All I Want Is…
05/05/2007
Richard O. Harris

After seeing three specialists and my primary care physician this week, I found myself thinking the phrase “all I want is…” repeatedly. The more they all agreed I should consider disability the more this phrase echoed in my mind. They have now diagnosed me with cognitive impairment and manic depression with psychotic episodes.

Of course, they have not met my family or they would understand I am perfectly normal (LOL). All kidding aside, it has become more difficult for me to maintain a consistent level of functioning. These writings seem to require more and more effort each time.

But, I digress from my topic of “all I want is…” and its repetition. How does one determine all he/she wants? I certainly do not know as I have yet to obtain all I want.

I do know it is comforting to realize I have “all I need…” at least, for now. I am coming to believe, however, it is the “all I want…” that drives most of us. I know I have heard it said numerous times by myself and others who are still not satisfied when they obtain the object(s) of their wants.

Nonetheless, let me not judge others since I now find myself thinking, “all I want is what I once had” mentally and physically. The slow degeneration of my mental acumen is most troublesome to me. It is a gradual reduction in my mental abilities that I not only feel but also recognize.

As difficult as other parts of my life have been at times, they do not compare to the anguish I feel when I realize something I used to understand very well is something I no longer know how to communicate. It is in my mind, I can see it there, but I cannot find the path to bring it out verbally or through written communication. I get so frustrated with my inability to make these linkages I just freeze up altogether.

At any rate, I guess “all I want…” changes with each person and his/her circumstance. I know it has changed with mine through the years. So to put it in simple terms, “all I want…” is ALL I want.

Notes From The Field

Notes From The Field
April 28, 2007
Richard O. Harris

It has been some time since I wrote anything to those who might read this. Though usually not so dormant, I have been struggling with the side effects of some new medications. Those, along with difficulties with my internet service provider have kept me from making any grandiose additions to my growing library.

Still, enough excuses for those needing them, including myself. I am certain some subject will present itself for my rumination. I am a little slower these days but still have quite a bit to say, as you will see.

To catch you all up to date, I still work at the present time but that may change soon as I find my self less able to focus and am beginning to lose some motor skills. You cannot imagine the effort it is taking to type this simple dialog. Yet, I continue to persevere in the hopes that something will change for me soon.

In the meantime, I am left to contemplate filing for disability, as my cognitive functions appear to be diminishing. No, I am not losing my mind – just access to certain portions of it. Still, I can walk (kind of) and talk and generally care for my self-overall.

However, recently I am finding it difficult to work a full eight-hour day with the mental acuity necessary to perform my job. Whether this is a result of my mental, neurological, and immune diseases or of the 9 different medications I take to treat them is something I have not been able to determine. Perhaps, it is a combination of both but whatever the cause, I find myself less and less able to maintain a certain level of thinking.

I feel very saddened by all of this as I still think of my self as being 18 years old and bulletproof. I cannot begin to express the sense of being so totally alone at this time. All I have worked for and hoped for seems to be lost and unattainable now.

Yet, I keep telling my self this is just “another phase” in my life. That phrase in itself tells a story deep and unyielding about the things I have been taught. Still, I am committed (not to an institution yet) to doing every thing I can to find the best outcome.

Infant Images

Infant Images
Part 3 of Memories
Richard O. Harris

They tell me I was born on a hot, summer day (well night actually but still hot). This occurred somewhere in the rural south. Though I could provide dates and times from official documents, I personally do not recall them.

Still, the earliest memory I feel I can honestly claim as my own is not provable though quite likely. I can even now recall the motion as I look at a blue sky stained with occasional clouds. I want to believe I was riding in a car in my mother’s arms but do not know that as part of the memory.

In truth, it could just as easily have been any mode of travel with anyone or no one at all holding me. What captures my attention though is that my first memory is a feeling not a fact. Although accompanied by broken visual images, it is the feeling of motion that remains the strongest part of the memory.

