overwhelmed, there is no food or water, the buses cannot get to because of the water surrounding it, the dome itself is open to the elements in places, and rival gang members inside are starting to cause trouble. Imagine the fear and desperateness and intense NEED that is present in such circumstances, and think even more upon any little ones, infirm, and/or elderly who may be trapped in such circumstances, or worse. The refugees need to be rescued from their refuge, and are to be bused to the Houston AstroDome, 350 miles away. It is the only thing big enough and close at hand in the area, as everything is so full of refugees already.
That word, itself, refugees, just seems so distant from anything I ever thought we, as Americans, would have to experience. I am not having to experience it myself, but I feel so much a sympathy and broken heart for those who are suffering in such a way. I guess perhaps it is arrogant to think that the word refugees is such a foreign concept, an alien one for Americans, but it is something that I am meditating on as to what this means for me, and others.
Again, I say, do not drown in the sense of despair, loss, helplessness, and even anger at some who knowingly stayed and "expected" to be rescued at the last minute. Rather, I am bouyed by the selflessness, spirit, courage, and tirelessness exhibited by the volunteers, and everyone involved in doing what they can as fast as they can to help everyone, not just in New Orleans, but in Biloxi, Gulf Port, and elsewhere.
It is discouraging to see nature's wrath vented so violently upon the places and people that our hearts are just aching for at this time. I pray that the strength of the volunteers will be reinforced and that the logistics involved in getting people out, and supplies in, will have their way smoothed and any barriers to such hopefully overcome as fast as possible, or removed.
I pray for those who have lost their lives, lost loved ones and friends, or are awaiting news from such that they are ok. I pray for those who must wait for that unfathomable news that their loved one did not make it.
I pray for all those displaced from their homes and businesses, and for those who have lost part, or all in most cases, of everything they had, who are now being rescued, or have been rescued, or are seeking or have found places of refuge.
I pray for those who have opened their hotels, facilities, and homes to those who have fled from the destruction, and I gain strength from the display of unity and human brotherhood that is being exemplified by those who are assisting in such a manner, and in other ways.
I pray for those who are looting, and for those who are looting because they feel they have, or may even have, no other way to protect themselves. For example, there was a lady caught by a news crew looting, from a shoe store I believe, and someone behind the view of the camera said, "You shouldn't be doing that." She responded, "I know, but if I don't, our feet will be cut by things beneath the water." Her, her family and the people with them had no shoes. I do not judge whether or not these people are right or wrong. It is not my place, and I can't even imagine being placed in a situation where that kind of choice would become necessary. And when it comes down to it, looting some shoes is perhaps the least of concerns, and the least of some of the horrible decisions and situations that are going on as a result of this disaster.
These things I watch, and learn from, and feel, and experience, at least in the small manner that I can, from the images that I see on the news. I know I cannot understand what it is like, but I rest myself in the hope that there is, that there can be; that hopefully as many lives can be saved, and people may find shelter, and that the Lord may be watching over and assisting in this huge effort of rescue, relief, and refuge.
Wednesday, August 31, 2005
Monday, August 29, 2005
Is what I am suffering from, real illnesses or not?
I have been told that they are, and biologically based. That it's a real, physical disease, like cancer or diabetes.
I would kind of liken my ability to function, to a cancer patient (a very survivable cancer, but with lots of rad/chemo etc therapies), who is going through chemo or some other debilitating treatment. Some days are good, some days or weeks are bad. And, sometimes, there are so many bad days or weeks in a month they cannot get anything done!
That is what it is like, in alot of ways, with my ability to function, or most often, NOT. Not very well.
If it is true that my illness is a real disease, as are cancer and diabetes, then that changes how others perceive or treat you. My illnesses being real diseases, isn't really the problem. Other people, even if they say they realize these things are real, physical illnesses, often-times treat you, when it comes to the ways in which you are not functioning or coping well with the ADL's, or Activities of Daily Life, as the doctors would put it, they seem to treat you kind of like it is all in your head, or that helping out in any manner that they wouldn't question to help out in for that hypothetical surviving cancer patient on chemo, who is having a really bad month.
The reality is, I would not ever feel as though I was entitled to certain help with daily activities or chores or whatnot; NEVER. But, when counseled by the Bishop to allow others the chance to serve, and be open to it, and when feeling prompted by the spirit to mention certain things (I do not, though, see being prompted by the spirit to = that they are obligated or expected or required to do it; I am open to the possibility that I am supposed to learn that certain things are not appropriate, or that I am supposed to learn something for my benefit from the exchange.), it is a bit confusing to sort out whether, in fact, I should behave as if my conditions are illnesses, or all in my head.
When I interact with others, in the mode of believing they are real illnesses, I tend to get some . . . you can't be serious reactions; some boy, she is really being . . . inappropriate? selfish? greedy? pathetic? lazy? out-of-bounds?
When I interact with others, in the mode of believing that all I need is more willpower to do these things I have so much difficulty with, or can't do at all, or only a few times a year, then they are much more comfortable and happy to interact with me, because they know I will not ask them anything or talk about my struggles coping with daily functioning, which would really take them out of their comfort zone, and would make them feel uncomfortable.
I am not trying to judge these people as bad, at all!! They are very kind women, and there are ways of doing certain things, and procedures, and all that, that I don't really know or understand.
I mention all of the above, to attempt to illustrate that even the best people, who acknowledge I am struggling with real illnesses, still have problems carrying that over into the way they handle things.
At the same time, to be VERY fair, they are not really sure at ALL how to handle interacting with me about my mental illnesses and what kind of help is appropriate, and what isn't. I understand that, because I do not know much about these illnesses myself yet, beyond the experiences I relate, but that I do not yet have a framework of knowledge with which to understand. So I understand this, and applaud them for being so kind, thoughtful, and understanding with me.
I felt strongly the need, though, to illustrate the struggle inside me as to the two perceptual ways, that affect ways of behaving, about my illnesses. I do NOT want to just sit back and say, I am disabled, so you people come help me. That is not me. At the same time, to come to accept that applying for disability was necessary, valid, and that I actually am disabled, in my ability to function, that it is not ME, but rather the illnesses that affect my abilities to cope with the world and everything in it, one has to come to a certain acknowledgement that you are struggling, and that it is NOT just about willpower.
I will go on at length probably, some other time, about accepting the need for Social Security Disability, and that I am, in fact, not able to work, or function well in even household matters, versus the need to always keep striving to improve (whilst not trying to improve more than little baby steps at a time (I love that movie, What About Bob!), work on things in therapy, and learn to function better. Therapy, and medication, is such a SLOW process though, it's gonna be a good long time before I'm "there". Wherever "there" is, but it's a desireable place, of higher functioning.
I hope I have not offended or hurt any of my friends. I was just trying to illustrate the different aspects of the problem floating around in my brain, and thought that the ideas I came up with would be illuminating for anyone trying to understand me, or the mentally ill, better.
I would kind of liken my ability to function, to a cancer patient (a very survivable cancer, but with lots of rad/chemo etc therapies), who is going through chemo or some other debilitating treatment. Some days are good, some days or weeks are bad. And, sometimes, there are so many bad days or weeks in a month they cannot get anything done!
That is what it is like, in alot of ways, with my ability to function, or most often, NOT. Not very well.
If it is true that my illness is a real disease, as are cancer and diabetes, then that changes how others perceive or treat you. My illnesses being real diseases, isn't really the problem. Other people, even if they say they realize these things are real, physical illnesses, often-times treat you, when it comes to the ways in which you are not functioning or coping well with the ADL's, or Activities of Daily Life, as the doctors would put it, they seem to treat you kind of like it is all in your head, or that helping out in any manner that they wouldn't question to help out in for that hypothetical surviving cancer patient on chemo, who is having a really bad month.
The reality is, I would not ever feel as though I was entitled to certain help with daily activities or chores or whatnot; NEVER. But, when counseled by the Bishop to allow others the chance to serve, and be open to it, and when feeling prompted by the spirit to mention certain things (I do not, though, see being prompted by the spirit to = that they are obligated or expected or required to do it; I am open to the possibility that I am supposed to learn that certain things are not appropriate, or that I am supposed to learn something for my benefit from the exchange.), it is a bit confusing to sort out whether, in fact, I should behave as if my conditions are illnesses, or all in my head.
When I interact with others, in the mode of believing they are real illnesses, I tend to get some . . . you can't be serious reactions; some boy, she is really being . . . inappropriate? selfish? greedy? pathetic? lazy? out-of-bounds?
When I interact with others, in the mode of believing that all I need is more willpower to do these things I have so much difficulty with, or can't do at all, or only a few times a year, then they are much more comfortable and happy to interact with me, because they know I will not ask them anything or talk about my struggles coping with daily functioning, which would really take them out of their comfort zone, and would make them feel uncomfortable.
I am not trying to judge these people as bad, at all!! They are very kind women, and there are ways of doing certain things, and procedures, and all that, that I don't really know or understand.
I mention all of the above, to attempt to illustrate that even the best people, who acknowledge I am struggling with real illnesses, still have problems carrying that over into the way they handle things.
At the same time, to be VERY fair, they are not really sure at ALL how to handle interacting with me about my mental illnesses and what kind of help is appropriate, and what isn't. I understand that, because I do not know much about these illnesses myself yet, beyond the experiences I relate, but that I do not yet have a framework of knowledge with which to understand. So I understand this, and applaud them for being so kind, thoughtful, and understanding with me.
I felt strongly the need, though, to illustrate the struggle inside me as to the two perceptual ways, that affect ways of behaving, about my illnesses. I do NOT want to just sit back and say, I am disabled, so you people come help me. That is not me. At the same time, to come to accept that applying for disability was necessary, valid, and that I actually am disabled, in my ability to function, that it is not ME, but rather the illnesses that affect my abilities to cope with the world and everything in it, one has to come to a certain acknowledgement that you are struggling, and that it is NOT just about willpower.
I will go on at length probably, some other time, about accepting the need for Social Security Disability, and that I am, in fact, not able to work, or function well in even household matters, versus the need to always keep striving to improve (whilst not trying to improve more than little baby steps at a time (I love that movie, What About Bob!), work on things in therapy, and learn to function better. Therapy, and medication, is such a SLOW process though, it's gonna be a good long time before I'm "there". Wherever "there" is, but it's a desireable place, of higher functioning.
I hope I have not offended or hurt any of my friends. I was just trying to illustrate the different aspects of the problem floating around in my brain, and thought that the ideas I came up with would be illuminating for anyone trying to understand me, or the mentally ill, better.
Often, in dealing with grief, you have to decide, what do you want to be?
Actor Crush of the Day: Bill Pullman (Independence Day or While You Were Sleeping)
(Note: My thoughts and prayers to anyone in Hurricane Katrina's path, or have already been through it. My hurricane allegory below is in no way meant to say that I am physically suffering in the way that those in hurricane regions are.)
