Feeling Weird and Disconnected

Have been having an interesting time of late trying to get back into the swing of life and what is considered 'normal'. Just over the past couple of days in particular I've been feeling very disconnected from people and things, like a stranger in a strange, strange world. Surely I'm not alone in thinking that the world is a really weird place and we're all just babies when it comes to understanding and making sense of it.

Went to see a doctor yesterday and he has given me the rest of the year off work and I'm not sure how I feel about it. On the one hand I don't really feel capable of going to work and performing my job properly, but on the other I feel I SHOULD be doing something and that taking the time off is just wrong. He reckons I need to be on medication for the rest of my life in order to live 'normally', but I wonder what I miss out on by being medicated. No-one even truly seems to know how the drugs work on the brain and have the desired effect on behaviour.

I don't want to be on medication for the rest of my life! Am I insane?

The Road Already Paved: Recommended Reading

So many people with mental dis-ease suffer in silence, and yet there are so many that have travelled this well-worn path. For instance, two books in particular that have really helped me to understand my own condition are as follows (and they also come recommended by Sane.org).

The first of these is Anne Deveson's 'Tell Me I'm Here'. Her struggle to get help for her son who was stricken with debilitating illness is heartbreaking, and yet has paved the way for where the mental health system is today.

The second book I would recommend for greater insight into the mind of someone who has schizophrenia is Richard McLean's 'Recovered, not Cured'. The name says it all which is what I like most about this one.

Another book that is said by some to be "the bible of mental illness" is E. Fuller Torrey's book, 'Surviving Schizophrenia'. The book is particularly useful for family/friends/relatives of those afflicted wishing to gain greater understanding or insight into various schizophrenia-related conditions.

Nora the Piano Playing Cat

This cat is simply so beautiful I couldn't resist posting the clip of her. Her name is Nora and her human is a piano teacher which makes it all the more wonderful that they found each other.

The Psychotic Dream

The following was an entry in my dream journal just prior to my second major psychosis experience. Interestingly, the book I am currently reading - 'Fugitive Minds' by Antonio Melechi - states that ancient Greeks thought that dreams were nocturnal insanity.

April 25th, 2002
Don't know where to start with this one, it was all over the place. But essentially, I was living in some rooms of a large building that had used to be an old school boarding house and there were lots of people coming and going, both familiar and unfamiliar. Part of me felt happy, but another felt scattered and not sure how to deal with all the people. The rooms were divided oddly in terms of where people lived and where I lived and I couldn't establish which rooms were mine and even when I did, it would change so that others came and took over the space. At times I had more rooms and at other times I seemed to have less. But all the while people were coming and going through my space. The house itself was huge - a mansion or building with many rooms and levels.

At one stage a young male plumber came in and said he had some work to do but I put my elbow to his chest and wouldn't let him come in - I kept telling him I hadn't asked for anything to be done. I was quite bothered and offended that he was trying to come in without being asked.

At another point I was sitting outside on a concrete sort of step that ran around the perimeter of a circular space where lots of people were milling around. There were some guys standing up near me and I think I knew them. A homeless man sitting next to me turned around and said something I couldn't understand. He had beard growth over most of his face and vivid glowing blue eyes, blue covering his eyeballs, with no whites and he was grinning strangely. One of the guys responded to him for me and his attention was then directed away which was a relief. The started talking about some decision that John Howard [Australia's prime minister for those who don't know] had made in relation to Australia's indigenous population.

In another part of the dream I was walking along with some people unfamiliar to me, but still familiar somehow. The girl to my left kept turning around and telling me to "stop it". I didn't know what she was talking about as I wasn't aware of having done anything to her. But then I realised that some part of me had been reaching out and touching her without my being aware of it at all. I got very freaked out by this and was afraid that I couldn't control myself. I then felt a touch of something or someone at my back and turned to find nothing or no-one there, followed by another touch at my side. I was even more freaked out at this point as I thought I was going completely mad, and then I saw my shadow on the ground in front of me which distracted me.

Some words of analysis: As stated above, this dream occurred just prior to my second major experience of psychosis and I think there are some definite indications, looking back, that suggested this was imminent. Of greatest significance to me is the parts of the dream in the mansion wherein I was having difficulty finding my own space as defined by the walls of the rooms and where other people were. It is said that people in the midst of psychosis experience a loss of boundaries that so-called 'normal' people have no difficulty with.

Psychosis and a Hospital Stay

During July of this year I spent 3-4 days in hospital for a third episode of psychosis. It was my briefest stay yet and I'm happy to say, I feel as if I've now fully recovered.

My memory of those few days is rather sketchy, but I do remember a few specific incidents that I feel like writing about. One such incident was the time that three or four of us were sitting in the common lounge-type area on the couches, laughing our heads off at something. Whatever it was, it was really damn funny. The next thing someone nods in the direction over my shoulder and I turn to find a nurse hovering over me with medication - valium to be precise - in hand. Two pills for me to take immediately. I wondered what I had done that was so wrong that warranted sedation as I had been feeling just fine and after all, they say that laughter is the best medicine...

