for
modern
mindculture
nous
and
empathic
magazine
thinking
four
THE MISUNDERSTANDING ISSUE perception of language, society and identity
autumn 2014
team
trident
press
Editorial & Art Direction
Illustration
Juliet Davis (MUTO) cargocollective.com/julietdavis Stéphanie Vivier stephanievivier.org
Joe Whitmore jwhitmoo.com Lulu Heal luluheal.co.uk Melanie Wheeler melaniewheeler.co.uk Serrah Russell serrahrussell.com Sian Morrell sianmorrell.tumblr.com
Translation
Photography
Amelia Rosey
Jean-Baptiste Sinniger jeanbaptistesinniger.tumblr.com Joshua Lutz joshualutz.com Laura Pannack laurapannack.com Marina Richter mranai.tumblr.com Océane Tur cargocollective.com/hometur Stéphanie Vivier stephanievivier.org Thomas Albdorf thomasalbdorf.com Will Sharp willsharpphotography.tumblr.com
Lisa Lorenz Assistant Editor
Transcription George Odysseos Proofreading Lucy Dixon George Odysseos Words Adam Dixon saatchiart.com - Adam Dixon Amelia Rosey Angus Stewart about.me/angoos David Hartley davidhartleywriter.blogspot.com Delyth Telford Elizabeth Spavento allriseseattle.org Emily Godden auditchaos.blogspot.co.uk Holly Magill hollyannegetspoetic.wordpress.com Jake Duff James Bell Jessica Loveday jessicaloveday.wix.com/ jessicaloveday Jessickah Walsh jessickahwalshgarner. wordpress.com J. W. Poltergeist John Read discursiveoftunbridgewells. blogspot.co.uk Rosemary Birkholz 100wordstory.org Sonny Barker organicrobotix.blogspot.co.uk Sophie Kerleaux sophiekerleaux.tumblr.com Stephanie Vivier stephanievivier.org
Listen Le Vasco Les Indiens The Smiths These Things Take Time POST Monument for a Lost Cause Levin Goes Lightly Dizzy Height Second Shepherds Everyday Locean Room Kristin Oppenheim She Was Long Gone Charles Pennequin Les Petits Mots Gherasim Luca Passionnément Read The Misunderstanding Albert Camus Hesitating Beauty Joshua Lutz The Divided Self Ronald David Laing Notes From the Underground Fyodor Dostoyevsky
Leçons d’Introduction à la Théorie de la Médiation Jean Gagnepain La Baie Vitrée Sebastien Brebel Watch Festen (1998) Thomas Vinterberg Valerie a týden divu (1970) Jaromil Jires Woyzeck (1979) Werner Herzog Black Sun (2005) Gary Tarn Glossolalie (2005) Erik Bullot Night on Earth (1991) Jim Jarmusch Paper Steinweis 80g/m² Cyclus 200g/m² Marc the Printers marctheprinters.co.uk Typefaces Arek Khajag Apelian debakir.com Elena Adam Gorton adamgorton.co.uk Mangal Raghunath Joshi Contact & Info The Misunderstanding Issue is supported by La bourse á ID. crij-bretagne.com It is accompanied by As We Are Away mini-festival in November 2014. asweareaway.com
© The publisher, authors, and
contributors reserve their rights in regards to copyright of their work. No part may be reproduced or copied without the written consent of the publisher. Danke. Edition
of 500
NOUS MAGAZINE 路 MISUNDERSTANDING
AND IN THE DARKENED UNDERPASS I THOUGHT OH GOD MY CHANCE HAS COME AT LAST BUT THEN A STRANGE FEAR GRIPPED ME AND I JUST COULD NOT ASK
s.
p.
morrissey
THERE IS A LIGHT THAT NEVER GOES OUT
6
7
Cover
6
Laura Pannack
Impressum
Inner Cover
Chapter Division
Joe Whitmore
Océane Tur
ONE LANGUAGE communication, and
15
24
Tu Mens Tu
Congee
M`Entends
Rosemary Birkholz
Stéphanie Vivier 26
codices
16
Out of Sync
Of Course
Delyth Telford
Holly Magill
Melanie Wheeler
Lulu Heal 28 18
Invader Guilt
Scrambled
David Hartley
Adam Dixon Elizabeth Spavento
32
Serrah Russell
Le Chien Sophie Kerleaux Will Sharp
CONTENT
NOUS MAGAZINE 路 MISUNDERSTANDING
TWO RELATIONSHIP interaction, society, and
expectation
43
60
The First Waves
Hesitating Beauty
of Nothing
Joshua Lutz
Sonny Barker 74 45
20 Years On
Twentyfour
Prof. John Read
Jake Duff
Sian Morrell
Marina Richter 83 54
How You Fell Apart
Home is Where
Angus Stewart
the Art is
Thomas Albdorf
Jessica Loveday
THREE IDENTITY reflection,
projection, and
97
118
Amateur
Death of a Clown
Photographer
Jessickah Walsh
James Bell St茅phanie Vivier
122 Pigeon
struggle
102
Amelia Rosey
Suicide and Honor
Jean-Baptiste
J. W. Poltergeist
Sinniger
110
130
The Untitled
9781844672714
Laura Pannack
Emily Godden
8
EDITORIAL
9
NOUS MAGAZINE 路 MISUNDERSTANDING
EDITORIAL
10
11
NOUS MAGAZINE 路 MISUNDERSTANDING
communication,
and
codices
12
13
NOUS MAGAZINE · MISUNDERSTANDING
ONE LANGUAGE
tu
me
mens of
tu
m’entends
course
scrambled congee
out
of
invader le
sync
guilt
chien
14
15
NOUS MAGAZINE · MISUNDERSTANDING
tu mens tu mens tu m’ entends tu mens tu mens tant tu me mens tu me manques tu me manques tu mens ce tu mens ce tu m’ encenses tu mens ce tu m’ ense tu m’ ensevelis tu m’ encenses tu mens ce tu mens seul tu m’ esseules tu m’ as ce tu m’ as seulée tu m’ as seul tu m’ as tant tu es tu m’ as tant tu m’ attends dis tu m’ attendris tu m’ attends tu m’ entends tu m’ en tires tu me mentir tu me tu m’ en tires tu m’ attires tu m’ as ti tu m’ as tue tu m’ attends tu me mens tu m’ en tu m’ enlèves tu m’ en ré tu m’ en rêves tu m’ en rê tu m’ en re tu m’ en relèves tu me ré tu me réellement mens tu me réellement manques tu me mens que tu me manques tu mens ce tu mens ce tu m’ encenses tu mens ce tu mens ce tu m’ ensevelis tu m’ ensevelis tu m’ ensevelis
ONE — LANGUAGE TU MENS TU M ENTENDS STEPHANIE VIVIER
16
17
NOUS MAGAZINE · MISUNDERSTANDING
OF COURSE words
holly
illustration
magill lulu
heal
It sloshes into our coffee chat: she’s worried about her Auntie, who’s always had »nervous trouble.« I don’t mind disclosing: sometimes a comfort when a friend »gets it.« I’m matter-of-fact across our lattes. No big deal. Just a thing. She’s not at all surprised I’ve had depression. »It’s ’cause you’re disabled, right.« A statement: obvious to her logic, perfect sense. Would be terrible to be like this. Stuck that way.
Gentle pity foams, along with, unsaid: »Ah. I’m safe.«
ONE — LANGUAGE OF COURSE
18
19
1
Adam Dixon is an 18 year old fine artist.
He finds that friends, family and teacher have
The idea of art as language and a form of
often had to act as »translator« for him, his art
translation is particularly important to him due
work reflects the frustration of having his ideas
to his acute dyslexia.
»lost in translation« through other people and the raw act of communication that art can be.
→
NOUS MAGAZINE · MISUNDERSTANDING
SCRAMBLED words
adam
illustration
dixon
and
serrah
»since a young age ive had dislyxea
elizabeth
russell
spavento
I could and still cant tell you this
and ive never had a vice of my own that
exsactly and this is where my love
was inderpendert and what was tell the
of art comes in.no, wait ... love?
stoy of whats happeninh in my head. no not love more addiction to art I ive often been taken in to a roon at
need it.its not an expresstion of me or
school or college and sat down the userwell
my feeling or sroundings it an picture
»are you ok?« and »do you need any
documeant of what im thinking ether in
help in anything« now youd think
that one moment or for months at a time.«
as I habe dislexya that good isnt it?
∞
threr trying to help but this is it!its not what I needed help with was attaully know how to say im good and this is what im thinking and feeling for me how I feel inside has always been very hard to ether to understand or control.
ONE — LANGUAGE SCRAMBLED ADAM
20
21
2
Stealte-bsead atirst Serrah Russell
At the pepar’s egde, the astirt
creeats wkros taht are at ocne
pclaes an igame of waht araepps to
mevdititae and epvixlose, miniamsilt
be sppule, sihny bclak lethear cut to
in tiher cotmopison but exvpiasne
fit the arc of the whtie fribac nxet
in nrairtave. The cgollaes boedrr
to it. Merorrid in the reefltiocn of
on the booliigcal — tehy rceenrefe
the lethear’s die, the guzae wreilnks
the bdoy’s dtpeh by aentctincuag
lkie the piinke sdie of a clseod fsit.
texrtuses taht are peeeircvd as samutilouslney framiilar and fgieron.
Entrance feruteas hmaun hiar bchinrag uwarpd wlihe a breruld
Both are, for elxapme, decipts whtie guzae bnillowig out asniagt a bcalk baroukcgnd; a dphaniaous mebranme, a gsoht.
iagme of tpreetos asaignt a caler sky rtses bolew its gamosser sdrants.