This was a post on a blog I am linked to, Ethesis, and below was a comment I posted there about 2 1/2 weeks ago or so.
(Note: My thoughts and prayers to anyone in Hurricane Katrina's path, or have already been through it. My hurricane allegory below is in no way meant to say that I am physically suffering in the way that those in hurricane regions are.)
This was a post on a blog I am linked to, Ethesis, and below was a comment I posted there about 2 1/2 weeks ago or so.
This is a hard one. I haven't suffered the loss of a child or parent yet, and not to say that what I am about to talk about is in any way as deep or the same kind of thing, but I am going through a grief-like process as I begin therapy with a psychologist, and treatment from a psychiatrist, as I have been recently diagnosed with bipolar disorder and a variety of anxiety disorders, although they are still nailing those down, they are the working diagnoses at the moment.
I am 33 years old. And my daughter was recently diagnosed with high-functioning autism. And I can barely function, and somehow the Lord thinks I am the best mother for her? I actually do have faith in his faith in me, so that answers that question.
But having been mis-diagnosed with depression for so many years, I am grieving for the person I could have been. The chance at normal choices and normal experiences and a normal life that apparently I never had, because it seems that these things go back to childhood.
My very ability to choose, my judgement, is affected and swayed by my illnesses. Brain disorders, they call them. That could take me off into a whole other area of free agency/mentally ill and what all that means, but the point here is (and I have trouble being as concise and well-written as I used to be able to be, so bear with me), I have chosen to fight.
Though the struggle is hard, and I have no idea how to cope with my illnesses, let alone be able to mother my child and teach her and access services she needs, all I can do is try.
For me, it is though I am walking into the darkest hurricane you can imagine, facing it head on, and boldly striding towards the tempest, and knowing that all I can do is try. That is what I have chosen, as I have struggled this week with my own dark despair and whether or not to give up my option "to get out", as it were. I did, just so you know.
Sunday, August 28, 2005
An Excerpt From "An Unquiet Mind" by Kay Redfield Jamison
Actor Crush of the Day: Tom Selleck (Three Men & A Baby age)
The following I think to be a rather illustrative passage from this book, as it describes the sort of inner workings of my mind and certain types of behavior that really fit me, in certain manic states. The author is both bipolar and a psychologist, and her illness includes hallucinations and psychotic features, whereas mine does not. I am not comfortable with the term madness, as I do not experience those extreme features, but with that said, read the following:
The following I think to be a rather illustrative passage from this book, as it describes the sort of inner workings of my mind and certain types of behavior that really fit me, in certain manic states. The author is both bipolar and a psychologist, and her illness includes hallucinations and psychotic features, whereas mine does not. I am not comfortable with the term madness, as I do not experience those extreme features, but with that said, read the following:
My mind was beginning to have to scramble a bit to keep up with itself, as ideas were coming so fast that they intersected one another at every concievable angle. There was a neuronal pileup on the highways of my brain, and the more I tried to slow down my thinking the more I became aware that I couldn't. My enthusiasms were going into overdrive as well, although there often was some underlying thread of logic in what I was doing. One day, for example, I got into a frenzy of photocopying: I made thirty to forty copies of a poem by Edna St. Vincent Millay, an article about religion and psychosis from the American Journal of Psychiatry, and another article, "Why I Do Not Attend Case Conferences," written by a prominent psychologist who had elucidated all of the reasons why teaching rounds, when poorly conducted, are such a horrendous waste of time. All three of these articles seemed to me, quite suddenly, to have profound meaning and relevance for the clinical staff on the ward. So I passed them out to everyone I could.
What is interesting to me now is not that I did such a typically manic thing; rather, it's that there was some prescience and sense in those early days of incipient madness. The ward rounds were a complete waste of time, although the ward chief was less than appreciative of my pointing it out to everyone (and even less appreciative of my circulating the article to the entire staff).
Saturday, August 27, 2005
Medication Sucks; Or "Why I Regret Forgetting Last Night's Effexor Dose"
Actor Crush of the Day: George Clooney
Ugh. I'm tempted to just leave that one word as today's whole post, because it sums it up perfectly.
You know, alot of people think the mentally ill, especially bipolar and schizophrenics, are, quite frankly, stupid, for how often they end up deciding to stop take their medications.
Let me tell you, it is most certainly not cut and dried. Let me also reassure you that I intend on taking mine, although I am becoming weary of the side effects, and I'm not quite yet even on a mood stabilizer.
I am surprised that I am able to be so coherent in my current state, and would ask for your patience if I become less so.
I have never been drunk, but from seeing it in the popular media, I would describe what I am currently feeling like as being medium-lightly drunk, and horriblty hung-over, all at the same time.
I keep a sleeping mask on my eyes, and have to replace it if I'm without it for half an hour or so, as the light hurts my eyes.
My head is in MAJOR pain, but in a not normal-headache kind of way. Not migraine-like either, it's very different. And it feels like the whole inside of my head hurts, especially a spot a few inches down insude, about 3-4 inches up from the front hairline.
My head feels both light and heavy and the same time. As do my limbs.
I feel very clumsy, and rather detached and spacey. My sense of balance is way off, and I plan on spending most of the day horizontally resting. I have some concern that that may make my headache and balance worse, as it does when you oversleep way too much, but I'm rather ill so there we go.
Dinner for Emily will be either cereal or a zapped can of soup and some canned fruit, as that's about as far as I can manage. In that regard, it's similar to my worst days of low-functioning.
Not sure about eating, myself. I have eaten one thing, and it's staying down, so I guess we'll cautiously attempt something small later. But the prospect just does not appeal to me. It doesn't put me off much either, it's just not a concept that fits well with how I feel today.
I am tired in a really disconnected, kind of "woop-de-doo" kind of way.
I am not really describing it as effectively as I'd like, but then I'm surprised I'm able to form even somewhat-expressive sentences at all right now.
I didn't mean to really give a "travelogue" of my symptoms, but rather meant to illustrate some of the difficulties I face in the realm of medications and their side effects.
The horribly, realer-than-real, more-vivid-than-you-can-imagine series of nightmares and dreams I've had the last several nights in a row, and very frequently, increasingly so, over the last few months, are beginning to make me a bit leery of sleep. And, perhaps, causing me to feel lest rested, due to every sleeping moment becoming consumed in intensely-felt experiences. I am so weary of these. Although I do happen to like the occasional vivid REALLY HAPPY AND FUN dreams. Those are cool.
Anyway, i'm not even on what I think of as the heavy-hitting meds yet (mood stabilizers, and/or anti-psychotics (you don't have to be psychotic for the latter medicines to be of help; they are sometimes used for just depression, as well as bipolar without psychotic features, and a whole range of other things). And I am so tired of the side effects.
Just a picture into my world, so perhaps people might not be so judgemental of the mentally ill and their struggles with balancing medications.
Ugh. I'm tempted to just leave that one word as today's whole post, because it sums it up perfectly.
You know, alot of people think the mentally ill, especially bipolar and schizophrenics, are, quite frankly, stupid, for how often they end up deciding to stop take their medications.
Let me tell you, it is most certainly not cut and dried. Let me also reassure you that I intend on taking mine, although I am becoming weary of the side effects, and I'm not quite yet even on a mood stabilizer.
I am surprised that I am able to be so coherent in my current state, and would ask for your patience if I become less so.
I have never been drunk, but from seeing it in the popular media, I would describe what I am currently feeling like as being medium-lightly drunk, and horriblty hung-over, all at the same time.
I keep a sleeping mask on my eyes, and have to replace it if I'm without it for half an hour or so, as the light hurts my eyes.
My head is in MAJOR pain, but in a not normal-headache kind of way. Not migraine-like either, it's very different. And it feels like the whole inside of my head hurts, especially a spot a few inches down insude, about 3-4 inches up from the front hairline.
My head feels both light and heavy and the same time. As do my limbs.
I feel very clumsy, and rather detached and spacey. My sense of balance is way off, and I plan on spending most of the day horizontally resting. I have some concern that that may make my headache and balance worse, as it does when you oversleep way too much, but I'm rather ill so there we go.
Dinner for Emily will be either cereal or a zapped can of soup and some canned fruit, as that's about as far as I can manage. In that regard, it's similar to my worst days of low-functioning.
Not sure about eating, myself. I have eaten one thing, and it's staying down, so I guess we'll cautiously attempt something small later. But the prospect just does not appeal to me. It doesn't put me off much either, it's just not a concept that fits well with how I feel today.
I am tired in a really disconnected, kind of "woop-de-doo" kind of way.
I am not really describing it as effectively as I'd like, but then I'm surprised I'm able to form even somewhat-expressive sentences at all right now.
I didn't mean to really give a "travelogue" of my symptoms, but rather meant to illustrate some of the difficulties I face in the realm of medications and their side effects.
The horribly, realer-than-real, more-vivid-than-you-can-imagine series of nightmares and dreams I've had the last several nights in a row, and very frequently, increasingly so, over the last few months, are beginning to make me a bit leery of sleep. And, perhaps, causing me to feel lest rested, due to every sleeping moment becoming consumed in intensely-felt experiences. I am so weary of these. Although I do happen to like the occasional vivid REALLY HAPPY AND FUN dreams. Those are cool.
Anyway, i'm not even on what I think of as the heavy-hitting meds yet (mood stabilizers, and/or anti-psychotics (you don't have to be psychotic for the latter medicines to be of help; they are sometimes used for just depression, as well as bipolar without psychotic features, and a whole range of other things). And I am so tired of the side effects.
Just a picture into my world, so perhaps people might not be so judgemental of the mentally ill and their struggles with balancing medications.
Wednesday, August 24, 2005
Whatever Happened To Galoshes?
Actor Crush of the Day: Michael Rosenbaum
With the start of school, my mind has drifted back to some of my earliest school memories.
I believe I was in Kindergarten, and I remember vividly a fall field trip to an apple orchard and pumpkin patch. It had rained the day before or so, or that morning, and so we all pulled our galoshes on over our shoes.
My pair was robin's egg blue, with Winnie the Pooh on the sides. I don't know why I remember these galoshes so vividly, but I remember absolutely loving them, and clomping around in them with childish glee. My imagination was sparked and captivated by them somehow, and I believe at times that I pretended they were moon boots, and that I was traipsing across the lunar landscape in them, Winnie the Pooh and all.
I wistfully remember that field trip, and meandering throughout the fruitfully scented breeze in the orchard, the fall freshness in the air, with patches of sunlight dappling the ground beneath the trees. I hopped myself and my proudly worn galoshes into a puddle or two, but was quickly discouraged from further mischief by the Kindergarten Teacher, Mrs. Matthews.
I do not remember if the pumpkin patch was next to the orchard or if we took a short bus hop to get there, but I remember seeing a whole "mess of pumpkins" tumbled about the area, and marveling at the sight of so many in one place. I remember thinking, and almost smelling the delightful scent as I pondered, that my dad could turn all those pumpkins into a year's worth of pies! I then considered all the yummy possibilities inherent in the quantity of pumpkin seeds that the field contained, as we had enjoyed a delectable preparation of them earlier in the week in class.
