The drugs affecting me earlier - probably a mixture of stimulant and ASM [antischizophrenic medication] - have worn off (which for one thing implies the pleasing fact that they did not derive from the bread which I can continue to eat with impunity: probably they derived from the remains of the Sara Lee gateau, as I suspected at one stage this afternoon as well as a day or two back of the gateau then) and my mind is almost as it was when I was in my late teens, certainly as regards activity level (or ‘activation level’) although I suppose I must admit I have more experiential memories so that the subject-matter thrown around in the activity is more varied, and likely more realistically founded.
Just as at that time as a teenager then, I ask myself - before doing anything much at all, including any writing - what point there is in it? The answer today is differently based from then, as regards writing, because I have a readership. Anyone with a blog can hope for readership, but in my particular case almost certainly a lot of what I put up is read by or on behalf of ‘the Authorities’. I put this forward as the explanation for my relative garrulousness in explaining matters such as I am here in these prefatory paragraphs, which would be different - perhaps non-existent - if I did not have in mind these readers for ‘the Authorities’.
A lot of what occurs to my mind to write, in fact, takes shape as though directed at the readers for ‘the Authorities’, and usually it is complaining about what I suffer, or explaining what it is the Authorities are doing that they shouldn’t be. I conclude that most likely such explanations and complaints aren’t understood although at times I have wondered if they are read at all.
Taking on the theory that from the time I was at Cambridge the Experimenters were intent on tracking through life a person thought liable to develop schizophrenia, and that in 1986 Armond (as one of the Experimenters, or employed by them) genuinely concluded I had developed schizophrenia - not entirely unexpected, as I say - and what has been happening since then is treatment of that supposed schizophrenia, using extraordinary methods including admixed heroin (not unheard of in cases of terminal disease in combination with something like chorpromazine, to give a kind of early death in life before actual death, but made happy - supposedly - by the heroin) and later admixed antidepressants and admixed stimulants (this last virtually unbelievable as countering - almost any scientist would have said so - the dopamine-blocking action of the antipsychotic leaving only side-effects of both drug types with zero benefit), with observation - that is, tracking - continuing.
Because, as I say, much of what I write to ‘the Authorities’ - formerly in letters to what was said to be Caroline’s address in Bristol but where a Water Rate bill I found was addressed to a Mr S Phillips if I remember right (because I was reminded of the actress Sian Phillips) and lately via my website - is not understood at all, I wonder what it’s all about. The conclusion must be - this supported by general evidence of the low intellectual quality of psychiatrists, not least of this being Armond’s failure to correct the mis-spelling of his own address in the Medical Directory I consulted (whether corrected since I do not know) - that the Experiment was a lackadaisical affair from the start and did not ever envisage gathering detailed information of the sort which might interest myself were I engaged in managing such a scheme. The failure of the Experimenters (Armond and others at the outset, I imagine) to take in much detail, let alone understand it, led to the error - quite common in psychiatric diagnosis in Britain, I should think - of giving me disatrously hurtful drugs and ignoring my complaints. I am hopeful that in the present phase more sensible people take cognisance and have ultimate control over the psychiatrists’ leashes (for one thing police officers must be quite aware of the sort of things perpetrated, and if my attempts to ‘publish’ are not stymied politicians too will become aware).
Hence my conclusion now (and, my mind clear of drugs, almost certainly this is the correct conclusion) is that my diagnosis of schizophrenia in 1986 on the evidence of my suicide attempt was a genuine diagnosis, so mistaken because Armond - and British psychiatrists generally - are fools. The treatment I have received in the twenty-odd years since has been based on standard British treatment for schizophrenia (but with the embellishments mentioned: admixed heroin, etc) and has resulted in my having a non-life thought to show typical symptomatology of schizophrenia (that is, British psychiatrists know so little they take the disastrous effects of the drug treatment as symptoms of the illness).
Goodness knows what will happen now but I presume I shall be freed.
¬¬¬
That’s how the ‘prefatory paragraphs’ have turned out, and backtracking, what they were supposed to preface was something to the effect that before I was writing to communicate to anyone - in my notes and diaries around 1972 - some of what I wrote (thinking particularly of notes on the computers I designed) was so complicated that after trying to explain them to my best friend I gave up ever hoping to explain such matters.
As regards what point there is in doing anything, I tend to agree with Sartre (at the end of the book Nausea) that to produce art objects is the way to go, because they are slightly less existent and being less existent in real-time have the hope of enduring forever (or a longish time, anyway: certainly longer than the statue of Ozymandias). With art objects I include scientific theories and mathematical (including computer) models.
No comments:
Post a Comment