Daily Archives: February 25, 2015
Grief, Compassion, and Love
Today my husband flew up to visit his brother who is at home receiving hospice care for advanced lung cancer which has aggressively metastasized. This post serves as a prayer for my husband, his brother, and the rest of their…
I need to start over……
It seems that there are days when I just shouldn’t even get out of bed. It’s like I wake up anxious and annoyed at everything and nothing all at the same time. Then I spend mot of the day fighting with myself to keep my mouth shut and to be nice. There have been times hen the simple act of keeping my mouth shut has been like a world war. Everything in me is fighting against that small part of my brain that says, “just shut up, shut up right now”.
I don’t purposely do things to hurt people. I’m sure I have in the past and I will be the first one to tell you that words have power. It is not only important to realize that your words have power, but that you can’t take them back. No one is perfect and no one will ever get it right all the time. But I try to make the effort to reply watch my words and opinions. Especially when people are around that don’t truly know me. Plus, I truly believe society places to high a price on appearance. I don’t mean how you look, although that is true too, I mean society wants people to be nice and kind and fit into a box of what certain traits mean.
Part of my diagnosis was Narcissistic Personality Disorder. I haven’t really talked about it much because honestly it means very little to me. While I have hurt people in my life, I don’t walk around using everyone I come in contact with and always putting myself first. Although, I will tell you that because of this I don’t have a lot of fear. I know I’m amazing and that I will be fine no matter what happens. I know this because I am awesome. I also know this because God says so. No matter how many times I screw up and hurt people He still loves me and I’m still his baby. Anyway, my husband said when I got diagnosed, ” I can deal with the narcissism that’s just who you are, I can’t deal with the emotional roller coaster”. I thought that was very fitting and pretty much hit the nail on the head. I try to work on being less selfish and narcissistic and have been for about 5 years now. But it is a battle I will fight for the rest of my life and something that will never be easy or second nature for me because that’s not how I’m wired.
Things are often what they are. They aren’t “right” or “wrong” they just are. Facts are facts it might be nice to imagine what a good childhood would have been like but you can never know if I good childhood wasn’t your reality. When I tell people that I am lazy it’s not so they will disagree. It’s a factual statement. Don’t get me wrong my lazy is some peoples 100% but that doesn’t mean I don’t know I can be lazy at times. And I don’t expect someone to tell me something that isn’t true. My husband and I have these conversations and I will say something and he will respond in a way that sounds defensive. I say it’s not a dig or insult it’s just a fact or observation with no judgement attached. Some times we forget that our words can sound harsh and judgmental even if we don’t mean them to be.
Random thoughts of the day. Be blessed.
You know you’re doing well when you’re sitting in your psychiatrist’s office and all the two of you do is BS for the entire 50 minutes.
While he did find something to nag me about—he always does—the need for a colonoscopy is not imminent, and for the rest of the time we told each other funny stories and generally enjoyed each other’s company.
This is a far cry from where we were just a few months ago. Back then there was no lighthearted banter as I was locked in a life-or-death struggle with my disease; only the passage of time and the reassessment of the circumstances have made me realize how very close I came to ending it all. And only the fear of eternal separation from God and the love of my husband kept me here…..and even that almost wasn’t enough.
But now the tide has turned and life, while not thrilling, has become kinder. It doesn’t hurt that the weather has been gorgeous lately; I feel light and breezy, like I do in the early summer, only without the manic component. Suddenly it’s easy to overlook the sins of the guy who just cut me off in traffic, or to be extra nice to the harassed checkout girl at Safeway. What’s more, I no longer feel so guilty over losing the house and the lifestyle we once enjoyed. It happened, it’s over, there’s no going back…..and it’s OK.
In fact, things are so OK that I won’t see Dr. Awesomesauce until May. It’ll be the longest time I’ve gone without seeing him in the three years he’s been my doctor, but it’s time to let the leash out a little bit and we both know it. It’s nice to not need him so much now, even though he ranks second only to Will on my candidate-for-sainthood list. Maybe he’ll finally forget about that stupid toucan shirt in the meantime…..and then again, maybe not.
It’s all good. :-)
Three Life Lessons
A friend posted a question to Facebook this week. She'll be turning 30 soon and was asking for any advice or life lessons or tips as she heads toward this milestone birthday.