For the most part I found the staff to be kind, but so far removed from the actual treatment of patients in the main adult psych ward as to not assist or intervene when I thought it could have been useful. The set up or layout of the ward was such that the nurses and staff sat behind a glass wall that looked out into the main areas - a room with a pool table, the lounge area and a hallway. I referred to their station as the observation deck or fishbowl.

At one point, in order to get their assistance after repeated knocking to no avail (they could see me through the window but simply looked up at me and then went back to their writing), I took a poster off the wall and shoved it up against the glass. It was a picture of a lovely looking, kindly nurse with the words "Nurses are here to help you". I had been having a panic attack and felt in need of some medication to calm me down, and it was the only way I could manage to get their attention.

There were other times where I felt the need to talk to someone, or I felt that someone else needed assistance and I was continually ignored. Like for instance when I found a piece of glass on the carpet outside the fishbowl that could easily have been stepped on by someone with bare feet or just socks on. Or when I tried to draw attention to the spots of blood on the ground outside that I wasn't even sure actually existed. Or when Tony, the older guy-patient from Macedonia who spoke very little English was sleep walking. Or when Chris was crying outside the nurses station, due to the break up of a long term relationship, severe depression and a breakdown of sorts and could have benefited from the attention of staff.

Hospital these days is a last resort. Community treatment is the preferred method of dealing with mental illness and I think in part this explains some of the behaviour of the nurses/staff during my brief stay insofar as their policy is of getting people back to 'normality' as soon as possible and avoiding dependence on the system. To their credit, the majority of staff were friendly, caring and did their jobs well. At the hospital I stayed in at the very least. In comparison with my previous experiences in hospital (if it is indeed possible to compare), this time around has been the easiest.

Only if the Shoes Fit... Labels and Diagnosis

Presently I'm in recovery from a third psychotic episode and am taking aripiprazole, 20mg per day. I worry about potential side-effects and what it may do to me in the long-term, but I know I need it. I am not in any way suggesting that this medication will be suitable for anyone with a similar condition - all I know is that it seems to have worked for me in the past.

Over the years I've been given a variety of diagnoses to choose from, starting with Borderline Personality Disorder (BPD), Schizophreniform Psychosis, a choice of Bipolar or Schizoaffective Disorder, and more recently graduating to Schizophrenia. Given previous versions of the DSM, I would also have been classified as ill based on my sexual preference or identification.

None of the labels seemed to sit well with me and like the saying goes, "if the shoe fits...", I'm not even sure the diagnosis of 'schizophrenia' is right. But then, as one who has been labelled 'mentally ill', I am not qualified to diagnose myself.

Cut the Crap: "Mental Illness" Stigmatises

Image from Ray Young Chu.

Pretty hung over yesterday with not much energy for anything. My unit was (and unfortunately still is) a complete mess and as much as it was bothering me I couldn't summon the energy to clean. Beer bottles all over the coffee table, wrappers, clothes strewn around. I sat on my couch for most of the day chain-smoking and thinking, chain-smoking and thinking...

I was thinking about the past a lot, my previous "psychotic" episodes, hospitalisations, the system, medication and mental illness in general. And I was going through so many different emotions that it was scaring me. Anger, frustration, confusion, stuff like that. And lots of tears. I know it had a lot to do with the alcohol from the night before and lack of sleep.

As I sat on the couch smelling my own body odour and disgusted by it, yet unable to get into the shower I was thinking of who I could ring to talk with. Like, anyone who might understand what I was going through. And you know what I found? There are people out there that do! They might not have had the same experience or learnt the same lessons from it, but they do understand that it can be hard.

I guess the reason I'm writing this is that I really, really felt very isolated and alone and that no-one did understand, but what I found in calling some different people is that if you can explain or allow yourself to express what it is you're feeling, that no one laughs, no one makes fun of you or thinks you're an idiot/stupid/weird/psychotic. The right people empathise and care.

Back in 1994 and 2002 I was sick. But not in the way "they" think and the longer we go on stigmatising, challenging, questioning, attacking, not-listening, not-trying to understand but simply medicate because it stops what's happening, the farther we are from truly dealing with that which presents itself in terms of "mental illness".

I know from my own experience of dealing with professionals when I was unwell, the way in which I was questioned, patronised and mistrusted led me to keeping a lot of what was going on in my head to myself. Sorry, but of the psychiatrists I've seen over time I don't think any of them really knew what was going on and we're all guinea pigs. There is something that needs to be tempered and medication seems to do the trick, but is it the answer?

However, I should say that since throughout history the treatment of those deemed mentally ill has improved dramatically (just think about "Bedlam") I think we're on a much better track. One thing I refuse to adopt however is the label of "mentally ill FOR LIFE" when I've only really had two isolated experiences with full-blown mental disturbance.

Anyway, that's enough for now because it's making me angry! Bye.

Switched to Overdrive and Running Out of Gas

Image from CCPhotos CPD... Apt for present state of being.

All I can say is WHAT A WEEK. I'm in overdrive and actively working to settle after quite a challenging time both at work, and now personally. To go into every detail of what has occurred over the last week would be tiresome (as my mind hasn't been on much else and I know I need now to put it all to rest), but I kind of want to get some of this down.

