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HereSince1628's Journal - Archives
Posted by HereSince1628 in General Discussion (1/22-2007 thru 12/14/2010)
Wed Nov 17th 2010, 01:39 PM
Do you and I mean to insult and discourage the mentally ill when we refer to our opponents as having one or more aspects of mental illness? Very probably not. It's just that the behavior we see is so bizarre, so ridiculous, so extreme compared to what we see as normative that it's easy, and acceptable, to apply the words crazy, daft, deranged nuts, looney (and looney tunes), neurotic, out of their minds, psychotic, wacko etc, to our posts and replies.

In American vernacular speech, it is common to use such adjectives to paint those with whom we differ. Just think of the myriad of derisively applied adjectives juxtaposed on DU to the name Sarah Palin, Glenn Beck or George W. Bush. Most of DU dislikes these people. But this _is_ DU and in our souls we know we are intellectually better than this. We needn't fall into the overused rhetorical tool and logical fallacy of pathologizing our opponents. We ARE sensitive.

On DU, we don't say that b word about women, even Michelle Bachman. We don't use the n word about blacks, even Steele. We recognize it's wrong to say 'that's so gay.' But we still use references to mental illness as a disparaging appellation. Even Keith Olbermann (bless his heart) talks about the republican party choosing the mental hospital as it's headquarters. But we, and Keith and Maher, NEVER actually _intend_ these terms to hurt our DU friends, right? We are just so used to saying words that are disparaging that we can't help ourselves. Then again... not realizing when something IS wrong may be the diagnostic symptom of the pervasiveness of bigotry. And we all will realize that a cobblestone unintentionally dropped on someone's toe still hurts regardless of intention.

So, I'm realistic, but optimistic. I know people hate to be told how to behave, and I know that this situation on DU is probably not going to change dramatically. So, I make the following modest proposal and you can make your own choices about it ...

Just before your press 'submit' as you are looking for spelling errors etc, ask yourself if you chose the right word wherever you used crazy, daft, neurotic, etc. Below, I've provided a brief list of possible alternatives. I think you'll find these words are colorful, expressive, and perhaps will give your post/reply even more precise meaning than things such as: mentally deranged, psychotic, wacko, etc.

Absurd
Astonishing
Bizarre
Comical
Contemptible
Deplorable
Derisory
Disgraceful
Eccentric
Embarrassing
Extraordinary
Extreme
Fanatical
Fantasy/Fantastic
Farcical
Far-fetched
Feeble
Foolish
Groundless
Hilarious
Ignorant
Illogical
Implausible
Inadequate
Inconceivable
Incredible
Injudicious
Irrational
Laughable
Ludicrous
Mind-boggling
Nonsensical
Obtuse
Outlandish
Outrageous
Pathetic
Peculiar
Pitiful
Preposterous
Ridiculous
Senseless
Strange
Unbelievable
Uninformed
Unfounded
Unreal
Useless
Weird
Wild










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Posted by HereSince1628 in Poetry Group
Wed Aug 11th 2010, 08:19 PM
Silenced drones, once vital
Zippered-men* lay broken-hearted.
Inclined to repose, quietly resigned,
Knotted with catgut plain or chromic,
Uncertain of eluting stents.
Once commanding, now by-passed
Counting hearbeats long taken for granted.



*Thanks to the SO's cousin Bobby
for this term for the fraternity
bearing the unmistakable mark of
having been unzipped for heart surgery.
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Posted by HereSince1628 in Poetry Group
Sun Aug 01st 2010, 06:56 PM
Flightless, in-pajamas, without shoes
With heads resting on their shoulders
A twisted pose like patient cranes
They wait.
Hoping for a morning with a favoring wind
When though they rise as one
Each will fly on his own wings.

From the nationalgeographic website:

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Posted by HereSince1628 in Poetry Group
Thu Jul 08th 2010, 12:13 PM
When growing in
I gave it no mind
While changing socks
Little did I know
Much could be told
By hair on my toes
Now mostly fallen out
A stranded few
populate my hallux
Cheerfully observed
Follicular vitality
A good thing
Sweet pursuits
Have claimed my heart
Yet, not my feet.
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Posted by HereSince1628 in Poetry Group
Fri Jun 04th 2010, 07:12 PM
With great sadness I set down my fork.
Punjab eggplant was history.
I had spent six hours of the day wondering
What I would make for her for supper.
I had examined the refrigerator and the spice drawer
And in a most non-Midwestern way
Decided eggplant, onions, garlic, and Masala
Would rise to the occasion.
And so it was.
And so I sat
Tears streaming down my cheeks.
A day of worrying,
a day of hoping to satisfy . . .

Over.

And now, the aching emptiness of tomorrow's meals
began crawling up my spine.
Too many days, too much worry, too little to show,
This is a pain only a cook could know.
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Posted by HereSince1628 in Poetry Group
Mon Apr 05th 2010, 03:48 PM
With Apologies to Robert Frost.

Whose house this was I think I know
His job was in automotives, though.
He will not see me stopping here
To watch old lawn weeds overgrow.

My analyst doesn’t think it queer
To sit without a mortgage near,
Between bankruptcies and underwater loans
On the darker side of a recession year.