I do not remember much more about that day, but the sights, smells, sounds, and tastes, particularly of the fresh, crisp apples we were presented, remain with me to this day. And, of course, the rubberly smell and sensation of wonder I associated with my fondly remembered Winnie the Pooh galoshes.
With the start of school, my mind has drifted back to some of my earliest school memories.
I believe I was in Kindergarten, and I remember vividly a fall field trip to an apple orchard and pumpkin patch. It had rained the day before or so, or that morning, and so we all pulled our galoshes on over our shoes.
My pair was robin's egg blue, with Winnie the Pooh on the sides. I don't know why I remember these galoshes so vividly, but I remember absolutely loving them, and clomping around in them with childish glee. My imagination was sparked and captivated by them somehow, and I believe at times that I pretended they were moon boots, and that I was traipsing across the lunar landscape in them, Winnie the Pooh and all.
I wistfully remember that field trip, and meandering throughout the fruitfully scented breeze in the orchard, the fall freshness in the air, with patches of sunlight dappling the ground beneath the trees. I hopped myself and my proudly worn galoshes into a puddle or two, but was quickly discouraged from further mischief by the Kindergarten Teacher, Mrs. Matthews.
I do not remember if the pumpkin patch was next to the orchard or if we took a short bus hop to get there, but I remember seeing a whole "mess of pumpkins" tumbled about the area, and marveling at the sight of so many in one place. I remember thinking, and almost smelling the delightful scent as I pondered, that my dad could turn all those pumpkins into a year's worth of pies! I then considered all the yummy possibilities inherent in the quantity of pumpkin seeds that the field contained, as we had enjoyed a delectable preparation of them earlier in the week in class.
I do not remember much more about that day, but the sights, smells, sounds, and tastes, particularly of the fresh, crisp apples we were presented, remain with me to this day. And, of course, the rubberly smell and sensation of wonder I associated with my fondly remembered Winnie the Pooh galoshes.
Saturday, August 20, 2005
Mental Illness Myths
Actor Crush of the Day: Liam Neeson
Strawberry Recipe Subcategory: Condiments (Sauces, Toppings, Salsas, etc.)
Updated Monday 8/22: A link to Adobe slideshows of Rick Hawk's presentations on Mental Illness, including the BYU Education Week 2005 talk referenced in the below article.
The following is a REALLY GOOD article on mental illness, and myths about it. Even if you aren't LDS, it is a good read. Please, please read it, even if you don't think you know anyone with mental illness. Chances are that you DO and you just don't know it. If you can avoid buying into these myths, it would be of GREAT benefit to those of us who are mentally ill.
I have copied the article in entirety from the Desert News site (I'm not sure if that's allowed or not, but I'm giving them full credit.) I will also be linking there.
Mental illness isn't a sin, expert tells crowd at Y.
By Carrie A. Moore
Deseret Morning News
Latter-day Saints with limited knowledge about mental illness can add to the pain of those who suffer when they ascribe to several common myths.
Rick Hawks, a psychologist and member of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, told an audience gathered Thursday at Brigham Young University that he has received criticism in the past for characterizations that some church members' insensitivity adds to the pain of those with mental disorders and their family members.
In a lecture titled "Mental Illness: How Latter-day Saints Shoot Their Wounded," was one of hundreds of presentations offered during the annual Education Week at BYU, drawing tens of thousands of people to the Provo campus. Classes concluded on Friday.
Hawks dismissed what he said are commonly held myths about the mentally ill and their families.
The first, that "if you keep the commandments, you won't have mental illness," reinforces an ancient but false belief that spirituality inoculates people against mental disorders, which in reality are physical illnesses like cancer and diabetes.
The myth goes hand in hand with the idea that "all emotional difficulties have to do with personal sin." Yet the truth is that no one is immune, including church and community leaders, he said, noting former LDS Church President Harold B. Lee suffered from depression.
"Praying, fasting, reading the scriptures and good parenting are all important, but they don't treat mental illness."
The second myth is that those who suffer simply need a "priesthood blessing" to restore proper mental function. Complex mental disorders require consultation with professionals, proper medication and lifestyle changes, he said, quoting top LDS leaders who have advocated such treatment in public settings.
While church leaders are often helpful with problems of the soul, such spiritual "shepherds are not veterinarians," he said, quoting Elder Vaughn Featherstone. Some need to realize that, Hawks said, noting he was once in a church meeting where an LDS stake president told the congregation from the pulpit that if they were taking Prozac, they should stop doing so.
Sometime later, after Hawks approached the stake president about what he'd said, the leader told Hawks he learned a hard lesson about the consequences of his advice when he later visited a woman with clinical depression who had followed his counsel, stopped taking her medication and was planning to take her life within hours.
A third myth says that seeking professional help "is a sign of weakness." Instead, such attitudes tend to be generated by fear and ignorance, he said. "Some believe that no one who is right with the Lord has a nervous breakdown or needs medication."
Such beliefs complicate treatment because it's often difficult to convince the mentally ill to acknowledge there is a problem, let alone to seek help for it, he said. "God doesn't need a psychiatrist, but sometimes his Saints do."
Some believe that medication is bad, he said, invoking a cultural concern that too many Latter-day Saints take Prozac for minor problems that should be handled by other means. Yet statistically, Hawks said, for every LDS congregation of several hundred, approximately 24 would be predicted to need medication for mental illness.
Other myths include the "easy belief" that the mentally ill simply lack willpower or they are psychotic, severely impaired and have nothing to offer. Yet the majority of those who suffer some type of mental illness and are being properly treated are successful in their professions. Many are community leaders including doctors, attorneys, dentists and businesspeople. "They simply are not 'less than' you or me."
Co-presenter Jack Marshall, an instructor at the University of Utah's LDS Institute of Religion, said he and his family have experienced some of the pain associated with the myths surrounding mental illness. After his son committed suicide, many friends and fellow church members gathered to offer comfort, but one in particular stayed away.
When asked later why, she said if she had experienced such a loss, she would want others to "leave me alone," possibly in part because of the stigma attached to his death.
Yet "the love and time and attention and caring" of so many around them "made such a difference to us." The family has felt much the same way about those who have been sensitive to their daughter's struggle with mental illness.
He suggested that friends and family "remind them of their own goodness, encourage them away from self-incrimination and praise them for their efforts."
Strawberry Recipe Subcategory: Condiments (Sauces, Toppings, Salsas, etc.)
Updated Monday 8/22: A link to Adobe slideshows of Rick Hawk's presentations on Mental Illness, including the BYU Education Week 2005 talk referenced in the below article.
The following is a REALLY GOOD article on mental illness, and myths about it. Even if you aren't LDS, it is a good read. Please, please read it, even if you don't think you know anyone with mental illness. Chances are that you DO and you just don't know it. If you can avoid buying into these myths, it would be of GREAT benefit to those of us who are mentally ill.
I have copied the article in entirety from the Desert News site (I'm not sure if that's allowed or not, but I'm giving them full credit.) I will also be linking there.
Mental illness isn't a sin, expert tells crowd at Y.
By Carrie A. Moore
Deseret Morning News
Latter-day Saints with limited knowledge about mental illness can add to the pain of those who suffer when they ascribe to several common myths.
Rick Hawks, a psychologist and member of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, told an audience gathered Thursday at Brigham Young University that he has received criticism in the past for characterizations that some church members' insensitivity adds to the pain of those with mental disorders and their family members.
In a lecture titled "Mental Illness: How Latter-day Saints Shoot Their Wounded," was one of hundreds of presentations offered during the annual Education Week at BYU, drawing tens of thousands of people to the Provo campus. Classes concluded on Friday.
Hawks dismissed what he said are commonly held myths about the mentally ill and their families.
The first, that "if you keep the commandments, you won't have mental illness," reinforces an ancient but false belief that spirituality inoculates people against mental disorders, which in reality are physical illnesses like cancer and diabetes.
The myth goes hand in hand with the idea that "all emotional difficulties have to do with personal sin." Yet the truth is that no one is immune, including church and community leaders, he said, noting former LDS Church President Harold B. Lee suffered from depression.
"Praying, fasting, reading the scriptures and good parenting are all important, but they don't treat mental illness."
The second myth is that those who suffer simply need a "priesthood blessing" to restore proper mental function. Complex mental disorders require consultation with professionals, proper medication and lifestyle changes, he said, quoting top LDS leaders who have advocated such treatment in public settings.
While church leaders are often helpful with problems of the soul, such spiritual "shepherds are not veterinarians," he said, quoting Elder Vaughn Featherstone. Some need to realize that, Hawks said, noting he was once in a church meeting where an LDS stake president told the congregation from the pulpit that if they were taking Prozac, they should stop doing so.
Sometime later, after Hawks approached the stake president about what he'd said, the leader told Hawks he learned a hard lesson about the consequences of his advice when he later visited a woman with clinical depression who had followed his counsel, stopped taking her medication and was planning to take her life within hours.
A third myth says that seeking professional help "is a sign of weakness." Instead, such attitudes tend to be generated by fear and ignorance, he said. "Some believe that no one who is right with the Lord has a nervous breakdown or needs medication."
Such beliefs complicate treatment because it's often difficult to convince the mentally ill to acknowledge there is a problem, let alone to seek help for it, he said. "God doesn't need a psychiatrist, but sometimes his Saints do."
Some believe that medication is bad, he said, invoking a cultural concern that too many Latter-day Saints take Prozac for minor problems that should be handled by other means. Yet statistically, Hawks said, for every LDS congregation of several hundred, approximately 24 would be predicted to need medication for mental illness.
Other myths include the "easy belief" that the mentally ill simply lack willpower or they are psychotic, severely impaired and have nothing to offer. Yet the majority of those who suffer some type of mental illness and are being properly treated are successful in their professions. Many are community leaders including doctors, attorneys, dentists and businesspeople. "They simply are not 'less than' you or me."
Co-presenter Jack Marshall, an instructor at the University of Utah's LDS Institute of Religion, said he and his family have experienced some of the pain associated with the myths surrounding mental illness. After his son committed suicide, many friends and fellow church members gathered to offer comfort, but one in particular stayed away.
When asked later why, she said if she had experienced such a loss, she would want others to "leave me alone," possibly in part because of the stigma attached to his death.
Yet "the love and time and attention and caring" of so many around them "made such a difference to us." The family has felt much the same way about those who have been sensitive to their daughter's struggle with mental illness.
He suggested that friends and family "remind them of their own goodness, encourage them away from self-incrimination and praise them for their efforts."