Have basically had a battle with my team leader at work due to some (perhaps unintentional) bullying behaviour with regards to sick leave I've taken and general miscommunication, mainly on his part. To cut a really, really bloody long story short, yesterday I was put in a meeting with said team leader, an HR representative and a union representative. Ultimately the meeting went very well from my perspective and many issues were brought up/confronted and hopefully things will change. He wasn't at work today and I haven't seen him since the meeting (which is probably a good thing), so will be interesting to see him again after the weekend.

However, I do now have some concerns about my mental health as having been in overdrive since Monday morning (when shit basically hit the fan at work between team leader and I), and having difficulty winding down. Finding myself second-guessing/questioning my thoughts and perceptions for "reality" and having mini panic attacks (like heart palpitations, butterflies, shallow breathing) which I've never had before. Consciously having to tune out things around me to focus, but then struggling or finding it a concern that I'm focusing too intently. Very hard to explain.

Such a fine frigging line I feel I'm walking, between what's real and what isn't. I think anyone reading this who knows me in person would perhaps be concerned that I might be losing it and I would request that if anyone reading this that does know me has any concerns, they direct them to me so I can address them... Challenges to some comments or thoughts that come out of me are actually welcome as an external take on stuff going on can be helpful. Hint, hint?

Gonna shut up now because things might get misconstrued.... I feel that if I verbalise too much of the chatter in my head right now I'll be locked away. Really, I'm ok! Going out later tonight to chill. Yep.

Um, PS. If you're going to challenge me, please make sure you do it gently. Firm or borderline "aggressive" challenges make me feel even more stressed due to the questioning which really, really makes me wonder... God I hope this makes sense.

Research into Homosexuality

So anyway, I was cruising the 'net looking for stuff of interest and came across the 60 Minutes story called 'Gay or Straight?' Sure, it's a curious phenomenon and I can appreciate any attempt at greater understanding of issues surrounding homosexuality, but really...

The point of the story, which is divided up into a number of different segments, appears to be to explore the causes/origins of homosexuality - like, where does it come from and whether it may be due to nature/nurture/hormones/whatever. Whilst all this is interesting, what does it matter? Why is it important to know these things?

One of the segments was about a scientist who was researching homosexual behaviour in rats ('cos humans are so much like these creatures - and whose surname was - get this - "Breedlove"!). He discovered that rats exposed to certain hormones straight after birth could be made to exhibit the behaviour of the opposite to their sex, for example, a male rate given female hormones and castrated would respond in the same way as a female rat to the sexual advance of a male rat by tilting its head back and presenting its rear.

I wonder, why is money being spent on such research? Are they looking for a "cure" for homosexuality?? Would such a thing a be of benefit to society? Tell me, please!

(Image above from Allposters.com)

Question Everything

I've had various diagnoses over the years in relation to "mental illness", the majority of which I fought initially but have since taken on board. The shrink I was seeing was a professor, supposedly an expert in his field - internationally recognised and renowned to the point that if I mentioned his name, people had actually heard of him. Based upon an initial appointment and very little background he gave me the label/diagnosis of 'bipolar'. Since then, he offered a further diagnosis of 'schizoaffective disorder' which seemed more apt, but still it was based on his perception/interpretation of things I told him - framing of me in terms of one who is mentally ill, without question.

His advice was that I would have to be on anti-depressants and anti-psychotics for the rest of my life, and that without the anti-psychotics there was "a one hundred percent chance" that I would have another episode. First, there's a one hundred percent chance that the sun will come up tomorrow, that one day I will die, that if I don't put on deodorant I will be stinky, but to say I have a one hundred percent chance of getting ill again without anti-psychotics? That's a joke. How can he possibly be so certain?

Secondly, prior to seeing his-highness, I saw a number of other shrinks immediately following my second psychotic episode who all seemed to have differing opinions, however, the majority agreed that I would need to be on the medication for a period of up to two years. This to me, is much more reasonable. We are talking about mental illness here. It's such an obscure realm to quantify and predict.

Not once during my time seeing the professor (over a period of about 2-3 years) did he perform any further analysis on me, eg. CT scan, other than to question whether or not I was having any psychotic symptoms. The only thing, the only value I could perceive in seeing him was in prescribing medication - and that is now what I'm questioning. I am not questioning the fact that I needed treatment at the time I had a psychotic break - there is no way I could have continued as I was without it. But for the rest of my life?

Reading this, one may wonder what the big deal is - so what if you have to take medication for the rest of your life? My issue with it is the fact that on medication, my thinking is altered in subtle, yet significant ways that I notice, whether others do or not. I want to be who I am without the hindrance of chemicals that are not only unnatural, but the long-term effects of which have not been adequately tested. It's one thing to take medication for diabetes or a heart condition - that I could accept and I'd willingly comply. But the mind is something else, something intangible...

Does this sound crazy?

Fleeting Human Contact

http://xkcd.com/c229.html

I'm posting this image as I recently had an experience of fleeting, but what I felt was meaningful human contact.

I won't go into detail as to what actually occurred between us, but suffice to say I felt we had really connected and then it all went to sh*t.

It's sad as connections like that are all too infrequent.