NOUS MAGAZINE · MISUNDERSTANDING
Txet taht rdeas I tried it myself
Tihs seenntimt is rforeinced in
pkees tgrouhh form the ohter sdie of
Too Close to Close in wcihh sonw
the tnecranslut peapr in rsevere lkie
cginling to the indise of a wdoinw
bule-heud vneis tghoruh wram sikn.
pnae ourebscs the pclae wrehe one egde edns and athenor bsniegs, lkie
Oehtr coaellgs emsaizphe the astirt’s
figtiprens on the bcak of a hnad.
abiitly to vusalliy cturape the ssene of tcouh. The swhados and stbule
Serrah Russell maretss cgollae wtih an
coolr cgenahs in Break and It Could
etlesffors sstiophicaiton and dcaciley,
Be So Good cteare new borrdes wthiin
caertnig a bdoy of wrok taht is as
the wkors taht ftiouncn as a pnoit of
mcuh saturigne as it is cpororeal. ∞
ehcxange, rdlesegars of whheter the barieounds mroe cllseoy reblseme a mbraneme or a ciahn lnik fnece. all collages by Serrah Russell 1 Both Are 2 Too Close to Close 3 Break After looking at Serrah’s work I was struck by
first and the last letter of a word stay in the right
how much I felt it in my body. Reading Adam’s
place. I translated what I wrote into this kind of
writing again, I started to think about the
nonsense structure. I tried to achieve a kind work
body, how we process things both cognitively
that like Serrah’s and Alex’s was simultaneously
and visually. In the end, I was fascinated with
clear and obscured, that required a closer look, a
this idea that the world appears in reverse and
slowing of time.
that we have to assemble these reflections into something »coherent.« Coherence, though is
My intention is not by any means to mock or in
partly subjective, at least in the case of dyslexia.
any way disparage those with learning or reading
That got me thinking about typoglycemia,
disabilities. It is moreover a tool to create a better
essentially every word is misspelled yet the reader
understanding, and if my attempt at metaphor
can still form a coherent sentence because the
fails in this regard, I sincerely apologize.
ONE — LANGUAGE SCRAMBLED ELIZABETH
22
3
23
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ONE — LANGUAGE SCRAMBLED
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25
CONGEE words
rosemary
birkholz
My sister is living in Shanghai
She’s the subject of fascination
on a temporary work visa.
among her male co-workers.
We text when she’s having her
Today she found a huge cockroach
coffee and a bowl of congee and
and slipped it under her neighbor’s
I’m getting ready for bed.
door because he is loud and she doesn’t have the vocabulary to
She’s staying in a 40thfloor studio apartment.
She eats dumplings for lunch and dinner. She ordered a custom-made coat in red, but she may need it altered because of all the dumplings.
tell him to quiet down. ∞
NOUS MAGAZINE · MISUNDERSTANDING
One hundred seems perfect. It’s the basis of percentages, the perfect test score, the boiling point of water (Celsius), purity. Pythagoreans considered 100 as divine because it is the square (10 x 10) of the divine decad (10), whatever the fuck that means. Even a Scrabble set has 100 tiles. And yet 100 is a fragment. It’s an arbitrary marker, like the “First 100 Days” of a president’s term— merely a promise of what’s to come, or a whiff of what has passed. The whole is a part and the part is a whole. The 100word format forces the writer to question each word, to reckon with Flaubert’s mot juste in a way that even most flash fiction doesn’t. At the same time the brevity of the form allows the writer “to keep a story free from explanation,” as Walter Benjamin wrote. For life doesn’t lend itself so easily to our elucidations. “Incoherence is preferable to a distorting order,” said Roland Barthes. None of us will ever know the whole story in other words. We can only collect a bag full of shards that each seem perfect.
100wordstory.org
ONE — LANGUAGE CONGEE
26
27
OUT OF SYNC words
delyth
illustration
telford
melanie
wheeler
We’re speaking fluently In different languages We make a form of sense But can make no sense of each other
A sliver of beauty Between the lines That can’t be reached
Out of luck Out of joint
Forlornly floating In separate states A lack Of bridging the gap
Out of sync.
NOUS MAGAZINE · MISUNDERSTANDING
ONE — LANGUAGE OUT OF SYNC
28
29
INVADER GUILT words
david
hartley
I turn the radio off, more in an
Our vague plan of minimal
effort to silence the last opinionated
action lies buried beneath days of
few than to conserve battery life.
shuffling around and surviving,
You don’t argue the return to
days of the subject remaining
quiet; this thinned civilisation
unbroached and unconcluded.
has long lost its warmth and the philosophising and redemption may
We have food and supplies for
sound pretty but it leaves the apocalyptic heart cold. But it is not a silence I return us to; the sounds
now; perhaps we can
YOU TAKE A DEEP BREATH
of the distant liquid
sit it out for a while yet, await the coming of a better plan. Have I interpreted the smile correctly? Have I ever?
creaks filter back in. Our confused invaders continue their confused invasion. You smile at me.
And yet far beneath that smile swells your belly where propagation lies, and I think again of our angry flush of
NOUS MAGAZINE · MISUNDERSTANDING
What would an alien species make out of the way we are living? What are we really made of, what makes us what we are — human, humane? An sci-fi end-of-the-world-as-we-know-it scenario, about times we feel invaded — in various ways.
human spirit that brought about the defiance, and I wonder again if that is
We begin to tuck in when the sounds
a baby pushing against your rags or
outside change; the liquid creak is
a statement. You lay a hand on it, on
suddenly closer and we dare not even
him or her. The smile does not falter.
chew for long, burning seconds.
I am left to myself for a while as I
And yet. And yet, and yet, and
cook potatoes for us and dig out another sachet of gravy. To my shame my thoughts stay with the sex, with the gropes and the nudges
yet. We do have some
I TAKE A DEEP BREATH
and the vodka shots.
conclusions of sorts. They are not seeking the last remaining humans, they are not trying to exterminate life - they have
not exploded anything for weeks, so With my part in the nonsense
told. You take a deep breath, I take a
compared to yours. There are not
deep breath. We breathe the same air
enough potatoes left to apologise with.
and in it our resolve is transmitted.
ONE — LANGUAGE INVADER GUILT
30
31
WHEN SOMETHING CRUMBLES THEY WHINE
This is as good a time as any. Together
Armed only with their
we lift away rug-door and bow out
inspection fibres, softly, slowly,
to the balcony. There are two of them
they creep, scuttle, and scramble
in the courtyard below, inspecting
up, over, and all around us.
every brick, every wire and lump. They caress for hours and we resist Each touch is cautious; when
squirming under the tickles. They
something crumbles they whine and
spend an age measuring your bump,
try to push the bits back together.
returning to it each time the rebellious
Your hand slips into mine and
unborn kicks or fidgets. I watch each
grips. More defiance, more blind
grope from the edge of my sight,
defiance. I purse my lips and whistle.
hands running cold with sweat. They inspect that too; catching drips, letting
Creak, squeak, clatter, snap; they wheel on us and we stand firm -
them fall from tendril to tendril. And then they begin to put it all
representatives of a fragile race at the
together, some sort of interpretation
weary end of its tether. I watch closely.
taking place in whichever of these
It is almost immediate now; flails
spheres counts as their heads.
retract, whip-limbs recoil, eyes turn from scanner red to a muted blue.
Gently, they open your lips and feed you my sweat drops.
NOUS MAGAZINE · MISUNDERSTANDING
With one fibre tip, they trace a drop
They sheathed their tendrils
as it travels down your oesophagus and
too, silenced their guns,
into your belly. The baby kicks, on cue.
muted their screams.
They repeat the experiment a few times until you too are visibly perspiring.
And then; nothing. No mothership. No mass enslavement. Just one race of
The baby calms down. They decide
creatures staring at the other. And now
something then, it seems, and retreat.
these desperate reconstructions, these
We watch them go and slip back inside
gentle experiments, trying, we assume,
when they are far enough away.
to understand us - trying, perhaps, to find the best way to apologise.
Tired we attempt sleep but struggle to get comfy while we know they
You keep saying how lucky you
are still nearby. So we talk it out,
feel, both hands cascading across the
philosophise, try to get inside the mind
swell I put inside you. I keep saying
of a regretful invader. We question
sorry, but I’m not quite sure for what.
what they decided, what use they think we have of sweat, what they
Throughout the night they build
must make of your belly compared to
and build and build and we are
mine. We talk through the narrative;
surprised to drift off to the sound of
a wrecked planet re-wrecked,
it. In the morning, we creep out.
their perceptions shifted when we succumbed to defeat, when we stopped the shooting and the shouting.
A proud new Starbucks stands in the courtyard and they are gone. ∞
ONE — LANGUAGE INVADER GUILT
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33
NOUS MAGAZINE · MISUNDERSTANDING
ONE — LANGUAGE LE CHIEN
34
35
LE CHIEN words
sophie
photography
Il était 16h, en rentrant de la mer je me suis arrêtée.
kerleaux
will
sharp
A l’arrière d’une automobile noire, se trouvant à mes côtés, un chien me regarde, la langue
Sur la route à double voie il y a de
pendante. Un filet de bave s’apprête
nombreuses voitures. Nous roulons
à tomber sur la banquette en cuir,
lentement, presque à l’arrêt.
mais je ne sais pas quand.
Les couleurs et les formes se
Ma fenêtre passager est entre-
succèdent. Elles m’évoquent des
ouverte, laissant juste passer une légère
pièces d’un jeu de construction
brise qui agite un vieux mouchoir
en cours de montage.
oublié à l’arrière de mon véhicule.
NOUS MAGAZINE · MISUNDERSTANDING
Un morceau de gaufre s’échappe d’un sac négligemment posé sur le siège.
J’allume la radio, une émission vient de commencer. Les animateurs parlent d’un compositeur russe
J’aime les gaufres parce que c’est bon
décédé en 1915, Alexandre Scriabine. Il
mais aussi pour leur allure. Elles sont
aurait inventé un clavier associant
rectangulaires, pas très épaisses, mais
notes et couleurs, comme si pour
elles sont alvéolées ce qui leur
chaque son nous pouvions percevoir
donne une matérialité sculpturale,
une teinte unique ou même un
presque architecturale. Érigées,
geste, peut-être aussi une forme.
elles ressemblent à des façades d’immeuble où chaque cavité deviendrait une fenêtre.
Les voitures redémarrent, le chien a perdu son filet de bave. ∞
Chaque carré ouvrirait sur un espace intime.
It was 4pm. Returning from the sea I was waylaid. There are many cars on the double carriageway — we are driving slowly, almost stopping. Colours and shapes follow on from one another. They remind me of jigsaw pieces being put into place. From the back of a black car, lined up against mine, a dog is watching me, tongue hanging out. A drool of saliva prepares itself to fall to the leather of the seat, but I do not know when. My passenger window is half open, letting in a light breeze that disturbs an old tissue, forgotten at the back of my car. A crumb of waffle escapes from a bag dumped on the seat.