Thursday, August 18, 2005
Television Gore & Do You Like Your Voice Poll
Actor Crush of the Day: Bruce Willis
Strawberry Recipe Subcategory: Uses Gelatin/Jello
Interesting article regarding Hollywood and TV, Movies, and DVDs and which one, surprisingly, is the best source of income for Hollywood, and why.
http://www.slate.com/id/2124078/?GT1=6772
One would hope this trend would result in more quality product, with a wider variety of subjects, and less gore-for-gore's sake, or less let's-see-the-grossest-ways-we-can-mutilate-a-human-body attitudes I've seen in recent years.
I understand, to a point, some of it, on shows such as ER, but in recent years even they seem to be throwing stuff in just to show that they can; it doesn't have a point or purpose beyond shock value, anymore, it seems.
You know, writers and producers, that you can tell a story, even one with murder mysteries or forensics, that does not have to show us every bloody, pulsating, realistic-as-possible-let's-show-them-a-dead-body-with-the-brain-completely-exposed-for-the-helluvit, permutation of violence and gore.
Really, there are some GOOD shows that restrain themselves. They show just up until a certain edge of content, and either imply or describe the rest. Sometimes NOT seeing it all, or NOT hearing all of a disturbing encounter, can be a much more effective cinematic and dramatic point or effect, than showing some of the disgusting crap I've seen on shows that I've now put on probation.
If they go over the line again like I feel they have, I'll quit watching them. Shows that usually don't show too much, but every now again feel like doing so just to shock us? Well, I for one feel that seeing something that makes me want to throw up is NOT entertainment.
On a completely different unrelated issue, I have found that lately, in conversations I've had with family, friends, and mental health professionals, I have discovered that I am not nearly the only one who dislikes my own voice. It seems as though alot of people do, and this surprises me, so I thought I'd do an informal poll regarding this issue.
Do you:
A. Hate the sound of your own voice (Don't necessarily obsess about it, but really don't like it.)
B. Rather dislike your voice, but only think about it when listening to it taped, et al.
C. Mild discomfort with the sound of your voice but you don't really care that much.
D. Don't particularly like or dislike it.
E. Somewhat like the sound of your voice.
F. You like your voice, and perhaps have been complimented on it.
G. Really like the sound of your voice. (Not in a vain way, but you happen to have a pretty voice, especially nice for narrating, performing in plays, and/or singing.)
For me, it's A. Ugh! And listening to the tapes of my sessions with the psychologist, is uncomfortable for me because of this issue, as well as the nature and depth of the things I am discussing.
Strawberry Recipe Subcategory: Uses Gelatin/Jello
Interesting article regarding Hollywood and TV, Movies, and DVDs and which one, surprisingly, is the best source of income for Hollywood, and why.
http://www.slate.com/id/2124078/?GT1=6772
One would hope this trend would result in more quality product, with a wider variety of subjects, and less gore-for-gore's sake, or less let's-see-the-grossest-ways-we-can-mutilate-a-human-body attitudes I've seen in recent years.
I understand, to a point, some of it, on shows such as ER, but in recent years even they seem to be throwing stuff in just to show that they can; it doesn't have a point or purpose beyond shock value, anymore, it seems.
You know, writers and producers, that you can tell a story, even one with murder mysteries or forensics, that does not have to show us every bloody, pulsating, realistic-as-possible-let's-show-them-a-dead-body-with-the-brain-completely-exposed-for-the-helluvit, permutation of violence and gore.
Really, there are some GOOD shows that restrain themselves. They show just up until a certain edge of content, and either imply or describe the rest. Sometimes NOT seeing it all, or NOT hearing all of a disturbing encounter, can be a much more effective cinematic and dramatic point or effect, than showing some of the disgusting crap I've seen on shows that I've now put on probation.
If they go over the line again like I feel they have, I'll quit watching them. Shows that usually don't show too much, but every now again feel like doing so just to shock us? Well, I for one feel that seeing something that makes me want to throw up is NOT entertainment.
On a completely different unrelated issue, I have found that lately, in conversations I've had with family, friends, and mental health professionals, I have discovered that I am not nearly the only one who dislikes my own voice. It seems as though alot of people do, and this surprises me, so I thought I'd do an informal poll regarding this issue.
Do you:
A. Hate the sound of your own voice (Don't necessarily obsess about it, but really don't like it.)
B. Rather dislike your voice, but only think about it when listening to it taped, et al.
C. Mild discomfort with the sound of your voice but you don't really care that much.
D. Don't particularly like or dislike it.
E. Somewhat like the sound of your voice.
F. You like your voice, and perhaps have been complimented on it.
G. Really like the sound of your voice. (Not in a vain way, but you happen to have a pretty voice, especially nice for narrating, performing in plays, and/or singing.)
For me, it's A. Ugh! And listening to the tapes of my sessions with the psychologist, is uncomfortable for me because of this issue, as well as the nature and depth of the things I am discussing.
Wednesday, August 17, 2005
Embrace Your Inner Gonzo!
Actor Crush of the Day: Elvis Presley, the moderately young years (pre-spangled jumpsuit) Strawberry Recipe Subcategory of the Day: Beverages & Soups
Today's Actor of the Day is in honor of the anniversary of Elvis Presley's death.
Today's appointment with Dr. Mower went well, I think. I am a bit mortified about one interaction we had, but other than that I felt I was able to articulate well and freely without (much) fear, some difficult things. Due to some of the things I was going to talk about, I sensed early in the appointment that my anxiety cycle was winding upwards exponentially and quickly, so I took a small dose of Xanax to interrupt the cycle.
I felt kind of shaky, upon arriving home after the appointment. Sometimes, I'm discovering, as therapy goes on, I have physical reactions to the emotional work I am doing, or the type of things I am discussing, or the depth of emotion and thoughts that I am revealing. It's a bit disconcerting, to have physical reactions for what seems like no reason at all, but I'm trying to take it in stride, listen to my body and respond however it needs, and just relax and not worry about it too much.
And so, I spent some time today just resting in bed, as I frequently do. I later recovered from my shakiness and felt a bit recharged, although as the evening wears on, I feel perhaps that my mood is elevating somewhat too far, for no particular reason. So, beware my sense of humor and incipient silliness, because mania tends to bring those out. Particularly the lower manias.
Actually, the reason may be, that I am so pleased with myself, and proud of the things I accomplished, therapy-wise, and emotionally, in the last week, that that may be the trigger for my rise in mood. It's a valid reason to be happy, and there is nothing wrong with it. But, whereas non-mentally ill people have, say, a string attached to their "balloon" of happiness, and it thus naturally comes to rest at an appropriate level, my string either stretches too far, or is too long, or even is non-existent at times, and thus my "balloon" soars to exuberant and giddy levels.
What I feel like, at this very moment, is proclaiming to the world that, "It is time to embrace your inner Gonzo!" (Elevated moods also produce more impulsivity than usual, although I am impulsive even when not elevated.) Silly, I know. Now, the psychologist told me, that you cannot hate yourself into health, and that I need to learn to accept myself. I am working on it, and making some progress, but these moods I get in where I accept everything about myself with no question in an ecstatic, over-enthused way, are not the more permanent, stable, healthy way of self-acceptance that he is talking about. It is pretty much the ebullience of mania that drives this intense coloring of my world in emotional hues of vivid brightness, blocking from view the realities that lie beneath.
Picture, if you will, a section of town that has fallen into a state of decay and disrepair. Picture also, that it is starting to be invested in, and worked on; renewed, and cared about by the community and neighbors around it, and the residents within. So you begin to see repairs made, the riddance of discarded items from yards and alleys, and the slow and scattered return of strips of flowers beside the front walk to someone's door, or flowerboxes along the front sills of freshly-curtained windows. There is still decay and disrepair, and dangerous elements present, but there is hope, and change in the wind.
A nice and hopeful picture, is it not? This is how I am feeling after 2 months of therapy.
Now, along comes the community director, who has free reign to do or change whatever he likes to the place. He decides that it would be nice if everything was painted bright purple, with lemon yellow polka dots, and that there will be a constant parade, and free Krispy Kreme doughnuts for all.
Now, the neighborhood looks and feels much different, and the whole world looks and feels much different, but nothing has, in actuality, changed at all. It has no meaning, and no depth to it, but it carries you along on the enthusiasm and passion of the community director's vision, and of course the sugar high from all those free Krispy Kreme doughnuts . . . .
This is by no means a perfect analogy, but it does, in some aspects, describe what it can be like at some times, in some types of my elevated moods. Course, I don't actually GET free Krispy Kreme doughnuts, and that is the sad part of this tale . . . .
If I could have any Krispy Kreme right now, it would be the Cream (or is it Kreme) filled ones. It isn't vanilla flavored, but rather it is like an airy-puffy, but not marshmallowy, white, delectable, not too dense, sweet but not too sweet, center of an equally delicious pillow-ily (yup, I make up words) textured and delightfully filled doughnut.
Still, the urge to embrace my inner Gonzo is not a bad one, just because it springs from an exuberant mood. And, in fact, it may bring me a bit of a giggle, during those lower times, to remember this ringing motto. At least, it's currently resounding through my soul like the pealing of a city's worth of bells on New Year's Eve.
If any of you are still with me, at this point, I salute you, and would propose a toast to your patience (and hopefully expanded understanding of my current mania) with a Kreme-Filled Krispy Kreme doughnut, if only I had one.
Today's Actor of the Day is in honor of the anniversary of Elvis Presley's death.
Today's appointment with Dr. Mower went well, I think. I am a bit mortified about one interaction we had, but other than that I felt I was able to articulate well and freely without (much) fear, some difficult things. Due to some of the things I was going to talk about, I sensed early in the appointment that my anxiety cycle was winding upwards exponentially and quickly, so I took a small dose of Xanax to interrupt the cycle.
I felt kind of shaky, upon arriving home after the appointment. Sometimes, I'm discovering, as therapy goes on, I have physical reactions to the emotional work I am doing, or the type of things I am discussing, or the depth of emotion and thoughts that I am revealing. It's a bit disconcerting, to have physical reactions for what seems like no reason at all, but I'm trying to take it in stride, listen to my body and respond however it needs, and just relax and not worry about it too much.
And so, I spent some time today just resting in bed, as I frequently do. I later recovered from my shakiness and felt a bit recharged, although as the evening wears on, I feel perhaps that my mood is elevating somewhat too far, for no particular reason. So, beware my sense of humor and incipient silliness, because mania tends to bring those out. Particularly the lower manias.
Actually, the reason may be, that I am so pleased with myself, and proud of the things I accomplished, therapy-wise, and emotionally, in the last week, that that may be the trigger for my rise in mood. It's a valid reason to be happy, and there is nothing wrong with it. But, whereas non-mentally ill people have, say, a string attached to their "balloon" of happiness, and it thus naturally comes to rest at an appropriate level, my string either stretches too far, or is too long, or even is non-existent at times, and thus my "balloon" soars to exuberant and giddy levels.