Medication is My Lifejacket, My Straitjacket

It's no big deal these days to be on anti-depressants - so many people I know are or have been. I've been on them myself now for a number of years and they help me stay afloat. This fact was brought home to me yet again over the last few days as I went without them from about Thursday to Sunday morning and everything came crashing down.

I'm probably exaggerating here for emphasis, but basically I fell in a heap yesterday morning. I think a combination of no anti-depressants, alcohol consumption the night before, PMS, lack of sleep and recent events conspired to bring me down in a pile of gushing tears. Everything that happened or that I thought about was coloured by the fact that I had gone without the anti-depressants. I started seeing things in grayscale and black instead of the usual spectrum.

Initially my solution was to try to sleep it off. However, one of the pervading emotions I feel in this state is loneliness and in trying to go to sleep the focus changed from external to internal and I started to feel worse. Thankfully, I received an sms from a friend about meeting in the city to take some photos (something we had arranged a couple of weeks ago) and it was exactly what I needed to get out of that headspace.

Prior to going out I did manage to get a laugh out of a visit to a chatroom on PsychCentral. I don't usually like chatrooms for the crap that goes on and the level of conversation which is generally in the gutter (so far as I've seen), but have found the PsychCentral chats to be warm and welcoming, and somewhat intellectual insofar as topics that get discussed. This morning I was chatting with a few people and somehow the conversation turned to the topic of orgies and we were joking about how inappropriate that was for the PsychCentral site. It was right at that point that a user with the handle 'amIintherightplace' entered the room and got us all in fits of "LMAO". Guess you had to be there. It lightened my mood temporarily at least.

So why am I telling all this to cyberspace? Because this site is becoming my outlet, a space I've created for personal expression and so far it's possible I haven't really been honest. Sure, I share some intimate details about my life which give an impression of who I am as a person, but so far I haven't written much about my emotions and feelings. So this is a first for me. The internet is my friend. Thanks for listening.

Took my usual dose of anti-depressants yesterday morning and will again come breakfast this morning... I think they're kicking back in.

Just Because it's Different...

I feel like I'm being cheeky here, but I read a recent post called "Reality Blindness" by David Straker on the Changing Minds blog that struck me as questionable. David suggests that "[s]ome people, it seems, are not in touch with reality. They live in their own world of fantasy where everything is just so. Or perhaps not so. A fantasy can be a nightmare as well as heroic delusion. Whatever their way, they seem totally blind to the reality around them."

In a fit of passion about my own take on reality, I didn't hesitate to write a potential comment for David that essentially questioned him about the nature of reality and what it was he was actually referring to - whether it be his own reality or that which is co-created by us as a society. Comment moderation is switched on for the site and perhaps I was a bit aggressive or missed his point, or perhaps he hasn't had the chance to respond, but I note that the comment has not been posted.

Essentially what I was trying to get at is the very nature of that which we call "reality". As human beings we are constantly creating our own realities and for the most part, no one's is any more valid than anyone else's. Our so-called reality is shaped by our own experience and capacity for interpretation of that experience, whilst having to contend with the separate realities that exist within the bounds of other people's perceptions.

As one who has been deemed to have "completely lost touch with reality" twice before in my life, by use of language such as 'psychotic' and 'delusional', I don't believe that there is any such thing as objective reality. Sure, there exists a world out there but there are so many facets to that world that different perceptions, experiences and genetic makeup all come into play to interpret it. One person's bliss is another's hell.

We as individuals, part of subcultures, broader social sets and even nations are constantly trying to impose their reality on others and it just doesn't work. There will always be an opposing view or take on that reality. I have my own, inner, personal reality and I also have that which I co-create with those around me - my family, my co-workers, friends and fellow internet users (the list goes on). My own inner reality is how it is, be it skewed, similar, in black and white or colour compared to any other. Just because it's different, doesn't make it wrong.

What is your take on reality?

Existentialism as a Tendency: Important Insights & Basic Shortcomings

An essay written for 'Existentialism and Beyond', second year studies, September 2001. I received a mark of 32/40.

"Let us endeavour to live that when we come to die
even the undertaker will be sorry."
-- Mark Twain --

"..[N]othing could be further from the existentialist attitude than attempts to define existentialism, except perhaps discussion about the attempts to define existentialism" (Solomon, 1987, p. 245). Generally, as indicated in the preceding quote, existentialists are not so much concerned with defining the external world or describing some objective reality with a view to arriving at 'the truth'. The focus of existentialism is on the individual, subjective human being (although discussion of existence within a community of sorts or in relation to others occurs in both Sartre and Heidegger's philosophies) and as such, philosophical precedents for 'existentialising' are not readily available, except for from other existentialists. Whilst some existentialists, for example, Heidegger and Sartre are concerned with phenomenological analyses of the being of humans in the world and in relation to the being of objects, the central focus is on discovery of what and who we are and therefore how we should live. To put it rather simply, existentialists are concerned with how we can derive meaning from life, being irrational humans in a rational world.

