Rereading the post from last night I am reminded very harshly of something; I cannot change the order in which I do things too drastically. I took my pills before writing my post, and it didn't work out. I'm in many ways forced into habits, and in order to fulfil the things I'd like to fulfil, I need to keep those habits. It's not entirely pleasant for me to realise this, but it is useful the know.
I've remarked strongly on the tyrrany of schedules, but there is something useful about them. Whether or not I like it, I am a slave to a certain form of schedule. I do have, at the very least, a school schedule and a medication schedule. That's quite a lot for someone who at his best would do little but read, write, and play music. When I wanted so badly to become a surgeon people were very surprised because I always seemed like such an easy going person. The strictness of the regimen and the amount of time required didn't seem to fit me. I would have done it for something I truly wanted to do.
The only reason that desire has gone by the wayside has been my mental illness. I've found some interesting things about me, and they all lead me towards wondering what our brains do and how they do it. Neuro-surgery was always an option as well, but it's so hack and slash. There's so little we truly know. When I tell people how I changed my mind I make it sound like a choice, a realisation that we don't truly understand the brain and that I am best meant to further that understanding. What actually happened was that I went mad, and the things that most interested me, the brain, the way it works, and how it sometimes doesn't, were all consuming. I of course found more interest in neuroscience the moment I started up school, so there was a measure of choice, but the way that madness drove me towards it is still important.
How many of my decisions have been driven by this malady that so haunts my days?
I can never know how my life would have progressed had I not been born with this madness. Had I not been the heir of the swing of mood and temperament, what might I have done? I can't know if my creativity would have been so apparent had I not been so driven to write and sing while manic. I can't know so many things.
I wish that my mind hadn't exacted such a price. Of course I can't worry about it too much. Shikataganai. It can't be helped. Shikataganakata, it couldn't have been helped.
Every day I write (in kana) shikataganai on my left wrist. It's where I can look at it, and see it when I play guitar, and when I turn my palm toward me. It is a good reminder that I can't have helped the things that have happened to me. I know there are some problems with simply accepting the world, and I do hold the world responsible for those things I can change, but there is so much I have no control over that having a reminder on my wrist is a good thing.
I plan to get it tattoed, because there is so much stuff that I cannot control, and besides the pleasure/pain aspect of actually getting a tattoo, having it written there every day has been useful to me. Having that reminder that I can't help certain things and I should accept that, without sorrow or joy, simply accept.
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1 comment:
Hi. I'm new to your blog. I have bipolar (manic-depression) also. I just started up a blog geared towards my mental illness. Take care~
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