A Persons Choice or Enslavement?

           

The following is an essay I wrote in college. In this essay I explained how people aren't allowed to make their own decisions on their own free will. That other forces are put into account and they tell us what is right, wrong and how we should be in our lives. This essay received an F due to a "Radical Viewpoint" and "Personal Thoughts Based On No Facts".  

In the 1990s a rapper known as Ice T released a musical album underneath the name Body Count. Within this album was a track titled Cop Killer. This track was in response to the growing police brutality in the Los Angeles area. Within the song Ice T claims that—in reaction to police brutality— the people should head out and kill any kind of authority that resembles the police. “I got my brain on hype, tonight will be your night. I got this long-assed knife and your neck looks just right. My adrenaline's pumping, I got my stereo bumping, I'm about to kill me something. A pig stopped me for nothing” (Ice T). Reaction was fierce. Within a short time of the songs release, riots and police shootings formed around the country and government organizations wished to remove the song from its existence. When an individual shows obedience or disobedience to a certain person or group—whether it be an organization, god, famous figures or your peers—and if you have the conviction to do everything they tell you to do, you will be changed. From whom you were to what they desire to turn you into.

            

Examples of this are shown all throughout history ever since the beginning of time—even if you believe in the Bible. In 1973 a man known as Philip G. Zimbardo conducted a psychological experiment to find out about the effects of prison life. Zimbardo, a well known psychologist, created a mock prison and placed ten prisoners and eleven guards—from all over the United States—inside the basement of Stanford University’s psychology building. He wanted to simulate the psychological state of prisoners in this mock prison by making the sense of time lacking, the feelings of being powerless and make everyone de-individualized.

Within the first night riots broke out and the twenty-one individuals of this prestigious town took a turn for the worse.

”At first they (the guards) insisted that reinforcements be called in…. The guards met and decided to treat force with force. They got a fire extinguisher that shot a stream of skin-chilling carbon dioxide and forced the prisoners away from the doors; they broke into each cell, stripped prisoners naked, took the beds out, forced the prisoners who were ring leaders into solitary confinement, and began to harass and intimidate the prisoners.” (Zimbardo 736)

I personally think that these people wouldn’t act like this in a natural environment. Zimbardo claimed that they were all mentally stable, physically healthy, mature, law-abiding citizens. So why would a person as healthy and as normal as these individuals act in such a way that they become threatening to their peers? Why would the prisoners choose to disobey their present keepers, even though they new the present danger of such actions? Zimbardo followed with further research.

Zimbardo states that slowly after time the prisoners started to accept where they were and even started to behave even with the inhuman things the guards were doing to them. In recorded conversations changed from girlfriends, career plans and hobbies to escape plans, food complaints and irritating tasks guards were asking. “These immediate survival concerns made talk about the past and future an idle luxury” (737) Prisoners soon became violent and guards started to reign over them like dictators.  A guard wrote that a prisoner started to attack him and in response he hit him with his club, the guard became aggravated and wanted to start a fight with him.

Violence grew more and more as days passed and in thirty-six hours Zimbardo was forced to release a prisoner because of extreme depression, uncontrollable crying and fits of rage. A completely healthy individual became unstable just in a course of thirty- six hours within a mock prison. How could this happen? How could you be totally involved by an experiment that you believe that the fake aspects of life can actually be true? Do you actually have to believe in what’s happening or does your surroundings make what you believe in? I believe in the later. Naturally people believe in what is given to them, they take what popular culture says what is right. America paints the perfect human is lean, muscular and fair but is this true beauty? Outside of America it seems to be different among other countries.  Do Americans believe that this picture of an individual is perfect? It seems so because that is what we are served on a day-to-day basis.  

After six days Zimbardo’s experiment was assigned to set to close due to continuing violence and growing insanity.  David Rosenhan (A colleague of Zimbardo) states, “…Once a sane person (pretending to be insane) gets labeled as insane and committed to a mental hospital, it is the label that is the reality which is treated and not the person” (742).  Furthermore, previous to Zimbardo, personnel from Illinois role-played mental patients and staff in a weekend simulation of a mental ward. Soon after the start, the mock mental patients started to show signs of uncontrollable weeping, depression and hostility to further confirm the belief that the environment makes the person.