I'll be 32 in August. While not that much older than her, I've learned lots over the past few years. Two of my three hospitalizations happened within the last two years. There's nothing like a crisis to teach you some life lessons!
Here's what I told my friend, and now you:
- Trust your gut. Follow your instincts. This holds true for personal and professional plans. During my second hospitalization I decided that I wanted to become a therapist. I was in the hospital arguing with the doctors and nurses, telling them how to do their jobs, and advocating on behalf of the other patients. I realized I could "do this." I could become a social worker and advocate for consumers on a professional level. If all goes according to plan, I'll be in graduate school for my MSW in September.
- Make time for your loved ones. People are more important than things. Hands down. Don't make it a habit of cancelling plans or putting off spending quality time with your family and friends. Yes, it takes an effort, and we are all busy. But you won't regret it.
- Make self-care a priority. Whatever restores you and feeds your soul: do more of that. I've always been interested in self-care, but over the last two years I've realized how important it actually is for mental and overall wellbeing. Self-care is so important to avoiding the burn out that can happen from work or home life. Make you a priority in your own life.
Beyond what I've shared here, I implore you to listen to your own truths. If you pay attention, your own life has taught you many lessons too. In the words of one of my favorites, Ralph Waldo Emerson: "Trust thyself: every heart vibrates to that iron string."
An Unquiet Mind
bpnurse is the blogger who started it all for me. She is excellent! Here is a little info on a book she is reading.
Originally posted on bpnurse:
In an effort to get back into reading again, I got a library card and checked out Kay Redfield Jamison’s “An Unquiet Mind”, which I’ve wanted to read for years. Dr. Jamison is a well-known bipolar expert who happens to suffer from a particularly nasty version of BP 1, making her writing that much more credible given her lived experience with the disorder.
It took me a full week, reading in fits and starts according to my attention span, but I made it through this fascinating story of manic-depressive illness (she doesn’t like the term ‘bipolar’). The only problem is that it’s made me question my own diagnosis: how could I be in the same category with someone who’s gone through psychotic manias so severe that she became violent, needing hospitalization and sometimes even physical restraints?
OK, I’ve had episodes where I was verbally abusive and thrown things. I even…
View original 220 more words
When Life Gets Lost In The Details
I think I last bathed on Sunday. (Yes, gross, I know.) On the plus side, I am keeping the dishes done. Maybe because my subconscious feels they are more worthy of the time and attention than I feel I am.
I don’t know, I baffle myself.
I crashed so hard last night. I’m talking 5:30 pm, hiding in my bedroom crash. Just absolute bleakness like I’d been dosed with something, it came on so abruptly. And meantime, I am trying to be loving mommy and snuggle and read to my kid and she keeps asking, “Why do you look so sad, Mommy?”
That’s the million dollar question.
Nothing in my life has really changed. The usual stresses. No huge calamities. So why am I crashing into the abyss this way? If anything, as the season change nears, I should be bordering on manic.
Yet I am not, and it was the same last year. I kept waiting for the depression to lift and it was summer before it did. And I was sliding back down the rabbit hole by September. My psych clinic claims they specialize in seasonal affect disorder and yet it seems to be the one area where they have failed me the most.
And yesterday I decided to check out my current doc’s credentials. He graduated from a school in Mexico, translation of which is something to the extent of University of Chihuahua. Not to be judgmental but I can’t even say it with a straight face. My mother doctor graduated from Sarajevo.
Do Americans not go into psychiatry anymore? And no I am not racist, it’s a general observation since of all my doctors, only three were American.
And I think the answer is yes, lots of Americans go into psychiatry. They just don’t want stuck in this armpit of the midwest. That’s why we get telepsychiatry. They can’t even be bothered to drive one day a week to this miserable place.
So…Yeah. I was asleep by 7:30 last night, didn’t even eat supper. Instant my kid was down, I was too. But I kept tossing and turning and waking up. I could be a bloody grandfather clock chiming every hour the way I seem to wake up every hour. And that too is not normal, winter is usually my “sleep too much” period.
My instability has gone ever more unstable. The universe has a wicked (sucky) sense of humor.
Shower. I need to do that.
Why does it feel like such a chore?
