Saturday, 17 September 2011

Message In A Bottle

To my imaginary viewers:

If you have the inclination to follow my blog posts, this is the place to start – not with the most recent blog. That said, I can only imagine that it would be of interest only to those who would want to comment on my state of mind. Those of you in my imaginary audience viewing this first blog post of a literary disjointed play consisting of many scenes and asides would, I imagine, include psychiatrists, psychologists, psychotherapists, counsellors, alternative health practitioners, Christian evangelists, Buddhists, psychics , ‘do-gooders’, police (why not?) and any other imaginary ‘position-holder’ viewers who would wish to ‘fix’ me, help me, advise me, or otherwise tell me how I need to get a life or just visit my GP for some anti-depressants. No doubt some viewers would suggest I may as well end my life now and be done with it.

If you’re feeling depressed I strongly suggest you don’t get involved in reading this blog – I don’t want to be responsible for remotely-assisted suicide (no doubt a future addition to DSM version X). But it’s probably a little early for that in the UK legally. If I were living in the US I may have thought twice about writing along these lines in public as it’s possible I could be locked up by some kid’s lawyer of a Father as fall-out from within the US as it mercilessly moves towards the Fascist American Dream State it’s slipping into.

So, all you professionals and non-professionals out there stumbling across this blog - you’re all welcome to post your responses as I take my clothes off and blog my life – it may at least amuse me and lift my state of mind, even though it may repel you. How long the blog lasts however is a catch-22 question. I’m not particularly good at constancy or seeing things through to the end, which I’m sure you can appreciate given my state of mind. At least there will be some humour in it – that I can guarantee. As for any dark secrets, scandal or crime – you’ll be disappointed because I don’t have anything particularly scandalous to reveal. CBS wouldn’t find anything in here for it’s 48 Hours Mystery column. As for insight – you can be the judge of that.

Here we go - this morning’s state of mind:

I’m 53 and I woke up - as is usual these days - feeling negative, useless, worthless, anxious, chronically anti-social and alone, a waste of space, unmotivated, and wanting to die - quietly, without anyone noticing that I had existed, and without physical pain. In case you’re wondering if I’m exaggerating for effect, I’m not. What’s the point in bullshitting? There’s more than enough of that flying around the world and I want no part of it.

The irony in writing all that of course is that I already feel better because I’ve taken some action and done something. Hold onto those italics, they’re a clue to something significant.

As this blog is about taking my clothes off and laying bare my entire life for potentially millions of people to witness (God help them) there will be no embellishment or falsification in what I write. Johann Hari of The Independent could learn a thing or two from this blog, probably more than he would by taking unpaid leave to study journalism again- a very long route in attempting to fathom the meaning of the word ‘integrity’ which quite frankly can be done in less than one minute by consulting a dictionary. Studying journalism again is his choice but I can’t help thinking he’s doing it because he’s been exposed as a fraud and needs to continue earning a penny from damn good writing despite his huge need for approval that led him to betray the ethics of his profession. I hope I’m wrong and he earns a qualification in Integrity and thereby begins to earn his pennies.

...and that’s the rub isn’t it? As humans, we are so complex, and yet we are so simple at the same time. What do I mean? An example: This year, having been unemployed since last November, I decided to devote myself to creating a wonderful garden with my partner – yes I live with other people, a family – and so your initial perception of me as I started to take my clothes off in the first paragraph was possibly of someone who is living alone. The relevance of gardening for me in the context of humans being both simple and complex lies in the perception of a plant from germination to death. The seed germinates, it flowers, fades and dies. Simple to observe. But within that simple arc of birth life flowering decay and death lies a huge complexity of light, weather, climate (and climate change), soil, nutrients, accidents and in the realm of gardening - human care. In sum - the realm of nature and nurturing. No difference then to the arc of conception to death for a person, except of course we have consciousness, a crucially different order of complexity to other forms of life.

But I’m veering off into other realms and this blog is about me, my life, my consciousness, my mess of consciousness, my narcissistic need to write about me, so that will be enough veering off for now or I might forget myself and get lost in life. And that would mean you, dear imaginary viewer, would have to go off and find something else to occupy yourself with. And that wouldn’t do. Even someone writing on a desert island writes in the hope that (s)he would be noticed.

You see how complex we are? I started this blog writing how I felt so useless worthless and intrinsically alone, and so obviously I want an audience. Why? Because an intrinsic reason for existence, amongst others, is to feel that we belong somewhere, connected to others, both feeling valued and able to value others. You may protest and say some people are incapable of valuing others. I say this is wrong perception. There is hope even for the psychopath – in a world where resources could be appropriately channelled into nurturing. And this is why the death penalty is fundamentally wrong. There is always hope for change. So I write my blog as if it were a message in a bottle. And a message in a bottle is both an invitation and a request for a response, however remote the possibility - because there is always hope.

I woke up at 5.50am and it’s now 9.55am and I’m feeling better already.