Tag: medication

Hands on, rage.

Janbi Street half hours drive from here, there they were, two bikers – one with bloodied nose, then bloodied mouth, as the other rammed his fist in him, over and over. A crowd gathered, they try separate the two. The wounded guy just sits there taking it, as the other rears to go again, his fist readying….

Jeff and I are silenced, words choke. What’s to say. We just saw rage, violence. What had caused it? An accident prior?

My son’s palm in mine, 31st December prayer meet

Road rage, all kinds of rage, is getting more in the news, it competes with rape and glitzy page 3 spreads. I’m shivering as we reach home. Those guys were in their 20s,30s? What makes things go so out of control we can ram our fists into each other over and over till flesh breaks and blood pours down? Why is it easier to be explosive than be anything else? It gets easier to rave than try peace. Tempers are not leash-able, not much.

What happened to us all, that we cannot control emotions; we believe in mortal wounding, anything but a gentler option.

And ofcourse we cannot/ will not pray; it’s a foolish silly old- fashioned, ignorant thing to do, right.

Here’s the thing: something does happen when we hold our hands and join forces with that Unseen power from where Grace flows. I’m talking 100% nonsense, right? Try me.

I’m veering off a bit here, but these past few months at home we’ve had to deal with violence as a family, following post- seizure drug-induced aggression from our youngest who for 18 years has been the gentlest person we’ve ever met. I won’t do details here, but it’s been bad. There’s been days in November we just hugged together and wept. He’s unfortunately been on 3 drugs – previous Neuro Doc should not have given him. New doc now retracts those and we introduce new med. We have withdrawal which is a Syndrome in itself. Rage? You think I don’t know it first hand- my own frustration at a system that is this careless with a serious medical condition.

Psychiatry would call the Act of Prayer ‘Self Counsel’. If I were left to self-counsel I’d have turned into a monster, trust me. What happens when we pray, is beyond me, but this happened here, among a whole stack of other changes – both interpersonal/ personal. Anyone want details, please say. Happy to help. idialects@gmail.com

1. A peace that human understanding alone cannot understand, that’s happening.

2. Clear instructions to not use harsh tones in our own voices, even a loud yell of joy, these could trigger a reaction, among other triggers.

3. Harvesting joy in our own selves, this somehow broke through to our troubled son, don’t ask me how. Joy spreads. He knows the air has changed for the better. I said ‘harvesting’ … because it takes work to do that sometimes, hard work. Forget self, count blessings… 🙄 yet, it works. Joy is a Force to reckon with.

4. Remembering all the 18 years of this young person’s gentle nature, and seeing him through that filter, knowing this is drug reaction. If not, God help us, but there’s that deep well of Quiet, I don’t know how else to describe it.

5. Gratitude, songs of love, thanking God for everything, even for this trying time, it takes the sting off the moment. Horror loses its claw hold on me, it has no control over any area in my life, if, in everything I can say,”I thank you Lord.”

One morning I prayed in the stars; the rest of the family were still in bed. It was softening grey misty, like my heart softening, waiting in silence. And I’d be a liar if I didn’t tell you He sent Comfort and Joy and Strength. (Wouldn’t be blogging without it, 😊).

“I love it when You speak to me

@innerdialects.

My Journal.

‘You don’t swear at all?’

Our new friend, a digital artist looked at me like I fell off Mars then cracked up in long drawn out sobs of laughter.

What’s the worst word you’ve ever..?” He asked after a respectful pause. “Oh dont bother …”

Karu K. 10 years older than me, has seen war and love, and lost. If he’s bitter about life it doesn’t show as well as his cigarette smoke. He cannot tolerate too much peace, still does some serious heavy metal music, maybe has chain saws for pets, who knows. I love K. like a brother already and tell him that but is it helping?

“…$%$#%^… give me a break,” he cracked up again but his eyes went flat.

How can you guys be artists and never need to unleash, yknow…?”

What’s an ‘artist’ supposed to unleash: tongues made of Cato’9tails?

Another jewel from outside my yard @Y’omargey’s. I don’t know what this book is, but it suited my post today. Though I’m certain the book in photograph is about talking with no slouch in throat, no stutter, hesitation, drawl,slang,shortcuts, and other verbal hiccups.

I do not do Bs, Fs, Gs…Qs …not because Gran and Ma and aunt Rosa didn’t but because my tongue is attached to a meter that goes wahannnng if I go there.

So no Brother K., I don’t know how to swear, nor can I fake it. Is this a relevant post, is it necessary to even ask? Why is creativity so intertwined with the incredible Art of Swear? Why do people swear? Is it about being out of the box, is life that unbearable boring, are we run out of words as a human race, does it make us socially acceptable in some some circles, does life get easier if we swear…?

Over the past few weeks as they’ve been changing medication for our son, we’ve watched him go from being the gentlest human we’ve met, to a leashed/unleashed tiger with a certain tongue lashing quality that’s unbelievable. So I looked up one of the drugs our new doc said was probably causing some of the havoc. Looked it up and it says among side effects: “...harshness, negating of emotion ” , perhaps theres the need to vent; need for a certain friendly aggression…

Does that explain a few things? Perhaps the details of K’s existence has had its side effects? Not just K, but the Shop owner 12th cross, and neighbour when his papers aren’t on time, and Mr. Dev at the Photcopiers’ and some in the bus, in cabs, in gas stations, in conference halls, oh in restaurants and magazine columns, in movies and music> side effects that list under Friendly Fire. Unsure how to end this post. If I’ve offended anyone I’m sorry, nor do I wish to hear offensive ling. And yes I’m seriously sad K will not accept brotherhood: is that old fashioned to even ask? I guess so. But I’m not changing bro. I like me this way.

When K came home the next day he did not use any of the words he’d used at the meet. Said he didn’t feel the need to, and that it freed him in a way he wasn’t willing to discuss just yet.

..

(This Post inspired by a friend who is happier with name changed).