I like waffles because they taste good but also for their appearance. They are rectangular and not very thick but they are honeycombed, which gives them a sculptural physique, almost architectural. Placed upright, they resemble the front of a building in which each cavity represents a window. Each square could open up onto a private space. I turn on the radio. A program has just started. The hosts are talking about a Russian composer who died in 1915, Alexander Scriabine. Apparently he invented a keyboard that could associate notes with colour, so that for each sound you could perceive a unique shade of something, or perhaps a gesture, or maybe even a shape. The cars are starting again, the dog has lost its string of spit. ∞
ONE — LANGUAGE LE CHIEN THE DOG
36
37
NOUS MAGAZINE · MISUNDERSTANDING
ONE — LANGUAGE THE DOG
38
39
NOUS MAGAZINE 路 MISUNDERSTANDING
and
society,
expectation
40
41
NOUS MAGAZINE 路 MISUNDERSTANDING
TWO RELATIONSHIP
the
first
home
is
waves
where
hesitating twenty
how
of
twentyfour
you
the
nothing art
beauty
years
fell
on
apart
is
42
TWO — RELATIONSHIP THE FIRST WAVES OF NOTHING SONNY BARKER
43
NOUS MAGAZINE 路 MISUNDERSTANDING
the second installment circumstances might have swept towards him shrieking vacuous perplexity illustrations penetrating his imagination not caring about the lunatic behind the secret gushing down fogging the lens he would come to them murmuring from the darkness the lunatic thought his own distress effective sideways would have pulled perhaps car crashes responders assumed he had no idea the whole time the instant he fell back punctuating the escalating cacophony with his right hand what happened was you needed assistance momentarily from the centre opposite hung the unconscious girl anything the guy wished might touch delicately another lifetime came out reluctantly approaching away from the autumn bright red brick building of orange red fire very carefully he murmured the first waves of nothing to say this to the remaining four visciousness he had already seen outstretched with no surprise shattered her scream twitching himself the direction of the librarian cellular communication had never seemed so far those wrecked and eerily deserted muscles went dashing rapidly back and forth he began to get the idea in what he was seeing on the right old facedown good feeling left in a rush under the circumstances a validation on a moment particularly reassured the blood stained door it seemed that he was right as if that were all it would take to keep them from the chaos on the street he felt at home with a combination of fear and prurient distaste outside the girl in white dress looked almost forgotten to pull free crazy talk ceased for a moment it ripped against the door unhinged screaming she could tell them that much everyone did these days it seemed asking questions mutely just long enough as certain a parting shot as if to underline this point shattered frames once held glass it also seemed that was important but there was something even more important than that theme music was forbidden partly because minor inconveniences forgotten thought exploded responsibility gnawing anything enough to consider putting you out on the street of surly instruction
44
45
NOUS MAGAZINE · MISUNDERSTANDING
TWO — RELATIONSHIP TWENTYFOUR
46
47
TWENTYFOUR Memories can dominate our words jake
to a parallel universe. Realisation can hit
in the distant past.
hard, can wake you up or make you fall.
duff
Misconceptions can
photography marina
Miscommunication, or silence can build up
present even though rooted
richter
Is this what schizophrenia could feel like?
haunt us for a long time.
Weeks passed by and there was still green in the leaves, though
A story about loss and illusion.
where voices seemed to mumble against the background radiation.
the last of the summer was surely sinking to its knees.
We hadn’t spoken in weeks and I thought that was simply that.
A ringing disturbed me; I answered wordlessly to a voice, impossibly small,
The next day she was here with
almost defeated. She made a few
me, pity and tea and long stretches
sounds; they seemed to echo against
of silence without contact. The
the walls – eroding into them like
walls seemed to flinch at her in the
gentle waves over decades. I managed
darkness of my bedroom, windowless
a sound in response and felt the inertia
and gasping it swallowed us both
of past events begin to reverse – slowly
in feigned sleep. I looked closely at
at first but with each coy and wakeful
my bed sheets. They seemed almost
word it went backwards faster and
to whiten in her presence as if a
faster like magnetic tape, settling
cleansing light beamed about her.
not into static but a new normal
NOUS MAGAZINE · MISUNDERSTANDING
We awoke perhaps an hour and
I followed suit, though the
twenty minutes later and went into the
water was far too murky for
living room; we returned that night
even the slightest reflection.
to a bed that seemed never to have
Eye contact a crack in the
been slept in; fully made and smelling
atmosphere, a blast of sun; I held a
faintly of fabric softener. Though at
hand up, almost to touch her hair.
first this troubled me, I soon crashed
I thought twice. These things belong
contentedly into a deep, dreamless
in movies, where we learned. They’ve
sleep. Both of us fully clothed, back
taught us nothing less than who
to back, and not quite touching.
we’re not but who we wish we were. I touched her hair anyway, though I
The next morning, Mina took my
saw on her face the briefest stirring
hand and led me outside. The whirring sound of wind in leaves was strangely machinelike. The traffic nearby, usually
of something like
EYE CONTACT A CRACK IN THE ATHMOSPHERE
roaring, was today
discomfort. She held a camera to her eye and took a picture; of what I wasn’t sure.
faint, though the smell of exhaust fumes was almost too much.
Then of me, then of her, then of us both; I tried my best to smile
I tried to keep my eyes on the
but seemed like an onlooker, an
ground, I couldn’t stop looking up
audience member. I imagined a
at her; perfect skin and the blackest
cathode ray and a pane of glass
hair, her lips a natural deep rouge
between us; she seemed at times to
in an effortless smile. She peered
flicker in and out. At certain angles
into the water and flicked her
she seemed to disappear entirely.
hair to one side, then the other.
TWO — RELATIONSHIP TWENTYFOUR
48
49
NOUS MAGAZINE · MISUNDERSTANDING
She asked if I felt better. I thought
She too pulled her camera from
I’d told her that I did but not a minute
the strap around her neck and took
went by before she asked again the
a picture. She looked at the ground
same question, slightly louder. We
and then to her side, smiling.
walked along a canal, not hand in hand; I walked a few feet in front and watched the water reflect the trees overhead.
The sound of the
WALKING NOT HAND IN HAND
I stopped and turned
children laughing grew louder as we approached them, still poking their sticks into the water – some
suddenly without knowing quite
of them scrambling on the ground
why, her hand outstretched - I took
for larger, sturdier sticks.
it. Mina told me she had missed walking with me. I smiled and turned
It was unclear what they were
away, uninterested, looking across
poking at, though a flash of
the water at some children poking at
something like cloth would glide
something in the water with a stick.
lazily and tantalizingly into view.
The canal seemed to shimmer a
I hadn’t eaten properly in weeks
little too much. The grass along the
and though the beautiful weather,
path was a green so vivid it seemed
exercise and clean air felt purifying, I
unnatural. We stopped to let a man
had no appetite. Short of breath I sat
take a picture of the sky, which to
on a bench and watched a canal boat
me didn’t shine quite as blue as it
negotiate a lock. The children up ahead
should on such a beautiful day; it
had given up their sticks and watched
seemed as though there was a very
the canal boat rise with the water,
thin layer of gauze stretched across
fascinated. The sun shone against their
it, robbing the sky of its gloss.
messy hair, missing teeth and t-shirts.
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They stood in silence as behind them
51
Before long I was handed a branch,
the water seemed untroubled and I
thicker and sturdier than the others.
closed my eyes against the sun in rest.
I stood back and pushed it toward
We remained a short while. She leaned
the bottom, angling it left and right
her head against my shoulder and
until I struck something. The water
played with my hair. The canal boat passed by, its wake had left the water still slightly unsettled; we stopped where the children had before and tried to see what they had seen
got thicker and thicker
THIS WAS SOMETHING BETTER LEFT TO RISE OF ITS OWN ACCORD
past the dirty waters.
towards the bottom of the canal and I struggled to even move the branch until finally something gave way. A cloud of sediment rose, further obscuring the
shape which remained teasingly It was several minutes until the
hard to define; Mina’s grip on my
waters were sufficiently calm that we
shoulder vanished and I became
could see something. Our curiosity
aware that as the sediment began
piqued. Mina handed me a stick –
to dissipate it felt more and more
half seriously, half-jokingly. I took
that this was something better
it and leaned over as far as I could,
left to rise of its own accord.
giving the shadow a good hard jab. Nothing.
The sun now shone on this stretch of the canal the brightest and inches
The children from before were
below the surface I thought I saw
walking past and gathered around
fingers wave as though in greeting in
us, offering encouragement and
the gentle to and fro of the water.
handing me bigger sticks.
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I thought I saw a face turn in
53
were the unquestioned following of
the silt, catching sunlight like an
directions. I looked around for the
eclipse. In the light, I thought I saw
flash of a lens reflecting the sun,
the curved lens of an eye glint for a
a stray cable running through the
moment in the water and disappear.
grass but nothing. I looked down at my hands, at the wrinkled knuckle
Though the children had seen
and the odd bulge of a vein here and
nothing, I told them to go. I said
there. I flexed my fingers and looked
nothing to Mina for fear of sounding
up at Mina; head still tilted back, I
dramatic. I was sure though that
wondered if I could break her neck.
I saw an eye, perhaps even a tip of a nose. Her words seemed to warp
The stray thought startled me
and crackle in my head like an old
but I entertained it a little longer. I
recording and all I could do was look
imagined the revulsion I would feel,
at her, a silhouette in the bright light
the guilt and fear of repercussion.
of the sun; behind her a curtain of privet shook restless in the wind.
She looked up at me and waved. I stammered a response and went into
Back home we sat in the garden. Mina asked for wine and it seemed like a good idea — something wholesome.
the kitchen to fetch
I FINALLY STEPPED OUTSIDE
Once again I was struck by the
a bottle and a couple of glasses. I took the moment by myself to breathe deeply.
I picked up a knife and examined
feeling we were being observed, that
it, my reflection in the stainless steel
somehow the way she leaned her
looked so pale and thin I almost
head back without expression and
dropped it. Finally I stepped outside,
the way I held my hand over my eyes,
smiling and apologizing for the glasses.
