Final Blog

Fall Semester 2014

            This one was a rough one, probably the toughest semester since entering college a few years ago. Part of this struggle was academics and the other life. If it weren’t for the strong mind that has been getting finely tuned over the years, a solid as steel and hot as molten lava girlfriend, I may have a more difficult time. I sure as hell won’t say “given up”, it’s not me, no trace in my DNA. I have cursed, done many a sigh, ran an extra mile to blow off some steam but I will not quit. I had death visit me a couple of times as I said goodbye to loved ones. I am dealing with a life and death situation yet again for a family member who is still in his teens. This hurts. Do these cases of adversity build character or just shred your emotions before throwing them up? This is the first time in my life where I have said that I don’t have the answer, multiple times. Still, I get out of bed and face the day, sometimes knowing full well that once I turn on my phone after breakfast that I was going to cry. I was a hard man some years ago but not so much anymore. I feel worn and tired, though I do appreciate every breath that I have. I know death can be quick or long and painful but it is an end. An end to times that we can smile back and forth, hoot and holler down a river or bodysurf the waves in the Atlantic. Memories are painted in my mind and when I try and distract myself from one loss, another one appears. I have heard whispers in my ears from the voices that were carried in bodies no more and they have helped heal my heart. I won’t forget, I don’t forget and I will yell your names at the top of my lungs when I get to those places, our special places.

            

Broken brains, and the like

          I'm kind of a creep, and I'm interested in things that make other people vomit. Last night I was watching an episode of Criminal Minds before bed-- because that's always a great idea-- and this particular episode was about a German dude who kidnapped two (really three, but that first dead body didn't count!) grad students and did medical experiments on them. Most of the experimentation had to do with high-tech monitoring of situations by implanting small cameras in the eyes of the victims, as well as performing lobotomies on the victims. Of course one of the victims gets away and the BAU gets shit figured out, but I started to lose interest in the episode after that because I started thinking about what narratives could exist or could be created that tell the story of outdated modes of medical treatment.
          I read a book a couple of years ago called The Rules of the Tunnel: My Brief Period of Madness that was the story of the author's experience with electroconvulsive therapy-- and this book was written and published less than five years ago. The author, Ned Zeman, struggled with clinical depression and crippling anxiety, and after spending years going from therapist to therapist and medication to medication, he looked into the "treatment of last resort," shock therapy. This ultimately resulted in both retrograde AND anterograde amnesia, meaning he couldn't remember much of what had come before shock therapy, and he also struggled to make new memories after shock therapy. As a journalist, Zeman sought out the story of what had happened to bring him to that point by talking to friends, family, coworkers, and through his personal notes, and was able to create a book that dealt with memory, mental illness, and what it means to be a writer.
          There were also moments where he points out the history of famous writers and adventurers who sought extreme treatment for similar afflictions, but he doesn't use them as examples of what not to do, but instead they become his guides out of hell. In The Rules of the Tunnel Zeman shows what modern stories and experiences can add to the narrative of medical treatment-- especially those considered outdated.
          Lobotomies, shock treatment, and bloodletting (among so many other "treatments") don't traditionally have first-person accounts of how these procedures effected the people that received them. I'm wondering if that is because of the potentially awful side-effects of these things, or maybe it's because we as humans don't like to admit failure. More likely, it comes down to the stigma of mental illness, where narratives are discounted because of a condition that is pitied, or feared, or misunderstood. I think it's our job as writers to bring these stories to the page, and to recognize the importance of narratives that counter traditional societal ideals.
          If anyone knows of any pieces that fit this theme, I would love to know. Otherwise, here's a link to Ned Zeman's site: http://therulesofthetunnel.com/index.html.