Some years ago, I came up with what I call My Three Rules of Behavior.
1.You do what you do because you believe in what you are doing and you have a desired goal.
2.You do what you do because you fear the consequences of not doing.
3.You do what you do regardless of the consequences of your doings.
I believed these rules to be exclusive of one another and ranking in moral value from first to last, from the first being constructive and having direction in one's life, to the second of being not much more than being a place holder without initiative, and lastly being self-destructive without redeeming value. This exclusivity I now realize is nothing more than a philosophical illusion/delusion.
What happens when you believe in suicide and your goal is the same? What happens when you fear the consequences of growing old? What happens when such parameters are applied respectfully to rules 1 and 2, and rule 3 becomes “I don't want to be me anymore?” Is this when Maslow's hierarchy of needs culminates in, “You're screwed, Buster Brown.”
Well, I'm bipolar; I have been off my medications for over a week now and I'm feeling more alive than I have been for years.
Though it started only as a form of therapy, this effort became one of the contributing factors of my life's dissatisfaction. That is I enjoy writing, but the medication that keeps me sane stifles my creativity. When I come across something I've written and long forgotten, I recognize something of worth, if only to my own exclusivity. In the eyes of God, His works are heavenly ballets of thoughtful creation. In the eyes of this mortal, my works are scriptures describing my own dance of thought, purpose and emotion. Here is the thought of what is, the purpose of what could be, and the emotion of desire for more than what has been. From this I face the test to not pull the trigger of contempt, to find again something worth living for, to rebirth a story told. The story draft is only a page or two long. Now, what the hell was it I was trying to say...
Such pretension: to author a blog. When is insanity not enough?
Comments
To Coyote
Coyote,
I'm not even going to try to answer the simple question you pose at the end of your blog. I simply don't feel qualified to discuss sanity or the limits of insanity.
Nor will I face off on psychotropic drugs and their efficacy v creativity. I'll only say that I create best when I'm at my sanest, in this I'm fortunate, but that has much to do with the ability to accept the value of my own efforts.
If this is truthfully an ethical system which you have devised, and which you have tried to live by, I think you have made a giant error, however; you have sold yourself short and robbed your self of much. (There is no typo in that clause.)
Perhaps this is only a part of a larger system, but within the elements, hierarchy, you have named, you have turned made yourself only an object, a machine. You can not be judged only by the nature of your objectives. Your acts, all, effect everything around you. But here it is all about you, you and your desires for you.
A human is more than a thing that reaches for a goal.
Many people do see life, and humanity, only in terms of competition. They develop thought systems that rationalize their on desires for victory. But that is not all that we are. It is not.
Humanity didn't become the transcendent species by competition, we did so through cooperation. Like the bees, we thrive in our groups. And no matter what, we can't leave that behind. Even the recluse (and btw I suspect I'm almost as close to one as anyone here.) and the mountain man, both are a part of a society even when separated from it. It is society's needs they seek to serve, or to escape, but escape too provides returns to the world delivered in even the most limited contacts. (Returns in the shape of tales, or of example, if no more.) The hermit-saints and the scout-explorers whose names we hear of in school and in folktales are the most successful, but not the only useful ones of the kind.
Some would simplify this in to greatest-good-for-most BS. It is not that at all. First we, humans, can not judge that (if for no other reason than our temporal limits.). More importantly, it is our own - our very, very own - good that comes solely from the good of the society, even if at times that good, harms many greatly. Because we have evolved into the social creature we are, we can feel the pains of others, and their joys too. Our emotions are really a guide to ethics. And we are all equipped to feel the difference between hedonistic pleasure and the joy of integrity. Yes, integrity. Principles, not goals, are the better guides.
When we reach the point where death, oblivion, is our only goal -- yes, I have been there -- then we have to remember we are not things. We are all of our contacts; we are all of our interactions; we are, each, all of everything that we are a part of. Even when those things seem to exclude us and reject us and condemn us, they are us. And I can prove that beyond any doubt: How else could we feel so much screaming, aching pain except by being something more than our, oh so limited, selves? How could we ever feel such joy, as we sometime do, in others' happiness, unless they were a part of us and we a part of them.
Please, I don't know if this is sensible to anyone but me, but please, when you feel enough contempt to feel the attraction of that trigger, look beyond your own goals, seek the joy that is in the world that you are a part of. And then act on that.
