Dreams, illness and the big question...

So I was reading the blog of a friend and she was discussing dreams and the effect of illness on them. It got me thinking about the nature of mental illness and it's ability to not only encourage creativity but to stifle it.

In good times imagination is there like a constant companion, commenting on your life or taking you somewhere out of the norm. It inspires you and keeps you going. The internal dialogue seems never-ending and you bask in the beauty of the worlds you are transported to. You get to feel the highs and lows of a life that you never have to live and gain insights into yourself without having to risk.

But in the moment where you need this release the most that is the moment it will abandon you. Cast you aside and leave you languishing in an abyss of nothingness. You brain will switch off and instead of the constant narration of your life and that of your imagination you are left with a blank, a void. What are we supposed to do in that moment?

My friend was discussing this in regards to depression, but I think it applies to more than just that. I have ME or Chronic Fatigue Syndrome and I do not have this problem often. I tend to have the opposite problem most of the time. My brain is too active for my body to keep up and i end up a crumpled heap on the floor. The medication I am prescribed to help with my condition causes the problems I have been discussing.

I have a choice to either take the level of medication that would do me the most good physically and suffer the constant silence in my brain. This is intolerable. It makes me feel how I imagine those at Krakatoa felt when they lost their hearing. I am disorientated and lost without my internal monologue and imagination. The other alternative is to go with a low dose of medication that does little but touch the surface of the problem.

So really the question remains can we live without the constant companion of our imagination? I believe yes, physically we can but we are restricted to life like that of a separated conjoined twin whose twin died during the separation. We are never quite whole and the void left by our other half is almost unbearable. It is a secret pain carried on the inside and I know it is not one I am willing to carry.

Til next time, keep dreaming...