What I feel like, at this very moment, is proclaiming to the world that, "It is time to embrace your inner Gonzo!" (Elevated moods also produce more impulsivity than usual, although I am impulsive even when not elevated.) Silly, I know. Now, the psychologist told me, that you cannot hate yourself into health, and that I need to learn to accept myself. I am working on it, and making some progress, but these moods I get in where I accept everything about myself with no question in an ecstatic, over-enthused way, are not the more permanent, stable, healthy way of self-acceptance that he is talking about. It is pretty much the ebullience of mania that drives this intense coloring of my world in emotional hues of vivid brightness, blocking from view the realities that lie beneath.
Picture, if you will, a section of town that has fallen into a state of decay and disrepair. Picture also, that it is starting to be invested in, and worked on; renewed, and cared about by the community and neighbors around it, and the residents within. So you begin to see repairs made, the riddance of discarded items from yards and alleys, and the slow and scattered return of strips of flowers beside the front walk to someone's door, or flowerboxes along the front sills of freshly-curtained windows. There is still decay and disrepair, and dangerous elements present, but there is hope, and change in the wind.
A nice and hopeful picture, is it not? This is how I am feeling after 2 months of therapy.
Now, along comes the community director, who has free reign to do or change whatever he likes to the place. He decides that it would be nice if everything was painted bright purple, with lemon yellow polka dots, and that there will be a constant parade, and free Krispy Kreme doughnuts for all.
Now, the neighborhood looks and feels much different, and the whole world looks and feels much different, but nothing has, in actuality, changed at all. It has no meaning, and no depth to it, but it carries you along on the enthusiasm and passion of the community director's vision, and of course the sugar high from all those free Krispy Kreme doughnuts . . . .
This is by no means a perfect analogy, but it does, in some aspects, describe what it can be like at some times, in some types of my elevated moods. Course, I don't actually GET free Krispy Kreme doughnuts, and that is the sad part of this tale . . . .
If I could have any Krispy Kreme right now, it would be the Cream (or is it Kreme) filled ones. It isn't vanilla flavored, but rather it is like an airy-puffy, but not marshmallowy, white, delectable, not too dense, sweet but not too sweet, center of an equally delicious pillow-ily (yup, I make up words) textured and delightfully filled doughnut.
Still, the urge to embrace my inner Gonzo is not a bad one, just because it springs from an exuberant mood. And, in fact, it may bring me a bit of a giggle, during those lower times, to remember this ringing motto. At least, it's currently resounding through my soul like the pealing of a city's worth of bells on New Year's Eve.
If any of you are still with me, at this point, I salute you, and would propose a toast to your patience (and hopefully expanded understanding of my current mania) with a Kreme-Filled Krispy Kreme doughnut, if only I had one.
Tuesday, August 16, 2005
What Muppet Are You - Mine is Right on the Money . . .
Actor Crush of the Day: Matthew McConaugheyStrawberry Recipe Subcategory of the Day: No-Bake Desserts
I saw the link for this quiz on my BIL Bryan's blog site. (See link on right.)
Gonzo!
You scored 26 Mood and 34 Energy!
You are eccentric and often feel somewhat removed from your peer group. You are loveable and sensitive, but sometimes suffer from bouts of depression and existential angst.
You are eccentric and often feel somewhat removed from your peer group. You are loveable and sensitive, but sometimes suffer from bouts of depression and existential angst.
Sunday, August 14, 2005
Tom Cruise and his Idiotic Views on Psychiatry/Psychology
Actor Crush of the Day: Pierce Brosnan
The Depression and Bipolar Support Alliance has gathered some information together on one page, that concerns Tom Cruise's pathetic, desperate, and disconnected from reality arguments, and even manner of arguing, about his negative views of the mental health field.
Please click through, and read through the transcript of his interview with Matt Lauer of The Today Show. It seemed to me, that he is so out of touch with what is real that he himself perhaps is in need of some mental help . . . not because of his beliefs, but you can see it in the way and manner in which he conducts himself, argues, and refuses to address certain things or listen to opposing views. He doesn't have to agree with them but he won't even let Matt spit them out. As well, he seems to ridicule his interviewer, among others . . . .
http://www.dbsalliance.org/CruiseResponse1.html
Following the link to the interview, are a few other links, such as Brooke Shields' response, and DBSA's response, as well as a survey that I took about what I thought. During the course of that survey, I typed out what I would say to Mr. Cruise, and I thought that I would also make that the subject and content of today's posting. Below is what I typed in that survey, as to what I would say to Mr. Cruise.
Let me know what you think about all this.
Dear Mr. Cruise,
You say there is no such thing as a chemical imbalance in the brain or body? What do you think diabetes is . . . it's an imbalance - not having enough of the chemical insulin, among other factors.
As complicated as the human body is, the human brain is even more so, to the point that a lot less is understood about it, and treating it, than is understood about the rest of the body. Even so, much has been learned, and will continue to be learned.
You "believe" in the illnesses that can occur in the body, such as cancer, diabetes, hypothyroidism (lack of enough of a particular chemical the thyroid is supposed to secrete, or in other words, a CHEMICAL IMBALANCE). And yet, you think something as supremely complicated and of more complex functioning than any other bodily system or organ, among humans or animals, cannot have illnesses aside from vascular, trauma, tumors, et. al?
You are saying, in fact, in this world in which NOTHING is perfect, in which EVERYTHING develops flaws or defects or decays over time, which is the very nature of time and biology, that in fact the brain, and its structure all the way down to the molecular level, and the extremely complex array of chemicals that the proper functioning of the brain depends on, that this aspect of human biology/chemistry functions perfectly? And always has, and always will?
You, sir, are an idiot. There are, of course, many areas of medicine, both of the body, and of the mind, that are open to debate. But to say that there is no such thing as a chemical imbalance in the brain, that you do not "believe" in any such thing, is akin to saying you are driving full speed towards a cliff, but that cliffs do not exist. Or that you yourself may not be driving towards that cliff, but you believe that anyone who thinks they are driving towards that cliff, should do so with the gas pedal locked to the floor, and no brake or steering wheel with which to turn away.
You are, in fact, not only an idiot, sir, but a dangerous one, because you are encouraging people to pursue a course that WILL, if they truly believe you, eventually cause the death of someone who trusts your word over that of trained professionals. You are basically saying YOU ARE QUALIFIED to tell a mentally ill person to ignore their doctors, and not take their medicines. You are telling someone who already has impaired judgement and reasoning abilities due to the illness or illnesses they are suffering from, to ignore the judgement of people who have studied for many, many years; the judgement of people who are TRAINED to help them.
You, sir, are a dangerous idiot, because you say you know the history of psychiatry. You know nothing but what books and papers and articles you personally have read, with your personally biased point of view coloring everything you have read.
You are in no way qualified, SIR, and I use that term loosely, to tell anyone what they should do medically, or mentally, for their health or otherwise. What degree, have you earned, in the medical or mental health field? TELL ME THIS.
See me in ten years, Mr. Cruise, when you have earned a degree, and done an internship (and hopefully not ruined any lives in the process of "practicing" medicine as you work towards your Ph.D.), and I will listen to you. I may not agree with you, but I will listen.
Until then, Mr. Cruise, you are a quack, practicing medicine without a license, based on however many hours (100? 200? 10? 50?) that you have read journals, studies, books, et. al on the subject, probably most of which have been slanted in the direction you wanted to see.
You only see what you want to see.
See me in ten years. Until then, I hope and pray that no mentally ill person dies because they listened to you and believed you.
The Depression and Bipolar Support Alliance has gathered some information together on one page, that concerns Tom Cruise's pathetic, desperate, and disconnected from reality arguments, and even manner of arguing, about his negative views of the mental health field.
Please click through, and read through the transcript of his interview with Matt Lauer of The Today Show. It seemed to me, that he is so out of touch with what is real that he himself perhaps is in need of some mental help . . . not because of his beliefs, but you can see it in the way and manner in which he conducts himself, argues, and refuses to address certain things or listen to opposing views. He doesn't have to agree with them but he won't even let Matt spit them out. As well, he seems to ridicule his interviewer, among others . . . .
http://www.dbsalliance.org/CruiseResponse1.html
Following the link to the interview, are a few other links, such as Brooke Shields' response, and DBSA's response, as well as a survey that I took about what I thought. During the course of that survey, I typed out what I would say to Mr. Cruise, and I thought that I would also make that the subject and content of today's posting. Below is what I typed in that survey, as to what I would say to Mr. Cruise.
Let me know what you think about all this.
Dear Mr. Cruise,
You say there is no such thing as a chemical imbalance in the brain or body? What do you think diabetes is . . . it's an imbalance - not having enough of the chemical insulin, among other factors.
As complicated as the human body is, the human brain is even more so, to the point that a lot less is understood about it, and treating it, than is understood about the rest of the body. Even so, much has been learned, and will continue to be learned.
You "believe" in the illnesses that can occur in the body, such as cancer, diabetes, hypothyroidism (lack of enough of a particular chemical the thyroid is supposed to secrete, or in other words, a CHEMICAL IMBALANCE). And yet, you think something as supremely complicated and of more complex functioning than any other bodily system or organ, among humans or animals, cannot have illnesses aside from vascular, trauma, tumors, et. al?
You are saying, in fact, in this world in which NOTHING is perfect, in which EVERYTHING develops flaws or defects or decays over time, which is the very nature of time and biology, that in fact the brain, and its structure all the way down to the molecular level, and the extremely complex array of chemicals that the proper functioning of the brain depends on, that this aspect of human biology/chemistry functions perfectly? And always has, and always will?
You, sir, are an idiot. There are, of course, many areas of medicine, both of the body, and of the mind, that are open to debate. But to say that there is no such thing as a chemical imbalance in the brain, that you do not "believe" in any such thing, is akin to saying you are driving full speed towards a cliff, but that cliffs do not exist. Or that you yourself may not be driving towards that cliff, but you believe that anyone who thinks they are driving towards that cliff, should do so with the gas pedal locked to the floor, and no brake or steering wheel with which to turn away.
You are, in fact, not only an idiot, sir, but a dangerous one, because you are encouraging people to pursue a course that WILL, if they truly believe you, eventually cause the death of someone who trusts your word over that of trained professionals. You are basically saying YOU ARE QUALIFIED to tell a mentally ill person to ignore their doctors, and not take their medicines. You are telling someone who already has impaired judgement and reasoning abilities due to the illness or illnesses they are suffering from, to ignore the judgement of people who have studied for many, many years; the judgement of people who are TRAINED to help them.
You, sir, are a dangerous idiot, because you say you know the history of psychiatry. You know nothing but what books and papers and articles you personally have read, with your personally biased point of view coloring everything you have read.
You are in no way qualified, SIR, and I use that term loosely, to tell anyone what they should do medically, or mentally, for their health or otherwise. What degree, have you earned, in the medical or mental health field? TELL ME THIS.