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Were her teeth always that white, I wondered; the natural scent of her neck so intense? That night in bed I kissed her, or rather I tried to. A subtle turn of her head as I made to lean in was all it took and this morning I found myself alone, though I was so sure I hadn’t slept and never heard her leave. Last night’s glasses I found sparkling clean in the cupboard; the garden seemed wild and overgrown where it appeared so neat yesterday as we sat in the sun. The chairs leant cobwebbed and unclean against the wall. ∞
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55
HOME IS WHERE THE ART IS with
jessica
interview
loveday
nous
magazine
We met Arts For Health practitioner Jessica Loveday to learn more about her new community project. Her work seeks to help people affected by mental illness. You can listen to the full interview online via the website of our sister project As We Are Away mini-festival. Jessica will facilitate one of her Home Is Where the Art Is workshops, open to the public, as part of the festival. www.asweareaway.com
What’s the name of your project? Home Is Where The Art Is It’s got a very comforting sound to it. What do you want people to know about your project? How did it all begin? The main issue really is to create awareness. It was mainly inspired by my volunteering work for Venture Arts where I facilitated workshops for adults. From there I started looking into well-being. I became really aware that art helps me personally with certain things I was going through.
NOUS MAGAZINE · MISUNDERSTANDING
I wasn’t really aware until I started reading books on Arts for Health. There
An MA would be more academic, distancing you from the topic.
is a lot of art projects in Manchester that provide a lot of support for mental
I think, if anything, it would
health. But I found that many people
probably hinder a career like this if
can’t actually access those facilities or
you move too far to the academic side.
services. They are too anxious to leave
For me volunteering is the only way I
their home or join a group setting.
will get this experience. Researching
Home Is Where The Art Is is made
in the comfort of university, and not
to help give access to those people.
actually experiencing anything in the real world, is not for me.
Do you have an art education background? I took Print Making at University.
FOR ME VOLUNTEERING IS THE BETTER WAY
But not in education itself?
Is it because it’s a really personal relationship with direct contact that you maintain?
Yeah, being able to observe the way other people facilitate and
Not in delivery but I’ve been
seeing how they do it — trial and
volunteering now for a year and a half,
error — using aspects of what
and observing people, facilitating
works for them, and then applying
workshops. I have had a couple of
it in my own way of facilitating.
freelance jobs where I’ve gone into schools so I was beginning to spread out and support facilitation.
How do you get in touch with anxious people who need your help?
I was thinking of doing an MA at one point, but I decided that for me
The problem is: no-one sees them.
volunteering is so much more valuable.
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I thought of the times when I was
57
There’s another woman who likes
anxious and wouldn’t even get out
being creative in her spare time, but
of bed, given that my experience of
hasn’t had any formal education.
anxiety was really, really mild. I just try to imagine what it would be like if it was impacting my everyday
You work with all kinds of people that have all got an interest in the arts somewhere.
life. If you suffer severely you might not leave the house for days and days.
What does the first contact look like?
I partnered up with St. Luke’s Art Project and we drew up a referral form for people. It was sent out to their mental health partner organizations. A lot of people come along to St. Luke’s because art
It’s normally a key,
A LOT OF PEOPLE COME ONCE AND NEVER RETURN
compels them, but they
or support worker that fills in the form and returns it to Saint Luke’s via email. I then contact the key worker and arrange a meeting with the
don’t return. We want to reach those
potential participant with the key
who have an interest in joining the
worker present. That’s where we’ll
groups – they have got the motivation
discuss different techniques they can
to do it, but they haven’t got the
explore. I think it would be scary to
confidence yet. I’ve just managed to get
just launch straight into the project.
in touch with such a person. Now, he’s
It’s nice to meet people informally
going to be involved with my project.
and make sure they want to take part.
This, hopefully, will give him the
They might not want to work with
confidence to go to the group sessions
you, but they do have the option.
St. Luke’s provide independently. Is every workshop tailored to the person? It works like a stepping stone to get on board.
After the initial meeting with the key worker there will be another
Yeah. He’s very advanced in doing art, which he studied at university.
meeting. I call it »Getting To Know You«, which will just be a few
NOUS MAGAZINE · MISUNDERSTANDING
ice-breaker activities and talking about themes they want to explore
They identify that nothing on the table is painted, but still artwork.
during the six-week project. From then on it will be personalized, I write a
The second ice-breaker is collage.
brief they can work towards knowing
Magazines and newspaper cuttings
what they want to find out and try.
are spread out. One woman made a collage which moved like a story,
How do the ice-breaker activities look like?
telling her life. She really opened up to us and told us all about it. Mine and Laura’s were not personal at
A lot of people who don’t do art from an art background assume that art is solely painting. I want to break
all. It was completely aesthetic. In the end we move on to talking about themes and techniques.
that down because it can scare people when they think they have to paint a masterpiece. The first ice-breaker
How many sessions do you offer after the ice-breakers?
for example involves old postcard. None of them are painted. I avoid
There will be six weekly sessions,
it as much as possible to show that
but I’m quite flexible. If they need
art can be absolutely anything. We
an extra one I would do that, to
spread the postcards out. There will
get the product done. In the end
be three of us there, the participant,
there will be an exhibition.
Laura my project partner, and myself.
I tell the participants to work
Each picks one favourit, and one
towards one final piece, but also
we don’t feel anything about.
that the work they’ve produced in the process can be equally good.
Then we discuss how the
I don’t want them to worry too
card is made, what it’s actually
much about producing a beautiful
of, just to break down that
piece of artwork, and making
assumption that art is painting.
them aware of the importance and value of the process.
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And all sessions will be at people’s homes?
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When will the project’s final exhibition be launched?
Yes, or sometimes supported housing. I’ve got a group of women
In January or February time at St.
on Monday, who live in supported
Luke’s Art Project. The exhibition will
housing. In the beginning, only one
be open for about a week. During that
woman got in touch, but then a couple
time we will invite all participants
of the others who live with her were
to come to St. Luke’s for the final
interested in taking part. We decided
workshop. Hopefully, they will identify
to hold group sessions instead.
with the space and feel comfortable to start coming on their own.
Your project is funded by Arts Council England, would you be able to run
Have experienced any problems so far?
it without the financial support? Yesterday’s session with the group We were going to with or without
of women was cancelled because
the ACE funding. I raised about
a couple of them were not really
700 pounds for materials, e.g.
feeling up for it. You have to be
frames for the exhibition. Apart
flexible when it comes to mental
from that, we need funding for the
health. If you push someone they
wages. We’ve got a professional
will not want to get involved. It is
photographer to document the
fine to just postpone sessions.
artwork and the vernissage. Then all will be published as a documentary book. Each participant
How are you juggling your project and other responsibilities?
will have images of their own work and everybody else’s who’s involved. This
I only work evenings so that’ fine.
is possible thanks to the Arts Council.
I’ve cut down to two days a week or
A curator will be involved as well
two evenings a week. As soon as I can
encouraging everyone to help as much
afford it I’ll cut down to one day only.
as they feel comfortable with. Like that they will have the opportunity to work directly with the curator.
So this is basically your full time job?
NOUS MAGAZINE · MISUNDERSTANDING
Yes. I’ve quit my voluntary jobs as well for now. But I’m hoping to go back
It is always so much work as well to apply for funding, isn’t it?
to them after my project is finished. Yeah, but hopefully if we can Is there no way of St. Luke’s or
show some really good results
someone else of employing you to
for this project then maybe the
provide your service continuosly, or do
Council will fund it again.
they simply not get enough funds? How will the workshop look like you provide for As We Are
No, I don’t think they get enough funding for it. What are your plans for the future after the exhibition in 2015? In the future I will
IT ALL DEPENDS ON FUNDING WITHOUT IT WOULD BE A STRUGGLE
Away mini-festival? I will do something similar to »Getting To Know You« with the different ice-breakers, and a task about joining things without
apply for more money,
using glue, and create
employ more artists,
little sculptures.
get more participants involved. It all depends on funding unfortunately. It would have been a struggle without it.
Thank you for meeting us and good luck with Home Is Where The Art Is!
I would have had to work more at my other job which I think would have impacted the project.
See you at As We Are Away in November!
You would have carried all the costs yourself, the material, facilitation, exhibition …That’s a lot.
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HESITATING BEAUTY
by
joshua
lutz
Holding on so tightly to what I believed was sanity yet consumed by fear of depression and schizophrenia prevented me from being fully present to her reality. She slowly slipped away from the aggressive paranoia of my youth to an almost calming sense of delusion.
NOUS MAGAZINE · MISUNDERSTANDING
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As a young boy, I watched her search for the right numbered pattern on license plates and at night unscrewing the phones to look for recording devices. It was fun to think that we were more important than everyone else, that we were on a mission. That excitement was displaced with tremendous anger, but mostly fear, as thoughts that I too could end up like her began to take form. These debilitating emotions eventually dissolved into empathy and compassion opening to her reality without the fear of losing myself. Looking back on the family archive for clues and understanding, my role in shaping that story began to collide with the memory of how it exists and a desire to change it. Falling deeper into the psychosis I imagined a time when the past, present and future collided; a place where the weight of that memory is heavier than reality.
NOUS MAGAZINE ¡ MISUNDERSTANDING
Five little monkeys jumping on the bed. One fell off bumped her head. Mamma called the doctor and the doctor said Mamma called the doctor and the doctor said Mamma called the doctor Mamma said the doctor said Mamma said the doctor said Mamma said she wants to die. Mamma called the doctor and said she wants to die. Five little monkeys jumping on the bed. One fell off bumped her head.
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65
Right after you were born your mother believed she had fallen in love with someone else. She wanted to leave not just me, but all of us. I only met him once and he was sitting on her bed when I came to visit. You could tell right away that he was a patient, all thorzined up. She acted as if they were a couple and introduced me as her friend from college. The things that happened after, everything she talked about, essentially everything the rest of her life became about all started at that moment in time. He did write that song about her, or at least it seems he did. Beyond that I think she made the whole thing up in one her psychotic episodes, and it just stuck around forever like all her talking trees and misplaced rocks. But after she left you guys, who really knows what happened? My guess is not even she did.
