Her Stigma, My Love

Image result for nami new hampshire may is mental health month

Slight as it is, it is that breathable moment.

A blemish that is to be…

my lover’s crisis…

And, only my reverence by circumstance.

Anything I had to offer?

All makeshift and half understood.

A pocket of indulged loose change.

Yet, I hold no true understanding

I could never enter the game.

My lover’s deep compassionate brown eyes uncovering…nonnegotiable enemies.

Sporadic voices with meaningful names, ted, tuesday…holiday x.

Agile as a bad memory…running into view.

In a breathable moment

A lover’s reality can prolong your fool.imageedit_13_9124626990

 

the Scorn of Schizophrenia

John Nash, a Beautiful Mind; on Madness as a Release

People are always selling the idea that people with mental illness are suffering. I think madness can be an escape. If things are not so good, you maybe want to imagine something better.

Nash had won the Nobel Prize.  He was one of the great mathematicians of the our times.  He had been diagnosed with Schizophrenia

 

Brian Wilson, former Beach Boy.  Musician extraordinaire.  Many a music critic considering him one the best lyricist, stylist, composers…of our times.  Diagnosed with schizophrenia, the Beach Boy, found himself in the hands of a controlling, dictator, doctor.  As is common with misdiagnose, it took years for Mr. Wilson to find his way out from under the thumb of a common therapy…over-medicating.

 

Bettie Page, America’s one an only Pin-up girl.  Shunning the conventionality of the 1950’s by performing in ‘Adult’ films.  Bettie has had fans that span the last 6 decades.  Bettie battled acute schizophrenia beginning in the early 1970s.

“I could never tell anyone about what I was actually thinking.  When I did!  I found myself alone in a cement room with no windows.  Every voice I heard meant more time alone!”

-M. O’Shaughnessy

In most instances, the signs were there.  The delusions, the paranoia, the isolation.  Yet, as a society, we opt for ignorance.  And, if ignorance isn’t a stigma for mental health.  Indifference is.  Indifference to an early appropriate diagnose.  Indifference to a balance between therapy and medication.  Indifference to the silent signs being held out for, help!

 

Mental Health Reform

One thing that most Americans can agree on is that the mental health system is broken. In many parts of the country, mental health treatment, services and supports are not available until a crises occurs. In some communities, jails and prisons have become the default place for mental health treatment.

The facts make one thing clear: mental illness is a major public health crisis in the U.S. today. However, changes to our mental health system can help address this crisis.

– See more at: https://www.nami.org/Learn-More/Public-Policy/Mental-Health-Reform#sthash.whzpFQBd.dpuf

 

Mental Illness is not a decision.  Ignorance is the true disability!


My spouse, who is diagnosed with schizophrenia, is an active, productive, member of society.  It is through her personal triumphs, distant voices, distant rooms, that I have been encouraged.  Encouraged to not shy away from what I do not understand.  Her struggles with mental health has become her greatest adversary.  It is by her brave honesty that we can begin to open closed minds.

the Mental Health Closet: Speak 4 Those Who Can’t

She is my silence and I am her voice
She is my silence and I am her voice

To live extravagantly amongst mental illness is to know the other shoe will drop and still have the willingness to move forward.  In the eleven years that I have had the privilege to embrace the woman who has made Picasso paintings seem more palatable and random non -descript voices a thing of routine…I’ve learned to give up the ghost that resides within us all.

Is it a tainted  beautiful mind that has fallen upon my ignorant and lacking in silence form?  Is it indeed I who has found her short comings to be something of a comically sexy sight?  Isn’t I who has let go of the hidden glances and the closeted nuances that are the make-up to a dis-ability?  Or,  SHE who has been bullied by imagined but oh, so real fear…it is she that raises the bar to who I am and who I could be?  Most likely so…she is an angel that has fallen too close to the ground and I am wrought with menacingly bad chivalrous misdirected motions when the voices come to call.  But I would quiver again to fight the monsters under her bed.  She is my silence and I…I am her voice.

Yet, to the world and it’s politely politically incorrect masses…WE, ME and SHE are but a deposited brush fire slightly out of control and always containable and invisible to the untrained eye

Possibly a trip to Waterloo.  A place of stolen good memories and niche in the woods of our anti social life amongst the earth people.  Just the slightest chance can arise in this the  vacant moments of what should be important in life.  It is these times when the breach of ‘let’s not talk about that today’ contracts, where many advocates for the advanced beyond human kindness lot, may hear the pleas from the co-pilot to plights of the misunderstood.

Never have I thought my other soul to be disabled.  Only have I begun to see that the breath she breaths is weightless and her song an out of step but lighter than air malady of melodies.

Love's infinity...8
Love’s infinity…8

Oh what the hell she saysI just can’t win for losingAnd she lays back down
Man there’s so many timesI don’t know what I’m doin’.  Like  I don’t know now
By the light of  the moon, she rubs her eyes.

Says  it’s funny how the night can make you blind. And I can just imagine.

And I don’t know what I’m supposed to  do.  But if she feels bad then I do  too.  So I let her be
And she says ooh I can’t take no  more.  Her tears like diamonds on the  floor.  And her diamonds bring me  down.  Cause I can’t help her  now.
She’s down in  it.  She tried her best but now she  can’t win.  It’s hard to see them on  the ground.  Her diamonds falling  down, way down
She sits down  and stares into the distance.  And it  takes all night.  And I know I could  break her concentration.  But it  don’t feel right
By the light of the moon, she rubs her eyes.  Sits  down on the bed and starts to cry.  And there’s something less about her
And I don’t know what I’m supposed to do.  So I sit down and I cry too.  But  don’t let her see
And she says  ooh, I can’t take no more.  Her tears  like diamonds on the floor. And her  diamonds bring me down.  Cause I  can’t help her now.
She’s down  in it. She tried her best but now  she can’t win.  It’s hard to see them  on the ground.

Her diamonds falling  down
She shuts out the  night. Tries to close her  eyes.  If she can find  daylight.  Then she’ll be alright,  she’ll be alright Just not  tonight.
And she says ooh, I  can’t take no more. Her tears like  diamonds on the floor.  And her  diamonds bring me down. Cause I  can’t help her now.
She’s down  in it.  She tried her best but now  she can’t win.  It’s hard to see them  on the ground.  Her diamonds  falling down.
Ooh, I can’t take no  more.  Her tears like diamonds on the  floor.  But her diamonds bring me  down.  Cause I can’t help her  now.
She’s down in  it.  She tried her best but now she  can’t win.  It’s hard to see them on  the ground.  Her diamonds falling  down
I can’t take no  more.  Diamonds on the  floor.  No more, no more, no  more. Diamonds falling  down.

Not too long ago…I found my partner with her diamonds on the floor….like I had so many times before.  Crying from with in the devil had her and she knew it was a game she wouldn’t win.

It’s hard to know that a piece of a puzzle will be missing.  No matter the pills, no matter the shrinking of the past, no longer on occasion are the voices set down in her.  The voices eventually always come around…

her diamonds
Sometimes the distance can take all night