Create

In certain spiritual thinking, the opposite of creation is not destruction, it's depression. Which may as well be destruction, as it plays out in someone's life.

Last March, in desperation, I went to a DBT centre for help, and was put under the category of severely depressed, along with the label PTSD. I had also just read the book Scatered Minds by Gabor Mate. I read it to try and understand the boy I was babysitting at the time, but instead I can liken the experience of having a mirror thrown at one's face. In the spring, when I was back in Toronto I was diagnoses with ADHD. It had gone overlooked all the years as girls don't exhibit the same symptoms of boys. I was a dreamer, completely lost in my head, daydreaming and not running around acting mildly insane like the boys my age with ADHD. I was smart, caught along quickly, was able to mimic and take on very quickly. That's not ADHD, right?

This world was a hard one to understand, and from the perspective of a scared little girl, it was a world that was completely full of false beauty and half truths, of changing characters and landscapes, of the lessons learned over and over again. It was a world of confusion and the inability to understand. I lived through books and TV.

It was probably my brothers who then came in and made me the personable character you know today. With my brothers, I was introduced into a spectacular world of shinny, sparkly, colourful people, which was so far away from the semi-cruel world of a bullied sensitive child, and then the almost dead teenage wasteland of the suburbs of Toronto. Those people were creative, they were smart, they were beautiful, they were strange and weird and wore multiple patterns at once, but they were amazing human being in a creative collective of love. What gave them colour was creativity, the ability to be themselves and to bring into this world the joy they get via their particular craft.

One brother was like a chef, so I learned the value of food, community and love through him. There is a need to express how much I needed to observe from people, my nature tends to be blunt and a bit rude. I've worked on it all my life, I'm still learning. I mean, we ALL are learning constantly. My favourite Natalie Dee cartoon is two sheep, one knitting. The non-knitting sheep says to the knitting sheep: "You know, I've always wanted to be able to knit." The knitting sheep replies: "You know that the only things you're born knowing how to do is shit and complain?"

I do kinda feel that I may be really different from most people. But that may be my particular brand of PTSD, I always have to be better then someone else. I get phantom pain. But this gift of being different has let me see the world, to a degree, from an outsiders perspective. That's why I am so analytical about our society and how it impacts our environment, mainly because I am so unattached from this society as I take it to be largely mad and suicidal, and prefer nature (mother nature's billions of years of R&D) greatly. However, I need my monkey hive, don't get me wrong. I love humanity, our hideogorgeous.

I always found my solstice as a child in yards and trees, along brook and in a lake, perhaps along a mango grove... I loved bugs and worms and anything that crawled, had legs and/or a tail. I would stay still outside for hours, staring at an ant hill, or stare at the clouds for days upon days. Certainly this child is just sensitive and too smart, too mature, too much of an old soul for her peers. I didn't understand being mean, and I was therefore an easy target for bullies. It seemed every time I warmed up to a school or neighbourhood it changed. I was easy pray.

Sometimes I think I was a spoiled brat despite the multiple events that caused this PTSD, maybe I still feel that way. Except not. To be spoiled means to be rotten. I'm not. I'm lucky.

I am too fortunate to be sitting here writing about mental health issues, trying to view them as lessons to be learned and to feel grateful for the hard times. Having the luxury to sit back and reflect, to have the means to heal, that is a blessing from God. It's kinda because of this I sit here trying to be recovered, trying to fight my daemons. I need to get better to be able to prosper and do good work for humanity and this planet.

Weather your an atheist or a orthodox, the point of life is to enrich your life around you. That's all you can do, but when we all do it it is done.

Top Conservative Cat ‏@TeaPartyCat

Everyone's a libertarian until their state is under 10 feet of water.

Having the ability to help is a gift. Healing is a gift, and I took some serious time off in BC to do it. In the west, you're better able to shape yourself here, or at least I am being out of Toronto. I can be more of what I want to be, less of what I am. Now taking supplements and pharma for the ADHD, I already feel better, more creative. Sad right? I used to think that way. Now I feel differently, as I just want to do effective things to be more productive in life. I think my depression was due to the inability to communicate, the poor healthy that caused me sickness and sorrows. It's a cycle, because then you feel less creative, which makes you more depressed, which makes you less creative. It's like your batteries are being zapped by something.

I've been doing hoemopathy, yoga, surgery, stretching, eastern medicinal eating, etc. now for almost 4 years, and here I am. I feel like I am finally in a stretch of life I want to be in, and I worked hard for it, and I have produced some DAMN good work in regards to health and personal development and how it can be applied to environmentalism and also marketing. If we can use marketing to promote health and personal development, it will directly benefit the environment by being able to influence a percentage of the population about a better choice of life not solely judged on outward appearance or possessions, which will lead to empathetic growth and therefore with the ability to conceptualize one's impact on other people and the planet on a global scale through everyday purchases.

Anyway, I'm glad I went "crazy", because what it did was cause me to rebuild the foundations of my mind of a solid bed of knowledge and love. It feel good, because I know I was never that crazy, I was just lost in my head. I feel that if you are reading this and you know me, you know exactly what I am talking about. My first love once said to me: "When I look into your eyes, I can see you are thinking about 12 different things- me? Nothing. You're gorgeous."

See like most girls with ADHD, we didn't realize until much later, because we had such fantastic coping skills and were as cute as a button. I was smart as a whip as a kid, and well learned through too much reading. I earned my glasses. After a horrible ugly duckling faze,  I seemed to be pretty enough to get away with murder. There in lies another tale of life lessons learned. being attractive and smart has it's bonus points in life. I am glad I am using them up while I can.

The purpose of my life is to believe in helping others and spreading a little joy in this world. I know the spark can catch fire, I've seen it, and we just have to keep on believing in magic.