Mad World

                                                                Mad World

        Out of all the songs that really get to me Mad World was both the first and the saddest. In 2010 when I was on the verge of attempting suicide it was the straw that broke the camels back. If I never came across the song for the first time that day it wouldn't have prevented that attempt but probably would have slightly postponed it. I was already 99.9% of the way there but the depressing song was the only thing I felt I could relate to since at that time since I was seen as having a mental illness rather than physical one and couldn't connect with others suffering like I can now since I never got a real diagnosis. I overdosed with the pills shortly after it ended and so now I of course associate the song with that traumatic event, meaning it can really affect me despite the fact I'm no longer miserable though I still of course have moments of feeling down.. Let me again acknowledge my interpretation of the song is not how the artist intended. Here is the link: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4N3N1MlvVc4

All around me are familiar faces, Worn out places, worn out faces: This makes me think about the constant unproductive doctor appointments and the scowl of my teachers when neither understand what I was going through. You see the same unhelpful and accusatory people that were meant to help and support you telling you to try harder.

Bright and early for their daily races, Going nowhere, going nowhere: I was not on any effective medication at this point, so my insomnia was as bad as it had ever been. I forced myself to get to class, a monumental effort when you are that exhausted and in pain. I then fall asleep in those classes; I was bright and early for the daily races that were going nowhere. On the days I wasn't able to get out of bed, my family resorted to dipping my feet in baggies of water filled with ice to wake me up. It got me up and then I of course promptly fell asleep in class again. When I was on morphine I attended more classes but couldn't absorb any of the information, going nowhere.

Their tears are filling up their glasses, No expression, no expression: Tears filling up their glasses is pretty self-explanatory. Lots of tears were shed. Then the morphine dulled my mind and made me apathetic, while also hardly improving my pain. I was zombified, having no expression.

Hide my head I want to drown my sorrow, No tomorrow, no tomorrow: I wanted to drown my sorrow and ensure there will be no tomorrow by dying.

And I find it kinda funny, I find it kinda sad, The dreams in which I'm dying are the best I've ever had: When you're suicidal for an extended length of time you become unable to think about much else. It dominates your every thought and emotion, even when asleep. I would dream of dying, of the pain ending. And it wasn't a nightmare.
            
I find it hard to tell you, I find it hard to take, When people run in circles it's a very very
mad world, mad world: Exhaustion from a rare complicated medical issue can cause a vicious cycle. You need to be able to articulate what's wrong to get proper help, and the more exhausted you are the more crucial the help is. However, the more exhausted you are the harder it is to explain what's wrong. It certainly felt like the doctors and I were running in circles. Bouncing me off each other as each gave up trying to categorize me.

Children Waiting for the day they feel good, happy birthday happy birthday, Made to feel the way that every child should, sit and listen, sit and listen: My pain started when I was infected with swine flu a few days before my birthday. Instead of cerebrating my birthday as I normally would I was instead mourning another year of unresolved pain.

Went to school and I was very nervous, no one knew me, no one knew me, Hello teacher tell me what's my lesson? Look right through me, look right through me: Out of every time period in your life that chronic pain could start the very worst is probably right before high school, as it was in my case. Pain and exhaustion made me miss a lot of classes and when I was at school I was usually sleeping in the hallway or the classroom. I sorta stayed friends with the people I had been friends with in middle school but we hung out a lot less. The larger problems were the people I didn't know who just knew me as the weird kid who always missed class and slept in the hallway. Then when I was hospitalized I even drifted away from my old friends. My social life has only been rebuilt recently when I finally made it to Guelph. The teachers didn't understand what was going on as so just saw me as the kid who never paid attention in class and claimed he was sick but looked healthy. They refused to differentiate me from any other healthy student, looking right through me. 