See me in ten years, Mr. Cruise, when you have earned a degree, and done an internship (and hopefully not ruined any lives in the process of "practicing" medicine as you work towards your Ph.D.), and I will listen to you. I may not agree with you, but I will listen.
Until then, Mr. Cruise, you are a quack, practicing medicine without a license, based on however many hours (100? 200? 10? 50?) that you have read journals, studies, books, et. al on the subject, probably most of which have been slanted in the direction you wanted to see.
You only see what you want to see.
See me in ten years. Until then, I hope and pray that no mentally ill person dies because they listened to you and believed you.
Saturday, August 13, 2005
And my downward spiral begins . . . . (may be difficult to read)
For some reason, weekends are really difficult for me. Perhaps it's just that my cycling tends to coincide with the weekends, or is even perhaps triggered by them. Various events, people, things, emotions, or just about anything, can trigger a manic or downward swing. They often happen without triggers as well. For example, one of my triggers is being around critical people. People who seem to be always judging me or always have some way of putting me down, ready as a response to anything I say, without even having to think about it. Apparently, most bipolar people cannot handle or deal with critical/judgemental people very well at all.
I feel so alone. So crushingly, desperately isolated. You know that saying, "No man is an island."? Well, in my case I feel like Rapa Nui, Easter Island, the place that is the furthest-most point from any other piece of land on Earth. And no one knows or cares that I am here. If the person who said no man is an island, couldn't SEE that island, because it was so isolated, then his phrase is meaningless. I am an island, and I am that most isolated island of islands. This is a piece of how it feels, to be entering the darkness that is my life, and my illness.
Even if someone tells me they care, if I don't receive repeated reassurances as time goes on that they do, it fades away. It isn't that I don't believe them, but the thought patterns that go along with these things I am trying to endure, tend to swallow them and overwhelm any caring I receive, if it goes away and doesn't return.
My illness is not my life, but it feels as though my life is my illness(es), because they affect everything I do and think. They blanket and swallow everything, it feels like. It is difficult to know who you are, when your feelings are swayed so far, or even caused by, an illness or three.
I do, from time to time, make use of a Crisis Hotline up here in Davis County. Rest assured that I will continue to do so, as I feel necessary, when feeling so battered by the storm that is my soul, or rather, the storm that FEELS like my soul but is actually these illnesses and all the damage they have caused me over the years, that I do not know how I can continue.
Still, it hurts so badly that I feel like I only have strangers for emotional support. I only have strangers for some brief kind of wierd "friendship" whilst I am connected to them emotionally over the phone, during whatever pain I am enduring. "Strangers" being the professionals on the Crisis Hotline, and the psychologist and psychiatrist that I see. I understand that professional help has its place, and that there are things that are just too heavy or critical for family or friends to deal with. And I regret that I have, in the last week, discussed one of those heavy things that I do with both Becky and my MIL, and I will attempt to keep any reoccurrences of such things to the psychologist and hotline, as it is too much of a burden to impose on them.
But those aside, I go through so much pain, and feel so desperately alone, and knowing that I have no one to turn to, no one who looks forward to seeing me, or is excited to come visit me or be with me, aside from my husband, sends me into the really dark desperateness and soul-wrenching despair that is unfathomably difficult to describe. The depth of pain, horror, abandonment, rejection, isolation, self-loathing, hopelessness, and other things that I drown beneath is beyond anything I can describe.
To know that I behave in ways that I know are annoying, needy, lonely, pathetic, at times hyper, overtalkative, overly silly and goofy, and other things, and that I cannot turn it off no matter how hard I have tried for 30 years, and that people judge me for these things even though I cannot help it, as they are aspects of the illnesses I have, and that they don't want me or want to hear me or want to be with me because of them, is just so overwhelmingly, excruiciatingly crushing that I have extreme difficulty bearing up beneath this burden. This burden of being myself, and how unacceptable that is.
I hope, by expressing these thoughts and feelings, that I have opened up a window into my struggles and illnesses and experiences, that will perhaps bring you towards a little bit more of an understanding of the mentally ill, and maybe, for those who know me, towards a little bit more of an understanding and acceptance of me and my bipolarness and anxiety disorders.
I will see you tomorrow, and thank you for listening.
I feel so alone. So crushingly, desperately isolated. You know that saying, "No man is an island."? Well, in my case I feel like Rapa Nui, Easter Island, the place that is the furthest-most point from any other piece of land on Earth. And no one knows or cares that I am here. If the person who said no man is an island, couldn't SEE that island, because it was so isolated, then his phrase is meaningless. I am an island, and I am that most isolated island of islands. This is a piece of how it feels, to be entering the darkness that is my life, and my illness.
Even if someone tells me they care, if I don't receive repeated reassurances as time goes on that they do, it fades away. It isn't that I don't believe them, but the thought patterns that go along with these things I am trying to endure, tend to swallow them and overwhelm any caring I receive, if it goes away and doesn't return.
My illness is not my life, but it feels as though my life is my illness(es), because they affect everything I do and think. They blanket and swallow everything, it feels like. It is difficult to know who you are, when your feelings are swayed so far, or even caused by, an illness or three.
I do, from time to time, make use of a Crisis Hotline up here in Davis County. Rest assured that I will continue to do so, as I feel necessary, when feeling so battered by the storm that is my soul, or rather, the storm that FEELS like my soul but is actually these illnesses and all the damage they have caused me over the years, that I do not know how I can continue.
Still, it hurts so badly that I feel like I only have strangers for emotional support. I only have strangers for some brief kind of wierd "friendship" whilst I am connected to them emotionally over the phone, during whatever pain I am enduring. "Strangers" being the professionals on the Crisis Hotline, and the psychologist and psychiatrist that I see. I understand that professional help has its place, and that there are things that are just too heavy or critical for family or friends to deal with. And I regret that I have, in the last week, discussed one of those heavy things that I do with both Becky and my MIL, and I will attempt to keep any reoccurrences of such things to the psychologist and hotline, as it is too much of a burden to impose on them.
But those aside, I go through so much pain, and feel so desperately alone, and knowing that I have no one to turn to, no one who looks forward to seeing me, or is excited to come visit me or be with me, aside from my husband, sends me into the really dark desperateness and soul-wrenching despair that is unfathomably difficult to describe. The depth of pain, horror, abandonment, rejection, isolation, self-loathing, hopelessness, and other things that I drown beneath is beyond anything I can describe.
To know that I behave in ways that I know are annoying, needy, lonely, pathetic, at times hyper, overtalkative, overly silly and goofy, and other things, and that I cannot turn it off no matter how hard I have tried for 30 years, and that people judge me for these things even though I cannot help it, as they are aspects of the illnesses I have, and that they don't want me or want to hear me or want to be with me because of them, is just so overwhelmingly, excruiciatingly crushing that I have extreme difficulty bearing up beneath this burden. This burden of being myself, and how unacceptable that is.
I hope, by expressing these thoughts and feelings, that I have opened up a window into my struggles and illnesses and experiences, that will perhaps bring you towards a little bit more of an understanding of the mentally ill, and maybe, for those who know me, towards a little bit more of an understanding and acceptance of me and my bipolarness and anxiety disorders.
I will see you tomorrow, and thank you for listening.
Friday, August 12, 2005
Perseid Meteor Shower 2005
We saw some really good ones! The large, bright ones with the thick trails that sail across the sky. We stayed up until around 1:30, and in that last half hour we saw all but one of the really good ones that we saw for the evening. It wasn't quite as spectacular as the year before, but in some ways I think it was better, as I saw more of them, as I am "refining" my sky-scanning technique! Nothing to refine really, but it was a fun time.
Thursday, August 11, 2005
Bountiful/Davis Arts Center International Summerfest 2005
Wow. We just returned from 90 minutes at this folk arts and dance festival at the Bountiful park. We got in free because we got there before four, but it's only $4 I believe anyway. I am sad to have missed the Indian (from India) dance, as I had seen the dancers arriving in Bountiful a few days before, and the manner of dress they were in! To call their dress, costumes, would be like calling a butterfly a bug. Their beautifully detailed ethnic dress, even from the 20 yards away from them that I was, were so breathtaking and cultural and evocative of visions of exoticness and their foreign land, that I was just transported away by the beauty of it.
We caught about 10 minutes of the dancers from Hungary, and then a while later a Ph.D. and his wife I believe got up on stage and performed a variety of Iranian, Turkish, Afghani, and other music of the region. It was absolutely beautiful! Some of it a little haunting, but it was mostly upbeat things, some of which really had me tapping my feet. It is fun to hear and experience the cultures of other lands, and their folk music and styles.
Emily got up and danced to pretty much all of it, hopping and dancing and whirling and various moves that she does, whenever she is moved by the music she hears. And this music certainly moved her to dance! The players on stage noticed her, particularly the lady, and she commented from time to time, saying things like, "We have a whirling dervish over there!"
There was one Afghani dance, that they played, that is a bit like musical chairs, except without the chairs. Everybody dances, and when they stop the music you freeze, and anyone who doesn't or stumbles because they stopped in an unbalanced position, is "out". They invited people up onto the stage, and specifically noted that Emily had been having a marvelous time dancing and that she should come up on stage and dance to this music! I believe it may be called the Logari, but I'm not sure.
So, she and I headed up there, as I was concerned about her being anxious by herself or not understanding the instructions. I felt I needed to be with her to help explain it in a way she'd understand, but she did fine. We danced, and froze in place when the music stopped. It was a blast.
I was very nervous to go up there, but feeling that Emily might have need of me gave me the courage. And she was so good at it! Freezing right when the music stopped, and sometimes balanced on just one foot! The lady musician thought that was very tricky of Emily, to be able to keep her balance on one foot as that was her position when the music stopped.
We didn't win, although the musicians felt I called Emily before she had stumbled or not stopped fast enough. My anxieties though kind of made me, as I had already stumbled myself awhile before and was already "out".
Definitely out of my comfort zone today, and I may have looked the fool up on stage, although Scott reassures me that I did not. So it was a great experience, and fun to be a part of something from the other side of the world.
Emily asked the musicians for a CD and they gladly gave her one, so we can listen to this music again! And she can dance her little heart out.
We bought Emily a little handmade flute on the way out, and I hope that my head can stand it.
We couldn't stay for Opening Ceremonies, including the Parade of Nations, with all the various dance troupes showing themselves, as we are headed out to my MIL's tonight to stay over and watch the meteor shower tonight, clouds permitting.
I wish I had had my camera with me today!
We caught about 10 minutes of the dancers from Hungary, and then a while later a Ph.D. and his wife I believe got up on stage and performed a variety of Iranian, Turkish, Afghani, and other music of the region. It was absolutely beautiful! Some of it a little haunting, but it was mostly upbeat things, some of which really had me tapping my feet. It is fun to hear and experience the cultures of other lands, and their folk music and styles.