So, rather than being a coherent body of thought, the term 'existentialism' refers to a tendency - a particular focus and style of thinking that existentialists generally share. A 'coherent body of thought' could be said to be one that is grounded in a shared ideological perspective and that arrives at a common conclusion or set of conclusions, based on a foundation of shared facts and knowledge regarding a particular aspect of 'reality'. In contrast, the essential factor that ties existentialism together as a philosophy and allows us to call it such is its focus on the individual human being in an absurd world. There are no shared assumptions (other than the fact that we exist at all), nor is there necessarily any consensus as to what we are and how we should live.

As this essay unfolds, it will hopefully become clear as to why existentialism is not a coherent body of thought and why it is best described instead as a tendency or style of philosophising. In this essay, I will examine existentialist philosophy with a view to outlining general tendencies, commonalities and divergences that are found in the writings of existentialist philosophers. A particular focus is on the writings of Sartre (due to the fact that he first coined the term 'existentialism' in relation to his own work) and Heidegger, in comparison and contrasted with one another to illustrate the philosophy as a whole. Due to the wide range of existentialist writings available, it was deemed necessary to focus only on those of two thinkers and as another important existentialist, Heidegger seems an appropriate choice to broadly represent existentialist thought. The aim of discussing general tendencies, commonalities and divergences is not only to give an introductory outline of existentialism, but to pinpoint and illuminate the important insights of existentialist philosophy, as well as to critically discuss its shortcomings.

As stated above, existentialism is a philosophy that finds its starting point with individual human existence. In doing so, it has often been thought to represent a "spirit of the present age" (Solomon, 1987, p. 238) and human existence within a world that is oftentimes referred to as 'absurd'. This starting point is important and in a sense, revolutionary due to the fact that the majority of other (metaphysical and ontological) philosophies prior to existentialism, have focused their attention on trying to establish certain 'facts' about the external world as it is, without due attention to the individual that interprets and finds him/herself within that world. In other words, existentialists begin with human being(s) instead of nature and is "a philosophy of the subject rather than the object" (MacQuarrie, 1972, p. 2). Considering that it is through human eyes that the world is interpreted and all scientific exploration and discovery is hinged on our understanding, existential philosophising fulfills an important role in relation to science, the world and the reasons for the existence of philosophy in the first place. However, due to its subjective nature, existentialism does not provide a coherent set of central tenets that one may use to explain and simplify what existentialism is. Instead, existentialism is best described as a lens through which one may view human existence, that colours our experience and opens up future possibilities for action in light of what and where we are. The end result of existential philosophising is most often an approach to life or a recipe for living that is the logical outcome of the particular path taken by an existentialist. I think it is fair to say, however, that to provide a recipe for living is not necessarily the explicit intention of 'existentialising', rather it is simply the end result that only becomes apparent in following the writer's process.

A common binding element in existentialist writings is the conception of human existence as bound up in states such as despair, anxiety and angst, and the 'absurdity' of our existence in relation to the world. For the most part angst, despair or even terror arises in individual human beings feeling themselves to be separate from the world and other human beings. The existential attitude is one of confusion, disorientation and non-acceptance of the world (Solomon, 1987, p. 239). Existentialism is essentially a response to such feelings - an attempt at lessening their impact and at owning one's life, being responsible and 'authentic' in view of the reality without succumbing to 'absurdity'. In fact, it could be said that one of the lasting contributions of existentialism is its treatment of the emotional life of human beings and the claim that it is through emotions and feelings such as anxiety, boredom and nausea that we are "involved in our world and can learn some things about it that are inaccessible to a merely subjective beholding" (MacQuarrie, 1972, p. 5).

Most existentialists have derived a conception of freedom (absolute or otherwise) from these feelings and Sartre's 'despair' in relation to absolute freedom is a strong case in point. For Sartre, the prominent affect is one of despair - a feeling derived from his somewhat controversial conception of absolute freedom. According to Sartre, consciousness consists of nothing beyond that which it focuses on, that is, consciousness is always conscious of something (Jones & Fogelin, 1997, p. 371). Furthermore, there is no "I" or thinker behind the thoughts - a stance contrary to all that in the west is held dear. That consciousness is 'nothingness' is Sartre's absurdity (Jones & Fogelin, 1997, p. 365). With a definition of consciousness and 'the self' as such, the logical conclusion is that we are absolutely free to choose our actions and circumstances and to construct ourselves however we choose - and it is this that is for Sartre the cause of our despair, for in his words, being "condemned to be free" (Sartre, 1943: cited in Jones & Fogelin, 1997, p. 369) the potential for actions or choices in any given situation are limitless. However, curiously, not all human beings appear to be aware of their absolute freedom as surely it would take sincere reflection on the part of each individual in order to discover it, and it is certainly not taught to us as children. This in itself could be said to be a major shortcoming of Sartre's philosophy for whilst ideally we have absolute freedom, we do not live in an ideal world. Surely, in line with a conception of soft-determinism, our potential actions in a given situation are limited by previous choices that brought us to a particular point in the first place, by social convention (although this could be argued to be illusory) and by limits on a person's capacity for rational, or even creative thinking. One may also question the idea of absolute freedom in light of how much control we actually have over our own thoughts and feelings (which in a world of absolute freedom, thoughts must be a part) - and one does not seem to choose an existential attitude, instead "[o]ne finds oneself in it" (Solomon, 1987, p. 240). Does one choose 'insanity'?

