I’ve Had it!

… with the system! No more battling and getting the wool pulled over my eyes. In other words: No to the new health plan. No to psychotherapy, no to EMDR. I’ve wasted six years of my life only to find what I’ve known before: That there is no known cure to symptoms of post-traumatic stress, only accepting their presence and dealing with the outcomes. I’ve been there, I’ve done that. And successfully so in that I’ve managed to have a life. I even stood my ground in a highly competitive borderline shark pit industry for quite some time. The conclusion from that period of my life shouldn’t be that I can’t do it due to a disability – and that’s what (C-) PTSD is, whether acknowledged as such or not… yet! -, but that I did! I haven’t only sustained myself there, I held leading positions both in corporations as well as in a self-employed manner. What the heck have I been whining about for the past years? Yes, I lack the satisfaction of basic needs during my upbringing, yes, I’ve been subject to major abuse, yes, I got degraded, belittled, singled out, beaten, humiliated – by people, who should have done the exact opposite of that. The only new thing – or so it appears to me – is that I’m not alone in and with that. That there are many more, whose past holds agonizing, horrific memories of sane boundaries crossed in cruel and mean ways, apt to crush a developing young person’s heart and spirit. And that is what happened again and keeps happening while I’ve been sitting here for six long years contemplating over just how I might fix the damages endured. And you know what? I can’t. Ugly and devastating things happened to me as they happened to others and there is not one other single thing I can do about that than this: Accept that my past and hence its outcomes differs from the majority of “happy campers”. In fact, I’ll probably never be a “happy camper” at large or for extended periods of time, at least not in the traditional sense. But then, in a day and age, where we’re all engulfed by insanity of seemingly unprecedented degree that borders on ideations of organized euthanasia (mass murder) and has some suspect an underlying world domination conspiracy – b.t.w. it’s much simpler, folks…, the word is “economic hegemony” -, in such times it appears to me that being a “happy camper” equals ignorance. And to be honest – I can’t tolerate the latter. Being slow, being naive, being simple – all those are fine by me. But ignorance is inexcusable if you asked me, where there is Google and wikipedia and petabytes of information travelling around the globe every two days! (that is all of the information created from the dawn of man until 2003 according to this article).

So, well roared, Lion. Now what? Well – claiming control again. Ugh. What else? I’m cornered in from all sides with the back against my wall given the impossible make of the system in my country, where you are faced with 5 new problems for one “solution” and where technically speaking I am done. I had hoped for more recovery along the lines of my emotional being, for closer access to whom I should have and could have originally been, so I might eventually become like most other people and blend in and no longer have to stand out. I no longer think that this can happen and in all candor, I’m not even sure I want this to happen any more. After all, I have persevered despite my grave injuries and become someone. In other words: Under all the muck of perpetration, neglect that often felt and still feels like plain disdain for the little person in me, despite all this an adult emerged and made his way through life – and not exactly unsuccessful for the larger part, if I might humbly add. True – the current outcomes couldn’t be more devastating and color me “loser” according to traditional criteria. But then – those criteria were put in place by other people. Politicians, lobbyists, clergy, in one word: Criminals! Why would I strive to be like them? Why would I make an effort to abide by the skewed logic they put in place for the rest of us so we might be obedient slaves to the system? Why would I feel the need to help them perpetuate a system of mass abuse, deprivation and murder? In other words: By some ironic twist of fate, I seem to find that having survived child abuse and oppression I now find myself up against another perpetrator: The powers that be. So why not regard the coping skills I have found for myself as most useful tools to withstand a much more powerful perpetrator? I am aware that this sounds crazy – or probably is according to the medical consensus. Ideations of grandeur would probably be the diagnosis regarding this last paragraph. Well… alright. But I’m not stupid. I’m not saying I was now setting out to change the world. I cannot change the world, only myself and those around me – or those crossing my path, if I’m lucky. I’m not stupid – or naive any longer, for that matter. I don’t even want to change the world, as I don’t feel a part of it to begin with. “Them” can change or mess up whatever they want – I can’t be bothered.