Isn’t it enough I went out yesterday with bra and underwear and clothes I hadn’t slept in?
Of course, yesterday was a treat in itself. I was lambasted for not being good company, then asked, “How many things have you screwed up this week?” Oh and it was rubbed in my face how some stoner is now doing all the computer work that I was supposed to have trained for.
I should have skipped the tiger tattoo and gone with LOSER on my forehead. Because this is all being said by people allegedly like me.
I am submitting my disability paperwork today, after I run some print outs at the library. (I have two printers and can’t afford ink for either, cos apparently squeezing each squid is expensive for Canon and Lexmark) I am including journal entries from Feb of 13 to Feb of 15, as well as a list of all the doctors I have seen over the years and how as soon as I start to improve, the seasonal kicks in or the doctors leave.
I’m not sure how much weight it will carry but a willingness to see a doctor of their choosing should be a good indicator that I have nothing to hide except insanity. Or in this politically correct world “state of being sanity challenged.”
There is only so much I can, some things are beyond my control. Giving myself more ulcers isn’t going to change a thing. Let go and let god.
I won’t go down without a fight, though. I haven’t lost faith in myself but a steady doctor for stable care might actually help.
Ugh. Seems like so much work.
I got my kid dressed and out the door, isn’t that enough? And I think her shoes were even on the right feet, though I think she may have taken advantage of my morning lethargy and worn shirt with stains simply because she loves it so much.
I fed the cats.
I don’t wanna shower. What’s the point?
Um…It’s going on three days, I guess that’s the point.
It’s so bizarre because I am normally an obsessive compulsive about being clean myself. Once you go down that rabbit hole,who you are becomes a totally different being.
A Note About Love
I guess this post should have been a Valentine’s Day one, but I’ve been reading Alexandra Stoddard lately, her books about loving those you are close to and how to be at home with them. I’m partway through “Happiness for Two” and I’m moved to write about Bob, my husband
He has been such a rock for me for almost 25 years now. We dated four years before we were married and even then, he had a wonderful tolerance for my moods, enthusiasms, and ups and downs. He was the first man I ever really opened my heart to–he was my first boyfriend, and even when we went through a short period when we dated other people, he was still one of my best friends.
The day we came back from the honeymoon, the knowledge was finally setting in that I was moving in with him and would be with him the rest of my life, God willing. I still had a rocky relationship with my parents and knew I would never live with them again, but it broke through to me that I had just made a lifetime commitment, especially since we went through the day changing checking accounts, getting my new driver’s license, and getting a new Social Security card. I was uncharacteristically quiet all day, almost scared. And he noticed. All he said was that he hoped I found a job where the boss would be accepting of my moods and didn’t press me for details. I don’t know what I would have said to him if he did.
We’ve been through several deaths, the birth of three children, moves from one house to another, a child’s rebellious stage, several job changes for me and him, the flu, chickenpox, rotavirus, pneumonia, and everything in between. Even when my moods oscillated wildly, he never got mad or upset with me about them. The only one he couldn’t stand was what he called “whining”–fussing about something that wasn’t going to change. When we were going through rough times, often he would write me a letter talking about how proud he was of me handling everything that was going on.
When he found out I had tried to act on my obsession with his co-worker, he was so, so hurt. I knew he would be if he ever found out,. And for a while I didn’t know if we were going to make it through that. But he was still kind to me and never let on to the children the kind of trouble we were having. He didn’t walk out on me or kick me out; he didn’t abdicate his role as a dad, he supported me when I needed ti with the kids and has never, ever thrown the situation back in my face at any point.
So many marriages don’t make it through bipolar episodes,. I am blessed to be in one that has. Thank you, Bob for loving me more than I thought anyone ever could.
Writer’s Quote Wednesday – Helen Keller
. Thank you Colleen Chesebro at SilverThreading.com for organizing Writer’s Quote Wednesday 2015. Filed under: Writing Tagged: friendship, Helen Keller, Writer’s Quote Wednesday
She Dreamed of Citrine
Posted in Read Along
Tagged mental health
famous last words of manic depressives
This is one mofo of a long post and more of a resource, or browsing material than a nice and cogent read.
Triggers: suicide, death. (I am no vulture though, there’s no disrespect or violence here.) Here is an excellent page about bipolar suicide. A good resource for both bipolar people and the people around them.
