Myself am Hell

  'King Lear' can appear to be a play of numbers: Lear and his hundred nights, and his one Fool, and his three daughters. But isn't it more the play in which Shakespeare demonstrates most keenly his expertise in the ways of the human mind? In the revelations that strike Lear like lightning bolts after he has rashly divided his kingdom between daughters Goneril and Regan, we see one of a succession of rebirths that the character goes through. Amidst his hyperbolic response to his daughters' ingratitude, Lear is aware of a strain upon his mental wellbeing: 'O Fool! I shall go mad' (II.IV.288). Lear knows that the unexpected and self-inflicted strain he has placed upon himself has the potential to induce a mental breakdown in a man whose will has always held absolute sway in life until this moment of abdication. I feel that 'King Lear' is the culmination of Shakespeare's exploration of how all human beings' lives are subject to fluctuations in our m

  I recently watched a film from December 2017 by Karol Jalochowski entitled 'Couldn't Care Less. Cormac McCarthy in conversation with David Krakauer.' Not only was it fascinating to sit in on an exchange between two such minds, but the direction of their conversation chimed, and made connections, with the direction of many of my current thoughts about OCD. Having read most of McCarthy's novels, but never having heard him speak on such a range of subjects at such length, I found it extraordinary to hear this great author conversing with David Krakauer (president of the Santa Fe Institute and Professor of Complex Systems) about everything from Frank Lloyd Wright, to Oppenheimer, to the workings of the unconscious mind. It is so gratifying that one of the greatest of all American fiction writers had such an inquiring, open, and flexible mind. In my own writing and thinking I have increasingly tried to embrace the broadest possible approach to learning that I can. Over the

  One of the clearest and most keenly felt ways in which OCD tries to direct and limit our lives is through avoidance. OCD will tell us that we can be safe, or in many cases we can keep others safe, if we avoid certain people or situations. Taken to its conclusion, OCD will push us to follow this course of action until we only stay at home or in our bedroom because this is the only way to guarantee our own safety and the safety of others. The all-consuming nature of OCD can be seen in the fact that such extreme measures taken in the interests of placating and satisfying OCD will do no such things. Nothing is ever enough to satisfy OCD's selfish greed for attention and control. By acting in the way that OCD tells us to act, we only dignify it with an authority it does not merit; we act upon OCD's lies as if they were truthful. I have been reading a book called Break Free from OCD by Dr Fiona Challacombe, Dr Victoria Bream Oldfield, and Professor Paul Salkovskis. The book contain

  In 2015's brilliant Mad Max Fury Road, the post-apocalyptic dictator Immortan Joe rules over the wasteland through the spurious quasi-religion of the 'Cult of the V8'. His authority is based on the myth of his immortality (hence the moniker 'Immortan') as well as control of the only source of drinkable water. Mythology is the basis for this very twisted future society in which 'milkers' provide 'Mother's milk' for the chosen few and 'breeders' are kept as slaves to provide healthy offspring for Immortan Joe. The movie shows us a patriarchal society in which machines are venerated and women treated as property. The Mad Max movies exist in their own universe (the latest instalment, Furiosa will be released next year), and are not intended to be social commentaries on existing societies or ideologies. However, Fury Road took over thirty years to come to fruition and in that time director George Miller and his team created a world far more

  I've selected Goya's 'The Sleep of Reason Produces Monsters' to accompany this blog post because it's a terrific evocation of just how far beyond our control the workings of our minds are.  Reason is switched off as the figure sleeps, and dark and shadowy beings from the recesses of the mind come into their own. The creatures become ever more shadowy and many in number the further back we go in the image. To me this suggests that the 'bats in the belfry' of the mind that Goya so dramatically brings to life are vast in number. This image speaks to me as someone with OCD because it gives a visual example of the futility of trying to suppress, control, neutralise, or otherwise prevent the presence of troubling or intrusive thoughts.  One person could not possibly capture and subdue all of the bats and strange birds (and the large cat!) in this image. And would it even be wise to try to do so? Goya makes it clear that the shadowy and troubling parts of the pic

  OCD is the black hole that exists somewhere in the background of all that I do. It is there when I think and write, there when I go to work, it is there when I go for a walk with my wife. I can't be sure, but I'd be willing to bet it's still there when I go to sleep, waiting, plotting.  OCD has one goal: to take all of our time, energy, and credulity. It is a liar that demands to be taken with the utmost seriousness. It will use our morals, beliefs, and convictions - the things we think make us good people - and invert them. It will tell us we are the epitome of all that is evil, depraved, and unforgiveable in humanity.  It will do all of the above with such easy and utter conviction that we feel we must give it attention. How do you ignore it when your own mind is telling you that you have committed rape, murder, and goodness knows what else? Once OCD has got your attention - and it's going to get your attention if you don't know that this is OCD because you'