The feelings of my mother’s arms and the blue sky may be supplied by my present understanding of how best to describe that motion. The motion itself, of course, may have had some other source but the memory of motion is very real. Nevertheless, such illustration is simply meant to convey the sense of warmth and well being associated with that memory.

It is simply a memory of yet more feelings and, so far, not one single provable fact. Did my mother ever hold me in her arms on a clear day while riding in a car? Most likely she did but I could never prove that to anyone. At least, not using my memory alone.

With that said, I also find it interesting to note I never seem to recall the feelings of discomfort (i.e. wet diapers) I have seen other infants experience. Yet, I know I would not want to be cold, wet, or hungry for very long at a time even now. Is it part of the human psyche to “forget” or “delete” such memories?

Were these experiences so “traumatic” that I had to block them from my mind like a shell-shocked war veteran? Or were they so repetitious I ‘learned’ by that repetition that they were only temporary as I began to manipulate others into resolving them? Were these my first efforts at understanding time and how to get someone to do what I wanted?

That's all for now

Forgotten Remembrances

Forgotten Remembrances
Part 2 of Memories
Richard O. Harris

In the beginning was the wordless time of infancy we all must endure if we are to survive. For many, this time of utter helplessness and dependency is totally erased from our minds over time. I have not met anyone who even claims to remember the first two years of life. As a side note, I have met others who remember a ‘previous life’ but even they cannot recall those first important years of infancy. Still, I digress.

I claim these are important years simply because the constant, daily terror of being in another’s control is mind altering for each of us (just ask any psychiatrist). In fact, I believe most of our early “learning” (also read conditioning) is simply an effort to appease those others who have the control. This act of appeasing is often accompanied by and soon replaced with attempts to gain control (testing the boundaries, if you will).

It seems each of us finds ways to get what we need (if not what we want) often enough to allow us to reach the next level in our ‘evolution’. Otherwise, speech itself may never have occurred. Although I suspect communicating is one of those abilities we have always possessed in spite of what historians or other scientists may say.

So, returning in time to the beginning, I can honestly say I believe the ‘word’ was there in some fashion. Or, if you please, as another author wrote somewhere “In the beginning was the Word…”. With our survival completely dependent on expressing our needs so that others understand, I will borrow from that same author again the other concept “…and the Word was GOD”.

None of this, of course, is memory. That is, unless you count my recalled observations of preceeding infants memory enough to be counted as a personal remembrance. I can say my adult inclination to be ‘gentle and kind’ to infants is certainly a product of my empathy with that powerless period of life.

Yet, there are some vague recollections of a simpler, happier time. These recollections are fragmented and fleeting at best. They begin during those years I still consider part of my infancy.

next installment soon

Memories

Memories
April 7, 2007
Richard O. Harris

As each tale has a beginning, so does this one. The only trouble is the start of this saga depends upon this author’s recall. Quite honestly, this is disturbing, as so much of my memory seems to have been misplaced.

I suppose those who are generous would simply say it has evolved. That ‘evolution’ though is quite difficult to define by any one universal standard. Therefore, suffice it to say, I finally remember there is a lot I have forgotten.

And that is what makes this tale worth telling. The recall of times past will at best be cloudy if I am to be honest. So, I tell you now that certain details are not to be trusted but which details those may be you must decide.

Oh yes, you say, if it is verifiable through recorded history then it must be true. Still be careful the trust you place in such recordings. Unless the facts are unaffected by emotion, such as a certain temperature on a given day, they are subject to both the recorder’s and the reviewer’s interpretations.

I suppose one could argue that even such mundane things as the temperature on a given day are also subject to such interpretations. Still, if we continue in this vain, the story might never begin and then where would we be? Fortunately for us, we can return to where we started and be re-minded (interesting word, don’t you think?) we were beginning to start.

Now, let us begin our journey into the past. Please make your self comfortable and try to stay awake long enough to read a sentence or two. If that is not possible, at least you have found a non-chemical sleep aid, so enjoy!!!

next installment coming soon.