The human mould

Has it ever been so difficult being inside your own head that you spend every second trying to get out of it?

I latched on to learning Japanese as an outward focus and it enabled me to avoid thinking and in doing so get out of my own head.

As I recovered following the psychotic episode I began to find my way back inside and those fifteen or so years of development I had missed out on suddenly happened in a flash.

Recently I noticed that the things that at one point were fresh and exciting had now been filed away to the back of my mind and I was beginning to lose touch with that way of looking at our world.

Fitting into the human mould is what happens to everyone. You lose sight of what is important because you are so focused on getting on with the world that your brain can cope with that the eyes you used as a child growing into an adult get shorter and shorter sighted until you can no longer see beyond the end of your own nose.

Medication

I like to say that Japanese saved me. I stumble upon it during my second attempt at University when I noticed it was offered as a complimentary study course and thought it might be cool. After my psychotic episode (that put an end to my studies at degree level) I continued to study Japanese independently at home.

The prospect of a day studying Japanese almost organically became my reason for getting out of bed in the morning and staying away from my bedroom for the rest of the day. Anyone who has been prescribed major tranquilisers will empathise that this is no mean feat!

My studies gave me direction but there was something about learning Japanese that enabled me to remove myself from the difficult mental processes I was experiencing. I could almost tangibly feel my mind whirring around outside of my body. I guess I had essentially managed to put my fingers into my ears and sing “lalalalalalala” at the top of my voice.

The interesting thing was that through this technique I was gradually able to explore my boundaries more and more. It was as though the Japanese study was some kind of temporary scaffold that enabled the reconstruction - by which I mean the rehabilitation – of me on a personal level.

Now the Japanese has largely fallen by the wayside and my passion for thinking has been re-realised which feels great. I know that there is still a long way to go of course, but the progress is promising.

As time passed I began to wonder if my experience with the Japanese study could be compared to my experience with antipsychotic medication. Does the medication provide a supporting scaffold that serves the rebuilding effort?