The Pain of Empathy: Coping with Mental Illness as a Clinician

During my time at Willowbrook Residential Center, I had the unique experience of coming face-to-face with people suffering from severe mental disorders. It was a surreal experience, to be sure, as I tried to reconcile living with mental illness as a more or less permanent part of one’s identity. I attended my placement, all the while feeling distinctly disconnected from the clients I was supposedly there to assist.

The most difficult issue to face in this field is, in my opinion, working with those clients who may never get better. There is definite stress and sadness associated with working with those for whom their mental illness is, quite simply, a way of life, and will be until they die. How do you cope with such a bleak prognosis—both as a client and as a clinician? I am left wondering if this was the source of that disconnect—was I afraid of the disappointment, of the futility of trying to aid in a hopeless cause? It felt like befriending someone who you know has terminal cancer. How do you get around the undeniable fact that they will never get better?

This is a question I grappled with during my time at Willowbrook, particularly in the times I was called to work with a particular patient, who we will here refer to as Steven. Steven has severe symptoms of obsessive-compulsive disorder, as well as schizophrenia, to the point where he uncontrollably collects trash and junk in his room, and is virtually incapable of parting with it without strict guidance. When I first became acquainted with Steven’s case, I was told much about how intelligent he was. How he, despite his illness, frequently went to community college classes and thrived there as an engaged and enthusiastic student. I was encouraged, believing that he would have a lot of insight into his disorder, and that it would be easy to communicate with him.

However, when I finally met Steven, I was met with the reality of the situation: that he was barely communicative, not at all aware of the facts of his illness, and it seemed impossible to get anything through to him. Steven’s coordinator informed me that he had been working with Steven for a long time, and had tried everything he could think of. He also confided that, though I had been brought into the case as a sort of last-ditch effort to prevent Steven from being evicted from Willowbrook due to his unsanitary habits, he (the coordinator) didn’t really believe there was any hope that there would be any actual improvement.

This was a bit of a harsh reality check—why was I even there, then? What was I hoping to accomplish with a client who had cycled around in the mental health system for literally as long as I’ve been alive? It felt like such a futile effort, and I began to wonder whether anything we were doing here—indeed, in the mental health system at all—was worth all the time and money that’s being poured into it, if there are so many clients, like Steven, who never experience relief from their illness?

I spoke to my supervisor, bringing to her some of these concerns. I was confident that, given her years in the field and close contact with the clients, she would have some insight. I was correct; not only had she grappled with the same sorts of questions, but she also had some interesting light to shed on the situation, and by the end of our conversation, I had come to some conclusions.

The cold hard truth is that some clients never do get better. This is a very basic fact that clinicians must learn to accept. While some more fortunate clients can be counseled through rough patches in their illness and eventually rejoin the community, for other clients, all we can do is maintain them at baseline. We—and they—must learn to accept the illness, much as a cancer patient must accept the cancer. We can try treating it, sure, but at a certain point it becomes unavoidable to realize that it may be futile.

It requires a certain amount of realism to accept that some people may be in this position for the rest of their lives. In discussing this with my supervisor, I found myself reflecting that I am much more of an idealist—I like to believe that, eventually, everyone gets better, if they put in the required effort. Hearing her say that one must be realistic rather than idealistic, therefore, made me a little nervous. Does becoming a so-called realist mean I have to become jaded?

But my supervisor had something to say to this too. Being a realist is not to say we are giving up on our clients; on the contrary, they require even more commitment—more effort and time—than their more fortunate peers, because the goal for them is to develop an environment that as closely approximates a happy, healthy home as possible. Willowbrook—and places like it—create a stable community, a more compassionate and therapeutic version of the real world, so that these people can live as close to a normal life as possible while still being cared for and treated for their illness.

As for becoming jaded, I learned something that was encouraging. Of course it’s true that, in my own experience with clinicians, I have seen plenty of those who seem to not care at all, who don’t connect with their clients as people, but only take notes and spout out textbook phrases and coping skills. These people have truly frightened me, and I find myself wondering if this is my future. Am I doomed to become a cold, impassive therapist, building a wall around myself to avoid the heartache of failed interventions? My supervisor doesn’t think so.

