Studied Serotonin in college ...conned my way into a Graduate-level course on psychopharmocolgy after pre-conning my way into a Freud seminar. I came away with this: most unusual (to us), unique (to us), inexplicable leaps (glorious and furious) in the human pool can all pretty much be traced back to too much of this or not enough of that, receptors full or empty. Every monkey-one of us needs therapy and some occasional potion support, though we wont admit it. I increasingly understand the simple point about balancing, about homeostasis both emotional and physical (no one here is so foolish to try and separate them, right?) , and I know striking it is no simple thing; I can barely control my own blood sugar (and it's attendant mood swings), and it's easy as far as the pharm goes...hell, I can measure it, get a number any time I want...so I think there are less quantifiable, more uncontrollable life challenges which dwarf any of mine; I feel sheepish even mentioning them in the same sentence...not timid, just aware.
Recently, some conversations with others (some present) have been about the furia; the feeling, the emotional voltage, transforming, stepping down, too little, too much...I guess I've never had a feeling-too-little problem. I burn all the time (300% more blood sugar than a normal human may play a role), my game is keeping the lava underground and hoping the crust is thick enough for safe-ish walking; making fertile soil if time gets a chance to work it's entropic magic. It comes through when I pour thoughts to media. Some of what I write is imqo light but puissant, ebullient, playful...that's when I'm soothed...some is vitriolic, vicious...it seethes, almost resentful about being restrained or evoked, mindful chaos. I dont make value judgments on any of that, a lot of what gets said is not...well, good, or even readable. Between 'em though, when they agree not to compete for attention, I get this great friction and my best pours up channels and down courses, splashes out to my tongue or my hands.
I haven't traditionally liked all that friction; in me it's been indiscriminate and ungovernable...outlets truncated, ignored, undervalued...a little self-hating maybe? Voices planted in my head when I was too young to put up a fight that are unnatural additions to my clockwork. Pulling myself apart was once my only passion, I went after my bad wiring with both hands (early...too much so maybe?), then I got material and connected and wanted nothing more than to build...now, full circle, so much demolition left undone, and as it turns out I feel more and better when I've pulled down some elaborate, rickety construct (poor craftsmen in my past fo'sure) and something simpler, more...I hate to say elegant...clean maybe? is waiting underneath. As soon as I start pouring myself through the old/new...that balanced charge I'm looking for gets easier to transmit.
It turns out (I may be the only bonehead that is just getting this) that I need things I eschewed, want things I am just beginning to know, and my feeling in general is not what I thought it was.
I'd standby to standby here...
0 comments:
Post a Comment