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Blogfest 2005 - Mar 31, 2005 - Printable Version
- I'm not schizophrenic....and neither am I
by Mark Faulk
(Editor's note: I wrote the majority of this entry over a month ago, then put it aside and forgot about it. Interestingly enough, I found it today, and by a remarkable coincidence, I had come full circle right back to the exact same emotions. Sometimes I think I'm just going in circles in this life. Now that's a depressing thought.) (Another Editor's note: Is it just me, or are these blog entries getting longer by the day?)
I've spent most of my life around one crazy person or another. Take a few bipolars, add a healthy dose (or maybe that should be "an unhealthy dose") of manic depressives, and stir in a couple of schizophrenics for good measure, and you've pretty much just summed up most of my friends, and a good portion of my family as well. In fact, if I were totally honest with myself....which I'm not....I'd probably admit that I fall into one or more of those categories as well.
One of my closet friends, a self-proclaimed bipolar, recently described herself as "a train wreck". When I asked her what she was with me in her life, she said, "I'm a train wreck after the authorities have come and taken the reports, and comforted the victims." Good stuff, that. Truthfully, sometimes I think that I've actually been the cause of a few emotional train wrecks myself. On the upside, I do usually stay and comfort the victims afterwards. This particular bipolar/manic/obsessive episode, this "train wreck" was triggered when I wrote this in the Guestbook a few weeks back:
"I have this theory (that I just now made up) that the reason so many people are diagnosed as bipolar these days is because the world is out of whack. If there was more balance in the world, then we would feel more normal. It's the world that's going insane, not us."
As often happens in our Guestbook, everyone present had something to say on the subject, and most of them seemed to know a little too much about it to be just casual observers. Lists were made of various famous bipolar individuals, and all sides of the issue were thoroughly debated. I told you our discussions aren't your regular garden variety "Bush is an asshole" drivel (but he is an asshole).
This exchange was enough to make me (for the umpteenth time in my alternately stable/dysfunctional life) forego sleep and instead write obsessively about anything in general and nothing in particular. There was a time when I used to write this type of piece, spend hours "editing out" the manic quality, and then end up with something uninteresting and emotionally detached. Now I just write....exposing my frailties, fears, and insecurities, and allow the world to see what's in my head and heart, uncut and unedited. It's not always a pretty sight, but I have to believe that there are a few others who go through the same range of emotions that I do, struggle with the same "frailties, fears, and insecurities", and who are tired of all of the pompous assholes who pretend that everything in their world is just fine and dandy, thankyouverymuch. So....my point here (for those who missed it)....is this: I write what I feel, and if sometimes I get off topic, that's just too faulking bad. Life itself is off topic. Come along for the train wreck....I mean, ride, and I'll try to keep you entertained on the way. And maybe, just maybe, I'll even get back around to the point I was trying to make in the first place. In this case, the point is the point. Whooaa...now that's deep.
So, as I was saying (before I so rudely interrupted myself), my lifelong association with "those living on the edge" probably makes me in some totally nonprofessional capacity qualified to comment on the subject. My father was a brilliant and creative man, who in his life was diagnosed alternately as manic depressive, schizophrenic, and finally, the "experts" concluded, bipolar. There is no question however, that he was an alcoholic. On both counts, he was in good company. Many of the world's greatest minds were also the most troubled. Earnest Hemingway, F. Scott Fitzgerald, Vincent van Gogh? All bipolar. Hemingway, Edgar Allen Poe, Hunter Thompson? Alcoholics. The list is endless, but you get the point. Would my father (or any of these creative geniuses, for that matter), have given up part of his creative ability to lead a more functional life, to have better relationships with his family, to NOT have spent the greater part of his life self-medicating himself into a drunken stupor? Without a doubt, in my opinion. Would he have given up ALL of his creativity for the sake of normalcy? Not a chance.
I personally am extremely close to several diagnosed bipolar individuals, and they are the most fascinating people I know. I am of the opinion that the disorder, properly dealt with, is nothing more than another of life's obstacles which we must continually overcome. True, there are degrees of any emotional disorder, but for most, proper support from those they love, combined with a strong inner resolve and an understanding of the problem (coupled with the occasional healthy dose of medication), can make most of us functional and, at least relatively happy, without sacrificing the creative side that many of us possess.
On a personal level, my Mother's side of the family was much more grounded, and if there is a genetic tendency towards these disorders (which I believe contributes to it at least to some degree), then I feel as if I was lucky to have that genetic balance that my Father might have lacked. Would I give up my Father's creative genes to be more "normal, happy, and average".... not a chance. On the other hand, would I give up the side of me that at least to some degree allows me to function in society in order to have the depths of creative genius that my father possessed? Again, not a chance.
Am I happy all the time, or even most of the time? Hell no, life at best is a struggle, and at worst is barely worth living. And that's just the REAL world. Kurt Vonnegut, in the forward to Slapstick, described a conversation with his brother, who is a nuclear physicist, where he walked into his laboratory, viewed the total disarray, and commented on it. His brother's reply? Pointing to his head, he said, "You should see what it looks like in here." If most of us were honest, that's what we would say about the emotional chaos that goes on inside every one of us. So, continual bliss? Perpetual happiness? Nirvana? Forget about it. If you feel even "somewhat contented" the "majority of the time", then you are light years ahead of the rest of us. Enjoy it today, for there's no telling what tomorrow may bring.
Happiness is overrated, in my opinion, especially for the creative soul. While I want to be happy, there is another side of me that revels in "feeling" the pain of others. If I can't feel their pain, how can I understand their plight? and if I can't understand their plight, how can I help them, and how can I write about it or paint a painting that expresses it? A friend and I were recently discussing going through painful situations (we were talking about ending a relationship in this case), and we both admitted that we picked certain music to listen to when we were hurting precisely because it helped us to "feel" the pain more deeply. Losing a loved one SHOULD hurt, and sadness and pain are a part of the healing process. Let the pain flow over you and inside of you, feel it to the depths of your heart and soul.....but then, learn to let it flow THROUGH you like electricity. In one side, work its way into every fiber of your being, and then out the other. Carry the knowledge and understanding that you gain from those experiences with you forever, but let the pain itself go.
That brings me to another point. "Eternal happiness" is not the goal in life, it's not the only emotion worth experiencing and therefore, striving for. Every emotion is worthwhile, and it is the full range of feelings and emotions that ultimately enrich our lives, the love and the loss, the pleasure and the pain, the passion and the longing, the happiness, and yes, even the sadness.
There's been so much crazy stuff going on in the world, sometimes it's easy to forget about what's really important. It occurred to me today that everything is interconnected, and the turmoil that invariably enters each of our lives is far outweighed by the brief moments of perfection. Would I give up all of the hard times and uncertainty, if it meant sacrificing even one of those precious moments that make life worthwhile? Not a faulking chance.....
As I look around at the shambles my life can sometimes become, as I strive for the normalcy that eluded my father until his dying day, as I, for the umpteenth time, attempt to clean up the very messes that I myself have made in my own proverbial nest, one thought comforts me. No matter how badly I seem to sabotage my own situations, it could be worse, a lot worse. After all, you should see what it looks like in here.
(Editor's note: This is an entry from The Faulking Truth blog, ingeniously entitled "Blogfest 2005". If you'd like to waste more of your valuable time blogging, go to www.faulkingtruth.com/blog/ )
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