I recently explained that ‘the man who mistook their wife for a hat’ was the best little book about brain damage. It was in a discussion of dementia when a person was medicalizing forgetfulness and slippery sliding into denial of civil liberties for forgetfulness. I explained that medically dementia was a failure of neuroplasticity. The brain was a self healing organism and yet over the time the capacity to function with rationality and meaning were lost. The point was that it was ‘the little stuff’ but big stuff that counted ‘like the man who mistook his wife for a hat.’
I was concerned decades ago that people believed ‘insaniety’ was what one ‘thought’. I was so aware of the communist persecution and tyranny of dictatorships at the time. I was a member of the Canadian Civil Liberties Society and Psychiatrists against the Politial abuse of Psychiatry. I’d studied logic at university and saw that rhetoric was the norm in parliament. I was concerned reading of the Gulags and twisting thinking of Marxists whose generalizations were so appealing yet no better than the ‘deconstructionists’. Hypocrisy.
The oldest law of the world is the ‘Chinese Law of the Fish’.
The problem of creativity was that one’s thinking was ‘strange’ and ‘alien’. One step ahead of the crowd you are a genius, two steps a head of the crowd you are a martyr. The problem wasn’t in the ‘thinking’ and a need for more ‘thought police’ but rather in action.
My Jewish genius friend told me that he is afraid to step outside anymore. “I meet people who aren’t even in the 15th century. They come from countries where the ruler is considered divine so there’s been no group consensus like the Magna Carta. Others a living before the 18th and 19th century. They don’t know the French Revolution guillotined the poor leadership or that the American War of Independence rejected the foreign dominance. They certainly haven’t experienced the 60’s revolution. Sex is still the ‘state’s’ And ‘my body my own’ is unheard of . That said I’m discussing quantum entanglement in my home and mind body spiritual epistemology questioning the purpose and meaning of existence and the role of the artists in society and my new neighbour wants to live out 1950’s all over again. When I step out of my home I find myself in this time warp recurring loop and am persecetuted by those who don’t even know the power of marketting, fringe politics of Hitler and just want consumerism and conformity.”
I wrote my blog to celebrate the breadth of ideas and that diversity was the acceptance not of the ‘state approved’ ‘groups of acceptable concerns’ but rather for the bizarre unusual and anxiety provoking. Stephen King was an alcoholic. The government is the primary drug and alcohol pusher for the sake of self serving taxation conveniently forgetting the 30’s referendum in Canada at least that said ‘sin tax’ was only to be used for health care not to reward politicians.
It’s easy to be a critic. Critics are a dime a dozen. Desire is the root of all suffering, says Buddha. Yet Jesus said ‘take the timber out of your own eye before taking the sliver out of your neighbours’. Jordan Peterson said that 10% of society now did not have the intellectual capacity to function in a modern society of computers and AI. Piatian psychologists studied a cross section of society and found that the development of abstract thinking seen by Piaget in his children as occurring with adolescence wasn’t achieved by a surprising half or majority until well into their thirties.
I just came back from a couple of months in the US and was aware of the vast differences between the political systems and government of Canada and the Us but know most Canadian media homogenizes the systems to utilize generalizations. We do. it’s communication.
I wanted my patients to realize that ‘normal’ people had all manner of fear, anger, loves, emotions , doubts and that this wasn’t insane. I wanted to share my own ambivalence and show that yes I can be the ‘leader’ and hide my thoughts with ‘boundaries’ and all manner of ‘state approved’ deception but that this focus on the exterior in terms of thought was horribly disabling and gave rise the the greatest of tragedies. Now we have all manner of insaniety with the term ‘emotional abuse’. All manner of insaniety. There is a society of malignant subjectivity, a culture of narcissism and a world of the selfie. Whole tribes aim to be ‘influences’. Marketting is preferred to truth. All truth is ‘my’ truth or ‘your truth’ and perspective. There’s a superficial interpretation of relativity in a world of ‘if it feels good do it’. Yet the word feeling can come from lust or love and both feel good but in an amoral society where ethics are not longer respected there’s a devil in the details.
I’m anxious because of Julian Assange and the honey traps perfected in WWII and the Cold War still being used today. Gossip and mob violence reign. Law and order decline. Cowardly leadership. Weak men and long necked women.