I’m learning that the most important thing is to avoid burnout at all costs. It is so easy to slip into complacency where you find yourself just going through the motions, not actually invested in their welfare or their future, just doing your job to get through the day. But it is possible to avoid this future, with constant effort and reflection on why you got involved in the field. It is so crucial to never let human beings become merely names and diagnoses. They are more than their symptoms, more than their illness. There is a reason we no longer refer to them as “schizophrenics”; they are people—real human beings—with a mental illness. To cease to see them as human beings means to not care whether they get better or not. And if you don’t care about your efforts actually being successful, why are you in this job to begin with?

The point is that we must do everything we can do ensure we are getting the best possible treatment for people. Always question yourself, always confer with others—get a reality check so you don’t become isolated in your own limited worldview, with a perspective of apathy and disengagement. Be making every attempt to help them get better, but at the same time find a way to accept that they may not be able to get better. Therefore, in addition to providing them the best care we can, we must also give them a healthy community, with healthy connections, because only with those things can people truly thrive.

To Be Yourself Or Not To Be Yourself

Don't Talk to Strangers.
Eat Your Fruits and Veggies.
Stop, Drop, and Roll.
Look Both Ways Before Crossing the Street.
If You Can't Say Something Nice, Don't Say Anything At All.
Remember the Boy Who Cried Wolf.
Treat Others as You Would Want to be Treated.

As children we are taught many things above and beyond addition and subtraction. There are certain lessons we were all instilled with, until they become part of our very worldview and means of approaching our lives.

One of the primary examples is very simple: Be Yourself.

We were inundated with the sense that we should not conform for the sake of winning others' approval. We should not be afraid of what others think. We should never try to change ourselves for someone else. So basically, we don't need to adhere to social norms if we believe they're wrong. Right?

There's just one problem I have with this easy, feelgood moral. There is a word for people who don't adhere to social norms: they are called psychopaths.

The technical term for this is Antisocial Personality Disorder: these are people who frequently infringe on the rights of others in very real ways. They are your classic serial killers or CEOs who rob their company of millions of dollars-- they are cruel and vicious and feel no remorse. Social norms mean little to them.

There are some theories as to how this may come about. In normative development (i.e. the way it's supposed to go), we experiment and test the boundaries of behavior. When we act badly, we are punished, either directly, by a parent or teacher, or indirectly, by being alienated from social groups. We develop a sense of what is "normal" in society, and through this, we are accepted by our peers. Individuals with Antisocial Personality Disorder may be less able to undergo this type of conditioning: something about their biochemistry is prohibiting them from anticipating the consequences of their behavior, or of seeing the effect their actions may be having on others. As a result of this, they never develop a sense of what is right or wrong in their environment: they never develop a conscience. In actuality, these people are only interested in being themselves, and have no sense that there might be something very misguided about that.

Where I'm going with all this is that people need to conform, to some extent. There are many reasons why, among them being that conformity promotes friendship, and the acceptance of our peers is important for our mental health. We need social bonds in order to develop well emotionally and to have good self esteem. But mostly-- and here's my primary thesis-- people need to act a certain way so society can run. It is one of the most basic tenets of a working civilization: that the individuals therein follow an implicit social contract of how to behave and interact with one another. When individuals have no regard for others' thoughts and opinions, in less severe cases, we get those people who have no courtesy, tact, or sense of social grace. They are obnoxious and sometimes offensive, but it doesn't usually go beyond that. It is in the more extreme cases that we get liars, cheaters, abusers, and psychopaths: those people who undermine the fabric of society.

While I certainly don't condone mindless, sheeplike behavior, and I will always argue that people should think for themselves above all else, I believe that conformity gets a pretty bad rap. We need to care what others think of us, so that we can remain decent human beings. A wise friend of mine once told me that "The human mind, when left to its own devices, is a dangerous thing". So true. We need others to keep us in line, as our system of checks and balances.

Our brain lies to us, frequently. Our emotions mislead us. Our gut reactions make us do terrible things, to ourselves and others. When people tell you to "Be Yourself", they forget to mention that the "self" is not one constant, unchanging thing. It is very much the product of our upbringing, and our environment, and our personality continues to change into old age. Moreover, we are different people depending on what context we're in, or who we're interacting with, or what we think is expected of us. They never tell you which "self" to be. They can't, because the "self" is as transient as sand, and if we rely too heavily on it, we will be carried away on its unstable flow.