Seek joy,
Jan
Get back on your meds ASAP then contact your doctor to get them
...adjust to a more tollerable doseage.
I know a fine woman, Debbie, whom keeps stopping her meds when she feels better and the end result has been several near suicides and a general decline in her mental faculties, physical well being and creativity. It's so sad.
I miss the bright, vivacious, sexy woman she was and only wish she had stayed on her meds way back when as she was doing very well on them. At the tiome I never suspected she'd ever had a mental breakdown, she was doing so well. Frankly I might have asked her for a date and much, much more over her fine, elfin sister, Julie, who I still carry touch for.
Please don’t do anything stupid!
John in Wauwatosa
John in Wauwatosa
Yes, absolutely. This is
Yes, absolutely. This is too much akin to taking drugs for a disease, and stopping when the obvious symptoms end, then having it come back in a drug-resistant form that is much harder to deal with.
Three rules?
I dunno, vague guidelines mebbe. I think it's pretty easy to make a positive moral argument against any one of those and probably negative ones too. Everything depends, always.
I have at times in a slightly self mocking way called myself nuts, tossed about lines like sanity is over-rated, yet am I by any learned measure actually nutso and do I care? Having some experience with depression I've wandered on the razors edge and yet... I have seen some slip too. What distance separates the two? A whisper perhaps, a hair, a fractional moment of thought. I have discussed all this openly with a Psych and meds have been rejected, so maybe I'm not completely mad. Then maybe he decided I was too far gone, hah. Sorry there's that self mockery again. I suspect I'm not all that crazy, just a little odd and moody sometimes.
I can't guide anyone on the pros or cons of various meds. You have to trust your doctors there. If they are doing their job the doses will have been adjusted and checked as far as possible to allow some approximation of normality, a rather relative term I think.
Like John I've seen disaster from not taking them and the ripples of pain that can flow from such a decision. Do not please think that creativity is dependent on touching the sky or feeling the heartbeat of the earth, or floating on air. You may fly for a while but the thud when you crash will be painful. Perhaps for many.
Solitude can be nice at times, but only in relation to having the ability to touch others when needs be. so touch where you need to and listen to those you have to trust. Then those small snippets of poetry in the above blog can be smiled at and gone on from to write and then post. You can do it, just believe you can. I do.
Kristina
I've had such a tragedy in my own family. Take John's advice,
please! We do not need you doing something that you, and/or many others will regret.
The tragedy was not in my immediate family, but that of a first cousin. I won't give any details, but it happened when the spouse stopped taking their meds. See your doctor and talk about adjusting the dosage.
It’s not given to anyone to have no regrets; only to decide, through the choices we make, which regrets we’ll have,
David Weber – In Fury Born
Holly
It's nice to be important, but it's more important to be nice.
Holly
There are those who really need Meds
Oh, how well I know the irritations of taking Meds. They kept me alive, and mindless while my life burned to the ground around me. Years later, with the horrific grief of a lost marriage of 39 years, lost family, Job and everything I ever valued, I finally began to come round, and eventually titrated off of them.
In the ensuing interval, I have come to know many people and some who are bi polar. Most of them are very committed to taking the drugs because they have been through some cycles of stopping them; sometimes with disasterous results.
Most of them have realized that being Bipolar is simply a chemical imbalance in the brain and NO you are not crazy. It would be better for you to just get back on the meds and not tell anyone. You do not want to get a rep for being non compliant.
Hugs
Gwendolyn
I'm still here...
I am not ignoring you all, just haven't found a responce to you that I am comfortable with. Still trying to find my way. I've been in Reader Mode for so long, I wonder if I've forgotten how to phrase a comprehensible thought. Thank you for your concern, anyway.
I am a grain of sand on a near beach; a nova in the sky, distant and long.
In my footprints wash the sea; from my hands flow our universe.
Fact and fiction sing a legendary song.
Trickster/Creator are its divine verse.
--Old Man CoyotePuma
I am a grain of sand on a near beach; a nova in the sky, distant and long.
In my footprints wash the sea; from my hands flow our universe.
Fact and fiction sing a legendary song.
Trickster/Creator are its divine verse.
--Old Man CoyotePuma