A Debunk – “On Why Mental Illness is not Hereditary” – 8/16/2019

The same people who are against vaccines are also in support of the legalization of all manner of illegal drugs and narcotics. They believe both to fall into the same category of “freedom”, and yet, I’ll call it as falling into the category of “slavery”.

The Buddhists have a focus on two areas to the human: mind and body.

Either one can be enslaved. Those Africans of the past who were enslaved, were enslaved for their physical capabilities, and any sign of intelligence they showed was a sign that they’d be able to rebel, form a strategy for escape, and they were executed.

Why is it stated in the title that mental illness is not hereditary? It is for the reason that “mental illness” is what I believe to rise out of memory.

As children, these small ones do not understand the world, and through their curiosity, they ask many questions to parental figures. A mother, or a father, or anyone who can provide a response, that the child trusts.

Mental illness must be the thing that has come from everything unknown in a child’s mind, buried down in the subconscious; and as a child asks these questions, everything still left as not understood is made as a nightmare during a child’s sleep. Mental illness rises, as most should know, during the times of a person’s adolescent years. This is the stage of a human both hitting puberty (development of the body), and the development of their own mind, which causes the adolescent (objectively speaking) to attain their own independence. It is why I also believe that it was Nature’s decision, in the creation of our own minds, that upon the escape from absolute question, into the time when a human can create their own answers, during the stages of life when both mind and body develops, that objective independence is attained.

This is to say that independence is only ever gained when problems are solved.

By saying that mental illness is not hereditary, I am saying that only through memory of everything still misunderstood, comes to the adolescent as still blatant question. That is to say that as children, they were never given answers. As adolescents, they will begin to beg for these answers. And again, as adults, they are still looking for answers.

This is to say that science’s greatest achievement, or failure, is to provide society with no answers, no resolutions, and only an endless path of question for the individual life.

It is because every memory to a person has unearthed itself from the subconscious. A child at the age of four did not understand much, and so what was misunderstood came to the child as a nightmare, during sleep. Now, when the child is an adolescent, and forced, by Nature, to develop some form of answer, every question from childhood buried in that subconscious, is coming out as “nightmares” in the waking world. That is, these so-called “hallucinations” from Schizophrenics, are merely “misunderstood memories” that resonated from childhood and are still misunderstood by the adolescent.

And then, as the adolescent turns into the age of the adult (the age of 25 when the brain stops developing), they run into the same unanswered questions that are still begging for answers. That is, the superpowers, the politicians, and the hospitals are only “rushing to develop more powerful medicines” for the sake of their own desperation; because, as the powers are desperate in search for a conclusion, so are the weak desperate for an answer. And this is why I say that only through something we cannot ever understand, we will find all the answers possible to find.

Mental illness cannot be hereditary because such descriptions written above affect everyone. To say that it is hereditary is to only say that each child has a memory. You may as well be stating to each child that they have flesh and hair, or teeth and nails. You may as well be stating the same things to an adolescent or an adult. And then we wonder why everyone’s so conflicted with their identity.

Poem – “Blinding Tears, and Blinding Rage” – Depression

I am seated, with my head in my palms,
And I ponder to myself over what I’ve lost,

Besides another tear.

Another tear,
Another flake to the ashes,

Another memory to the burial,
Another fragment from the heavy weight
Seemingly lost, and now,
The Earth possesses it.

Of blinding tears, and blinding rage
That seems to be all I feel.

As my emotions are frenzied,
Between these two voids,
These two bleak confusions,
These two natural diseases.

Failure stings as much as it bleeds.
Wounds are nestled on my heart,

Guilt has wrapped itself
Around my tired form.

My form, vivid in all its gleaming,
Of all wounds with ragged flesh.

I would never be proud,
Of anything I’ve conquered,
On either fertile shores,
Or watery deserts.

Love once made its way to my mind,
By a singular path
;
It drew so many marks,
On where I allowed it to roam.

And now a mirror blocks my path.
It is my own path;

And a path, with such a mirror
That shows my face.
Revealing death, I see two eyes like orbs of steel,
Made present in what they reveal.

A face of ruby, and a heart of stone.
A man of no mercy upon his tired body.
I draw emptiness around,
Like a frigid cloak taken from a tundra,
Love, at my left hand,
Death, at my right.

And I collapse them, together.

Poem – “Guarantee me Death” – Suicide

Pain, I have endured,
And pain, I never silenced.
Pain has always been company,
My neighbor, my friend.

Pain has always flowed,
Behind me,
To show me,
The sands of a thirsty shore.

The disease called pain,
Has been my cure,
Has been my reminder,
To who I am, the miserable one.

Fate has always controlled me,
Made me one with a sadness,
Fate made me loathe,
As hate made me roam.

My body is a pile,
Atop another pile.
My eyes seem to sunder,
The world into oblivion.

My fortune has increased,
But my denial has increased.
My death will prove myself,
The coward, who betrayed pain.