If anybody could have saved me it would have been you. (Virginia Woolf)
Not every death listed was overtly tragic. Florence Nightingale, for example, died peacefully, aged 90. Winston Churchill, who experience suicidal ideations, grew old and did not commit suicide.
This isn’t an attempt to be macabre; I thought it would be interesting to collate some final words of people who are or were bipolar, or allegedly bipolar. In my experience of death so far (the five or so that I’ve been present at) (nope I didn’t do it), there were no meaningful last minute epiphanies. Having perused as many last words and epitaphs as I could find (and think of), I haven’t found some kind of meaningful bipolar commonality. The reassuringly human common denominator is that people are born, they live and they die – always in that order and no options or exclusions. Yell if you spot a pattern; I have tried and failed.
The Woolf quote back there, is particularly telling, I think. Suicides usually don’t want survivors to blame themselves, and survivors (naturally) usually blame themselves.
Forensic psychiatry sometimes appears to equate artistic temperament with bipolar as fuck. Twas still fun to research though.
And please feel free to correct or add stuff in the comments. Apologies for the lack of sources … I would like to cite ‘the internet’. Right at the end, there are a couple of quotes about suicidal ideation.
Sylvia Plath – Call Dr. Horder.
Vincent van Gogh – La tristesse durera toujours. Translation: The sadness will last forever.
Winston Churchill – I’m bored with it all.
Edgar Allen Poe – Lord help my poor soul.
Ernest Hemingway – Goodnight kitten.
Lord Byron – Now I shall go to sleep.
Rigoberto Alpizar – I got to get off this plane.
Emily Dickinson – I must go in, for the fog is rising.
Friedrich Nietzsche – Mutter, ich bin dumm. (Mother, I am stupid.)
Adolf Hitler – told his personal aide “…to break up and scatter to the West.” To which his aide replied, “For whom should we fight now?” Hitler, in a monotone voice, said, “For the coming man.”
Florence Nightingale – I smell burning.
Fernando Pessoa – I know not what tomorrow will bring.
Napoleon Bonaparte – Josephine … Josephine …
Elvis Presley – at final press conference: I hope I haven’t bored you. To his fiancé: I’m going to the bathroom to read.
Meriwether Lewis – I am not a coward, but I am so strong. So hard to die.
Thomas Lovell Beddoes – I wish my corpse to be burned in a funeral pyre by the sea. Please buy for Dr. Eklin one of those new devices—I think it’s called Reade’s Best Stomach Pump.
Hans Christian Andersen – Don’t ask me how I am, I understand nothing more.
Leo Tolstoy – usually quoted as: But the peasants, how do they die? Actual words: I’ll go somewhere where no one can bother me… Leave me alone… I must run away, run away somewhere…
Sylvia Plath – Even amidst fierce flames, the golden lotus can be planted.
Spike Milligan – Duirt me leat go raibh me breoite. Translation: I told you I was ill.
Winston Churchill – I am ready to meet my Maker. Whether my Maker is prepared for the great ordeal of meeting me is another matter.
Ludwig Boltzmann – S = k log W
Frank Sinatra – The best is yet to come.
Virginia Woolf – Against you I will fling myself
unvanquished and unyielding, O Death!
Charles Bukowski – Don’t Try.
Emily Dickinson – Called back.
Ian Curtis – Love Will Tear Us Apart.
Edvard Munch – From my rotting body flowers shall grow, and I am in them, and that is eternity.
Amy Winehouse – Loving daughter and sister, you will be missed dearly, may you lay to rest.
Vivien Leigh – Now, death, can thou boast in thy possession a lass unparallel’d…
Robert Schumann – DEM GROSSEN TONDICHTER VON SEINEN FREUNDEN UND VEREHRERN ERRICHTET AM 2. MAI 1880, Translation: For the great sound poet erected by his friends and admirers on 2. May 1880.
Fernando Pessoa – Fui o que não sou Translation: I was what I am not.
Lord Byron – But there is within me which I shall tire, Torture and Time and breathe when I expire.
Ernest Hemingway – Best of all he loved the fall, The leaves yellow on the cottonwoods, Leaves floating on the trout streams, And above the hills, The high blue windless skies.