Heidegger describes a different sense of the absurd or anxiety, in relation to death and temporality. Whilst Sartre does not make much, if any reference to that fact that we die (a significant omission for an existentialist), death is an axiomatic principle in Heidegger's philosophy. For Heidegger, death denotes an outer limit and accordingly, if it was not for the fact that our existence is finite, we would not be able to derive any meaning from our existence at all. Death is our 'ownmost possibility' in the sense that it marks the outer limit for our lives and we therefore have a responsibility and necessarily, we must recognise and accept this (Heidegger, 1962, p. 294). Death for most people causes a great deal of anxiety. As human beings we are unique in that we are (as far as we know) the only creatures aware of our mortality and the limited nature of our existence (Malpas, 1999, p. 57). A large part of scientific investigation focuses on this fact with a view to discovery of the secret to prolonging life or extending it indefinitely. However, according to Heidegger, this search is erroneous due to the fact that, as stated above, without death we would find no meaning in life. In understanding death we are able to focus on living - death makes it possible to focus on the here and now and that which is important - life.

The result of both Heidegger's and Sartre's existentialising are a 'right' way and a 'wrong' way to live. For Heidegger, these are a difference between being 'authentic' or 'inauthentic'. Authenticity is living life in such a way that one is individual and autonomous in relation to public opinion rather than unquestioningly melding with the social mass - 'das Man' or 'the One' in Heidegger's terms (Young, 1999, p. 112). Being authentic is also living with the certain knowledge that we are going to die - genuinely facing up to death - neither actively seeking it or tempting it, nor ignoring or denying it as a fact by becoming a 'function of the One' (Young, 1999, p. 117). However, according to Heidegger, human beings are mostly inauthentic, possibly due to an unwillingness to stray far from social norms and distance oneself from society and become other than 'average' (Young, 1999, p. 112).

Sartre's version of this is what he calls living in 'good faith' or 'bad faith'. Good faith is based on his idea of absolute freedom in that a person is living in good faith when he or she "in and through choices made on his or her own initiative, without adopting other people's standards or [simply] following their advice" (Jones & Fogelin, 1997, p. 367). So living in accordance with our knowledge of consciousness as nothingness and therefore being absolutely free to 'make' ourselves and choose our actions is according to Sartre, living in good faith. Bad faith is therefore denying that freedom and responsibility for one's actions and circumstances regardless of what they are - ultimately a denial of choice.

Commonalities in existentialism as a philosophy provide a foundation and are what make it important and insightful with respect to who we are, and how and where we find ourselves. The common themes most often found in existentialism relate to concepts of angst, absurdity, death and meaning, and of freedom and responsibility. The catchcry of "existence precedes essence" (originally from Sartre), meaning that we have no inherent essence beyond that which is determined by society - we find ourselves in the world first and then create or construct ourselves - provides an insight that no other philosophy or doctrine has offered. Existentialists generally expound what may be called a 'philosophy of being', with logical outcomes of existentialising which include authentic versus inauthentic existence, good and bad faith. At its worst, existentialism may push one further into the realm of angst and despair, where one realises with crystal-clarity the conditions in which one finds him or herself. At its best, existential thought is empowering - human beings defined as 'free' and 'responsible' agents opens up a world of possibilities and potential actions that one may take in order to live to the utmost and in line with the quote at the head of this essay.

Of its shortcomings, existentialism is: a) not a coherent body of thought; b) does not pay explicit attention to what I think is a major determining element in human action - belief (although in Sartre's 'nothingness', belief may be considered an implicit aspect, as well as in other existentialist writings). What I believe will determine how I act, what I think my possibilities are, how I understand my world and myself and ultimately the aspects of 'reality' that are presented to me. For these reasons, a thorough existentialist philosophy would include an explicit analysis of the role of belief in human life. Finally, c) the existentialist conception of authentic rather than inauthentic living can for the most part be considered an ideal. In practice, authenticity and good faith would take incredible discipline amidst day-to-day societal demands - a fact that is not denied by Heidegger or Sartre, both of whom agree that the human state is mostly that of 'fallenness' (Jones & Fogelin, 1997, p. 359).

BIBLIOGRAPHY

Heidegger, M. (1962). Being and Time, trans. J. Macquarie & E. Robinson, London: SCM Press.
Jones, W.I. & Fogelin, R.J. (1997). The Twentieth Century to Quine and Derrida. (3rd edn). Harcourt Brace.
MacQuarrie, J. (1972). Existentialism. Melbourne: Hutchison & Co.
Malpas, J. (1999). 'Heidegger: Earth and Sky, Gods and Mortals' in Freedom and Death, ed. M. LaCaze. Hobart: Pyrrho Press.
Solomon, R.C. (1987). From Hegel to Existentialism. Melbourne: Oxford University Press.
Young, J. (1998). 'Death and Inauthenticity' in Death and Philosophy, eds. J. Malpas & R. Solomon. London: Routledge.

What is Consciousness?

The following was what I wrote for a third-year undergrad Philosophy of Psychology assignment. I got 9.5/10 for it...