I understand that these ideas may seem evil and tyrannical in this capitalist society, where we hold the Individual as the highest standard of good. But I think it is crucial to highlight the need for balance and moderation: being true to ourselves, and only ourselves, to the exclusion of what society wants from us can easily lead down a more insidious path than we may have been led to believe as children.

How To Be Happy

I think one of our primary goals on this earth is to be happy.

Call me selfish if you will, but almost all of our actions are motivated, either directly or indirectly, by a desire for happiness.

Sometimes it’s for short-term happiness, such as buying yourself ice cream just because. Other times it’s long term, such as forking out thousands and thousands of dollars for higher education.

Either way, we want to be happy, either now or later. Or both, preferably.

But the question that stumps so many of us is: how?

We’re not always clear-headed about what it is that will make us happy, especially since it’s so ambiguous. Is happiness pleasure? Contentment? Satisfaction? Is it a chemical, or is it the knowledge that things are the way you want them to be? Is it meant to be pursued here and now, even if it comes at the price of long-term happiness, or the other way around? Or maybe are we supposed to take the average of the two?

It can be confusing business. And maybe there’s not one right answer for everybody. But I do believe there are some tips that can aid everyone in their search.

Buddhism talks a lot about happiness by looking at the nature of suffering. One of the Four Noble Truths is that suffering is inevitable. It’s just going to happen. In other words, our lives aren’t always going to go the way we want them to, due to circumstances outside our control.

So here’s the first thing I glean from this basic truth: happiness is transient. When it comes to us, we should recognize that it can leave just as easily. And we should be grateful for it when it happens.

But here’s the second thing: suffering is transient, too. It will happen, but as they say, this too shall pass. What it takes to weather the storm is patience, and recognition that, in the grand scheme, a little bit of suffering really isn’t that big a deal.

I like the photo of the Buddha statue in the snow as a metaphor. He sits, constant and eternal, as the weather changes and flows around him. Sometimes it’s sunny and warm; other times he becomes buried in snow. But no matter the circumstances, he sits with a little smile on his face. He’s seen it all, and he knows that just as snow is part of the earth’s natural cycle, so too is sun. And he just has to wait for it.

I’m sure you’ve known someone like this: they always have a smile on their face, always have a positive outlook to offer. They are a rock, steady and stable, grounded in reality, not moved by the rise and fall of outside circumstances. I certainly know a handful of these people, and I asked a few of them what they think is the trick. Here are the two main things they talked about.


PERSPECTIVE

It’s so easy to get caught up in the pitfalls of our day-to-day life. Here’s an idea: write down all of the things that make you unhappy through the course of your day. Every single thing. At the end of the day, look at your list and think about how ridiculous it is. You missed the bus, so you were late for work or school. Sucky, sure. But life goes on. Tomorrow, you won’t even remember it. Besides which, please consider how lucky you are to have a job, or to be enrolled in school. Consider the luxury of cheap public transportation. Life is pretty awesome; why are we getting hung up on the tiny little things that aren’t perfect?

Perspective also means where you focus your attention. Will you pay more attention to what goes wrong or what goes as planned? I'll tell you right now that pessimism is more common than optimism, and I think that's because it's easier. We have to go out of the way to notice when things DON'T go wrong, because it's less obvious than when everything blows up in our face. But if we can practice gratitude for life's little gifts and blessings, it can make a big difference in the way we perceive the world.


CHOICE

Think of it as a matter of dignity: the trivial things that happen to you every day DON’T HAVE THE RIGHT to make you unhappy. You deserve better. They can only make you unhappy IF YOU LET THEM. And it’s not always easy, but it just takes practice. Honest. When it comes to the self-discipline it takes to make this happen, I’m a firm believer in the difference between thoughts and emotions. Emotions are triggered by events: when the crate of eggs drops and they break all over the floor, our first emotional impulse will probably be anger or frustration. But it’s what comes NEXT that is crucial: how we will choose to perceive it.

Here’s the process:
1. Anger—arrrgh!! (This will happen, and it's natural. But the key is step 2...)
2. Deliberate thought—okay, I don’t need to let this ruin my day. In the grand scheme of things, this is so not a big deal.

By exercising our discipline by going through this kind of routine every day, we can literally train our minds to be able to skip that first negative emotion and go straight to the deliberate, disciplined thought.

Optimism can be learned. It’s a skill, and as such, some people are born with a knack for it, and the rest of us just have to work harder.