Truth is – I don’t have a clear idea where I’m headed any more. Or where my place is, let alone such a loaded concept like “purpose”. I’m rather circling in on the realization that human consciousness is a cruel side effect of evolution. We’re all probably too much mammal to know what to do with this thing called consciousness. After all, if you looked closely, what is the nature of happiness to begin with? It’s when our basic needs are all fully met and saturated. Then we’re happy and not from having reached a goal or from having realized a dream. That’s all bullshit meant to coerce us into exploiting ourselves even more willfully and effectively than any boss or leader in politics could. Eat, drink, sleep, reproduce. That’s it. That’s what we’re concerned with at the core of our existence. The rest is all make belief.

But for better or worse – that’s what I’m left with. Make belief. Or rather: Self delusion. Lying to myself. Having myself believe that by meeting this or that “goal” I had become happy – when I’m not. Truth is, I will never be happy, because too much damage happened too early in order for happiness to even be in the picture for me. I probably wouldn’t even be able to tell happiness, if it walked up to me and grabbed my nose as I – have never experienced true happiness. I don’t even know what it feels like. How then can I know what I’m looking for – or tell it when I’m coming across it? I have no idea, what happiness feels like, I might as well forget looking for it. So I better no longer fuzz over that concept. It was lost on me before I could have known exactly what I lost. And lost for good. I better face it and “man up” to it as the less sensitive witnesses of my random ramblings often suggested. But – they have a point. Seriously. That’s probably the only thing left to do for me. At least I don’t see, how I could possibly make any more progress on the road I have embarked on some time in 2007, when I thought to find something new under rocks I had not turned to look under. And now I have. And I found…. nothing.

(Moving to a different place to have some privacy back is next. Then resuming some routine I had previously established for myself. And hanging on to that for dear life. There’s nothing else.)

P.S. If I sounded bitter – yes, I am. Fighting bitterness should keep me busy. I wager I got enough to be concerned with in doing that.

P.P.S. I didn’t mean to offend anyone personally in sounding ungrateful. I just seem to find I have exhausted my tolerance for humiliation and frustration. The system keeps pounding all that scorched earth of abuse that is meant to left be, so it may eventually heal. And that has me think I need to find a better way than this approach. Just can’t think of anything I’d be confident enough about and long term so.

Music as a healing “device”

A recent post on Kimberly’s excellent blog and precursor to a book in the making reminded me of other discussions I had online about the healing qualities of music. In my reply I intended to drop a link to sources that document the neurologically manifested effects music has on the brain, with particular regard to patients suffering from mental illness and/or trauma. Unfortunately, I didn’t have them at hand, so for starters I did a quick Google search and these two sounded promising.

This is Your Brain on Music and The Brain. Its Music and its Emotion. The Neurology of Trauma.

update: OK, I found the video I had in mind before posting this. It comes with a little warning re: emotional impact this might have on some. It’s pretty intense…

In addition to the above links, I’ve come across a number of articles that suggest that music can have a lasting beneficial effect on patients suffering from pathological neuronal processes of some kind. As far as I remember, researchers trace this back to what they call neuroplasticity, which – in a nutshell – is the brain’s ability to change physical shape based on neuronal activity in its various areas and hemispheres. Interestingly, another article I also happened upon not too long ago, seems to give evidence of this by reporting, how Albert C. Einstein’s brain was shaped considerably different than those of most people. In particular the folding of grey matter in his brain was of much higher complexity than with regular people.

As my own approach to self-healing didn’t start out in as organized a manner as Kimberly’s and as I have been hesitating whether or not my own research might amount to something worthy of sharing, I haven’t stored them all in one, easy to recover place. Shame on me, and here’s a New Year’s resolution: Get organized even some more 🙂