One of the reasons the subtitle of this blog is “An insight into a medium mind” is that part of my condition means that I spend hours, if not days, not being myself. I do not mean that I simply feel unwell or off-kilter, in fact, what happens is that I truly forget who I am.
Over the twenty years which I have spent on this planet, I have – just as everyone does – experienced hardships and problems that have made being myself and accepting my lot in life incredibly hard. This is where what I call (yes I am a “Miranda” fan!) my medium mind enters into the equation.
Medium has two meanings:
1) synonymous with mediocre and average
2) the singular of media, entailing TV, movies, journalism and literature.
It is the second of the two that I associate my own mind with. For, whether I am deeply ensconced in an Austen novel or glued to “Firefly” on the television, I have left P. Mistry-Norman far behind in the real world. It is in this way that my mind becomes its own medium and portrays a story, just as a television screen would.
Now, I know this sounds preposterous and fanciful, hence why I have never revealed this fact about myself to anyone for fear they would deem me insane, but instead of it being a negative aspect of my disorder, I have – over the years – found it to be quite the opposite. It helps me to cope with things I find to be insurmountable and devastating in the real world.
I am not going to go into too much detail about this at the moment, especially since I am currently feeling quite like my old self, but I fully intend to track my delusions when they are next made manifest.
I would just like to request anyone reading this blog at this time to keep an open mind and not judge me too harshly for “inflicting my opinions on the world” as it was put in “Sherlock” recently.