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balancing
joshua
hesitating
rock
lutz
beauty
devil,
joshua
hesitating
lutz
beauty
devil
school
bus
joshua
hesitating
lutz
beauty
collapsing
joshua
hesitating
wall
lutz
beauty
NOUS MAGAZINE · MISUNDERSTANDING
Sweetheart,
I can’t write too much because I feel scared, but the things that I see no longer make sense. Faceless figures, rocks growing like trees. I can’t even remember what these tears are for, but I look at my children and I know they are not who you say they are. Please visit me.
Yours forever, Hesitating Beauty
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71
Trust me when I tell you this. All of these people here are not who they say they are. You need to know that when you’re not here it all changes.
They don’t treat me the way you do, and if it’s all the same to you I’ll just assume we’ll leave the next time you come. They are not giving me much choice and if you don’t show soon they won‘t believe.
Come soon.
Yours Forever, Hesitating Beauty
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NOUS MAGAZINE · MISUNDERSTANDING
Hesitating Beauty was first published by Schilt Publishing in 2012
»Around our yard I’ll nail a fence so high That the boys with peeping eyes cannot see that angel face Of my hesitating beauty.« Woody Guthrie
p.61 Whitestone Bridge · p.65 Balancing Rock
p.66 Devil, Devil · p.67 School Bus · p.68 Collapsing Wall
p.71 Emergency · p.72 The Coming Insurrection
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Sometimes it takes distance and time to realise that things can change, improve even. Prof. John Read₁ is a fighter
for open-mindedness in diagnosis. Here is his resumee and outlook on the develpement of research on schizophrenia. A reminder to look at the flipsides.
20 YEARS ON
words
prof.
illustration
john
sian
read
morrell
It’s good to be back in the UK after twenty years in New Zealand — well, apart from the weather, the political, economic and spiritual state of England, and the endless phone calls to India to get someone from up the road to install a phone.
NOUS MAGAZINE · MISUNDERSTANDING
As regards mental health research,
It rarely seems to occur to them to ask
the difference I notice most is how far
a vital (and some might say obvious)
people’s thinking has moved on from
question: »what might have happened
the old, simplistic, »blame-the-brain-
to make the groups different?«
for- everything-and-medicate« idea. I would not for a Two papers I’ve published since returning will both, I hope, contribute to this on-going development.
BLAME THE BRAIN FOR EVERYTHING AND MEDICATE
moment dispute that such researchers are well-intentioned folk. They may have a deep knowledge of
The first was published with
neurology and access to some very
colleagues from Scandinavia, and the
fancy technology. However, they often
USA in The Journal of Neuropsychiatry₂
don’t seem to grasp the simple fact
with the snappy title »The Traumagenic
that a primary function of the brain
Neurodevelopmental Model of Psychosis
is to respond to the environment.
Revisited« it reports on 125 papers that support a model we first put
One of the findings underpinning
forward in 2001 outlining how
our model is that there are some
psychosis can be related to trauma.
striking similarities between the brains of traumatised young
This model is a challenge to those I
children and those of people
call »contextless brain researchers«:
diagnosed with schizophrenia.
people who when they find a
Perhaps the most important is in
difference in the brains of two groups
the way that the nervous systems
of people, assume that they have
(the »HPA axis₃«, to be precise) of
found the cause of the difference.
the two groups respond to stress.
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We’ve been told for decades
77
sometimes disguise what is
that the reason that people who
still fundamentally a biological
experience »psychosis« are sensitive
explanation of our experiences.
to stress is genetic. It now seems
We’re told that stress can play
that for many people the cause of
a role, but only in people who
such heightened sensitivity may
already have a supposed genetic
lie elsewhere: in early trauma.
predisposition. Life events, evenserious and traumatic ones, are relegated
This goes to the heart of whether the much touted »bio-psycho-social model« and its alter ego the »stress-
to the role of »triggers« of an underlying genetic time bomb. Bio-genetics enthusiasts claim
vulnerability model« really do what
that the »vulnerability« part of
it says on the tin, and offer a genuine
the equation must be genetic.
integration of nature and nurture. This conveniently ignores the fact I argue in my book Models of
that the inventors of the model,
Madness that these terms can
Joseph Zubin and Bonnie Spring₄, stated
1) Prof. John Read: Professor of Clinical Psychology
3) HPA-axis: Complex direct influences and feedback
in the University of Liverpool’s Institute of Psychology,
interactions among three endocrine glands: the
Health and Society. Formerly a clinical psychologist
hypothalamus, a pea-shaped structure below the
at the University of Auckland. His research interests
hypothalamus, and the small conical organs on top
include: attitudes towards »mental illness«,
of the kidneys. The interactions among these organs
psycho-social causes of psychosis, and the role of the
constitute the axis, controlling reactions to stress and
pharmaceutical industry in psychology.
regulates many processes, such as mood and emotions, sexuality, and energy storage and expenditure.
2) The Journal of Neuropsychiatry: The official journal of The American Neuropsychiatric
4) Joseph Zubin and Bonnie Spring: Inventors of
Association. It is dedicated to developing effective
the Diathesis-Stress Model, a psychological theory
diagnosis and treatment for patients with
that attempts to explain behavior as a predispositional
neuropsychiatric disorders. The journal publishes
vulnerability together with stress from life experiences.
articles addressing subjects such as Alzheimer’s disease,
The term diathesis derives from the Greek term for
traumatic brain injury, Parkinson’s disease, epilepsy,
disposition, or vulnerability, and it can take the form of
and seizure disorders, and is devoted to reporting
genetic, psychological, biological, or situational factors.
discoveries in clinical neuroscience that are relevant to understanding the brain-based disorders of patients.
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in their seminal 1977 paper that the
How times have changed — and how
vulnerability can be acquired from
quickly.
early life events. As Michael Caine used to say, »Not a lot of people know that«.
I now hear people saying »What’s all the fuss about? We always
This all reminds me that a few years back Robin Murray, Professor of Research at London’s Institute of Psychiatry, announced from a Canadian conference stage that »The schizophrenia
A COLONIAL WAR IS USUALLY QUICK TO ANNOUNCE THE END OF HOSTILITIES
wars ended in the
knew that - nothing controversial there«. Some of the most scathing critics of our first few papers are now happily putting their names on papers confirming the relationship.
1970s«. I couldn’t help raising my hand and pointing out that the
I was moaning about the »hypocrisy«
occupying force in a colonial war is
of all this to my colleague Richard
usually quick to announce the end
Bentall recently and he replied »John,
of hostilities, and that the war would
John, - you’ve won and you’re still
not be over until the occupying forces
bitching!«
withdrew to the appropriate boundary. The »victory« had never felt It is remarkable then that the
so real as when I heard some
relationship between trauma and
wonderful news from New Zealand
psychosis — heresy just 15 years ago
towards the end of last year.
— is now one of the strongest and most consistent findings in our field.
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An abuse survivor had twice been
79
us believe that their products are
denied financial aid in relation to
targeted, specific »treatments« for
subsequent mental health problems
identified brain problems. My second
because two »experts« — employed by
recent paper reported an online survey
the agency responsible for making such payments — had stated that there is no evidence that child abuse can cause psychosis. However, in the final appeal a psychiatrist summarised the substantial literature
of 1,829 people taking
IT SEEMS THAT BOTH PROFESSIONALS AND PUBLIC ARE INCREASINGLY EXPORING ALTERNATIVES
antidepressants. It revealed some astonishing levels of psychological and interpersonal adverse effects. For example, 60% of people reported
which attests otherwise.
feeling emotionally
The judge upheld the
numb, 42% said that
appeal and I’ll admit I took some
the drugs reduced positive as well
naughty pleasure in the NZ’s national
as negative emotions, and 39% felt
Sunday newspaper quoting me as
that they cared less about others
saying that the first two psychiatrists,
whilst on the drug. Other effects
»either knew nothing about the many
are already well documented but
studies documenting the relationship
we were surprised at their sheer
between child abuse and psychosis or
frequency: 62% reported sexual
were trying to mislead the judge«.
difficulties (rising to 72% for men), and 39% reported feeling suicidal,
Another area where research is
rising to 55% in 18-25 year olds.
challenging the simplistic medical model type thinking in mental
Withdrawal effects, often
health is that of interventions.
dismissed as rare or imagined
More and more studies are giving the lie to the pharmaceutical company propaganda which would have
— were reported by 55%
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Those who had been more depressed
Only a minority of professionals
when the drugs were first prescribed
seem intent on continuing to ignore
were no more likely than others to
experience and push the idea
experience these effects, suggesting
that mental health problems are
that they were drug-related rather than
essentially problems with our brains.
symptoms of the depression itself. And those people are getting Although biologically-rooted explanations of distress and
older by the minute. Things have changed unbelievably in 20 years.
pharmaceutical treatments are still prevalent, it seems that both
Hopefully, if we all keep pushing,
professionals and the public are
in whatever way our circumstances
increasingly exploring alternatives.
allow, our mental health services will finally become evidence-
All over the world — with the sole
based, effective and humane. ∞
exception of the USA — surveys reveal that the public, including service users and carers, tends to take the commonsense view that mental health problems are related much more closely to the events and circumstances of our lives than to biological factors such as genetics or brain chemicals.
This piece is reproduced from »Discursive of Tunbridge Wells - views and commentary on psychology, mental health and other stuff’« hosted by the Salomons Centre for Applied
When it comes to help the public also strongly prefer psychological
Psychology, Canterbury Christ Church University.
and social approaches over drugs,
discursiveoftunbridgewells
electroshock therapy or hospitals.
.blogspot.co.uk
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HOW YOU FELL APART words
angus
photography
stewart
thomas
albdorf
A small history of catatonic indulgence, poetic reversal, and basic misunderstanding.
Your breakdown began, pretty much,
The whoosh of the booster and
when you were four years old. This is
the big black NASA logo printed on
very unfair, of course, but don’t blame
the side are the quick, harmonious
me. I didn’t write down the story of
chord that follow on from that one
your life — you did. It’s your invention,
long, low and quiet opening note:
I’m afraid, your own sorry little
you, trolley, wheels, mother. Air
serenade to yourself, and it usually
conditioning in the background.
begins with your small, felt-trousered bottom sat on the hard plastic seat
All put together, it sounds a little
that the supermarket people built to
sad. She wheeled you round into
hold you safely between your mother
the drinks aisle and grabbed three
and her Saturday morning shopping.
bottles of white wine that no-one was supposed to know anything
The trolley wheels are squeaking.
about. But you knew, of course.