In several years prior to Zimbardo in the 1950s an experiment by Solomon E. Asch, a psychologist at Rutgers University, was conducted about opinions and social pressure. He showed a group of seven to nine college students’ cards with lines on it. One with one line and the second with a set of lines, the objective was to match the card with one line to a line on the second card. You would think simple but after several trials Asch began to change the responses. In one variation one person was varied to fifteen others. The subject was supposed to pick the right line while the others chose otherwise. When one said different than the correct answer the subject was swayed little, when two said different the subject accepted the wrong answer 13.6 of the time. When three claimed that the wrong answer was the right one the subject’s lack of choice turned to 31.8 percent (Asch 728-29). How could one individual accept a wrong answer even if the physical proof says otherwise? You can obviously see that one line is longer or shorter than another. Peer pressure plays a great role in a person’s decision; not very many individuals’ wants to be the “odd ball” in a whole group. One wants to be no different than the person next to him, this influences styles and thought processes from culture to culture—which makes humans unique. But every once and a while one person stands up from the social norms and demands change. This person becomes great in the eyes of his fellow people, isn’t this what we all want to become? Then why do majority of us in every day society act like everything is just a cookie cut to another?

Lastly In an experiment in 1963, Stanely Milgram (a Yale psychologist) wanted to know what motivated the Nazis to go so far to inflict pain on another person with desire to commit genocide. The experiment consists of three people the teacher (who gives a electric shock), the learner (The person who receives the shock) and the experimenter. The learner is set into an electric chair and is read a list of word pairs and he will be tested on the second pair. If the learner creates an error he will be electrocuted from small to increasing intensity. The catch is the learner receives no shock and the experiment is to see how far an individual would go when he is ordered to inflict increasing pain another individual. Milgram predicted that about six percent of the teachers would go full distance (Milgram 696). On the first trial the teacher asks periodically if she should continue, the experimenter says yes. As soon as she reached 210 volts of electricity she had no longer a desire to continue the experiment and left. 

After a while Milgram found that his predictions were wrong. Out of all of his subjects twenty-five of the forty teachers actually obeyed the experimenter all the way. When the experimenter accepted all responsibility of what happened to the learner the teacher. “The essence of obedience is that a person comes to view himself as the instrument for carrying out another person’s wishes, and he therefore no longer regards himself as responsible for his actions” (702).  A person feels no anguish for another when he accepts that he will get no punishment for his doings. So does this motivate serial killers to do all they can because they fear no punishment in the future? This may be so because serial killers seem to be emotionless including the sense of fear.

When do we as individuals stop obeying what we are given and told and actually think for ourselves? When do we have enough self control to have a voice for ourselves but also are above anarchy? Individuals show obedience and disobedience every day to break social norms and to do anything for their own self gratification all this is motivated by organizations, famous figures, your god, your peers and anything else that can surround you in everyday society. Ever since we were born we are blocks ready to be molded from the day you take your first breath to the day you lay six feet below. Forces of an unforeseen nature attack us everyday and choose to change our morals and how we view things. Humanity as we know it is getting more and more vulnerable to this force everyday, how will you be changed?

Asch, Solomon E. “Opinions and Social Pressure.” Beherns and Rosen 683-87.

Beherns, Lorence and Leonard J. Rosen, Eds. Writing and Reading Across the Curriculum. 11^th Ed. New York: Longman, 2011. Print.

Gore, Tipper. “Hate, Rape and Rap.” The Washington Post 8 Jan 1990: A15.

Ice T. Cop Killer.

Milgram, Stanley “The Perils of Obedience.” Beherns and Rosen 692-704.

Remember me

The Helping Hand That I Bit Out Of Spite

     “Do you feel like you have become a failure? Your actions defiantly say you feel that way.” I looked at his icy cold eyes—I couldn’t believe this was this was the man that I was supposed to spill my guts to.

     “I’m paid to listen, everything you say is in between you and me.” I laughed. “I have a feeling your not taking this serious enough, your parents are scared for you, I’m scared for you.” I just stared into his eyes as I was thinking about what to tell him.