Emily got up and danced to pretty much all of it, hopping and dancing and whirling and various moves that she does, whenever she is moved by the music she hears. And this music certainly moved her to dance! The players on stage noticed her, particularly the lady, and she commented from time to time, saying things like, "We have a whirling dervish over there!"
There was one Afghani dance, that they played, that is a bit like musical chairs, except without the chairs. Everybody dances, and when they stop the music you freeze, and anyone who doesn't or stumbles because they stopped in an unbalanced position, is "out". They invited people up onto the stage, and specifically noted that Emily had been having a marvelous time dancing and that she should come up on stage and dance to this music! I believe it may be called the Logari, but I'm not sure.
So, she and I headed up there, as I was concerned about her being anxious by herself or not understanding the instructions. I felt I needed to be with her to help explain it in a way she'd understand, but she did fine. We danced, and froze in place when the music stopped. It was a blast.
I was very nervous to go up there, but feeling that Emily might have need of me gave me the courage. And she was so good at it! Freezing right when the music stopped, and sometimes balanced on just one foot! The lady musician thought that was very tricky of Emily, to be able to keep her balance on one foot as that was her position when the music stopped.
We didn't win, although the musicians felt I called Emily before she had stumbled or not stopped fast enough. My anxieties though kind of made me, as I had already stumbled myself awhile before and was already "out".
Definitely out of my comfort zone today, and I may have looked the fool up on stage, although Scott reassures me that I did not. So it was a great experience, and fun to be a part of something from the other side of the world.
Emily asked the musicians for a CD and they gladly gave her one, so we can listen to this music again! And she can dance her little heart out.
We bought Emily a little handmade flute on the way out, and I hope that my head can stand it.
We couldn't stay for Opening Ceremonies, including the Parade of Nations, with all the various dance troupes showing themselves, as we are headed out to my MIL's tonight to stay over and watch the meteor shower tonight, clouds permitting.
I wish I had had my camera with me today!
Wednesday, August 10, 2005
Blue Wookiees and Lex Luthor Poll
Well, last night was really odd, as I will presume you have already gathered from the post subject. I went from being rather awake, to a lead-weight lethargy exhaustion that feels rather inexplicable. I suppose it could be a subconscious reaction to something difficult the psychologist asked me to do this week, or it could be a medication reaction, or it could be another biological aspect of my illnesses, a different kind of shift that I haven't felt before. It is quite unnerving to experience mental, physical, and emotional shifts that are completely out of your control. An analogy comes to mind of riding in a remote control vehicle as a passenger, and you have no idea who is holding the controls and where you will go next, and why, and how long.
It felt as though I had taken a larger than usual dose of one of the two mild tranquilizers I have on hand for anxiety, and to keep the night terrors away, but I had not. I had not taken any medication since my last dose of Effexor almost 24 hours previously. That makes me wonder if perhaps it was the Effexor wearing off, but in the past that just causes a wierd headache, not lethargy or tiredness. Still, I've only been on this new double dose of Effexor for about 6 weeks, so I can't rule anything out. I will of course report this to both the ologist and iatrist and see what they say.
The only thing I did yesterday that was out of my usual routine, was take a brief walk with Emily. I know I'm out of shape, but a walk like that would not leave me feeling so "wasted". At worst I'd be a little tired, with some burning in my thighs from the walk. This felt more like a drug-induced sleepiness, and it scares me that my body is doing something that strong, on its own, for an unknown reason. Fear of the unknown is one of my major anxieties, and so I'm rather perturbed.
You are, by now, perhaps wondering where the Blue Wookiees come into the picture. Well, another side effect of I believe the Effexor is frequent and vivid/real-feeling nightmares and dreams. I won't go into the nightmare that started off the evening, which was extremely disturbing, except to say that I had one. It then transitioned into something completely unrelated, into a sort of Star Wars adventure.
I was part of the Rebellion (yay!), and we were in a labyrinthine network of porous, rocky, sandstone cavernous tunnels, and we were fighting our way through stormtroopers, scout troopers, rock creatures that blended in with the terrain, and the occasional appearance of various identical but clumsy clones of Darth Vader.
I was accompanied by Han Solo, Leia, and Luke, the latter going off a ways to do his Jedi thing and carve a path for us through the hostiles with his lightsaber. Sometimes I was Leia, and sometimes I was a third sibling of Luke and Leia, in whom Han Solo was more interested romantically than Leia. I was pretty accurate with my blaster, picking off troopers here and there, and the occasional Darth Vader clone, from which I'd steal its lightsaber and with which I would proceed to demonstrate my own saber prowess.
At some point we got into a lot of trouble, and it became very scary, and I woke myself up from the nightmare, as it felt very real and dangerous. I drifted back off to sleep, and re-entered this dream, but this time I felt in control of the dream, and even changed the course of events from time to time within the dream. It became a fun and exciting adventure, and soon the Blue Wookiees of which I spoke entered the scene.
As we were fighting our way through a particularly bothersome stretch of cavern, we discovered some Wookiees that had been enslaved to mine resources from the rock. We freed them and they joined us, and we proceeded to kick Imperial butt and move ever closer to the planet's surface and the escape ships that awaited there.
All of a sudden, from behind the last curve we had fought our way through in the tunnels, we heard a ferocious roar. We turned around, and paused in stunned surprise as we saw a horde of massive, medium-bright-blue Wookiees racing towards us. At first we thought they were coming to assist, but they began to fire their weapons at us, and we returned fire. I have NO idea which portion of my subconscious invented Blue Wookiees, but I was simultaneously horrified at this strange sight, and laughing my head off at the very concept and image.
Still, we won the day and gained our escape from this odd battle despite the Blue Wookiees, but they are a compelling and odd image that remains with me, and gives me a bit of a giggle. I am going to see if I can recolor a Wookiee image from SWG blue, and post it sometime.
On another note, I had an idea to post a poll regarding whom you think has made the best portrayal of Lex Luthor, or you think will make the best portrayal, in the case of Kevin Spacey in Superman Returns. I haven't learned how to add a formal poll yet, so I will just ask, and you can post your responses in the comments.
Whom do you think has made or will make the best portrayal of Lex Luthor, in TV or Movies?
A. The dude from the black-and-white TV Show (I'm assuming they had a Lex Luthor on there.)
B. Gene Hackman, in the first four Superman movies starring Christopher Reeve.
C. The dude who played Lex Luthor on Lois and Clark, the TV show in the early 90's I believe.
D. The wonderfully talented actor playing Lex Luthor on Smallville.
E. Kevin Spacey, rumored to be cast as Lex Luthor in the upcoming movie Superman Returns.
My answer is the Lex on Smallville, although it's a bit of an apples to oranges question. Especially since he has had so much more opportunity and length of time in which to show a depth of character than most of the other Lex's had. I still like Gene Hackman's Lex, but he is more of a well not cartoonish version, but is more single-minded with many less facets to his character than my favorite. I also thought the Lois & Clark version was good, and rather appealing in a sort of roguish, kind of dangerously attractive kind of way, but his performance I thought was more egomaniacal than the others, which isn't bad, it's just a different emphasis than some of the others. They all have that egomania to a certain degree, because who is Lex Luthor without that? But the Lois & Clark version seemed to exemplify that quality.
Looking forward to your responses and comments on today's post! I may be odd, but I never get even. Wait . . . .
It felt as though I had taken a larger than usual dose of one of the two mild tranquilizers I have on hand for anxiety, and to keep the night terrors away, but I had not. I had not taken any medication since my last dose of Effexor almost 24 hours previously. That makes me wonder if perhaps it was the Effexor wearing off, but in the past that just causes a wierd headache, not lethargy or tiredness. Still, I've only been on this new double dose of Effexor for about 6 weeks, so I can't rule anything out. I will of course report this to both the ologist and iatrist and see what they say.
The only thing I did yesterday that was out of my usual routine, was take a brief walk with Emily. I know I'm out of shape, but a walk like that would not leave me feeling so "wasted". At worst I'd be a little tired, with some burning in my thighs from the walk. This felt more like a drug-induced sleepiness, and it scares me that my body is doing something that strong, on its own, for an unknown reason. Fear of the unknown is one of my major anxieties, and so I'm rather perturbed.
You are, by now, perhaps wondering where the Blue Wookiees come into the picture. Well, another side effect of I believe the Effexor is frequent and vivid/real-feeling nightmares and dreams. I won't go into the nightmare that started off the evening, which was extremely disturbing, except to say that I had one. It then transitioned into something completely unrelated, into a sort of Star Wars adventure.
I was part of the Rebellion (yay!), and we were in a labyrinthine network of porous, rocky, sandstone cavernous tunnels, and we were fighting our way through stormtroopers, scout troopers, rock creatures that blended in with the terrain, and the occasional appearance of various identical but clumsy clones of Darth Vader.
I was accompanied by Han Solo, Leia, and Luke, the latter going off a ways to do his Jedi thing and carve a path for us through the hostiles with his lightsaber. Sometimes I was Leia, and sometimes I was a third sibling of Luke and Leia, in whom Han Solo was more interested romantically than Leia. I was pretty accurate with my blaster, picking off troopers here and there, and the occasional Darth Vader clone, from which I'd steal its lightsaber and with which I would proceed to demonstrate my own saber prowess.
At some point we got into a lot of trouble, and it became very scary, and I woke myself up from the nightmare, as it felt very real and dangerous. I drifted back off to sleep, and re-entered this dream, but this time I felt in control of the dream, and even changed the course of events from time to time within the dream. It became a fun and exciting adventure, and soon the Blue Wookiees of which I spoke entered the scene.
As we were fighting our way through a particularly bothersome stretch of cavern, we discovered some Wookiees that had been enslaved to mine resources from the rock. We freed them and they joined us, and we proceeded to kick Imperial butt and move ever closer to the planet's surface and the escape ships that awaited there.
All of a sudden, from behind the last curve we had fought our way through in the tunnels, we heard a ferocious roar. We turned around, and paused in stunned surprise as we saw a horde of massive, medium-bright-blue Wookiees racing towards us. At first we thought they were coming to assist, but they began to fire their weapons at us, and we returned fire. I have NO idea which portion of my subconscious invented Blue Wookiees, but I was simultaneously horrified at this strange sight, and laughing my head off at the very concept and image.
Still, we won the day and gained our escape from this odd battle despite the Blue Wookiees, but they are a compelling and odd image that remains with me, and gives me a bit of a giggle. I am going to see if I can recolor a Wookiee image from SWG blue, and post it sometime.
On another note, I had an idea to post a poll regarding whom you think has made the best portrayal of Lex Luthor, or you think will make the best portrayal, in the case of Kevin Spacey in Superman Returns. I haven't learned how to add a formal poll yet, so I will just ask, and you can post your responses in the comments.
Whom do you think has made or will make the best portrayal of Lex Luthor, in TV or Movies?