Therapeutic Music

                                                           Therapeutic Music

       As is common among those with disabilities, I find certain music quite therapeutic. There are a few select songs that particularly evoke strong emotions, for varying reasons. The thing that connects them all is that I find a way to relate them to myself and my experiences. When I associate a specific song with a certain memory listening to the song almost makes me relive it. This can have both positive and negative outcomes, but even when it comes to negativity its cathartic to listen in the same way that crying is. On days when I’m already in a lot of pain, I listen to a song, and relive the memory. It can even make me cry on occasion, especially when I am exhausted from a bad sleep. With all this in mind, I’m going to share the song that currently sits at the top of this list of several songs, The Humbling River. For me it’s not even so much about the quality of the music as it is about the ways I relate to them. I’ll write down the lyrics and explain how they’re connected. Here’s the Youtube video link for the song: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=O0YxeTjFn70

               

                                                      The Humbling River

Nature nurture heaven and home, Sum of all and by them driven: My motivations are primarily centered on both my family my friends, their support, and simply who I am.

To conquer every mountain shown, But I’ve never crossed the river: I’ve persisted through challenges large and small yet there’s still so much I’m still unable to do.

Brave the forests, braved the stone, Braved the icy winds and fire: This represents the physical side to my pain, especially the fiery burn I often get in my shoulder.

Braved and beat them on my own, Yet I’m helpless by the river: This depends on your perspective. What I mean by that is that I have massive support from friends and family but at the end of the day I’m the one who has to face the pain, no one can share that burden and so there’s again so much I can’t do.

Angel, angel what have I done? I’ve faced the quakes, the wind, the fire. I've conquered country, crown, and throne, Why can't I cross this river: “What have I done” references my suicide attempts and is also a good description of my current thoughts on those attempts in hindsight. What have I done?

Pay no mind to the battles you've won, It'll take a lot more than rage and muscle: It doesn’t matter what I’ve accomplished in the past, securing the future requires new tactics. Before I received my diagnosis I was considered crazy. Before deciding to end of my life I tried to escape my situation in two ways: muscle and rage. First I tried muscle, meaning I thought maybe my pain would go away if I simply got strong enough. I would quite literally run around the block over and over again in a desperate attempt to strengthen my legs. I did this for about a week and it only made my pain worse, so I gave up on that and turned to the only thing I had left: Rage. When I was at my worst point I had a breakdown of fury mostly aimed towards my doctors. It involved screaming and pounding on the ground. My dog came up to me to see what was wrong so my parents quickly moved her away. Simply witnessing this action blew all the fight out of me. I would never in a million years hurt me dog even in that state but the fact others were worried I might even for a second was depressing, and so rage turned to sadness. Obviously these incidents weren’t particularly helpful either, which is when I turned to overdosing.

Open your heart and hands my son, or you’ll never make it over the river: This represents the need for myself to open up my experiences to others, partially so they can help me deal with any future unpleasant experiences. I must also be willing to accept help to make it through this.

It'll take a lot more than words and guns, A whole lot more than riches and muscle: I tried using words to describe my pains with my doctors so we could figure out how to manage them. That also didn’t pan out how I had hoped. As for the gun, as I mentioned in a previous chapter, that was what I decided my next method to die would be. Thankfully I never went through with that plan.
We also tried throwing money at the problem. While there are services crucial for functioning I have to pay for, in general money will only get you so far. I need weekly therapeutic massages to keep my leg pain under control, and insurance only partly covers this. We paid $1000 for a pharmacogenetics test which ended up being totally worthless. The test couldn't explain my medication problems. There's a chance that pharmacokinetics might give us some answers (why I need to take so many pills for such a small effect) but that's  $10 000. We're going to wait to see what the EDS specialists at the new clinic recommend. We tried paying naturopaths, osteopaths, and physiotherapists. Only the physiotherapy made any difference, but in strength, not pain. I need medical marijuana to fall asleep and this is incredibly expensive since I need enough for every night, not to mention the vaporizer. Money has mostly allowed me to maintain the status quo but it can't make my pain any better. 

The hands of the many must join as one, And together we'll cross the river: I won’t survive if I go it alone. I need the help of friends and family and shouldn’t be afraid to admit that.

Nature, nurture heaven and home, And together we'll cross the river: As long as I maintain these motivations and work together with others, much more can be achieved.

           With so many emotions brought out by re-experiencing such strong memories it can sometimes be overwhelming, but I’m determined not to run away from my own memories. It’s a step away from Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder, where sounds or sights associated with traumatic memories can trigger flashbacks; the main difference being that my memories aren’t immersive in the same way as an actual flashback. It’s more about reflecting on my choices and horrible experiences rather than actually fully reliving them.