In the middle of the night I wake afraid because I’ve tried to bare my soul to say this self reflection and expression of the good and bad is okay. It’s all about he Spirituality of Imperfection. The leaders aren’t perfect. Their power suits and pretty houses and body guards and hidden wealth are all rather passé. I like the story Reacher. A modern day St. Francis, the zen monk of my youthful television days.
I have wearied of the cacophony of criticism and the demand and bullying for my time and attention and gone off alone on expeditions to the north and to sea. I’ve enjoyed solitude and not been lonely with a woman and a dog and often with just a dog and even when I had a fish or a houseplant. So many don’t know the essence of such relationship. I am at times aware of the great mystical wonder of being apart of the forest or the world.
I’ve found gratitude helps me adjust my attitude. When I’m afraid and can’t sleep I write what I’m thankful for. I give up fear and replace it with faith. I believe in love. I believe the other is God. I believe I’m playing peekaboo all day with Jesus. I pray that the saints of all religions love shine on my devotion. I am thankful for the air I breath for breathing, for the sun, for warmth and heat, for food and sustenance, for my room mate dog companion, for mobility and walking. I am thankful for feeling. I’m thankful for showers. I’m thankful for all the well wishers. I have this fault where I hear a dozens words of praise and one word of disdain and I disregard all the positivity and focus on the negativity. I magnify disease so that I can heal it which is good in the objectivity but subjectivity I must remember Jesus said, Love God and Love your neighbour as yourself.
The weasel words are ‘God’ and ‘Neighbour’. The natives say ‘all my relations’. I enjoyed meeting the Jain and spending the day with him as he shared how he struggled with killing a mosquito. He was like the Quakers who fasted for killing to but that of humans. Their neighbour was ‘humanoid’. The war of Gods was the history at the beginning of civilizations when Yahweh and other gods were tribal gods.
God to me is life. All things. All. I loved Phillips book, Your God is too small. Then I’m talking with aetheists whose reductionism is infinitismal. But there are no aetheists at sea or in fox holes. Aetheism is a hot house plant and the religion of communism, a dictorship.
The movies are all ‘revenge porn’ or ‘sex porn’. Primal stories of the Joseph Campbell variety. The joke was if you are younger than 40 go to a Freudian because your issues are all sex and aggression but if you’re over 40 go to a Jungian because your issues are about alienation and integration. I loved the book Denial of Death. I fear even fleeting thoughts of suicide in depths of despair because I believe in the law of attraction.
I see depressed and angry and frightened people all day and their emotions and ideas are like infections and they are infective. I am hours on the front line knowing that the administrative class and upper class and the powerful want nothing to do with the ‘people’ . I’m daily facing at least one ‘soul theif’. They’re there to ‘steal my joy’ or ‘run in my day.’ They’re the kafetch and Im trying desperately to survive an hour of their fear which grates like nails on a chalkboard. They are angry at the world and as I’m part of it I’m in their sights.
My job is not to be their lawyer
The psychiatrist focuses on changing the invidual with psychotherapy or medications or other physical therapies. I’m an addiction psychiatrist and trauma psychiatrist. I am like a driving instructor who sits in the car and asks that they let me take the wheel as we crash and burn. I walk a mile in their shoes and hope to return. I’m thoroughly buggered at the end of the day. I’ve been spat on hit, shat on, held hostage and thoroughly abused by my superiors who hide in institutions and avoid contact with people and have the resources to walk about the wards as ‘gangs’. I’m a lone cop in a police car. I’m the priest in the battlefield.
I am holding on to life. I’m holding onto this work. I ‘m said to be at retirement age. I’m supposed to have a referral service who screens out psychopaths and sociopaths. Theres’ a public service and a private service but everyone is now treated as a government worker by the populace who don’t respect private business or that the damage they do to the building I’m in comes out of my income. The government says they should be ‘free’ . The government makes all manner of promises but takes the wealth and leaves us on the front lines like the soldiers on the beach. I wonder how long I can do this.
I was threatened three times today. I’ve had patients point guns at me in the office. I’ve been robbed and mugged. So many patients live in their tv. There are signs all over the city now don’t hurts the healing staff. The delays and lack of services are caused by Ottawa, not me. I’m not the enemy. The rabid dogs are bitting the hand that feeds and the police are hiding in bunkers while the corruption and greed stalk the world.
