Schizophrenia.
The ball dream last night wanted to humiliate me. Before
blatant mimicry from a bartender I spilled a drink in his face, then, when I chased to beat him to death, he humbled himself and pressed a point X of my calf, one of those points that allow a dwarf to jot down any giant, collapsed to the ground and in fact are losing control of the leg. But I resisted, tenacious and desist before deciding that I would have stayed aggressive until I had breath in his body, and I woke up.
In dreams I never felt excruciating pain. That last night was not pain, but the unbearable tension that some of the pressure points cause.
The nightmare would be a dream sensorium which corresponds perfectly to the real one - given the truculence of some of my dreams, sleep would be tantamount to torture.
In Hallucinating Foucault presents a model of schizophrenia in which symptoms and descriptions for external, for the first time I could recognize.
argues that the acute paranoid reactions (I could not find the Italian translation), which occur between 18-25 years, are some symptoms of schizophrenia. "Symptom" in this case means: when you're in your hands and discover a 40-year old schizophrenic who had indicated an age that you reconfirm it is schizophrenic. In short, the 40-year old is stigmatized. Well, I hope not be suspected schizophrenia.
The fascination of madness is an old topic, but I prefer myself fascinated by the compilation methods that define it. The compilation does not order, the compilation creates . One hundred years ago, homosexuality was analyzed with the cold haughtiness with which today's medical articles I explain what a crisis psychomotor. There is a paradox very
very charming in this regard: the description given by the expert in most cases can not be, by definition, be confirmed or refuted by the patient because the patient is insane and therefore not reliable. A Treatise on nervous diseases (1984) explains that belong psychomotor crises so-called "leakage," or a "sudden and irresistible impulse to walk aimlessly, avoiding obstacles, rejecting those who seek to stop the sick."
The logic underlying the analysis of scientific facts, as we like to call it, is the basis of anxiety that are causing so many movies about mental hospitals: the sane that is locked up but can no longer prove to be, because everything says and does does nothing but confirm his madness. I had a crisis
psychomotor and I found myself running, and then the logic cited above would be confirmed by me (in the chapter on "Epilepsy," which I have never been diagnosed - but epilepsy is bad that for eons in itself brings a bit 'all the waste non-systemic elsewhere), but it is on the "sudden and irresistible impulse" to stop me, because behind this description, the reality of my experience, I would use different words (not a "pulse", but an act in like any other: you have a reason and act accordingly - not "sudden" more than any choice after deciding to put into practice).
All these details would become a burden if I had been interned, because then I would not have had standing to contradict that description (what he wants to refute, a person suffering from mental illness?), And many details were similar to these, so many words - with the joy of Foucault - to increasingly trapped in a prototype of insanity.
Once I joked with someone about whether the pessimism that is acquired by browsing an atlas doctor, because you have the impression of having symptoms for all the diseases listed. I guess the same applies to the treaties of nervous diseases, with the added detail that, in the second case, the symptom itself confirms that the symptom is disease. A yellowish color is not a gastrointestinal problem, run with no apparent goal is madness if no one pursues you. The
cite acute paranoid reaction ( bouffée Délirante ) in Hallucinating Foucault but alone was not enough: the book has wooed me with a description of a certain schizophrenia he sees, among other features, the innate inability to "love" like everyone else, no less or more, but so different - and prefer to identify with models that give meaning to our person, compared to a medical report that consists of words that pretend to be unique. The author weaves fascinating mysteries around this idealized schizophrenia - such as through the crowds with a different world. The aristocratic crowds that it is read, belonging to a different class - the mad shaman, the mad prophet, the prophet mad poet, the mad artist, the idol crazy of the masses - the paradox that the idols of the time visual symptoms share of fools, that is: they were to meet on the street think I'm crazy. But, removed from everyday life and its laws, and put into a frame of their own, acquire a role saint.
Maybe that's why I see myself as a good priest survival instinct.
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