As mum glides past the hundred-
She was whistling and you always
thousand tins of tomato soup, you
paid more attention when she was
are thinking about red rocket ships.
whistling. You poked your head up.
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You tried to mimic the high
You found her at the beach, sat down
notes but you could only produce
on the flats and huddling an empty
ugly little raspberries: phhft, phhft,
green bottle, singing herself to sleep.
phfffttt. Mum laughed at that, quite
You reckon raw instinct led you there
hard. You still remember how angry
that night, or maybe the voice of god,
that laughter made you feel.
because this wasn’t somewhere you’d been before, even during daytime
You told your big strong dad about those three bottles of wine that night. The village priest was there on a chance visit — distributing hymn sheets — and
when the world’s hidden
NOONE WAS SUPPOSED TO KNOW ANYTHING ABOUT
you told him, too. They both wanted to hear a lot
places are more familiar to the human eye. Mum was almost gone by the time you found her, but she found the wits to ask what you were doing,
and that was ironic, because you were
about Mum and her habits. You
just about to ask her the very same
didn’t think of it as ratting her out.
question. She was in no state to answer
You thought of it as sharing. Even
of course, but that’s okay — you
then you knew that priests loved
wouldn’t have understood the things
to share in other people’s secrets.
she wanted to tell you that night. You two spent about five more
You confronted Mum before your
minutes together on the sand, telling
Dad could. You always had a nose
each other bedtime stories, before your
for her. You’ve always been in tune.
Dad arrived in his big red car with the beams turned on so that they shone over the dune like alien searchlights.
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This is the bookmarked page in your head where you think your
The outside was limbo for you.
family fell apart. You think your parents just fizzled out after that
School was a place where you
night. They gave up on everything
dreamed about sex. Laughter
after that, that’s how it was to you.
frightened you. Friends and nights out didn’t exist.
In your head, all the confusion that came after lasted about four years.
This was the middle-eight of your
But really you have it wrong– the
breakdown. The forgettable glue
dust- if you want to call it that-
that joined Part A to Part B.
settled in just over twelve months. When one day ended and the next It’s funny how time stretches and
began, you didn’t take any memories
contracts depending on the music
with you. In the waking world,
in your head. I call this part the end
there was no real space outside your
of the first movement. Your family
pretend space. Nothing important
held together, at the basic level ,
happened to you. You existed, and
and you lived inside a blurry bubble
survived. On your dull face your
until you found alcohol. We won’t
were: fine, okay, alright. In your red
dispute that: everything before
heart, you were grim and silent. In
alcohol was quiet and unsociable.
your grey mind, you were waiting.
The house became a grey tinderbox.
The best word from science
Dad thought you were on Mum’s side.
would be: dormant. The best word
Mum thought you were on Dad’s side.
in music would be: mezzopiano.
They both wanted to love you, but
It progressed when a boy called
you shut them both out for politics’
Michael led you away. He stole you
sake. You were all afraid, really.
from home in a shopping trolley.
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It doesn’t even matter where you
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ring out in front of you. A violinist or
met, but it wasn’t school. You learned
a dapper singer would have been a nice
to drink with Michael and sometimes
accompaniment , all things considered.
you got high, too. You liked the same music too, which was a plus. The alcohol gave you direction and
Then you figured: what’s the difference if I make a little part of
the love was fuel. Everything was
him a part of me and a little part of
exploding and you were happy, for
me a part of him? What’s in a ring?
a while. A Hollywood film would end here. A pop song would vanish
So it happened: you swapped
from the charts just about now. After you got jobs Michael wanted
impossible promises
THE BEST WORD FROM MUSIC MEZZOPIANO
marriage and you didn’t
in a church. It’s a shame that that’s the way it went. I did say this story was unfair. I did point
have a decent counter-argument.
out that you wrote it, even if at
Michael had made you feel like you
the time you didn’t have a handle
since you first sat down on a bed
on what you were making.
together. He was your epicentre. The
Writing is not the same as
sad thing — and this was your big
understanding. Most things
realisation when the proposal came —
just happen, like sing-song.
was that you, the real you, had been buried in the sand of home long ago.
Your wedding was quiet. As it happened, all you could think about
The pale mezzopiano you of school
was the past. Everybody else was
was a dissolved ghost. The wandering
focused on the future. The whole thing
you of tarmac limbo was lost
went on inside a dull, hymnal cloud.
somewhere in the streets, friendless. Michael’s you felt like the only
The cracks in you showed
version of you still standing, standing
when Michael started to
there dumbstruck in the cheap
hate you, and vice versa.
restaurant where he pulled the gold
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You had all sorts of weaknesses and
He leaves you there, bleeding. All
habits he despised. For your part, you
you could think about as the blood
found him unclean, petty, and vile.
and wine mixed together were felt
You thought the hate growing in you made you strong. It had a
trousers, and the feel of hard plastic. Phffft, goes your ruined
burning heat to it that reminded you
mouth. Shattered teeth roll
of real life and authentic feeling.
across the sticky floor.
Kind of like reliving childhood. Michael’s hate was less interesting:
Your parents and the police come,
he just thought you were using all the
and the former — ironically — try
drugs, but really you were flushing
their best to piece you back together.
them down the toilet, because deep
You kick and fight all the way home.
down you loved him, even if the
People mistake you for a demon.
music shared between you was gone.
Someone gave that insight to a reporter, and it made the headlines:
One day it all came to a sorry, ridiculous head and you phoned the police on one another. Because you
»Demon Junkie Lovers Terrorise Aisle 16.«
were high on pills you fled out the door together, and you ended up on the supermarket floor, screaming. That’s where you had your last
A sad truth indeed. The last movement. That’s how you fell apart. That’s
argument. It wasn’t very rational– I’m
how you made it back to me, my
sure you remember that much. The
sweet, sweet child. I’m letting
memories kick in again where Michael
go now. The rest of this story is
slugs you with the hardest words
yours to tell, and the tune — if you
he can think of and you crash down
want it — is yours to whistle. ∞
into the shelves of the wine aisle.
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reflection, and
projection,
struggle
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THREE IDENTITY
amateur
suicide
photographer and
honor
untitled
death
of
a
pigeon
clown
nineseveneightoneeightfour
foursixseventwosevenonefour
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AMATEUR PHOTOGRAPHER words
james
pierced brainwaves
photography
bell
stĂŠphanie
vivier
Flowers emerged in dark and still bloomed to dust. This pen and paper battle means nothing, when despite yr bst effrts you’re still locked in by the grid and to extinguish them disseminating flames, I must distinguish the self-controlled and self-imposed lest I rose one day to find us sunless, roadless, with pixelated visions of nutrition.
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And I love that I hate and hate that I love and when I ask for help it’s a plea to the only Man I know as he crawls spiderlike through his iPhone, blue illumination on his mask and claw then rises spreadwinged and flaming. Ra, Benu, Benu, deliver us from Sybaris, but, will you leave us a little something on the side?
pierced brainwaves
but i hate crowded beaches
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SUICIDE AND HONOR words
j.
w.
poltergeist
Suicide is probably one of the most difficult
own lives everyday will not help us learn
issue to address regarding mental illness,
and possibly understand this hyper-final
depression, but also society. Nontheless,
act. The following essay looks at suicide with
hushing up the fact that people take their
a mythological and cultural slant.
The history of ritual suicides in
Much like the Sati-rites of India,
the name of honor or devotion is
Japan has a tradition of ritual suicides
deep and diverse, yet usually tied to
practiced by wives of samurai
an ideal notion of virtuous duty.
that would commit jigaki to avoid capture, rape and death after their
The ego abdigates in favor of
husbands’ bearing of dishonor.
communal responsibility. One’s own honor is upheld or restored only by the denouement of taking one’s life.
These rituals were either performed voluntarily or followed capital punishment.
Japan has a long past of honor suicides for reasons such as to
The tale of The Forty-seven Ronin
avoid capture when faced with
and Shiva and Sati are similar in
defeat, compensating for wrong-
their treatment of the subjects of
doings, but also includes partriotic
selfabandonment for the honor
acts like those of the banzai
of someone other than oneself.
charges and kamikaze attacks.
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The ronin dauntlessly gave their
They act for a cause that is much
lives to avenge their master Takuni no
bigger than their selves, common to
Kami. They are fully aware that their
Eastern convictions of communal
revenge will result in their own death
ideology. The ronin act out of
through harakiri. Sati sets herself on fire to uphold her husband’s honor, who has suffered no harm other than humiliation
obligation, whereas Sati out of her own
THE EGO ABDIGATES IN FAVOR OF COMMUNAL RESPONSIBILITY
free willl. The rites are still quite alike in their themes of morals and loyalty. The story of
through her father. While the ronin
Sati and Shiva is the origin to the
primarily act out of revenge and Sati
later, more or less obligatory, hindi
out of dignity, they both face their
suicide-rites that are comparable
destiny entirely in faithful allegiance.
to those of the samurai.
The revenge of the Forty-seven Ronin took place
This true story was popularized in Japanese
in Japan at the start of the 18th century. It is
culture as emblematic of the loyalty, sacrifice,
probably the best example of the samurai code
persistence, and honor that people should preserve
of honor, bushidō, and the country’s »national
in their daily lives.
legend.« The popularity of the tale grew during the The story tells of a group of samurai who were
Meiji era of Japanese history, in which Japan
left leaderless — becoming ronin — after their
underwent rapid modernization, and the legend
daimyo — feudal lord — Asano Naganori was
became entrenched within discourses of national
compelled to commit seppuku, ritual suicide, for
heritage and identity.
assaulting the court official Kōzuke no suke. The ronin avenged their master’s honor by killing Kira, after waiting and planning for a year. In turn, the ronin were themselves obliged to commit seppuku for committing the crime of murder.
