Month: August 2014

The experience of time of an academic/parent

Thank you for sharing.

Between Sympathy and Detachment

Writing is a form of therapy – Graham Greene

Anxiety and guilt are the two dominant emotions in my endless agonisations over how I spend my time.  In my academic life, I suffer anxieties about not using my time effectively or productively enough.  In my life as a parent, scheduling is unavoidable, but one of its side effects is that I am usually anxiously racing or watching the clock, and therefore out of sync with my very much immersed-in-the-present infants, a fact which makes me feel guilty.

At work, my experience of time is often as follows: I’m sitting at my computer.  I have my Outlook account (my work email) open.  Sometimes I try to ‘Work offline’, but I never seem able to manage it for long.  On top of the general compulsion to receive correspondence as soon as possible, often there’ll be something more specific I’m waiting for: a…

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OCD and Insight

Thank you for sharing.

ocdtalk

by smarnad, freedigitalphotos.net by smarnad, freedigitalphotos.net

Before my son Dan was diagnosed with obsessive-compulsive disorder, I had little to no experience dealing with people who suffered from mental illness. My preconceived belief was that those who had brain disorders didn’t really understand, or have insight into, what was “wrong” with them. They needed to see a professional who would know how to treat them with the right type of therapy and/or medication, and maybe try to help them understand their illness a little. I believed therapy was something done to people, not with them.

Why did I think this way? Where did it come from? These might be questions best answered in another post. The bottom line is I could not have been more wrong. In fact, in light of what I have learned about people with brain disorders over the last eight years or so, my assumption seems ludicrous. I’m even embarrassed…

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A natural Drunkenness

Thank you for sharing.

Gemini's Lament

I’ve had a damn good day as it’s progressed, but suddenly I’m feeling far gone as I write this. Between my innate psychological problems and the side effects of antipsychotic medications, there’s no longer any certainty as to the cause of all my episodes. I often can discern between good ol’ biology and the consequences of medication, but when I get this far gone my judgement goes with it. Whatever it is. My sanity. My bag of bloody marbles. I’m lucky if this will make any since.

I spent a week in a state mental hospital where medication was practically shoved down my throat. It was too much. I degenerated to a shadow–or more like a poltergeist. I don’t want to live my life that way. Now I am free to medicate as I please. I understand most pharmaceutical treatments for schizophrenia involve won or a few pills administered daily

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