     First of all I don’t have a family, they are either dead or dying, but that’s everyone in a nutshell isn’t it? A pessimistic view yes, but in all reality that’s what is happening. I never remembered meeting my mother’s brother due to him dying when I was at a very young age. Suicide due to the consequences of Russian roulette is what the authorities claimed—the family said otherwise. Her brother obtained more and more bad influences in his life throughout his years. Some people just aren’t good people; some people would kill their friends over disagreements. That’s what the family claimed. So his friend went to trial, convicted of the murder of Sean Alan Coleman. Long story short he still walks these streets and broke the hearts of what was left of a family. We failed to accuse that man of injustice and we failed to stay together. I blinked and then I just continued to stare at him.

     “Is it natural for you when you just stare someone down? To be honest it almost makes me feel threatened” I smiled then I finally spoke.
     

     “Its just how I look at someone, you do want to know I’m listening right?’

     “Yes.” He hesitated to say. “Its just not very common to see someone very intent to keep attention.” I continued to stare—why did I hate this man? He reminded me of my dad, did I hate my dad? My dad does have some characteristics that I absolutely hate but that doesn’t mean I hate the man? I guess I did.

     “Are you actually listening to me?” I shook out of my thought.

     “Sorry, I was just thinking.”

     “What were you thinking about?”

     “Family.”

     “Was it your mother? You seem to talk about her very much” That struck a nerve and I broke out crying, I don’t understand why I was doing this.

     “No, it wasn’t,” I said. He looked confused.

     “Do you feel like you have failed your mother? She has had the exact same problems as you are starting to experience and you have always said you wanted to be better in her eyes.”

     “This was unavoidable.” I said. “Why believe in god, or to take the drugs, or even love if I know I’m just going to be depressed and dead on the inside? I understand you are trying to get me to talk but I cant talk, I’m sorry but this isn’t going to work.” He looked down and started to look down and started writing into his notepad. I got frustrated, I have been told that I’ve had bipolar tendencies—I confused him, hell I confused myself; I had no idea what just happened.

     “You are, different. You’re smart, unbelievably. You excel in school, but only when you come. Which isn’t often enough, you’re a person that I would like to call a minimal effort maximum quality. People who are normally smart but lazy are like this, but it isn’t because you’re lazy. It’s because of the dark clouds that go over your body. Right?” I nodded. “I’m not a person to encourage taking medications, that’s why I am here, I am used as a alternative medicine.” I don’t want pills. Observing my mother all my life she has been living on pills—I don’t want that at all.

     “I don’t know where this is going, I asked if you write any of your feelings down and you said yes. Do you have any of your writings in that notebook you have there?” He pointed at the black college ruled notebook I had at my side.

     “Yes.” I went into my shell; I almost didn’t want him to read anything in the black cave that I owned—it was practically a diary to me. The black notebook was full of poetry and stories that I have written in the past talking about my upcoming condition and what I felt about life and death. How I viewed my family and god, how I saw the world and what I’ll do with my life. The first eighty pages were full of thoughts and feelings that I kept in the darkest reaches of my soul.

     “Can I see it?” I hesitated at first but eventually I knew I had to hand him the notebook. I lifted the book up and I felt the front cover, it felt no different from an ordinary notebook but it just felt different in a thoughtful way—like the way the bible is, but this wouldn’t amount to anything compared to the bible. I handed him the book and he gripped the book as if it was going to float away. He started to open to the first page and the he looked up.

     “Is there anything you wanted me to read in particular?” I nodded no and he nodded back and then he started reading the first thing he saw out loud. “If love is a gun then I have been shot, if bullets are hate then I have a lot. I started to zone off into another place. “I fall straight down and look at the sky, who even tried, and who has even cared?” Several months ago I began to feel more than I could take and I cracked—my compromised clarity became weakened but I was nonchalant. “Its like I’m seeing doubles, like I cannot stand. I’m like a blood donor the bloods not on my hands.” Why am I still here? Why did I stop? He tipped his glasses to the tip of his nose and he started to rub his eyes with his index finger and his thumb.

     “What are you thinking?” I asked.

     “Trying to figure out what all this means”

     “It means nothing, the purpose of it is now invalid, it doesn’t mean anything anymore.”

     “Why do you say that?”

     “It had emotion behind it, the emotion is now gone, it was a failed attempt to crawl out of a locked cage. It means nothing anymore.”

     “You are here due to a failed attempt against your own life. I think you are treating this whole scenario with less seriousness than you’re supposed to at this moment.” I winced and I began to prepare to snatch the book away from him.

