I came across this plaintive little piece in a newsgroup on various pharmaceutical remedies for mental illness. I was struck by the fact that the man is an ex-marine, something he assumes should convey an image of power and integrity, but for me means nothing more than the cloak of institutional authority we append to schools for killers.
I was also thinking about the fact that our society, cruising along at this hysterical pace towards some kind of elusive manifestation of nirvanic technopoly... seems to be casting more and more casualties to the side.
It's by a guy named Jim. He blames everything for his troubles, except that which is most directly before him and least obvious to him: our narcissistic culture of instant gratification and the mindless pursuit of wealth. He feels left out, lonely, and isolated. His problem is that he has become reflective and thoughtful. He thinks he should have some sense of purpose here, but he can't question the assumptions that betray him, because he is so much the product of those very assumptions. So he tries the medications....
From a Christian perspective, it seems we are sent here on earth, to fail. We have our little victories, but inevitably we fall short of the grace of God. I think once we admit this, that we cannot fulfil all greatness, perhaps we can have a better perspective about going on with life. I have a disorder which has most recently been downgraded to bi-polar provisional. This because depression takes hold of me much more often than the manic high that we long for. I may have had this much longer than the past five years but was unaware because everything is relative-normalcy is only defined by those around us. I have done things that my ex-wife considered crazy, but from my point of view were, perhaps, necessary evils (I threw my landlord out once after warning him three times to leave) We all make our choices-whether we are in control of our faculties at the time of event seems to be the distiguishing factor of our sanity.
I was a recon Marine during the Gulf war. I was raised in utter poverty by a social outcast and an overbearing
mother. I speak my mind as Marines do, but am not accepted in this practice by civilian people. I uphold a personal
code of honor and integrity, but we live among those who do not. In my quest for truth and integrity-I become
branded as strange. My wife has left, but she was never a very good person anyway. Her heart is cold and selfish.
So....what do the afflicted do to lighten the burden even in the face of suicide as perhaps our only means of escape
from the madness. I wish I knew. It is the fear of destoying my beautiful children's lives by taking my own life that
keeps me going-one step from homelessness, one step from jail, one step from insanity. I have no friends, though I
consider myself a very nice guy. Strange as it seems, people consider me very good looking and well built too, but
my personality seems to scare them off- though few if any people will offer a reason for their hurried departure. We
live together but alone. I envy those who have close, good hearted friends. We all need them. AFter many different
medications, I have begun to think that not only is there no cure to this thing, but no real relief either. We ride
'em high and ride 'em low and just hope we're still breathing when the dust settles. Best of luck and God speed to all of us
who suffer.