It is difficult to go beyond the idea that consciousness is simply the product of brain functioning, for arguments along such lines are compelling and hard to convincingly argue against. But surely consciousness is more than that. To start with, no-one has yet offered a satisfactory definition of what consciousness is, and yet most people agree that it exists (Guzeldere, 1995).

In discussing consciousness we often speak of different aspects or types of consciousness, for example in words and phrases such as 'subconscious' or 'altered consciousness'. Perhaps the act of focusing on its different aspects causes a loss of perspective that drowns out the bigger picture.

My consciousness appears to encompass my present (including awareness, sensations, physical location, etc), memories, feelings/emotions, what I pay attention to internally and externally (intentionally and otherwise), and how I process this information. I can only direct my attention to one thing at a time, but somehow manage to complete larger projects and perform complex operations - because in reality my 'consciousness' contains these many things at the same time.

Consciousness is a total awareness - "I" am consciousness. As that, I draw on a wide range of resources from the physical body in order to interact with and function in the world, including my brain and five (six?) senses. My consciousness is therefore the consolidation of all my experience in the world and as a living being.

REFERENCE
Guzeldere, G. (1995). 'Consciousness:What It is and How to Study It', Journal of Consciousness Studies, 2, No. 1, pp. 30-51.

The Hulk Freaked Me Out

The original movie, The Incredible Hulk, is full-on scary. Well, for me as an eight year-old it was anyway. I was in grade three at school and a girl from our class had a birthday party. She hired out a local movie theatre and invited everyone in our year to attend.

Little did I know, this party would affect the way I sleep for the next 10 years...

I was excited with anticipation at attending the party in the first place and can remember walking through the open doors to the cinema and shuffling in single file to find a seat. The movie started and I'm not sure I fully grasped the story, but it was about this guy who when he got angry, would turn into this angry green thing.

When the Bruce Banner turned into the Incredible Hulk by turning green and into this muscle-bound monster with his clothes all shredded, I totally freaked out. The girl whose party it was' Mum had to call my parents and tell them to come and get me. I missed out on the rest of the movie, but I remember being picked up and driven home with the feeling that life would never, ever be the same.

My parents spent a lot of time explaining that it was just a movie, but I don't think I quite got it. That night and from then on, up until about the age of 18 (eventually out of habit), I slept with the covers pulled up over my head with just my nose poking out so I could breathe. I was convinced the Hulk was coming for me. And I had to fantasize about nice things before I went to sleep in order not to panic, such as ferris wheel rides and carnivals.

More recently (like in the last year or two), I told Mum about how the movie and experience had affected me, and she said that she had had no idea at all, otherwise she would have done more to comfort me. But I kept it to myself.

I've since seen the recent remake of the movie and felt it was cathartic - like I had revisited a nightmare from my childhood and resolved it.

The Bored Artist, My Friend

This is a sketch I found in my friend's rubbish bin. I'm not usually one to go rummaging around in other people's bins, but it was something I spotted and fished out - one of the many examples of the brilliant artist she has the potential to become.

The image was apparently copied from a magazine, purely by eye, whilst she sat bored behind the reception desk at work. Yet, she doesn't enjoy it. Will attempt to interview her about her drawing some time, so watch this space.

I've fished strange things out of Jade's bin before... Once when I was visiting her on a hospital stay I found a pair of perfectly good jeans crumpled up and stuffed in the rubbish. Jade was in an adult psych ward due to 'Ice' (crystal amphetamine) use, having suffered a psychosis. On this particular occasion I asked her, "What are a perfectly good pair of jeans doing in the rubbish bin?" Her reply was that she didn't want to be a bee. She explained that they had a honeycomb pattern if you look for it, and that she was becoming a bee and she didn't want to. One couldn't argue with that. I wouldn't want to be a bee either really. Too much work.

Speaking of 'Ice', it's apparently fast becoming one of Australia's biggest drug problems, overtaking heroin for it's accessibility and low cost. However, it is imho, far worse and more frightening than heroin in the problems it causes, its addictiveness and affect on mental and physical health. 'Ice' is really scary stuff - don't touch it kids. For an in-depth look at the lives of some Australians addicted to 'Ice', you can view the documentary that aired on Australia's Four Corners, The Ice Age.

For more information about 'Ice' and some compelling reasons not to take it, click here.

RIP Solly

Solly was a lovely boy. His meow preceded him. Unfortunately he is no longer of this world and this post is dedicated to him.

Born in March, 1998, he was brought into a household of three other cats. He was tormented by them and tormenting to them. He loved plastic bags and belly rubs, cat toys and cotton buds. He made friends with the others eventually and had an extra special friend in Merly the cat (my housemate's).

We moved a number of different places over the years and Solly always found ways to make friends with the local neighbourhood cats and people. He was always vocal and had interesting stuff to say about his adventures. And adventures he had.

We moved to Hobart, Tasmania in 2000 and for the most part, Solly loved it. However, one of his adventures and life challenges was being hit by a car. I had been out and about and came home to be greeted by my next-door-neighbour who had taken him to the vet. Apparently he had been hit on the main road by a ute and left for dead. An elderly couple happened to be walking by (thanks to whoever you are!) and took it upon themselves to alert my neighbour.

