Tuesday, July 19, 2016

Rainy Day Vancouver

There needs to be a new diagnosis for depression for Vancouver.  Seasonal Affective Disorder (SAD) is related to the loss of sun with seasons.  I think there's a need for a DSMV "Rainy Day Blues" diagnosis.  The treatment would be staying in bed till the rains stop and the sun comes back.  On Facebook there was a post from Scotland with a picture of the 'one sunny day' of summer.  I'm feeling summer deprived here in July.

Also Gilbert's back is sore.  He was hurt again at the groomers and hasn't been able to jump since last Friday. All he does is lie about appearing to not want to move because of pain.  Having traumatic joint arthritis myself I'm "feeling the weather" in my bones today too.  I've gone to work. I brought a little bed for him to lie under the desk here so he'd be more comfortable.  I may take him back to the Vet's again.  He injured the disk last year jumping out of the truck and then doing more harm jumping down from the ATV.

Adapting to my poor little dog, so he won't jump up or down from waist height, I've traded the Yamaha Quad in for a Honda 500 Pioneer Side by Side.  That way Gilbert can step in and out just like in the car.  Of course as I'm hunting more with Tom and taking Laura along more the passenger seat is a must.  Also there's a roof and windshield and roll bars so it's an upgrade.  It was occasioned by Gilbert though.

Today he couldn't even climb into the low lying Miata. I've been picking him up and carrying him whereever there's stairs.  He sleep on the floor beside the bed rather than on the bed like he usually does now despite my making a ramp for him to get up.  Poor little guy.

My disappointment with the groomer is simply that, he was well before, and he was lame again after. So something happened. Possibly playing with another dog or resisting getting his ears trimmed. Whatever a part of me believes that something happened and that someone noticed but in our sick society no one notified me. It's possible they didn't know.  I don't even know if they were notified of his back being sensitive.  Still, because I don't know I can't use that groomer again.  The 'unknown' makes the place more dangerous.  Avoidance is a great coping mechanism.  I just can't risk another injury to Gilbert.  The weekend was spent caring for him and now there will likely be a vet bill possibly because someone was careless. I don't know.  I feel all those helpless and guilty feelings that parents feel all the time.

On a rainy day I find any excuse for 'self pity'.

"Self pity' is that go to place that the mind is seeking an excuse to find.  Daily I resist the alluring temptation of self pity by constantly reciting "All shall be well, All shall be well. All manner of things shall be well.'

I let a weasel of despair into my mind on the way to work.  I'd heard the Trump and Obama speech copy and thought how very sad that 'speech writer's' can make such an important error.  I can see how it happens. Nothing is new.  Everything has been said.  I found myself wanting to go to the tombs and find who had said Obama's lines which Trump had apparently copied.  The Stair Way to Heaven debate just finished. The whole "intellectual property' debate is a mine field.  Harlequin Romances are factory produced 'storys' endlessly repeating.   The University Professors are constantly facing 'plagiarism' these days, whole essays lifted from the internet.  The Media is the worst.  Repeatedly we've seen that whole stories are copied over and over again like human reports are Celtic Monks rewriting Reuters copy, the human photocopy machines.  Yet these narcissistic hypocrites go all politically correct "I'm offended" when a woman with English as a second language repeats three sentences which were not that original in the first place.  I recognise one 'phrase' and another 'sentence' and really would like to know where Obama plagiarized that from given the limits of originality.

It's a rainy day so the image of the petrie dish with the man's brain removed from his body and placed there by his arch enemy.  A good scientist and his wife are struggling in this horrifying future movie to wonder how they will reconnect this disconnect alive brain to some body or even a communication device. He continues in his dream chasing his love.

I'm that man on rainy days.  I'm in this life which the Biblical Ecclesiastes writer describes as "All is Vaniety."

I just did some distracting work at the office.  The essence of depression is narcissism. In the care of others I am distracted from my own suffering.  Kiekegaard said 'Life is Suffering Unto Death".  And the more I focus on myself, the more mental masturbation I do, the more I let my ego be the determinant of reality, the more depressed I am.  In the act of caring for another I am "enlightened'. Little Prince is a book about a little boy on an Asteriod caring for a Rose .   It's in caring for the Rose that he loves.  Love is an action verb.  Little Prince is one of true classics of love. Unfortunately mutuality seems lost in this day.  (See the self pity meme slips in, unwanted.)

Cognitive Behavioural Therapy is all about 'replacing' or 'blocking' the negative 'memes'.  The word 'meme' is like 'gene' but refers to a make up of the mind rather than the body.

Each of us carries a collection of these 'Mutated Memes", memes that induce sickness rather than wellness.

"Things may be going well now but that's just life fattening me up for the witch to eat me."  ( forgetting the children 'escape' from the Gingerbread House and just focussing on the beginning of the story and all the variations of that."
"I loved her once and she was a bitch so all love is going to end badly"
"The rich and elite have success all sown up and I'm never going to get ahead."
"The only way to succeed is by crime so the best way is to lie, steal, cheat but don't get caught'.
"It doesn't matter.'
"All is Vanity'
"Might as well kill myself."
"No one cares".
"There is no God"
"Life is just meaningless"
"The one who wins is the one who dies with the most toys"
"Women only want you when you're rich."
"Men are always cheaters."
"Women are always cheaters"
"We are all oppressed".
"The Government is all lies and theft."
"You're no good."
"You're a loser".
"Alien lizards have taken over the planet"
"We're all just wage niggers."
"The Bankers have fixed the game"
"They're put poison in our food so we get cancer."
"They're trying to kill us off."

