“Brain Damage…”


First off, let me make this quite clear.
This is my opinion.
If modern psychiatry helps you out, then that’s great, and you should carry on.
If your meditation is doing something good for you, then that’s great, and you should carry on.

For me, it was a total farce. Trying to squeeze me into whatever box they projected upon me.
I had been sat with a supposed bereavement councillor, at our first meeting, for about two minutes on one occasion, and happened to mention that I was “passionate about art”, and she immediately interrupted me saying, “Oo! That’s the first emotional thing you’ve said!”
I recall she had a most satisfied look upon her face, but not because WE were getting somewhere, but because SHE’D done something right.
Holy fucking shit, I thought. If you knew the tiniest thing about me, you’d know just how easily I’m able to get my heart out, slap it on the table…and let’s have a bloody good rummage in here shall we?
At one school I attended a tutor nicknamed me “Honest” for crying out loud!
Oh! so I’m suffering from bereavement am I? I think not.
When my Mother passed away, I really did experience deep solid feelings that, at last, she had found the peace she’d sought throughout her awful life.
I’d never seen her so restful as when I sat with her lying in state.
I slept in the room by her coffin, and what tranquillity! Such a calmness, after such a stormy life! Such completeness.
Bereavement counselling? Oh do behave!
Try a deep spiritual alienation, lost in my own desert of doubt and agony! A soul and mind filled with loving awareness, existed in a cruel and uncaring world….
But hey! That was then…this is now.
I’m smiling.
I walked away.


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