Ludwig von Beethoven – Friends applaud, the comedy is finished.
Vincent van Gogh – Here lies Vincent Van Gogh (1853-1890)
Napoleon Bonaparte – Je desire que mes cendres reposent sur le bords de la Seine a milieu de ce peuple Français que jaitant aime. Translation: I want my ashes to rest on the edges of the Seine , in the midst of the French people that I loved so much.
Samuel Taylor Coleridge – Stop, Christian Passer-by! – Stop, child of God, And read with gentle breast. Beneath this sod A poet lies, or that which once seem’d he. O, lift one thought in prayer for S.T.C.; That he who many a year with toil of breath Found death in life, may here find life in death! Mercy for praise – to be forgiven for fame He ask’d, and hoped, through Christ. Do thou the same!
Meriwether Lewis – Immaturus obi: sed tu felicior annos Vive meos, Bona Republica! Viva tuos (I died young: but thou, O Good Republic, live out my years for me with better fortune.)
Ralph Waldo Emerson – THE PASSIVE MASTER LENT HIS HAND TO THE VAST SOUL THAT OER HIM PLANNED
Charles Dickens – He was a sympathiser to the poor, the suffering, and the oppressed; and by his death, one of England’s greatest writers is lost to the world.
According to an Stephen Fry wants his to say: “With thanks to the ingraver for speling my epitarf propperly (all sic).
[E]very seventeen minutes in America, someone commits suicide . . . Mostly, I have been impressed by how little value our society puts on saving the lives of those who are in such despair as to want to end them. It is a societal illusion that suicide is rare. It is not. – KAY REDFIELD JAMISON (1946- ) (From her book “Night Falls Fast”)
I feel certain I am going mad again. I feel we can’t go through another of those terrible times. And I shan’t recover this time. I begin to hear voices, and I can’t concentrate. So I am doing what seems the best thing to do. You have given me the greatest possible happiness. You have been in every way all that anyone could be. I don’t think two people could have been happier till this terrible disease came. I can’t fight any longer. I know that I am spoiling your life, that without me you could work. And you will I know. You see I can’t even write this properly. I can’t read. What I want to say is I owe all the happiness of my life to you. You have been entirely patient with me and incredibly good. I want to say that – everybody knows it. If anybody could have saved me it would have been you. Everything has gone from me but the certainty of your goodness. I can’t go on spoiling your life any longer.
I don’t think two people could have been happier than we have been.
Speaking from the tongue of an experienced simpleton who obviously would rather be an emasculated, infantile complain-ee. This note should be pretty easy to understand.
All the warnings from the punk rock 101 courses over the years, since my first introduction to the, shall we say, ethics involved with independence and the embracement of your community has proven to be very true. I haven’t felt the excitement of listening to as well as creating music along with reading and writing for too many years now. I feel guity beyond words about these things.
For example when we’re back stage and the lights go out and the manic roar of the crowds begins., it doesn’t affect me the way in which it did for Freddie Mercury, who seemed to love, relish in the the love and adoration from the crowd which is something I totally admire and envy. The fact is, I can’t fool you, any one of you. It simply isn’t fair to you or me. The worst crime I can think of would be to rip people off by faking it and pretending as if I’m having 100% fun. Sometimes I feel as if I should have a punch-in time clock before I walk out on stage. I’ve tried everything within my power to appreciate it (and I do,God, believe me I do, but it’s not enough). I appreciate the fact that I and we have affected and entertained a lot of people. It must be one of those narcissists who only appreciate things when they’re gone. I’m too sensitive. I need to be slightly numb in order to regain the enthusiasms I once had as a child.
On our last 3 tours, I’ve had a much better appreciation for all the people I’ve known personally, and as fans of our music, but I still can’t get over the frustration, the guilt and empathy I have for everyone. There’s good in all of us and I think I simply love people too much, so much that it makes me feel too fucking sad. The sad little, sensitive, unappreciative, Pisces, Jesus man. Why don’t you just enjoy it? I don’t know!
I have a goddess of a wife who sweats ambition and empathy and a daughter who reminds me too much of what i used to be, full of love and joy, kissing every person she meets because everyone is good and will do her no harm. And that terrifies me to the point to where I can barely function. I can’t stand the thought of Frances becoming the miserable, self-destructive, death rocker that I’ve become.