And that’s really the crux of the whole issue: If you’re not happy, you can work to become happy. There are plenty of things that have been demonstrated to help:

-TAKE ON a new perspective.

-PURSUE goals that you care about.

-ENGAGE in every area of your life; make it count.

-FOCUS on the good, rather than the bad.

-EXPRESS gratitude.

Notice that these are all action words. Nowhere is there anything about BEING a happier person, or BEING more optimistic. They’re not character traits that you either have or you don’t. Happiness is, as they say, the journey, and a journey is made up of each step you TAKE.

Here's one last thing I want to mention, and it may be more important than anything else: this is all meant to apply to our lives in times of uncontrollable misfortune. However, sometimes there are terrible things about our life we CAN control. If the answer to the question "Is there anything you can do about it?" is yes, then the next question is: "Why aren't you doing it?" I'm a believer in self-efficacy, as I have discussed in earlier blog posts. Sometimes it comes in the form of us choosing to be happy; sometimes it means we take our lives in hand and make the changes we need to make in order to BE happy. All we have to figure out is where we fall on that spectrum, and then do something about it.


These are just my half-baked thoughts on the subject. What I'm interested in, really, is hearing from miserable people. I want to know why these things might not work. Let's have a conversation about it.
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Here's some handy links if you're interested in Positive Psychology, which greatly inspired my thoughts in this post.

Authentic Happiness: The Official Website of Martin Seligman, the psychologist at the forefront of the Positive Psychology movement. This great website describes his theory, has helpful questionnaires and gives great tips for what it takes to be happy.

TED Talks: Martin Seligman on Positive Psychology: Hear it in his own words.

The Happiness Project: An extensive blog hosted by Psychology Today with a plethora of interesting ideas and theories regarding how to be happy.



Photo used with permission. Source: http://www.flickr.com/photos/21556557@N06/2284840450/

Why I Love Psychology

I wrote the following essay as an entry for a $500 scholarship. The prompt was extremely open ended:

Requirements: Junior or Senior Stevenson College student
Majoring in Psychology and/or Legal Studies
Demonstrated academic excellence

Application: Submit a two-page statement explaining how you meet the scholarship requirements.
Include information regarding your background, interests, future plans and potential major(s).

So I basically wrote about why I love Psychology, what I've done with it so far, and what I hope to do with it in the future. I felt that this essay was blog-worthy, so here it is.

(Oh, and I also won the scholarship. :P)

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As a child, I spent a great deal of time traversing the roads of America with my parents. One of the primary consequences of such a hobby is getting to meet lots and lots of people.

There's a wide variety of interactions you can have while on the road. There are those people who are little more than nameless faces you catch a glimpse of from your car window. There are those you meet for thirty seconds, then never again. There are those who you have the chance to talk with just for a few minutes, and, though your time together was brief, they make a lasting impression on you. Then there are those who will gladly share their entire life's story if you have the endurance to listen for long enough.

I couldn't begin to count the people I've met in these twenty-one years. But even if I don't remember the vast majority of those individuals, the effect of having passed, ghost-like, through so many lives has been profound. Having gotten firsthand some idea of just how many people exist in this world made me determined to understand them better, to perceive that crowd as more than just a fast-moving blur. Then one day, I discovered Psychology, and things suddenly started clicking into place.

When I took my first Introduction to Psychology class, I knew I had stumbled across something amazing. It was unbelievable how much I found myself enjoying the material, never bored, always enthusiastic about learning more. Before I'd had no idea what I wanted my life to look like. But with Psychology, it was suddenly obvious what path I wanted to take.

I have spent the last four years immersed in the field of Psychology, which I think of as the study of people. To me, there is nothing more satisfying than to learn about the research behind the behavior I witness in myself and those around me every day. To begin to discover why we are the way we are seems like a miracle, like turning the lights on in a world which had, till then, been very dim.
At this point, I have found myself unexpectedly on the far side of my undergraduate career. When I made the realization that, soon, Psychology would mean more than taking notes and passing tests, I made the effort to throw myself headfirst into the field.

I started with research, connecting with my professors to find a place in their labs. I was intrigued at the idea of seeing Psychology in the making, as its academic minds attempted to solve the unsolved mysteries. I worked for five months as a Research Assistant, and was introduced to hot-off-the-press work that was being done in the field of Cognitive Psychology. I saw what life in the lab was really like, meeting with participants as I collected data. It was eye-opening, to be sure, getting a glimpse of the nuts and bolts behind what I'd been learning.

