Wednesday, April 22, 2015

Fighting My Own Brain

Namaste readers...

Yet another long gap in my posting to this blog. I really don't have any excuses at this point... Some good things have happened. Some bad things too. But there seems to be one truth about myself that I have yet to come to terms with.

That truth is not straightforward, and definitely not simple. But it's a truth that's become apparent to me these past few weeks. It may not seem true to others, but it's true to me.

My brain is trying to kill me.

Why would I say something like this on the internet, where my words are free and open for anyone to twist around and use against me?

Because I want to prove a point.

The point I want to prove is one that took me a long time to figure out, and I want others to benefit from my experience. This point is that one should not hate oneself under any circumstances. You can be your own worst critic, and yes, criticizing and questioning oneself is a good thing.

But you can't let that turn into self-torture. As for what that has to do with my brain trying to kill me...I've come to terms with that fact, that my brain isn't necessarily faulty, but it's separate from my soul. That is a very Hindu teaching, that the mind and soul are separate entities. The mind is part of the body, and one should take care of body and mind. But the soul is something completely different, and it is the most beautiful part of ourselves.

I know I'm sounding like a cliche New Age hippie here, but these facts I listed above are what kept me alive as I studied Hinduism and yoga these past few years. And they've helped me accept myself...including the part of my brain that wants me to die.

In order to prevent that part of my brain from killing me, I had to accept that it was there. I couldn't simply push it out, because it would bounce back stronger than before. I had to acknowledge it, and then ignore it.

Yes, I have had help from psychiatric medicines (I take a list of them that's a mile long) in doing this...and that has been part of the acceptance (and subsequent ignoring) of this evil part of my brain. Sometimes psychiatric medication does help. That doesn't mean it will help everybody (and that's why I object to the marketing of anti-depressants, and not anti-depressants themselves - ads for those make it seem like everyone would benefit from them, when that is simply not the case), but it's good that it's there for the people that do need it. Like me.

I know I'm rambling at this point, but I wanted to share what I've learned so that others can benefit. I'll stop this post with one simple statement:

There's hope for all of us.

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