I go to work in the real world. The majority of critics and complainers live in the safety of their screen, experiences a sanitized propaganda version of reality.
I tried explain that the diagnosis of PTSD came from what soldiers experienced not ‘emotional abuse’. The entitled privileged narcissists screamed at me that I didn’t understand. She had a monopoly on pain and it was always about her.
Since in the end the other is God and I am looking in a mirror I had to reflect with sadness that that was me when I was a teenager. She might be much older but the suffering I felt in her uncontrolled rage was no difference than my mother ‘s pain when I was a teen and shouting at her, blaming her for my emotional immaturity. I sat years later in the Ashram and the Church trying to forgive myself. I still am so ashamed that I was a toddler and shit myself. Now am facing this in old age and wondering about compassion missing my father and brother and grand father and feeling alone. I feel forsaken yet know I’m not.
Thank you God for the good times. Thank you God for the ‘tools’. Thank you God that I am able to recalibrate. Thank you God that I have learned what I struggle to pass on. Thank you God that I have some patience as I progress towards the only choice of acceptance on deaths bed. Thank you God for preparing me for departure. help me to know I’m not this body, this ego, this suffering and am joy . Thank you for my being a spiritual being in a material world and knowing my mind is more than my brain.. Thank you for peace and calm and faith. Thank you God for being there with me when I feel persecuted and alone threatened and afraid. So many threats today. So much anger.
i know these people sometimes for an hour and they say that’s they’re going to kill me as if that will solve a life of errors and defeats. I struggle to help them up while they’re flailing about having a tantrum on my office floor threatening homicide and suicide and claiming they’re going to make the world a better place by annihilating me.
Then I read that my government which paid and murdering terrorist 10 million dollars supports the Hamas terrorists and I hate that the Prime Minister is such an evil twot. As above so below. God gives us the leaders we deserve. Politics is the choice of the least bad alternative. I want to go back to Israel and sit in the temple . I remember the three markets and the disorder and sense of safety I felt or didn’t feel in each of the markets depending on the religion of the people. I don’t like the Religion of Peace that kills homosexuals.
I must find the God within to heal fron the verbal assaults and threats and abuse and the broken system with so many afraid and angry with the mismanagement of the economy and the inflation and corruption. It’s tax time. I’m trying to gather all the paper. I’m pressured to meet deadliness.
I have this sense that I’m waiting for Godot. that this is where it’s’ come to. Younger I worked and looked to a future with hope of a private plane , a family , a
mansion a white picket fence and a family. Here I am some days feeling like the old. My retired friends are leaving the miliaray captains or colonels knowing they didn’t make it to general and that they ‘failed’. The rich are poor in the end. We are all 3 paychecks from eviction. I have saved only to have the trust fund boy steal my savings and the evil witch threaten bank accounts and freeze the assets of those who love freedom. I’m afraid and can’t build up riches on earth.
There is only you God. there is no where to hide her. I went to Meteora and Cappadocia and I’ve been to the islands and to the north. There’s nowhere to hide. I have my back up against the wall of death and the abyss is there. I walk among the delusional immortals who know no respect and haven’t been stabbed or attacked. They’ve lived quiet lives as bullies and haven’t been to jail and asylum and haven’t seen the inside of a quiet room or solitary. They don’t know the feeling of restraints. They’re living young without the experience of a body that betrays them, a glass spilled because the weight can not be sustained by the wrist and arm. The shaking and tremors are apparent now. I’m laughing thinking of the shame.
I liked Clint Eastwood, I don’t let the old man in
Trudeau wants to euthanize the mentally ill. He claims it’s what they want. I dentificatin with the aggressor. Power and homeless, Solyet GReen eappeals but the rich and powerful aren’t leading the way. Trudeau leads from the rear. Communist leaders do.
But then wars are for old men to kill young men. They play their families against another’s families. The gangs go on ….It’s like the animal and insect behaviour. All the poetry doesn’t change the barbarism.
You’ve survived.
Thank you God. thank you Jesus. Thank you for the heat. Thank you for this body. Thank you for sleep and wakeful. Thank you for the mind and heart and soul . Thank you for this day and night. May I know you more truly and surely.
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