I went on to Teaching College Psychology, where I got the incredible opportunity to act as an Instructional Assistant to students in an Intro class. Together with the other IAs, we waded our way through the frightening new depths of imparting our knowledge to others. I led my own discussion section where we discussed and explored the material we had talked about in lecture. I encouraged the students to work with the curriculum on many different levels, so as to thoroughly absorb it, and in doing so, I was able to re-cement the knowledge as well.

Now, in my final year, I have embarked on the most rewarding and nerve-wracking journey yet: putting my knowledge to use out in the real world. I have begun an internship with Front Street, Inc, a local program that provides residential care for the mentally ill in the community. I have been given the chance to see the reality of a life in the mental health field, helping individuals to make the best of their difficult situations. Looking into the faces of the clients at these facilities, I can see the names behind the statistics, the humanity inherent-- but often hidden-- in the field. I am given a constant reminder that Psychology extends beyond textbooks and classrooms; it is working towards the daunting goal of providing care and relief for those who suffer mentally.

Post graduation, I am hoping to put my education to work as a Clinical Psychologist, working to both further current research and to help those who need it. I hope for the chance to, every day, have one-on-one conversations with other human beings as, together, we try to figure out what's wrong and what's right with us as people. I hope to get to meet some of the individuals in that nameless crowd I drove past as a child, to gain witness that we are all of us human, mixing our own distinctiveness into the world, making for a terrifying, confusing, and fascinating place to exist.

The Half-Full Glass that was Halfway Empty

Allow me to present a sort of a pickle I'm in.

I've believed for a long time that optimism is strictly more beneficial than pessimism. Assuming that you're not sacrificing realism, of course, it seems self-evident to me that we will be happier, stronger people if we try to adopt positive outlooks. Extrapolating on this view, I can see no advantage to anger, or holding grudges, or dwelling on misfortune-- what does it gain us to allow things in our lives to make us unhappy?

For this reason, I tend to argue that, given the option to stew over irritation at people we don't like, or an issue we wish we could escape, it will always be better to just let it go. Let it roll off your back-- like a duck, as my sixth grade teacher once told me.

I also believe that negativity often works as a self-fulfilling prophecy. If you are convinced that things are going to go wrong, or that you're going to have a terrible day, it is much more likely to be true. Focusing on the bad in the world makes it all the more apparent, until it truly does seem that that's all there is to see.

But here's the truth. I'm also incredibly cynical. Sometimes I can't help it, it just happens. The difference is, I don't like being cynical, so being optimistic takes an effort. But this weird disparity means I'm having a hard time approaching the question analytically. Like I said, the logic of optimism seems self-evident to me. But why is it bad to be angry and cynical? After all, the world isn't always rainbows and muffins. So optimists are going to experience more disappointment as compared to pessimists. Besides, negativity doesn't actually harm us, does it? If anything, it makes us more resilient to the terrible things that will inevitably happen, because we won't be caught completely off guard when fate decides to have a laugh at us. We will have seen it coming.

But that doesn't sound right to me either! I think negativity does weaken us, but I'm not at all sure why. Optimists, help me out. What are the concrete benefits to looking on the bright side of life? Pessimists, argue with me. Is being prepared for the worst worth the cost of viewing the world as even more of a dark, miserable place than it actually is?

Some food for thought:

"Holding on to anger is like grasping a hot coal with the intent of throwing it at someone else; you are the one who gets burned."
-The Buddha

"A pessimist is correct oftener than an optimist, but an optimist has more fun, and neither can stop the march of events."
-Robert A Heinlein

"I was thinking that it might do some good if we robbed the cynics, and took all their food. That way, what they believe will have taken place, and we'll give it to everybody who has some faith."
-Jewel

Say Something Nice

One of the best cures for a crappy day is an unexpected compliment. True?

Just think of those absolutely dreary, miserable, I-just-want-to-go-back-to-bed days, when, out of the blue, somebody drops one of those really great, really meaningful compliments that make you grin and blush like an idiot (though that may just be me). It gives you that warm fuzzy feeling, like drinking cocoa on a wintry day, snuggled up in a soft quilt with a kitty. Warmth in a blizzard, that's what a compliment can be like.

