Tag: mental illness

Weird Question Thursday

~ humoringthegoddess ~ Leave a comment

I had so much fun with my first Weird Question Thursday that I decided to try it again this week. Lucky you!

But what sort of weird question should we ask? Weird questions that are embarrassing? Questions that are cosmic? Questions about abstract theorists, conspiracy theorists, or, better yet, abstract conspiracy theorists?

I have always been fascinated by big words. Big theories. Things I know nothing about. And even when I research big words and theories and read about them, I still don’t understand half of them . But it makes me feel intelligent in a weird sort of second-hand Freebird way.

Weird questions are not like asking if there is a God or who you are voting for in the Presidential Election. Weird questions are much more nebulous. Weird questions often don’t have simple answers. Which makes them enjoyable.

Here is one of my question-the-universe blogs from August 4, 2022 talking about Evil.

 

The Weird World of Evil

I’d like to do a little speculating, a little exploring, a little wondering today. Come play me……

Let us first clear the way with this  miserable disclaimer just so we can talk:  I am not challenging anyone’s faith, doubting anyone’s truths, nor making sport of anything sacred, eternal, or inspirational. 

The movie Solomon Kane begins:

There was a time when the world was plunging into darkness and chaos
A time of witchcraft and sorcery.
A time when no one stood against evil.

Now you know me. I like to play with ideas and words and dreams. And the beginning words of this movie made me wonder. What exactly is evil? Was evil an entity to be defeated? What turns people into evil creatures? 

Let’s leave out the devil for a moment. The Prince of Darkness, Antichrist, and Diabolus, too.

Evil begins as a state of mind. A state of emotional instability.

Now. most of us are emotionally unstable now and then. Many of us are questionable, period. But we don’t turn evil — we don’t kill or maim or abuse. We don’t haunt or terrorize or cause irreputable damage to minds or bodies. Babies aren’t born evil. I don’t believe there is a code in one’s DNA that says “this one is evil.”

So where does it come from?

Is it bred into someone from birth? Is it manifested by abusive parents or negative sensations or  bullying at school? Is it a result of a bruised ego? A broken heart? An unbearable pain?

An alien aural presence?

Hitler was an evil man. His part in World War II contributed to over 42 million deaths (and that’s a conservative estimate).  Was he evil because he merely wanted to keep the species pure? Genghis Khan (1206–1227)  was reported to have killed upwards of 40 million people building the great Mongol Empire. Did he manifest all that evil just to be the boss? An estimated 30-40 million Chinese died as a result of Mao Zedong’s repeated, merciless attempts to create a new “Marxism–Leninism” China. Was he evil because he wanted all of his people to think alike?

Then there’s small time evil. Ted Bundy. John Wayne Gacy. Jeffrey Dahmer. Columbine. Sandy Hook. Uvalde. The list could fill — does fill — pages in the history books. 

See what I mean? 

These people were the personification of evil. Self-centered, single-minded, selfish, steadfast mental cases. Yet they seemed perfectly sane to those around them.

Were they evil? Or merely misinformed? Misguided?

I often wondered why Sauron wanted to rule all the people in Middle Earth in Lord of the Rings. Or Daenerys Targaryen in Game of Thrones. Fiction is just as full of evil doers who want to rule and don’t mind killing half the population to get their way. Was it for the money? For the fame? For slights against their character, real or imagined?

Evil is not the thing of sorcerers and demons. It is a human-bred mental illness that spreads from the host to those around them.

Evil is so much more complicated than black and white statements. It doesn’t come from talismans or mirrors or crypts or buried crosses. Evil doesn’t arise from spells or enchantments or curses. It is much more personal. Which makes it much more real.

You have to admit, evil is one of those esoteric topics that never really have an explanation or reason. 

Where do you think evil comes from?

 

 

 

 

 

 

Life is But a Memory

~ humoringthegoddess ~ 6 Comments

flowerMost times I try and keep the flow of this blog upbeat — there are so many positive things in this world, I just can’t sit idly by and let them pass me without dipping my toe in their pools.  But, as many of you know, there are a lot of sad things out there, too. Some things we can change, others we can only deal with.

A good friend at work was telling me her story about her grandmother who was slipping into full-fledged dementia. K said she could see it coming for over two years, but many in the family did not (or chose not to see). Dementia comes in many ways; it slips in uninvited and refuses to leave. How and when it affects their chosen hosts is more up to Fate than choice.

Our conversation was more from her grandmother’s point of view — did she recognize her children? Did she know her grandaughter? Moreover, was she upset that she “should” know these people but just…didn’t?

Seeing a loved one go through irreversible illness is heartbreaking. Young people with inoperable cancer, friends lost in senseless car accidents, all are part of our lives that we truly have no control over. Every one of those experiences change people’s lives forever. Those who survive hurt the most, and have the hardest time accepting and moving on. But we do. We have to.  But Dementia is a gradual experience. You are alive and thinking and reasoning one minute and you are forgetting things the next until one day you don’t remember what you’re supposed to remember.

Back to Grandma.  K told me this was her first experience with anyone she knew slipping into the grey of tomorrow, and wasn’t sure how to handle it. I, in my naive way, told her that as long as her grandmother was “happy” with her every day life, as long as she was relatively healthy and alert, that was the best you could ask for. The hurt, the pain and confusion usually come from our inability to accept the fact that we’re not a part of their memory any more.

Which leads me to today’s thoughts. I wonder what the world seems like from inside a dementia patient’s head. I have heard they see and talk to people long dead, or remember 50 years ago as if it were yesterday. Does that frighten them? Does it matter to them? Often patients don’t remember their kids, their grandkids. Do they feel guilty about that? Are they sad about that? Or does it not matter in their emotional scheme of things?

I find it fascinating that, at least at the beginning, K’s grandma talks normally about day-to-day things: who she talked to (even if they are no longer on this Earth), what she did this morning. She mixes up nurses and nieces, but still processes information the same way.  It’s as if her reality is real, yet different. To her, her brother dead 15 years really sat next to her bed and talked about little things. What’s the big deal about that?

I don’t know if that’s good or not. Or whether the word “good” is even appropriate here.

People with wild imaginations also talk to people who don’t exist. Even as a writer, I find myself wandering off on a mental tangent through my character’s mind, the end having nothing to do with her/his life — or mine. I suppose the difference is that I can come back to today and know I went on a mental adventure. Dementia patients do not.

I did not wander through the Internet, looking for symptoms or shared experiences. I didn’t want the distractions to change my feeling quite yet. I have these fears and thoughts because I sometimes wonder if that’s my fate down the line. I adore my kids, my grandson, my husband and friends. The thought of having all this love inside of me fade away because I don’t remember them hurts more than I can say.

This blog has been brewing for a few days, and I wanted to hear your take on these things. Have you gone through this sort of separation? Do you know of blogs or websites that share these kinds of experiences without becoming a panic attack?  If you do, please share. If not, don’t worry. I’m sure you have experiences of other depths that you might share one day.

And no matter what, experience and explore and remember as many new things as you can while you can. For I can’t believe it doesn’t matter in the memory of your soul.

Which is all that matters in the end.