     “I think.” I started to say. “That this isn’t necessary because I’m not willing to change at the moment, I feel that this is just a waste of my time.”

     “I hope that you will come back someday but until you have a desire to change I cant do anything for you.” I stood up and started to head out the door. I turned around to look at him and I started to cry again,

     “You know. I never did thank anyone for stopping me that day, I feel like I was cheated out of what I was going to do but everything does happen for a reason. Maybe I’m not a failure; maybe something is supposed to happen out of this. Only time can tell I guess.” I walked out the door and I never saw the man that was supposed to help me with all my instabilities ever again. Maybe for the better, but through the years the alternative medicine showed up on the palms of my hands and I became everything I had no desire to become.

Remember me

The Human Populace

     When stripped of everything you have whether it be what you own or the people you love around you, or religion or whatever you hold dear to your heart, we become savage. All mentally stable humans that have a common sense of reality when taken away from everything present you have will fight for their very own survival. Though very pessimistic I find this to be true, like everything else we are apart of we are still one with everything else, we are animal. It doesn’t comfort me when I take a approach saying that all humans are naturally evil but seeing everything around me I find this to be what we are apart of in everyday society.

     We are sinners, we are whoremongers, the prime factor in us is self gratification, yet we still have that light in us that helps us to show grace. We have the determination to compel to do what we want whither it be for our own salvation or the help of others. What might you say is this? Though we are animal, this separates us from the rest, we have a surplus of good and rewarding actions. Not all of us operate just for the benefit of ones self, though we do come across this more often in present day circumstance. Most politicians are for own personal gain, television personalities are dog eat dog, and the media always tries to put you down. This is, as we know it, our present day reality and this makes us more and more like robots or creatures without a simple view of what we care about and what we need are two different things, than what we call the human populace.

     With everything we have to this day we become more immune to what people throw at us but is this immune a defense or numbing of? We can say that we are good people in this present day but if you look hundreds or even thousands of years into the past the human populace would look at us and claim that even the most culturally acceptable man would be a devil. Why is this? Is it because we are numb? Or do we just advance as fast as technology does? We are keeping up with the times and that is killing our own morals and our own self actualization, we are truly becoming a lost people, a phrase I like to say a lot 'becoming a dyeing breed.

     Look at everyone in the world, look at this man, look at that woman, who do you seem fit to become a leader? Who do you trust the most to hold your secrets? In all reality none of us are because of the single fact of emotion. Every living person has an Intelligence Quotient lower than seventy when emotion comes into play. We make stupid mistakes, we do stupid things and we do them even more while emotionally evolved than when we become intoxicated, whatever substance it may be. But this thing we call emotion becomes very important to us. It enables us to do what we feel that feels right, it helps us to cope with everyday things and it especially separates us from everything else because that is what makes us human. If we had no emotion we would have no mercy we would have no compassion we would have no care in the world what others think and we would do everything for our own personal gain. Does this mean that this generation is becoming more animatronic than past generations? I would say so.

     We lack emotion, that is simple enough. We watch our murder investigations, we kill our fellow men, we do what we please, every one of us and we say we do this all because its entertainment. We are becoming numb to what society has to offer and we are becoming no greater than the machine, in fact we are becoming just like them. We are becoming immune to what this world to offer and at the pace that we have been going at, we can no longer turn back. We look at dead bodies on television though our own eyes and we do not realize that that body is no longer in motion, that that body has lost all of its human characteristics and I weep. Because we are just like those lifeless bodies on the ground and in the lakes, we have become just like them everything we know is over and we can now start trusting those lifeless bodies more than our fellow man. Humans deceive, humans are cruel, and humans are war freak psychopaths, and there is nothing else that we can do.

     We created this, even me, even you the fellow reader and I think to myself what can we do? Unity, have moral convictions that we are growing more and more to lack, stop following the main stream and do something that you please to do for your very own self. Now this sounds like what we are trying to avoid, but it isn’t. Fighting for your own personal salvation physically and socially is different than fighting for your salvation interpersonally and mentally. Treat others like your own, let them do what they want because it is there life but be there to help them when times get rough. You might now think I am contradicting myself, but im not. There are different levels and paths for every single thing you do and if you do it equally, overall and collectively it will never hurt the thing formally known as the human populace. Extremes is what hurts people, people that do thing in either black or white, people that have no understanding for their fellow man.