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The wives lack their own identity, much like the ronin did. There was no
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Their existence post mortem is of higher concern than their current one.
right for them to aspire a life without their husbands and their duty was
In Western society, we tend to have
to join them on the other side of life
a quite different view on devotion,
to complete their journey together.
honor and most of all, suicide. The western knight may risk his life for
The ronin, arguably having much
the woman he loves, but his actions
more to lose in their deprivation
ultimately serve his own interest
of their still existent, unharmed
over those of his object of worship.
families dependent on their survival, doubtlessly committed to their
Desire is the motivating force, rather
duties rather than personal interests. They would live and breathe their obligations through life and
than loyalty.
THE SELF IS MORE PRONOUNCED AS A SENSE FOR COLLECTIVE
death and spend every thought on their devotion.
The idea of ego or self is more pronounced and dominates a sense for collective. Other than for
blood-relations, self-sacrifice is rare and even if it does occur - it is often
Part of this can be explained through
the kind of sacrifice that is necessary
their beliefs in an afterlife, their bodies
to protect someone else from harm,
on earth serving as shells for their
not a mere principle of pride.
spirits and therefor being somewhat disposable. Life in dishonor would
Is honor for one’s own morals
be torture and ultimately lead to
nulled in Western, maybe even
their eternal doom whereas suicide
Eastern society today?
will lead to their enshrinement.
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It’s easy to condemn the beliefs
Arguably the most »popular«
of the ronin or the Hindi wives of
deaths in literature are those of
ages past. They could be seen as
Romeo and Juliet, refusing a life that
unnecessary losses of life, avoidable
no longer has hope of being shared.
ruin for their families and cruel in their way of execution. The abversion
To the public eye, why do some
we feel towards suicide surely stems
reasons justify suicide and some
from ancient religious notions about
don’t? The above mentioned example
the afterlife according to the bible.
can easily be passed off as a ficitonal — therefor obsolete — exaggeration,
Self-slaughter, here, is a deadly sin
but it can hardly be denied that the
resulting in eternal damnation. But
deaths of Syliva Plath, Virginia Woolf,
even atheists today lack sympathetic understanding for those who choose to take their own lifes.
SHOULD WE RE EVALUATE OUR IDEAS OF HONOR AND VIRTUE
Ernest Hemingway, Vincent van Gogh or Kurt Cobain are any less romantized than those of Romeo and Juliet, inspiring
Surely the religious originins of this point of view can only
generations of teen-angst ridden adolescents to this day.
be blamed to some extent. It is almost absurd to take into account how our society glamorizes celebrity suicide while it remains
Can we only accept suicides superficially, from a safe distance then? Or should we re-evaluate our ideas
completely unaccepting towards
of honor, virtue and responsibility.
that of the average citizen.
This is by no means to say that suicidal tendencies should be supported, promoted or taken lightly.
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Yet it is ironic that society of this day
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It’s curious that while we live in a
and age advocates individuality rather
world with honor killings — that seize
than social integration quite vividly
to be self-inflicted — and at the same
and still won’t accept an individual’s
time file lawsuits over the legality of
most dramatic act of self-expression
medically assisted suicides. The cases
while claiming control over their
of honor suicides in Turkey for example
lives in the form of ending them. In
do still reach alarming numbers while
the face of things beyond his or her
they have very little to do with morals
control, he or she chooses to take
and community, but are solely linked
ultimate power. Over the one thing
to the selfishness of cruel indiviuals
that is initially out of our hands.
who commit homocides led by twisted ideas of values. With their longlasting history in suicide rituals, it’s not suprising that Japan still suffers from the highest suiciderates worldwide.
Sati ( »true«) refers to a funeral ritual within
attested to have been practiced in a number of
some Asian communities in which a recently
localities in Southeast Asia, such as at Indonesia.
widowed woman immolates herself, typically on the husband’s funeral pyre.
500–600 instances of Sati are believed to occur per year in certain regions. The practice was
Mention of the practice can be dated back to
outlawed by the British Raj in 1829 within their
4th century BC. While evidence of practice only
own territories in India followed up by laws in
appears from the 5th - 9th centuries AD. Its
the same directions by the authorities in the
practice is considered to have been originated
princely states of India in the ensuing decades,
within the warrior aristocracy on the Indian
with a general ban for the whole of India issued
subcontinent, gradually gaining in popularity
by Queen Victoria in 1861. In Nepal, Sati was not
from the 10th century AD to other groups and
banned until 1920.
becoming generally sanctioned/recommended by the doctrines around the 12th century AD.
The Indian Sati Prevention Act from 1987 was further criminalizing any type of aiding,
With the military expansions outside of the Indian subcontinent, the practice has been
abetting, and even the glorifying of sati practice.
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Even in the tale of the Forty-seven
Perhaps it is our selfishness
Ronin, the »villain« character of
towards other’s actions that has
Kotsuke no Suke refuses to commit
increased even more so than the
harakiri and stands in stark contrasts
selfishness towards ourselves.
with the suicidal bravery of the ronin, his evil becomes further disparaged
Baudelaire’s suicide note read »I am
by his dishonor. Suicides or honor
going to kill myself because I cannot
killing occuring based on false ideas
continue to live, because I cannot bear
of pride or are driven by the pressure
the weariness of falling asleep and
of society are anything but honorable
waking up.« The longing for eternal
and the measures taken to prevent
sleep is known to many, but usually
them are insufficient and need our
flares up and diminishes. A kind of
desperate attention. Medically assisted
irrevocable nihilism is often based on
suicides on the other hand are much
clinical depression or other mental
more debated and still suffer from
disorders, but not all deeply negative
public scrutiny, along with those
consciousness is a diagnosis.
made by conscious individuals that are convinced of finding peace in death or any form of afterlife.
Hamlet, arguably regarded as the quintessential melancholic ponders: »to die, perchance to dream«
Schopenhauer said »There is nothing
in Act II’s infamous To be or not to be
in the world to which every man has a
monologue. »What we see when awake
more unassailable right than to his own
is death what we see asleep is sleep«
life and person.« While our sense of »self« is increasing, likely at its height
— Heraclitus of Epheus.
at least in Western culture, why is it not »allowed« to end your life?
Like Baudelaire the authors and protagonists above yearn for a dream-like state.
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A relief from the agony of waking
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The Irish philosopher and psychiatrist
life. It’s brutally honest but also
Maurice O’Connor Drury advocated a
undeniably honorable in its own right.
»revolutionary non-objectifying, non-
Descartes’ dream argument is »the
judgemental and anti-reductive mode of
postulation that the act of dreaming
therapeutic analysis. Ethical therapeutics
provides preliminary evidence that the
should acknowledge the subjective
senses we trust to distinguish reality
difference and irreducible thisness
from illusion should not be fully trusted,
of the »patient’« perhaps ultimately
and therefore any state that is dependent
»un-understandable«, the person,he
on our senses should at the very least be
termed an »individual« enigma.
carefully examined and rigorously tested to determine whether it is in fact reality.«
»The truth is that human beings are not meant to study each
That being said, there seems to be no justifiable arguments on the debate of whether or
INDIVIDUAL SUBJECTS THAT EVOLVE ACCORDING TO THEIR OWN LAWS
not suicide is right or wrong. This
other as objects of scientific scrutiny , but to see each other as individual subject that evolves according
to its own laws.«
thought does exclude preventable suicides of indeed curable illnesses.
If we truly want to decrease suicide
Rather than frowning upon
rates, maybe we should start accepting
melancholy, hopelessness and death
them rather than judging them. The
wishes, we should except them
posthumous blame we discard on
as part of human cognition.
»victims« is all the more reason for them to seek escape. We have come to
To come back to Descartes, »Sum
live in a society where insightfulness,
moribundus« should not be regarded
introversion, melancholy and
as the opposite, but part of »Cogito
nihilistic contemplation are terrible
ergo sum«. The awareness of death
character flaws in a prevailing
part of, death a choice within life.
culture of aggressive optimism.
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People who barely know one or
The attempt to morally argue
were born without the privileges of
against suicide unavoidibly
empathy council with »It’s going to
resolves to dogmatism.
be okay« chasms that most likely
The observer precludes an
drive the desolate closer to the edge
understanding of suicide by viewing
rather than pulling him back.
it as a problem rather than solution.
»No mockery in this world ever sounds
An act of selfishness and dishonor.
to me so hollow as that of being told to cultivate happiness. What does such advice
Judging whether life is or is
mean? Happiness is not a potato, to be
not worth living amounts to
planted in mould, and tilled with manure.
answering the intrinsic questions of philosophy, which can only be
Happiness is a glory shining far down upon us out of Heaven. She is a divine dew which the soul, on
achieved through personal reverie. It is tragic in its essence of being a loss in some way or another, mostly to
certain of its summer mornings, feels
those close to oneself. As much as any
dropping upon it from the amaranth bloom
death, it brings with it a large amount
and golden fruitage of Paradise.«
of mourning and pain. This is easily
— Charlotte Brontë, Villette
confused to being a tragedy to the person that chooses self-destruction.
In Conclusion, while we are
The truth is, none of us know what
convinced to be admidst a belief
is awaiting and thereby none of us
system that favors individual
are authorized to pass judgement on
thinking and conceptions of ego,
anyone’s estimation of honor, dishonor
there is profuse evidence that
and the duration of their carnal
this is not quite so. Subjective
life. To some ... having something
experiences and views become
to die for is as much a blessing as
objectified. Decisions depersonalized,
having something to live for. ∞
denunciated and even condemned.
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DEATH OF A CLOWN words
jessickah
walsh
This second essay on suicide was created
actor Robin Williams hung himself as a
following the prominent death of a celebrity
result of his mental illness. This blog-post
hyped by international media. On 11th
looks at the issue of perception of the public,
August 2014 popular comedian, and US-
medication, and stigma.
We may never know what hides behind the smiles of those we love
To end the continuing battle that rages inside of you?
and admire. Everyone has their own battle raging inside of them and only they know how to conquer it.
Robin Williams died today. It is thought that he died of suicide by asphyxiation after a
Suicide is rarely viewed in a
long battle with depression.
favourable light in the western world. Our dysfunctional relationship with death is to thank for that.
Quite understandably the internet poured with sadness at the hearing of his passing, many, posting links to
But what if, in all your authority
mental health support sites citing such
on your own mental health,
inspiring thoughts as »there is a better
death is the only viable means
way« or »suicide is not the only way«.