There's something so gratifying about being recognized, especially when you had no idea that people had noticed. Like when you have that talent that you're secretly very proud of, but are too shy to brag about, and then someone says "Hey, you're really pretty great at that." Is that not just a fantastic feeling?

Things like that stick with you. Here's an example: there is a certain acquaintance of mine of whom I have always been more than a little intimidated. He ranks high on my list of people with whom I know I will never be able to compete intellectually. Then one day, a couple of years ago, this person mentioned in passing that he considered me exceptionally intelligent, and said that I was actually a role model of his.

Imagine my shock. Now that's a paradigm shift if ever there was one.

Try to think about all the times you have thoughts like that about other people. There's that person with a really flattering blouse, or truly amazing shoes. The person who has something really insightful to say, that really makes you think. There's the people you deeply admire, or people who impress you with their abilities. Stuff like this crosses our mind all day.

Now the crucial question is: how often do you voice those thoughts?

I think it might be a little taboo to be so complimentary of others. It may come across as creepy or sycophantic, and we don't want to come on too strong. Or maybe we think they wouldn't really care, so we might as well just keep it to ourselves. Or sometimes when we see something we admire about someone, we assume they have probably heard about it a thousand times before, so we don't need to say anything.

But how often is that really true for ourselves? I know that I am grateful for every single compliment I receive. I know that their decision to voice their comment was probably a complete toss-up, and I feel very lucky that they happened to decide to say something.

What I'm trying to say is that we should speak up more often. Voice the little compliments, because they might not be so little to the person you're speaking to. Voice the big ones, because the more important those comments are to you, the more important they're likely to be to the person you think them about.

Compliment strangers; those comments often mean more because you could have walked by and said nothing, but instead you thought it was important enough to let them know you noticed something great about them. Compliment your friends; it's easy to neglect those we spend a lot of time around; always let them know that you see their talents and accomplishments. Compliment your loved ones; communicating and demonstrating appreciation will make our most important relationships stronger.

For those of you who are completely disgusted by the fact that my blog post has turned into a bit of a Kumbaya circle, you can also take a cost-benefit approach. You risk very, very little by making these sorts of comments. At the worst, they're a little weirded out, and then they move on with their life. At best… well, honestly, I believe the potential gain is immeasurable.

Whatever way you look at it, it can only do good. So next time you happen to notice something cool about someone else… do them a favor, and let them know.

☺

Joy in Sorrow

Ender’s Game is possibly my favorite book of all time. Every time I read it I experience something profound, something somehow earth-shattering. It’s not about the outstanding quality of writing and character development (although those don’t hurt, either); it’s the tragedy. The story this book tells is heartbreaking; for it to have happened, even in fiction, leaves you feeling sick in your soul. But it was powerful enough to touch your soul in the first place.

The magic of those tragedies make a story stick with us, get it under our skin so we cannot forget. We seem to be drawn to things like this. Why is that?

Perhaps what is so alluring is the feeling of reckless abandon, of being overpowered by sorrow. A friend of mine once told me that sometimes she just enjoys “wallowing” in it, just allowing herself to feel the sheer force of it. This is something that I can almost understand; we so often shy away from feeling sad to keep up with the expectations of others and ourselves, so that to allow ourselves to freely experience it may be in some way liberating.

But I think it’s more than that. When I was caught up in depression in a bad way, I found a certain thought continuing to crop up in my mind: that I was choosing to be sad all the time. That all of my actions were inexplicably—but deliberately— hurtling into the depressive episodes. It felt like an addiction. Like this thing was damaging my life, but I needed a hit anyway. When we read a sad story or see a sad movie, we are safe from the events that occur. So we are safe to feel sad, so we enjoy it that much more. But, in our own lives and experiences, we are finding ways to enjoy it that are just a little more dangerous.

Why could this be? What pleasure could we find in sorrow? Perhaps It’s the power and intensity of the feeling. Perhaps an emotional low can be just as exciting as an emotional high. The chemicals surge through our brain, eliciting this incredible sensation of misery. How amazing! How enrapturing. How very, inescapably human we are, to feel this emotion that can enfold us in its long arms and carry us into that dark, forbidden place of our own minds. How incredible it is to be alive.


What do you all think? Am I totally off the mark here? Am I just weird and masochistic? Please share your thoughts and experience.