     Show that acceptance for others, and accept yourself, do yourself a favor and do what you always wanted to do. For you are a rock and neither the winds nor the oceans will tear you apart for as long as you don’t let them. Don’t create the illusions of what you think make you happy. Always remember individuality is key and will be our very own salvation when everything that seems wrong stares us in the face. I wish you the best of luck, the generation formally known and the human populace. I wish you the best of years.


























































Remember me

Internal Dominance

Following is a short story I wrote in college...




     As I sit in this house I couldn’t help but to notice silence, tranquility, and peace. It made me uneasy. I shuffled around corners looking for something, something that could entertain, and nothing. My room was dark, I was nearly deathly afraid of the dark­—what was I doing here? All I had was a bed; I didn’t like to keep things that entertain me in my room because a bedroom is for sleeping. I opened the blinds and a burst of sunlight came in and I looked at the front lawn.

     Our lawn was sloped to such a degree you could roll a ball down it and you could watch it roll to the other side of town. The houses exterior is full of tans and whites—a shimmering building on top of a mountain. I looked away from the window and I decided to leave.

     I continued from my room to the one across the narrow hall. It was darker than the one I was confined in, quieter than the one from before. Desk, computer, television, assortments of books, this is where I put my objects for entertainment and then I heard voices. I followed the sound approaching my room again then taking a right before I entered my room. This was the living room, but for being how quiet it was it felt like a room for the dead.

     Ten foot high ceilings, extensive windows, I felt like I was in a cathedral. I took a right staying adjacent to the wall to reach the next corner in the room; this was where the fireplace was. I looked at the fireplace, a granite and wood mantle with a rope design—this was a well-crafted work. I dreamed of days when it was on and it would heat the whole house, snow was on the ground and everyone was “in the spirit”. I loved days like that, white reminded me of pure and clean, isn’t that what everyone wants to be? Every person either religious or atheist, emotional or numb, people still have a craving to be pure or their sense of clean. I feel clean, or even pure doesn’t have a concrete definition though it is commonly known as good. I continued to stare at the fireplace and I couldn’t help but to think, “am I this envisioned clean that has been created by society?”—I shivered. I hoped that someday I could sit by this fire again; I just didn’t have the patience to wait.

     I heard the talking again and I turned around to see the kitchen I walked forward and I looked to the right to see outside the windows. Green and red, my parent’s garden. My mom loves roses; so much she devoted our backyard to it. Red, red-yellow, yellow, yellow-white, white-red a cornucopia of various colours of roses. My mom was a florist before she lost her vision, but because she lost her vision doesn’t mean that she still doesn’t love flowers but she always loved roses.

     When I was young my mom lost her vision due to a blood clot in her brain, she was misdiagnosed, doctors say it was her fault. They say it was because she wasn’t taking her medication when she had a stroke, but in all reality they prescribed the wrong dosage. A year after my mom’s vision went from failing to inexistent, she has accepted the disadvantage and embraced it with open arms. She hasn’t changed since then. She still loves the things she used to though she cannot see them. Reading books turned to listening to audiotapes and cooking turned to being cooked for. This helped me to mature faster, and if it weren’t for that I wouldn’t be here this day.

     I continued to the kitchen and I passed the arch that separated the two rooms. The ceilings were taller than before and the light was positioned just right that it looked like the moon was only twelve feet away from me. Cabinets touch every wall and they nearly touch the moon. I stand there in awe for a few minutes trying to listen for the sound, further into the kitchen is my parents bedroom door. It wasn’t coming from here.

     I moved forward to leave the kitchen passing my parents door into another hallway. I took a left to approach a long dark hallway to see the door to the basement. If the upstairs would drive me crazy then the downstairs would make me clinically insane. I looked down the staircase and I realized this place can change my life, and so it did.