A. The dude from the black-and-white TV Show (I'm assuming they had a Lex Luthor on there.)
B. Gene Hackman, in the first four Superman movies starring Christopher Reeve.
C. The dude who played Lex Luthor on Lois and Clark, the TV show in the early 90's I believe.
D. The wonderfully talented actor playing Lex Luthor on Smallville.
E. Kevin Spacey, rumored to be cast as Lex Luthor in the upcoming movie Superman Returns.
My answer is the Lex on Smallville, although it's a bit of an apples to oranges question. Especially since he has had so much more opportunity and length of time in which to show a depth of character than most of the other Lex's had. I still like Gene Hackman's Lex, but he is more of a well not cartoonish version, but is more single-minded with many less facets to his character than my favorite. I also thought the Lois & Clark version was good, and rather appealing in a sort of roguish, kind of dangerously attractive kind of way, but his performance I thought was more egomaniacal than the others, which isn't bad, it's just a different emphasis than some of the others. They all have that egomania to a certain degree, because who is Lex Luthor without that? But the Lois & Clark version seemed to exemplify that quality.
Looking forward to your responses and comments on today's post! I may be odd, but I never get even. Wait . . . .
Tuesday, August 09, 2005
Well, I am a superhero nut . . . .
Especially for the classic heroes, and Superman is the classic-est of em all. Here is the official summary of Superman Returns:
Following a mysterious absence of several years, Superman comes back to Earth -- but things have changed. While an old enemy plots to render him powerless once and for all, The Man of Steel faces the heartbreaking realization that the woman he loves, Lois Lane, has moved on with her life. Or has she? Superman's bittersweet return challenges him to bridge the distance between them while finding a place in a society that has learned to survive without him. In an attempt to protect the world he loves from cataclysmic destruction, Superman embarks on an epic journey of redemption that takes him from the depths of the ocean to the far reaches of outer space.
Here is a review posted under it by someone who seems to know more, that gives some interesting and I think promising info:
To be directed by Bryan Singer (X-men) this will take place about 6 years after Superman 2 (with Christopher Reeve). Superman has disappeared after his fight with General Zod (who will be part of a back story) and returns to confront Lex Luthor (Rumored to be played by Kevin Spacey). Metropolis has been let down by his disappearance and has learned to get along with out him. Upon his return they are less supportive and somewhat suspicious of his motives. Fearful that he will just leave again, many hesitate to become dependent on the Man of Steel. Lois Lane is also skeptical as he tries to rekindle his relationship with her.
This bodes well, for several reasons, I think. It provides alot of character development opportunities for the Clark/Superman character, and lots of emotional fodder. The Spiderman movies have always been so proud that Spidey is a real TYPE of guy, ie, he has everyday problems and emotional issues such as communicating w/the girl, let alone will he or won't he GET the girl, and paying rent, and all that stuff. I think the possibilities present in the plotline listed for Superman Returns will provide for more depth of feeling and character to Superman than perhaps we've seen before.
Still, no one can top Christopher Reeve, for me, and of course I'm in LOVE with Tom Welling on Smallville, and Dean Cain was quite the cutie in his turn as Superman. BUT I am glad to see the return of Superman to the big screen, even if it took alot of years, rewrites, stops, and starts. AND so relieved that Nicholas Cage eventually backed out of the role. THAT would have been an absolute disaster, and while I love disaster movies, don't go messing with my superheroes! Nuff said.
On another, very sad note, Christopher Reeve's wife Dana has lung cancer. They are optimistic but then they also thought Chris would walk again . . . I hope she beats it, their son is only 13.
I had my weekly appointment with Dr. Mower today, my psychologist. He's great. Very mild-mannered, an easy manner about him, very laid back and soft-spoken. Very kind and non-judgemental and concerned. And knowledgeable of course. Anyhow, becoming kind of frustrated with the fact that no one will tell me what having bipolar MEANS for me, or anything about it really, I asked him about that and he recommended a book titled "An Unquiet Mind". So I'll be checking that out and possibly posting snippets that I find to be really illuminating about what it's like to be bipolar.
He did say though that to keep in mind that psychology and psychiatry are in a way rather an imprecise field. He said that there's kind of a grab bag of diagnoses under the bipolar umbrella, such as bipolar w/melancholy, bipolar w/psychosis, rapid cycling, mixed states (which I really HATE when I have those), and some others that I forget. Me, I'm not the dangerous or psychotic type, although they (my ologist and iatrist, as I call em for short), haven't told me yet what type I am. He also meant and stated that the field is always evolving, and that in 20 years, maybe even less, bipolar will probably be called something else, as they find out more and more. It used to be called manic depressive, but they keep learning more about it and stuff.
He also told me that, as I'm reading it, and I am posting this for you readers to keep in mind as well, that not everything about bipolar applies to every bipolar person. So as I'm reading, some stuff will resonate with me and be like, hey yeah, so THAT's what it means when I'm feeling that way, and some stuff will be like, heck no I've never been that, or that's not anything related to me. And to remember not to take the things it says as "YOU WILL BE THIS WAY". It's just information and I'm to take from the book what feels like my experience and not worry about the rest.
Thank you if you've read this far, and please post your comments! I am kind of fragile emotionally and don't take criticism well (in fact, that's one of the bipolar things that is so me; the bipolar really makes it difficult for me to handle criticism at all), but just be yourselves and post what you feel.
Following a mysterious absence of several years, Superman comes back to Earth -- but things have changed. While an old enemy plots to render him powerless once and for all, The Man of Steel faces the heartbreaking realization that the woman he loves, Lois Lane, has moved on with her life. Or has she? Superman's bittersweet return challenges him to bridge the distance between them while finding a place in a society that has learned to survive without him. In an attempt to protect the world he loves from cataclysmic destruction, Superman embarks on an epic journey of redemption that takes him from the depths of the ocean to the far reaches of outer space.
Here is a review posted under it by someone who seems to know more, that gives some interesting and I think promising info:
To be directed by Bryan Singer (X-men) this will take place about 6 years after Superman 2 (with Christopher Reeve). Superman has disappeared after his fight with General Zod (who will be part of a back story) and returns to confront Lex Luthor (Rumored to be played by Kevin Spacey). Metropolis has been let down by his disappearance and has learned to get along with out him. Upon his return they are less supportive and somewhat suspicious of his motives. Fearful that he will just leave again, many hesitate to become dependent on the Man of Steel. Lois Lane is also skeptical as he tries to rekindle his relationship with her.
This bodes well, for several reasons, I think. It provides alot of character development opportunities for the Clark/Superman character, and lots of emotional fodder. The Spiderman movies have always been so proud that Spidey is a real TYPE of guy, ie, he has everyday problems and emotional issues such as communicating w/the girl, let alone will he or won't he GET the girl, and paying rent, and all that stuff. I think the possibilities present in the plotline listed for Superman Returns will provide for more depth of feeling and character to Superman than perhaps we've seen before.
Still, no one can top Christopher Reeve, for me, and of course I'm in LOVE with Tom Welling on Smallville, and Dean Cain was quite the cutie in his turn as Superman. BUT I am glad to see the return of Superman to the big screen, even if it took alot of years, rewrites, stops, and starts. AND so relieved that Nicholas Cage eventually backed out of the role. THAT would have been an absolute disaster, and while I love disaster movies, don't go messing with my superheroes! Nuff said.
On another, very sad note, Christopher Reeve's wife Dana has lung cancer. They are optimistic but then they also thought Chris would walk again . . . I hope she beats it, their son is only 13.
I had my weekly appointment with Dr. Mower today, my psychologist. He's great. Very mild-mannered, an easy manner about him, very laid back and soft-spoken. Very kind and non-judgemental and concerned. And knowledgeable of course. Anyhow, becoming kind of frustrated with the fact that no one will tell me what having bipolar MEANS for me, or anything about it really, I asked him about that and he recommended a book titled "An Unquiet Mind". So I'll be checking that out and possibly posting snippets that I find to be really illuminating about what it's like to be bipolar.
He did say though that to keep in mind that psychology and psychiatry are in a way rather an imprecise field. He said that there's kind of a grab bag of diagnoses under the bipolar umbrella, such as bipolar w/melancholy, bipolar w/psychosis, rapid cycling, mixed states (which I really HATE when I have those), and some others that I forget. Me, I'm not the dangerous or psychotic type, although they (my ologist and iatrist, as I call em for short), haven't told me yet what type I am. He also meant and stated that the field is always evolving, and that in 20 years, maybe even less, bipolar will probably be called something else, as they find out more and more. It used to be called manic depressive, but they keep learning more about it and stuff.
He also told me that, as I'm reading it, and I am posting this for you readers to keep in mind as well, that not everything about bipolar applies to every bipolar person. So as I'm reading, some stuff will resonate with me and be like, hey yeah, so THAT's what it means when I'm feeling that way, and some stuff will be like, heck no I've never been that, or that's not anything related to me. And to remember not to take the things it says as "YOU WILL BE THIS WAY". It's just information and I'm to take from the book what feels like my experience and not worry about the rest.
Thank you if you've read this far, and please post your comments! I am kind of fragile emotionally and don't take criticism well (in fact, that's one of the bipolar things that is so me; the bipolar really makes it difficult for me to handle criticism at all), but just be yourselves and post what you feel.
Monday, August 08, 2005
Greetings, Programs!
Um, Becky, or somebody, Help! Not sure what I'm doing but figured I'd start a blog but with my illnesses I was concerned I'd piss people off with what I might post sometimes with what it's like to be Bipolar, GAD, SAD, and probably OCD. Specifically, family, if I post about my worries, fears, concerns, angers, etc, that are influenced and/or even caused by the brain disorders I suffer from, as listed in the previous sentence. But, I guess we'll see.
So here is a poem I wrote in 1993, long before I knew it was anything other than depression. It describes what it is like to have these things, and pleads for the kind of help and kindness and care from friends and family that I need.
So here is a poem I wrote in 1993, long before I knew it was anything other than depression. It describes what it is like to have these things, and pleads for the kind of help and kindness and care from friends and family that I need.
hear me
Do you hear my silent cries?
Are you listening for them?
Do you see the emptiness inside
where anger howls and batters away
inside me where pain is all
and frustration threatens to drown
all that I am and drain me away?
Do you see my dread to reveal too much
of who I am lest you recoil
from my ugliness that I fear
you will see inside me?
Please see some spark in me worth saving,
that I might have an anchor
in the midst of a churning,
storm-tossed sea, helpless
against the onslaught of fear
that looms and threatens to devour
my identity and my choices
of who I want to be.
As I try to withstand the
hurricane-force winds that shatter,
and scatter the shards of my
pain-wracked soul beyond my
trembling reach, please hear my
silent, desperate plea for succor
in my time of need and hopeless hoping
that perhaps someone may
nurture my anguished spirit and
hold my fragile heart in careful,
tender hands, with much Love and
Patience to endure me through
my trials and rejoice with me
as I discover precious eternal
truths.
- Copyright 1993 Sara J.P.(F.), July
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)