He was at the vet for a week and I was advised that the best case scenario was that he would lose his tail, as he had a fractured pelvis. They weren't sure whether he could feel anything at his rear. I visited him every day and he always greeted me cheerfully, no matter the pain he was in. The vet said to me that it didn't look good and that I would just have to say the word and they would put him down. He couldn't pee on his own or poo, and they had to use a catheter and bladder massage to express him on a regular basis.

After that first week I took him home. There was no way I could have him put down. I cried and prayed (I'm not religious, but yes, I prayed) that he would recover. He could hardly walk. But eventually he got better and much to the vet's surprise and perplexion, he even got use of his tail back and no one was any the wiser.

About one and a half years later, I got sick (refer to previous posts on mental illness) and had to move back to Melbourne. Unfortunately I had to leave Solly behind as I was moving back with my parents and they already had two cats and so did I. As Winnie (my other beautiful cat) was the eldest and less adaptable, Solly was the one.

In leaving him behind, however, he had the best of best cat homes he could have had - living with my neighbour and friend, Allison. She is one of the most cat-loving people I know or have met and she sure did love him. I'm grateful to her for taking him on and I know they were close.

Sadly, in January of this year, Solly was yet again hit by a car and this time not so lucky. Apparently it was instant and he wouldn't have felt much. I missed him when he lived in Hobart and I in Melbourne, but I miss him even more now, knowing he's no longer alive.

Thanks Solly for having been a part of my life and I'll love you forever. RIP.

The following is Allison's contribution:

Solly died 8.30 pm on the 19th of December [2006], on Regent Street [Sandy Bay, Tasmania] by a young girl who was kind enough to collect his body for burial and then seek his owner out the next day. At first she went to the service station next door to put up a flyer about him, but they sent her to speak to me directly. She was very upset and I think a bit scared.

Solly's favourite food was Whitemeat Tuna in the Dine brand. His favourite interests were meowing, sleeping under the doona with his human in the late afternoon, flicking his tail, being loved and being cute. His favourite things were the old chair outside, the backyard over the road, and meowing, and meowing, and meowing.

His dislikes included loud music, diarrhea, and not getting his own way. Needless to say, he always got his own way (so there was never any loud music).

Solly was a connoisseur of water - I often observed drink from his water bowl in the kitchen, then move to his water bowl outside in the garden, and then go from blade of grass to blade of grass to lick the dew. Rain puddles were also considered a delicacy of the watery kind.

[Thanks Allison so much, for taking him on and taking such good care of him as I know you did. He had a good life. Hugs.]

Fundamentally Preoccupied

Just recently I've been riding a bit of a rollercoaster, starting early November when my partner of two years and I broke up. We had been living together but mid-year I went off both the anti-depressants and the anti-psychs and I kind of plunged into a depression that I found difficult to get myself out of. I realised a month or so later I shouldn't have gone off the anti-depressants at the very least (one tends to learn the hard way), and I went back on. But it was a bit late.

My partner (as much as I still care about her and we're still friends) found it difficult to cope with my lack of drive and motivation, particularly around the house and she ended the relationship.

Then, having gone back on the anti-depressants, things started to pick up. I managed to score a full-time job with a major call centre about 10 minutes down the road and started almost two weeks after I applied. It's a great environment with an excellent crowd and I'm really enjoying it. Considering I've never worked in a call centre before, it's a new experience and was a huge learning curve.

So anyway, there was that and then there was moving house - apparently one of life's most stressful events - up there in the top three anyway. Plus a close member of my family got sick (which I won't go into at this point). Because I had been advised after my second psychotic episode that I had to watch my stress levels, I was starting to worry that I might be headed for another one considering all that had been happening. I was very energetic to start with, which felt like borderline mania, couldn't sleep and was up at all hours. My head felt like I had plugged in to some sort of information download system and I was having trouble integrating everything that I was meant to.

Then, one day at work I thought I overheard a conversation taking place between my team leader and another team member that related directly to me. I still don't know whether the conversation actually took place, although evidence suggests that it did, but it freaked me out as it wasn't exactly positive. Essentially it went along the lines that the team member thought I was behaving erratically and that I might have been on drugs. My team leader suggested that perhaps I was but that they were legal ones. At that point, I got up, very nearly burst into tears and suggested the three of us go down for a cigarette.

Without giving too much information I informed them both of how stressed I had been and of some of the things that had been going on, and they both (thankfully) reacted really well and neither have treated me any differently since. Like I said, it's a good place to work. I've since gone back on the anti-psychotics as a preventative measure more than anything else, and I'll see where I'm at in a few months.

It hasn't always been the case that people have reacted well when I've discussed some of my mental issues, but I find that with honesty and openness, most people deal pretty well. I think so much of the stigma associated with mental illness comes from a lack of understanding and openness in talking about it and the media has a hell of a lot to answer to. Media representation of mental illness is getting better and films such as Proof (with Gwyneth Paltrow, Anthony Hopkins and Jake Gyllenhaal) doing much to dissolve some of the mysteriousness that hinders societal understanding of the experience.