     Depression is a mental disorder that gives low self-esteem, lowered mood, loss of interest and affected sleeping habits. When in a depressed episode the individual will experience helplessness, insomnia, hallucinations and thoughts of death and/or suicide. Depression is natural in my family and has been passed on from generation to generation-through genetics; it was now my turn to carry the curse. The first signs of depression presented themselves when I turned fifteen, along with insomnia and a mild case of schizophrenia

     Several years later I lived in that exact same house but the house only had a few changes, but the house seemed less like a house and more like a home. I grew to love the quiet, and soon enough I moved down into the very basement I feared. The basement was laid out just like the upper floors but even less sunlight and smaller ceilings. The confined space felt soothing, quiet seemed to be my relaxer, my therapist.

     It was now winter and by this time I realized that things weren’t quite what they used to be. I viewed everything different now up was now down, the little child that annoyed you every minute was now a keep to yourself, quiet individual. I breathed in the warm air coming from the vents, I will never step outside when there is snow unless if I have to. I viewed white differently now. It felt disgusting; it felt like the very tomb I once lived in. I wanted to leave that colour behind me. I was pure, I felt clean few years prior but now I didn’t, did this curse make me feel this way? I didn’t care. I look at everyone in the world, trying to fit in, do all they can do to be accepted and I felt like the only one that was accepted but not at the same time. I felt perfect but flawed, I now knew I lived in an odd world, and I was one of its odd members.

     I left to the upstairs and not a single wall is white now, browns and greens now filled the halls. I walk back into the kitchen and realized what I once was, and how much I wanted to be that way again, but I now enjoyed the new me, —“Is that ignorance? Or is it Acceptance?” I thought. Right I looked outside I felt nauseous. Just a little bit of light meant a lot to me, the natural body needs sunlight to live. I needed sunlight to live especially with depression; I found that I was just like a natural man. This home is beautiful, and it will always remain a home to me.

Remember me

The Second Chance

Once is never enough. When you try something once you eventually have a craving to do it again. You never want to do something once but sometimes once is enough. Whenever you think back to that once in a lifetime memory it reminds you of that moment you stepped off the train and saw a new countryside or breathed in 104 degree hot air for the first time. It can be anything, but if something bad happens will you give that bad thing a second chance?

If someone kills your significant other, if you ever were to date again would you let the same thing happen again? As much as you want to say no, your never the one to dictate what will happen. I feel that everything happens for a reason but the reasons arent always clear. Then thats when I think everything is random and some people just get the short end of the chain. I guess that could be likely too.

Ive been thinking alot about second chances through the past day and I cant help myself to make a decision on where I stand if people, instances, or anything else that occurs deserves to manifest itself around my life. I have never been one to do that, I have never got over a grudge and I have never fully trusted anyone. I guess I got the short end of the stick....Im just the unfortunate one. 

So here I am sitting on my couch, trying to figure out what the next step is in my life and I almost just want to keep everything in a halt. Im ready to breathe, I want to breathe but these walls are closing in and all I can think about is how claustrophobic I am.

Have I done anything wrong? I would like to think not. I dont judge anyone on their appearance and I dont dislike them till they have wronged me and showed me that they are a shitty human being. I listen to my friends and I always have advise, but only if they want to hear it. I never yelled at anyone and if im mad I only hide in a cave and vent everything myself. Thats when I realize that I never have let anyone return the favour. I remember several years ago I had a rough break up with a girlfriend and long story short I pushed everyone away and I still do to this day. That moment changed me and I was to never trust anyone and the only thing my friends wanted to do was help me. I never let them and I became a cut-throat which eventually led them to stop telling me about their lives and now no one really talks to me without me establishing the conversation. Soon after that, I stopped being the one who was the motivator and friends that I gathered with on a weekly to daily basis I now see every once and a while.

This is what I have become but I realize that maybe this has happened for a reason. That maybe in order to be comfortable with others, I need to become comfortable with myself. I know that still hasnt happened yet. 

When I become "normal" again. When I tell all my friends I have changed, do I deserve a second chance? I guess its their choice. I can never make the decision of others and I never can suede them to make a certain decision. The only thing I really can do is show that I changed and I will do anything to prove my unconditional love....but it needs to be shown on my own free will. No one wants to see a puppet being manipulated to what you want. You can only hope that the hand in the puppet is the one that has always controlled it and it will do anything to prove trust again. You can never trust anyone till you can show that you trust yourself.

Remember me

Stabbed?

Everybody has some dose of paranoia, 


Whether it be "I think someone is watching me" or a suspicion that a significant other MAY be seeing another. Either way it runs naturally through every persons blood, now im going to cut to the chase.