The list goes on.

I've been listening to psychotic thinking for 30 years or more.  I've heard every new insaniety meme as it appears, They're like flu viruses.  My favourite is that I'm in feed back meaningless dream loop with no escape.  Watching the science fiction movies and reading the horror stories helps one understand the mind of genius and insaneity.  I don't judge my patients when they jump off high rises in hope of flying.  Maybe when they splat they are flying in a parallel reality.

I'm stuck here in rainy Vancouver.

I could walk out.

I could walk away with my injured dog and just see how far I get. Maybe take the Harley.  The geographical solution to bad weather. Go south.  End up in Hollywood. Get a job as an aging busboy in some off beat diner and wait to be 'found'.  I love the optimism of the Jim Croce's working in a car wash song, "I should be smoking a big cigar".  Everyone wants the manger job. I want God's job.  I loved the various omnipotence stories, the best being Doystoyevski, Brother's Karamasov, or better perhaps is Job in the Bible.  We're always 'defining' deity.  Yet the fact is that there might just as well be an eternal arbitrariness. The creative claim they want originality but faced with the true unknown, even Moses, as good a follower as there is, shields his face.

To know the face of God, the see the face of God is to be lost.  We hold onto our separateness. The self is the little self and the Self is the greater Self.  But the ego is the part of me that sees myself as disconnected. I am an escapee from the group mind.  I fear being absorbed. But that is Nirvana and Samadhi of the Hindu/Buddhist meme.  "I am the bubble make me the sea."  Being more Christian I'm struggling with what Paul Simon of the Old Testament called the "mother and child reunion.'  Looking back over my shoulder I'm a baby banging on the woman's vagina begging to be sucked back into the womb. I think of Leonard Cohen with that image. But Prince Charles said it best when he said "I want to be your tampon".  Really, admit it, I want to be back in the womb.  The vagina is just the edge.  Imagine effortless sustenance, mother's feel good hormones channelling through you, dreaming.

Are any of born?

The "Born Again" movement, being born in spirit. The Spiritual rebirth, sadly so intellectural and emotional for many, when there is a dream of something transcendent.  Let me out of here!!!!
Beam me up Scotty!!!! Where's the fucking Rapture when I need it?

It's just a rainy day in Vancouver. I'm at the Downtown East Side clinic waiting for the next heroin or fentanyl addict to come in.  I prescribed methadone.  "It's too dangerous out there." He said. "I just want to get high. Take a vacation from my mind. I don't want to die. What's going on. Whose killing off their customers."

The police have traced the bad fentanyl to the Chinese. The Chinese military hacked into all of Canada's computers on a few occasions.  Justin Trudeau and his father Pierre Trudeau before him are in league with the Chinese. The United Nations Agenda 21 is a document for killing off the poor. Get rid of anyone but Liberals and Democrats and those who believe in One World Order.  Bring on the Totalitarian State. The great Corporate Consumer Paradise.  The Catholic Church tried this. The Roman Empire and all the African and Asian empires. Now there's Brexit.  Allah is all. Everyone must be Islam. Kill the jews, destroy Israel, the followers cry and another Jihadist attacks a soft target.  Trudeau, Obama and Merkel blame Christians and white people and trucks and guns.  Whose buying these puppets.  It's like the days before WWII when Goebels was writing script for the Nazis.  Marketting and advertising selling some crazy dreams. Eventually Freud said "Maybe the paranoids are right."

My back is sore. My dogs back is sore. We are Atlas.

There is Existential Angst.  The Scream on a wood block sums it up.  I just saw the movie  Cell. It's a variation on Invasion of the Body Snatchers.  I met a schizophrenic man who had Capgras Syndrome. He believed everyone he knew, his closest family had been taken over by aliens.  I met another man who had the opposite syndrome, he believed he'd been taken over by an alien while everyone else was well. Reminded me of Metamorphoses. Kafka.  I am a cockroach.

They say if there is a nuclear blast sufficent to wipe the earth clean, a cataclysmic WWIII then the cockroaches will still survice. Maybe our consciousness will switch to the insects and two cockroaches will be chatting each other up in a futuristic cockroach bar.  Einstein said that if we keep having World Wars we're eventually devolve to fighting with sticks. He was optimistic. I'm already considering fashion accessories for Cockroach Vogue and GQ.

It's just a rainy day in Vancouver.

The tough question was whether there were as many Jesus incarnations as there are liveable planets in the galaxy multiplied by multiple universes. I had my first encounter with my own insignificance when I got a child stethescope kit as a birthday present and looked in my first drop of pond water.  How can any one be arrogant and grandiose after the sudden realization of oneself as a drop of pond water in some bigger stethescope of some bigger kid.

I am insignificantly significant and significantly insignificant.  I coined t his meme or affirmation for my bipolar patients who struggled with 'right size'.

I just gravitate to self pity.

The more intelligent one is the greater the risk of depression.  That was the message in the most brilliant computer in the Hitch Hiker's Guide to the Galaxy.  :"I am so depressed".

Another rainy day in Vancouver.

This too shall pass.

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