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But what if in some cases, it is the only way? What if suicide, for him,
procrastination, I myself have been able to think at my clearest.
was a valid and worthwhile end to the incomprehensible suffering of being asphyxiated with depression?
Why then do we question the logic of a person in the throngs of a suicidal ideation?
It is not until we are at our darkest that we are fully
ASPHYXIATED WITH DEPRESSION
aware of what we are capable of.
Depression, no matter how much of a relationship you
may have had with it yourself, is so dynamic and unique that it is
Standing on the brink of sanity,
impossible to sympathise with, at
reason, rationale, life or death,
best, a hint of empathy is possible
where there is little room for
to another persons plight.
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The value that is placed on human life means that we strive to move
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ideations will plan and »test« their plans before carrying them out.
the suicidal manic depressive away from the cliff edge and toward
Some call it »attention« or
a person centred counsellor or a
»needs seeking« behaviour,
prescription giving psychiatrist.
»a cry for help« of sorts.
Much in a similar way that we would pump a cancer riddled patient
It is a comfort to some who are left
full of medication rather than
behind to see suicides as a tragic
help them end their suffering.
accident or a cry for help that went wrong. It provides some solace to them
It is argued that unlike some
to riddle themselves with the guilt
cancers, depression is »curable«, »treatable«, or »manageable« and therefore it would be deemed »unethical« to allow a person to end their life
of not intervening
DEPRESSION A TERMINAL CANCER OF MENTAL HELTH
as a means of safe passage from its throws.
quickly enough. It will always be their fault that their loved one died. Perhaps, to others,
they breathe a sigh of relief that the suffering has come to an end. Much
But is this a myth? Is depression a terminal cancer of mental health?
like the relatives and carers of those with »locked in syndrome« (where sufferers are paralysed and locked within
What is fascinating to me regarding
their physical form) relatives of those
the death of Robin Williams is that,
with depression become carers, and can
in his mid 60’s, his suicide could
empathise in that they lost their loved
have come at any point in time.
ones some time ago when they became »locked inside their own minds«.
How many attempts or plans had he made previously? It is a known fact that sufferers of suicidal
Suicide can be a sweet release for some, on both sides.
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At 63, we can see the many »alternatives« that Robin Williams
What if the depression becomes inoperable? What then?
may have tried to »medicate« his condition; his well documented
For those »survivors« who continue
drugs and alcohol use, and from the
to manage their condition with
escalation of its use, failed stints in
»ups and downs«, »good and bad
rehab and ultimately his untimely
days«, »darkness and light« they
death from suicide, we can argue,
are the privileged few, those who
perhaps, for him, suicide was the
have, in this moment, found the
best medicine to cure his condition.
correct medication to enable them to function daily and to live in a
It is as unreasonable to state that
healthy relationship with their mind.
»I survived depression, therefore suicide is a choice« as it is to say »I survived
Suicide isn’t about »who copes
being raped and never needed to cut my
better« or »who’s more depressed«
wrists« or »I dined at the same restaurant
or »who got the right help«.
as you and never got food poisoning«. Suicide is a viable and real option We are each unique in our ability to
to cure a condition of the mind.
cope and manage our mental health, moreover, our mental health state can not be replicated in another person.
It requires discussion, awareness raising and non-judgement, as much as the many other options
There are a number of variables which dictate whether a sexual
for treatment that are available and so successful for some. ∞
abuse survivor copes with a certain set of behaviours, similarly, living with depression, a survivor will be naturally predisposed to certain coping mechanisms and behaviours. What if all these fail?
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PIGEON
words
amelia
photography
rosey
jean-baptiste
I
sinniger
at about say five past, you and me could swap places for the day.
Through the bars of his window
I’ll take all you have to offer by
dawn light came through. William
way of body and then you can take
was sat on his bed watching a
everything there is of mine.«
pigeon on the sill. It was grey and bluish with yellow round the eyes.
The words had come out a bit rushed,
It seemed content, clucking a little
and the pigeon blinked his eyes for
and shrugging. It took a few steps
a while, but then after a pause, it
forwards and pecked the air.
nodded. It thought that would be nice.
William watched for a moment, then
»Ok great!« said William. »You’ll
decided to propose a deal. He cleared
enjoy it I think, being human. All
his throat and the pigeon looked
you’ve known is living like a bird
round. »Hello, hi. Sorry« he said.
so I imagine moving like we do
»So it’s twenty to seven in the
could be fun. Imagine chewing!
morning, and I was thinking that
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Or bending down or reaching up or lying flat on a bed or the floor.« The pigeon cooed gently and
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You can eat the food if you like, you might be hungry.« William looked around the room
blinked. »And of course,« William
to see if there was anything he’d
admitted, »naturally I’m curious
missed. A mirror he couldn’t quite
too, to know how it is to eat worms
see himself in reflected back to the
and fly. That’s why we should
side of the bed he wasn’t on, and
swap, to share what we have.«
reminded him to straighten his pillow.
As if to demonstrate William lifted
»Ah yes and at three it’s exercise
his arms into the air by his side and
time, so you’ll meet the other humans.
flexed the muscles. The pigeon shuffled
It’s good to stretch your legs in the
his ring clawed feet and rearranged
yard. Someone will come and take
some feathers. The dawn was getting brighter. William lay back down on his mattress and put his
you out to it, and then
WE WILL SWAP UNTIL TOMORROW
hands behind his head.
you’ll need to line up against the wall and when someone says William, you say Yes. Then you can talk to
the others if you like, some of them »I guess there are some things you need to know, to make sure no
are Ok. To tell you the truth though, I don’t really find it worth the while.«
one guesses what we’ve done. Just everyday things. Like at half
»I suppose it can get dull«, William
past for example, someone is going to
replied to the pigeon’s querying
knock on the door and push some food
gaze, »but if it’s only for a day then
through the flap. You must say Thank
I’m sure you’ll love it. We’ll just
You loud enough for them to hear, or if
swap ‘til tomorrow and I’ve got some
you don’t feel up to that you could just
books so you can see what its like
knock back. Once or twice, it doesn’t
to read, and some bits of paper so
really matter, and then they’ll move on.
you could have a go at writing.
NOUS MAGAZINE · MISUNDERSTANDING
That mirror is good for looking at
To show William what it would be
too, I’ve put some pictures around
like the pigeon flapped open his wings
it — just old tears of newspaper and a
and momentarily lifted altogether his
postcard from a friend I used to have.«
yellowed feet and their greyish claws.
The pigeon was still listening, head tilted, but now William was smiling and looking up at the ceiling. »Sleeping is nice as well. You can
William turned back to look and laughed. »Haha yeah! You’re excited too!« Over on the clock, whose scratched
do that when it goes dark at ten -
face never seemed too far from view,
that’s when the lights turn off. It’ll be
the second hand, longer and more
strange for you to lie down won’t it!
obviously functioning was making its way upwards towards the twelve where
I think I heard once that pigeons
the short hand stood, alert and serious.
sleep in trees, but on the branches not in nests. Don’t tell me anyway, I’ll find
»But one more thing before it’s
out for myself. I’m tempted to ask you
time,« William tightened his mouth
how flying feels but I won’t, I doubt its
slightly and looked embarrassed,
something you can really describe.
»Sometimes, not often though, I
If you asked me how sitting down
might press those little stones down
feels or what its like to comb my hair
there on the floor to my skin, scrape
I’m not sure I could answer truthfully.
along the sharper edges of things.
I’m definitely excited though,
Or I might stare up at that
to see the trees beneath me
light bulb. But its no good
and get higher in the sky.«
really. I wouldn’t bother.
I AM TEMPTED TO ASK YOU HOW FLYING FEELS
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Maybe look at the light for a few minutes or longer. You can sort of feel your eyes burning. But not for too long.
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In a pecking motion he took short breaths and tilted his head to one side. Then he turned it down to look at his hands. Comparing them to the rest of
You only disappear for a minute and then you’re just back again.
the room which wasn’t living, these living hands glowed with being alive. Firstly he studied the palms, lined
But anyway,« brighter now, »don’t worry about that, the main things
and worn. Curling the fingers slowly the nails and knuckles appeared.
are the other things I was talking
The nails looked useful and so
about. Walking around the yard
did the knuckles. Small scars were
and eating food and things.«
littered on the skin like waves of surf that hit the sand. The pigeon was
The pigeon tilted his head to one
aware of the air that moved out of
side, spent a bit of time pecking
the way to let the fingers curl, and
dust on the windowsill, then
the air that moved back into the
looked at William with little beady
spaces where the fingers had been.
eyes and nodded and cooed. The second hand slid passed twelve and time got slower.
Nothing was ever empty, it thought. Everything was always being filled back up.
II The pigeon regretted the swap, and As William, the pigeon; sat on the
wished it hadn’t been so eagerly led.
bed and looked around. He saw the
He thought about how it was to beat
walls on his left and right and the one
his wings and glide through air, and
in front of him. On the table in the
how when out in the world he wasn’t
corner by the door was a small stack
the only living thing in the sky.
of paperback books and a clock. Without looking he curled the fingers The mirror and pictures made
into fists and held them tightly. Until
the walls seem bigger somehow,
the muscles in his arms began to ache.
more empty and more white.
∞
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words
emily
131
godden
9781844672714 Perhaps you find yourself being summed up, Place is a term I often use- it leaves you hope. You always end up in a certain place no further, We were in what might be called a moment – These are not things that happen as unconscious Dreamed up thinking; thought transparent The outcome that everyone thinks they know, Begins to become incoherent – negative. Its standard practice, a tenable positionA therapy, a drug: but never a cure. Not only is it not new, it is the main entrance. Articulated with the everyday discourse
NOUS MAGAZINE · MISUNDERSTANDING
It’s revealing one way of dealing, we are Entering the great performance, a higher Mythology - a theoretical facilitation and Mental automatism they could not see. Hallucination inaugurates the dimension of truth Manufactured articulations correlate the symptom Where you can say anything, even the truth. Everything is a continuation of everything else, You know the nonsense they’ve come up with; It’s the beginning of the biological dream -
It means reason encourages us to go on sleeping.
THREE — IDENTITY 9781844672714
THESE THINGS TAKE TIME
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from Louder than Bombs by the Smiths