As much I would like to keep my personal,personal life out of the open, I feel inclined to talk about me and my high case of paranoia.


Simple enough, its out in the open. Im paranoid all the time. I always think im being watched, that microphones are tapped and video cameras are wired, all around me. But there is a difference of a dysfunctional form of paranoia and a controllable paranoia.


The dysfunctional is the ones you see scratching at their skin believing anything is possible, that have the hardest time in life. I hate to sound judgmental but I feel these are the weak of mind but I wouldnt say that they are actually lacking IQ. They are the ones--just staying in the realm of paranoia--that have to obtain antipsychotic drugs to maintain a grip to reality, before I step further lets see the other side.


Controllable paranoia is exactly as it sounds. You have the same symptoms but how it is treated is a little bit different. You have the common sense that even though you firmly believe that someone is watching you, you ignore the fact thats in your mind and you believe what you dont believe. 


So you sit in your room and you get that feeling that someone is behind you or peeking through the door and what do you do? You can check but the key is to check your surroundings. If you are truly paranoid, you know if someone is in your house, you know if your door is locked and you know when someone is driving down your block--welcome to my life. Do you check? I dont. Even though every gut tells me that something is watching, listening, going to happen, is happening right now, I still dont. 


I can say that I trained myself in the ancient mountains of Zabala and I gained wisdom from eating the root of a old...stick. But im not gloating in wisdom or anything. I just know the statistics and common sense. 


When does the ignoring and actually not accepting danger actually occur? No one can say. the fact that something is a statistic or is known to your mind, is because it ACTUALLY HAPPENS. Believe it or not but if it exists then it EXISTS. You could be in this next minute, become a statistic of rape, murder, suicide, freak accidents, or even divorce but more times than not, it doesnt "just happen".


Sometimes you are so in denial, you ignore your instincts and you ignore what you actually believe that is fact and you accept the non-reality that you created to cope with what you thought wasnt real. 


I knew someone that had this instance. His significant other was also seeing someone else other than him. He felt that she wasnt faithful but knowing that he is paranoid he disproved all that was fact and believed his own reality that he made for himself. He never did believe his gut until all was shown to him. What happened to this couple? History is still to tell, but when you achieve such a blow to your beliefs and what was truth, it destroys your vision. Everything turns upside down and you cant believe anything that stands before you. Everybody's word that was once known as truth becomes lies. You still struggle to move forward, but you dont even believe that forward is the right direction anymore and all you can believe is what you still believe. 


That everyone lies, everyone is human, everyone hides and everyone can change.






Remember me

The Epidemic

Ive been making arguments on suicide to others claiming its something it needs to be addressed, the following writing debates about that topic, more specifically in Idaho and high suicide states. I obtained several of these statistics through Psychology academic journals and newspaper articles, this doesnt go full credit to me. 

Suicide is the third leading cause of death among individuals in the United States from ten to nineteen and is rising more as the years pass. One fifth of teens in today’s society have at least thought of committing suicide and suicide rates in the United States are twice as high than other industrialized countries such as China, Australia and Japan. While hitting closer to home suicide rates in Idaho are and have been ranked within the top ten highest in the nation and is advancing by 14% each year. With that in view for it to be an epidemic what factors motivate individuals in Idaho to do this? What can we do about it? Does it have to due with budget cuts that people see more and more each day, or could it be some other unseen factors at work? Before we can start drawing conclusions, the first thing is to figure out what the problem is at its roots.

Statistics on suicide are the people who actually complete the act, but what about those who don’t succeed or haven’t done the act yet?  Those people are in just as much pain as the ones who actually go through it mentally and sometimes physically. Those who have an unsuccessful suicide attempt can just as well live with the scars or even be disabled the rest of their lives due to the severity of the attempt. What about those who aren’t in the main statistics? The National Institute of Mental Health states that for every successful attempt there are eleven unsuccessful ones. With that in view should we consider those who are in physical or mental pain part of the statistics? What about those who haven’t done the attempt but have the pain such as depressive mental disorders or even non-suicidal self-injury or NSSI? The strongest predictor of a future suicide attempt in individuals is in fact NSSI in itself.