She’d give my shoulder a hearty shake
and tell me this is no mistake.
There is no sound but the hammer pounds
as the “Bank Owned” sign is firmly staked.

This cul-de-sac is lovely, dark and deep
But I have promises to keep,
And evictions to serve before I sleep,
And evictions to serve before I sleep.
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Posted by HereSince1628 in Poetry Group
Tue Mar 02nd 2010, 06:12 PM
Because it is my misperception.
No matter what in panic I excise
I am the rock fall.
I am the leg-hold trap
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Posted by HereSince1628 in Poetry Group
Sat Feb 27th 2010, 02:42 PM
On Self-harm
not to be confused with reckless acts
that might be part of Criterion 4)

If it were a coyote in the jaws of a leg-hold trap
You would defend a natural longing to be free.
If it were a climber’s arm caught under a rock fall
You would see a heroic desire for life.
Why is cutting free from the maw of madness
A reason for incarceration?
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Posted by HereSince1628 in Poetry Group
Mon Feb 22nd 2010, 04:21 PM
The Sensation of Abandonment

There was no call nor warning
just focused pressure
as the hook drove thru the belly wall
to snare a loop of guts.
And then, an aching,
emtpying, disappointment
beyond the meaning of the screams.
A spectacle of impending doom
birthed from its warm and wet domain.



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Posted by HereSince1628 in Poetry Group
Wed Dec 02nd 2009, 07:46 AM
If a person is unfortunate enough to have BPD then it must be great luck to have as psychologist someone who was a student of Linehan who created DBT therapy to treat it.

DBT requires mastering mindful meditation. As a baby-boomer I should be comfortable with seeking help in eastern ideas, but I'm having some difficulty with that.

As Wiki discusses the core of DBT..."Mindfulness is one of the core concepts behind all elements of DBT. Mindfulness is the capacity to pay attention, nonjudgmentally, to the present moment. Mindfulness is all about living in the moment, experiencing one's emotions and senses fully, yet with perspective. It is considered a foundation for the other skills taught in DBT, because it helps individuals accept and tolerate the powerful emotions they may feel when challenging their habits or exposing themselves to upsetting situations. The concept of mindfulness and the meditative exercises used to teach it are derived from traditional Buddhist practice, though the version taught in DBT does not involve any religious or metaphysical concepts."

My zoologically trained brain has no trouble percieving the broad scope of my environment. I walk down suburban streets and often notice 15-20 species of birds twittering around me.

But, registering a perception, particularly about personal interactions, I often cannot let go of the way I've categorized my experience. I can't see things another way, and without opposing point of view there can be no dielectic, and so, it seems, no dielectical behavior therapy.

Hence this...






Persistent Perceptions In Emptiness
(why brains deplore mindfulness?)

Above my hollow musings
you have already seen
this page holds some dark ink spots
that bait unsuspecting brains.

If we were in the moment, mindful,
freed from judgmental thoughts
could we decode, and then ignore,
the phantoms that they aren’t?

It’s normal to feel crazy
seeing something that’s unseen:
a spotted dog, leaves on a lawn
that’s white instead of green.

Once formed, the image dominates.
choking further thoughts
it strangles contemplation
with long, yet, unscribed arcs.

Perception fronts for knowing
a brain would rather report errors
than to be forced to sit in silence
having glimpsed what could be there.


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Posted by HereSince1628 in Poetry Group
Thu Nov 26th 2009, 10:56 AM
Criterion 7:
A Chronic Perception of Emptiness

Between my shadowed view
and the sunlit shapes you grasp,
lies the border to our visions.
We are only interpreting
reflections that divide us,
trading allusions of illusions,
reporting faces versus cups.
If we were in the moment as you wish,
making no judgments,
both of us could see the ink blots
as the meaningless things they are.
But, I do see
a Dalmatian on a dappled lawn.
I have edge-detectors.
I know well the unfilled arc of nothingness
that you say really isn’t there.
Of your view, I see only half-shaped hints
distorting the curtain
that shrouds my borderland.

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Posted by HereSince1628 in Poetry Group
Tue Nov 17th 2009, 07:19 PM
(BPD Criterion 6: Emotional Lability)

Yah, yah, I’ve noticed the bumps.
Um-Hah! Yah, so we’ve lost the way.
But hell, uh-oh, watch it…
This is the excitement of the road!
The ride is sometimes bumpy.

Hey! Look! A waterfall!
A scour formed pool…
Park there! Dammit, Park here! Park HERE!
Ahhh! Who would have guessed
That water could feel like this?

This bloody road goes on forever.
No signs of life for miles…
Ahhh…no, No! It’s way too far to go back!
My foot is bored, my butt is bored, my eyes are bored
My mind is weary of the bleakness.

Yah, yah sure, the day turns into night
Filled with shadows toothed and clawed,
But, uh-oh, stay to the left, there…
Then the dawn erases them
No need to fear the hazards that we’ve driven past.

No, uh-ah, I can’t be sure
The way could be to left or right.
But, oof--Gahd, potholes in the nothingness!
So long as we aren’t where we were,
We can’t be where we started.

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