Ideas2Words Words2Minds Minds2Action

A Change Gonna Come

Sam Cooke’s old song “A Change Gonna Come” is about the hopefulness of a Black American despite the sorrowful life available to him. I find the words are applicable to any situation in which a person must find hope in a better future despite all evidence to the contrary.

A Change Is Gonna Come Lyrics

I would like you all (what can I say? I grew up in Texas) to read Cherished79’s entry Handcuffed to My House. She did a great job of describing what I have been experiencing the last five weeks or so. Remember my descriptions of all the nearly catatonic days in Geneva? Two of the most common, and in my mind most painful, symptoms of major depression are anhedonia and psychomotor retardation. The first is simply the lack of desire for anything pleasureable (an = not, hedonia = pleasure, same root as hedonism). The later is motor retardation caused by mental dysfunction (as opposed to neurological or physical or t.v.). Suicidality is a mosquito bite compared to these two; sometimes it even seems like the key to the handcuffs.
-Ashley

I am a strong believer in evolution and, as such, I have always wondered why some of the deadlier mental illnesses have survived the weeding out process. I read one article that proposed a possible answer that also incorporates the link between creativity and madness (documented in very good studies, by the way).

I wish I could find the original article (it is probably one of Redfield-Jamison’s) because I’m going to give a 2nd grader version of the original thoughts. Oh well, better to get the idea out than to wait until I get organized! Just think of this as the trailer for an article you’ll want to find yourself. So, here goes:

Since mentally ill people are generally less concerned with staying “in the box,”* at least when they are most ill, they are more likely to see solutions to problems that others think are unsolvable. I’m thinking here of mania and hallucinations — I have no idea what benefits depression brings; maybe better designs for mattresses. What seems possible, even obvious, to a sick person is way out of bounds for normal people.

Regular Joe: “No, silly, we can’t get across this gorge. It’s impossible. Let’s just go around.”

Sick Joe: “Yeah, but what if there were two massive columns holding up enormously thick ropes that held other ropes, which held up long planks of wood … You’re right; that is stupid. I’m stupid. I have nothing to live for…” Sick Joe’s idea, later credited to Regular Joe.

Therefore, even though a very high percentage of these people end up killing themselves, their usefulness to society could have already been substantial. Maybe that’s also why chicks dig even the ugliest artists — to keep their creative qualities in the gene pool.

I find it interesting that sick people generally kill themselves after reaching sexual maturity, giving them just enough time to make some sort of contribution to society. A moment’s thought will yield the obvious biological explanation for this. I just think it is interesting how elegant evolution solves the problem of species optimization.

*In America, managers are always telling people to “think outside the box.” When we do, though, they quickly admonish you for not being realistic. “It’s all that book knowledge you depend on. You would have learned more if you spent that time working in the real world.” Days later, “Yes, sir. That was MY idea. My trusty employees checked out the numbers to make sure MY idea was workable…”

Does anyone remember the old Garrison Keilor song about a cat — all cats actually — that constantly changes its mind about wanting to be inside or outside?

“Well … I wanna go out.  Yes, the great outdoors is for me.  I’m just a wandering soul, that can’t be held down.

But … I wanna come in.  Yes, I know you missed me so.  I’ve been gone long enough, so I think I’ll hang around.

Now … It’s time to go out.  Yes, it’s time to see what’s new…”

Anyway, you get the drift.

The great thing about going in the front door, instead of through the ER, is that you can just ask to leave whenever the mood strikes you. 

So … I wanna go out.  Yes, I need to get these legs a movin’.  Time is passing by and I don’t want to miss the scene.

Well, I’m going to check myself in today.  The last couple of days have been pretty rough and I don’t know if I can make it through another lonely night.  I will talk to my doctor about doing only the partial program instead of the full day.  If you don’t hear from me for a while, you’ll know it was the latter.  And, if you don’t ever hear from me again, you’ll know I took the third option.

It’s funny, I started this blog with the handle “Suicidal No More” — optimism springs eternal, or was it just sardonic word play?  Either way, I can no longer continue the masquerade.  I’m still sick.  I guess I’ll always be sick.   That points to a question always in the back of my mind: who would want to live like this for the rest of their life?  I sure as hell don’t.  Is that the disease talking? Or simply the voice of reason?  I know what my doctor would say; what would you say — you who have been in the bog?

Thank you all for reading my silly little blog.  It really has meant a lot to me.

-Ashley