Up to 14% of all adolescents deliberately injure themselves. You might be thinking that it doesn’t sound like much but putting it in real numbers there are approximately 6 billion people in the world and 1/5^th of the population are adolescents. 168 million adolescents make up that 14% of individuals who intentionally hurt themselves and the average deaths worldwide per year is around 57 million. Putting the percentage of NCCI in full numbers makes it seem like it’s a serious problem but why do people do it? Psychiatrists Paul Wilkinson and Ian Goodyer state that it is to relieve stress, sadness and guilt because they have no other proper ways to cope with everyday life. The various ways to use NCCI is cutting, burning, stabbing, hitting or various other ways that can induce bleeding or bruising. Why aren’t any of these people part of any statistic? This is obviously a problem that needs to be addressed but there are others that tend to be neglected.

Around 31% of people worldwide have a form of a depressive disorder! It is very common to know one of these people personally but do you know how they feel? It is shown that out of all these individuals with depression 85% of them there condition is moderate to serious by affecting the individual’s everyday life. How might they be affected? It is shown that depressed people find it difficult to concentrate, feel worthless or anxious many even find it hard just to get out of bed. Depression is the leading cause of suicide and what do people do about it? People with depression rarely see to have counseling let alone even having someone notice their condition. So what factors put Idaho in such a chokehold that people are forced into depression, NSSI and suicide? Yet again I went to the root of the problem and I have found four factors; budget cuts, our location, gun laws and substance abuse.

The big problem in Idaho—also among other states— are budget cuts. If you cut Schools and higher education today, then you will run the risk of a less educated, less competitive work force.  If you cut rehabilitation programs you will run the risk of expanding the prison population tomorrow and it’s the same thing for mental health. As of 2010, Idaho’s budget committee took $2.4 million from mental health services even when the State Planning Council in Mental Health warned that it would lead to more suicides. Since 2008 funding for mental health has dropped from $40 million to $32 million this year. Resulting, the death toll of suicides rose up 19%— fatalities at 300— as of 2009 and is rising 5% each year. But Idaho has always lacked health services. Idaho doesn’t even have a suicide hotline of its own. Idaho relies on an office in Oregon who takes all our calls, I find that very unsatisfactory.

Idaho takes a great deal of isolation. Since towns are small and wide spread throughout the state physical isolation is added to mental. How many opportunities does a person who lives hundreds of miles away from the nearest town with a psychiatrist have? Rarely do people with depression in Idaho seek for help due to inconvenience and lack of money. Along with social isolation studies show that further north you live, the more likely you will have depression and commit suicide due to the lack of sun and climate. Since it is clearly evident that the higher north you are makes it more likely to be vulnerable to mental disorders, shouldn't, mental health coverage be higher as you head up the continents? It doesn’t seem quite so.

Gun laws are hardly restrictive in Idaho but when you look at most of the deaths by suicide, 65% of them involve a gun. I went further to figure out what is going on and in 1997 gun suicide cases in the United States was 1,400 while the next highest was Canada at 153. Gun suicides are remarkably high in the United States. To create a further problem I looked at Child Access Prevention laws in the United States in which state that if you own a gun, by law you must store guns where others—mostly children—cannot find them. Idaho is one of the few states that do not have this law furthering suicides of adolescents from ten to nineteen. I’m not saying that guns need to be more restricted in Idaho but more simply out of the reach of children.

Another big problem in Idaho is substance abuse. In a short period of time of 2001 northern Idaho was known as the meth capitol of the world. In my opinion that isn’t a title that I’m proud to have. Statistics show that suicide is done half of the time while under the influence of alcohol or drugs and I believe it. It is fairly well known that alcohol and certain illegal drugs are depressants in which make you even more depressed if you were depressed in the first place. They make your mind unclear and your actions very questionable and all in all if your thinking of committing suicide substance abuse will only make a thought come true.

When everything is said and done I think it is very clear on what we are supposed to do to help the escalating suicides in Idaho. Find more funding for mental health, find support groups that will help survivors and or look out for those who soon will. Along with that have a few laws keeping guns away from children and crack down more on the substance abuse that is running free in our state. Though this may seem simple I would imagine it would be very hard, money doesn’t grow on trees. But when the positive is presented in front of you how can you not want to stop an epidemic from happening? 

Remember me