Oct 30 2007
Friends
For some time now I have been wondering about the concept of friendship. My perception of this wonderful and mysterious interaction between humans is under constant devaluation because I spend too much time on the Internet. An Internet friend is someone who is sharing your interests, nothing more and nothing less. They occasionally send nice messages, usually with a link to their own site to draw some traffic, and for the rest they could not care less if you live or die.
I like it that way.
On a community web site one can have 300 friends without sweat. It’s superficial of course, because when these friendships grow into something more elaborate; one immediately has to deal with the complications of virtuality, such as different languages, the usual misinterpretations of e-mail, etc.
In real life having two or three real friends is a considerable investment of time and energy and if I look back, I must admit that my friends often treated me worse than my enemies. Holding on to that thought I must also face that I have probably done the same. I am not the one who sings “Non, je ne regrette rien” or “My Way” under the shower. I have some sincere regrets. By studying my wrongdoings I can easily find good reasons why, but that is beside the point. There is always an excuse and if there is none available; we humans will certainly produce one.
That is what seperates us from animals — more than intellect.
I am sure my friend Sylvaine has a perfectly good reason to describe me on her blog as a person suffering from the Stockholm syndrome. I am fully aware that a lot of people consider me to be suffering from one or two mental diseases and they are absolutely right. For those who are really concerned; I will gladly mail a PDF with the exact diagnosis, based on 20 years of therapy. It is a list of mental dysfunctions, but the Stockholm syndrome is simply not on it and even if it were I would not consider it to be a nice gesture if somebody would post my medical data on his or her blog.
Apparently there is something tricky about friendship. Maybe it is the mirror effect. In our selection of friends we search for common interests, goals, opinions etc. If we become successful at that we find a person who is so much alike that he or she soon becomes irritating. This sounds contradictory, but it seems we do not always like ourselves enough to spend too much time with our mirror image(s).
I may be a medically certified nutcase; but I am not without pride. I am certainly not ashamed of my mental aberrations and I have pretty much learned how to live with who I am after 52 years of struggle. Fighting mental disease is a top sport that requires persistence, endurance and commitment until the last breath.
When I am on the edge of losing this battle I always remind myself of the fact that 80% of the misery on this planet is caused by people who consider themselves to be in good mental health.
Dear Hans I’m trying to join you desperatly…I have great confusion with login, passwords and so on. And you know How sick I could be, and my cervic constant pain. I rebuild a new site…spending lot and lot of time…having probs with licence I bought with Adobe…jumping from a computer with XP and my new one with Vista…and finally finishing all this shits with my mother who have 90 years old last october 29. And we will survy…I was this morning 31 october…thinking like you about friendship and lonliness…and all syndrom that appears when you become old. I start again creating and posting but slow cause really those past weeks I was about becoming mad. I send you Jeanne Moreau youll find in stars..under construction…and all my love. I was also with my niece who speak currently dutch she live in Utrecht. I will try to login in your latest camdog in french.
With Love
Dear Sylvaine,
I warned you about sitting too much behind your computer with back pains. If you can – try to walk a little, instead of doing all that programming. The new site looks great. I like the new typography a lot.
Love and take care, you silly girl! ;-)
Thinking about the syndrome of Stockholm hope you understand that in all this article I was teasing…like usual. I won’t we both having a language barrier syndrome. I have few friends on the web…CH is very little. Meantime I really don’t care of what you say : copy/paste “They occasionally send nice messages, usually with a link to their own site to draw some traffic” Yes I spend too much time on the web and its not good. I give a lot and receive almost nothing. They are other point I will mention in my blog but in my language. I consider you as a friend and true you have a huge hearth. I follow you in all your site or blog. I love your work as photographer and conceptor, I think you are very skill, and I understand some of your passion. For some I wont share anymore. I have too much probs of login. And I dont care my traffic. I will try to spend a better autumn and winter than last year. And trying to live as if I could die the very minute after.
I love you silly dutch…I will try to log in Camdogs only this week-end without posting my sitename. OK I just see thats its impossible to post if all required field are filled. Fortunately I made another copy/paste.AAAAHHHHH
Sylvaine
Yes, I know dear. I was not talking about you when I wrote “They occasionally send nice messages, usually.. etc.” I always enjoy your music. I missed out on the tease with the Stockholm syndrome, though.
I had four friends over this weekend. You know real life, flesh and blood friends and they all had different opinions on my mental state, so I was grouchy… I am sorry!
Well aware as I am that I am more than a little goofy at times, if not always, I tend to overreact when people try to diagnose me.
My official diagnosis is PTS, post-traumatic stress disorder combined with severe panic attacks and depression of course. The latter sort of comes with the terrority, although one is never sure what was there first; the egg or the chicken.
I am also dependent on benzodiazepine, because anti-depressants just don’t manage to suppress the panic attacks. (And I do not like the effect they have on me. I cannot work on 30 or 60 mg of Remeron and I do love to work!) When I combine my medication with alcohol, which I unfortunately do at times – maybe because I live a very boring life due to these problems – I can turn into a living car bomb, metaphorically speaking, that is.
I do hate that addiction but even my psychiatrist sees few or no alternatives. Especially since I seem to be therapy-resistant. My (Dutch) verbal skills make it almost impossible for a psychologist to help me work on better cognitive awareness. (Haha! I speak-a-dee-lingo) And I do detest psychologists! They think life is always and under all circumstances “makeable” and I disagree with that. Sometimes there is just too much damage to be successful in repairing. Think of it as a car that is a total loss.
I will just have to live with who I am, as much as I hate it. Two or three panic attacks a day (during depressed periods) over twelve years is enough to make anybody want to hang himself, and I am not even talking about the digusting nightmares day-in day-out, but I am strong and I absolutely adore my son, so I go on.
Love, Hans
PS; In an earlier post, three years ago I think on Amea’s board you suggested that I was Bipolar. I tend to think that was a clever diagnosis.
Darling not dervish…
La derniere fois que j’ai posté un commentaire…mes oeufs durs ont brûlé, la casserolle aussi, et ma main en plus….Si cela n’est pas du désordre c’est en tous les cas de la panique de la part de mes oeufs abandonnés…et cela ressemble fort àun autodafé.
http://de.wikipedia.org/wiki/Autodaf%C3%A9
I dont want to speak online of my mental desorder…I have too many…in a single, simple, women. A bit like Jekyll and Hyde. So have pain again…not able to log…But following your sigh and sight.
Love