I have it good, very good, and I’m grateful, but since the age of seven, I’ve become hateful towards all humans in general. Only because it seems so easy for people to get along that have empathy. Only because I love and feel sorry for people too much I guess.
Thank you all from the pit of my burning, nauseous stomach for your letters and concern during the past years. I’m too much of an erratic, moody baby! I don’t have the passion anymore, and so remember, it’s better to burn out than to fade away.
Peace, love, empathy.
Frances and Courtney, I’ll be at your alter.
Please keep going Courtney, for Frances.
For her life, which will be so much happier without me.
I LOVE YOU, I LOVE YOU!
The Political Testament
Since 1914, when as a volunteer, I made my modest contribution in the World War which was forced upon the Reich, over thirty years have passed.
In these three decades, only love for my people and loyalty to my people have guided me in all my thoughts, actions, and life. They gave me the strength to make the most difficult decisions, such as no mortal has yet had to face. I have exhausted my time, my working energy, and my health in these three decades.
It is untrue that I or anybody else in Germany wanted war in 1939. It was desired and instigated exclusively by those international statesmen who were either of Jewish origin or working for Jewish interests. I have made so many offers for the reduction and elimination of armaments, which posterity cannot explain away for all eternity, that the responsibility for the outbreak of this war cannot rest on me. Furthermore, I never desired that after the first terrible World War a second war should arise against England or even against America. Centuries may pass, but out of the ruins of our cities and monuments of art there will arise anew the hatred for the people who alone are ultimately responsible: International Jewry and its helpers!
As late as three days before the outbreak of the German-Polish War, I proposed to the British Ambassador in Berlin a solution for the German-Polish problem — similar to the problem of the Saar area, under international control. This offer cannot be explained away, either. It was only rejected because the responsible circles in English politics wanted the war, partly in the expectation of business advantages, partly driven by propaganda promoted by international Jewry.
But I left no doubt about the fact that if the peoples of Europe were again only regarded as so many packages of stock shares by these international money and finance conspirators, then that race, too, which is the truly guilty party in this murderous struggle would also have to be held to account: the Jews! I further left no doubt that this time we would not permit millions of European children of Aryan descent to die of hunger, nor millions of grown-up men to suffer death, nor hundreds of thousands of women and children to be burned and bombed to death in their cities, without the truly guilty party having to atone for its guilt, even if through more humane means.
After six years of struggle, which in spite of all reverses will go down in history as the most glorious and most courageous manifestation of a people’s will to live. I cannot separate myself from the city which is the capital of this Reich. Because our forces are too few to permit any further resistance against the enemy’s assaults, and because individual resistance is rendered valueless by blinded and characterless scoundrels, I desire to share the fate that millions of others have taken upon themselves, in that I shall remain in this city. Furthermore, I do not want to fall into the hands of enemies who for the delectation of the hate-riddled masses require a new spectacle promoted by the Jews.
I have therefore resolved to remain in Berlin and there to choose death of my own will at the very moment when, as I believe, the seat of the Fuehrer and Chancellor can no longer be defended. I die with a joyful heart in the awareness the immeasurable deeds and achievements of our soldiers at the front, of our women at home, the achievements of our peasants and workers, and the contribution, unique in history, of our youth, which bears my name.
It goes without saying that I thank them all from the bottom of my heart and that it is also my desire that in spite of everything they should not give up the struggle, but continue fighting wherever they may be, faithful to the great Clausewitz, against the enemies of the Fatherland. From the sacrifices of our soldiers and from my own comradeship with them, there will come in one way or another into German history the seed of a brilliant renaissance of the National Socialist movement and thus the realization of a true national community.
Many very brave men and women have resolved to link their lives to mine to the very end. I have requested them, and finally ordered them, not to do so, but instead to take part in the continuing struggle of the nation. I ask the commanders of the army, navy, and air force to strengthen by all possible means the spirit of resistance of our soldiers in the spirit of National Socialism, emphasizing especially that I too, as founder and creator of this movement, have preferred death to cowardly flight or even capitulation.
May it be one day a part of the code of honor; as it is already in the navy, that the surrender of an area or of a town is impossible, and above all in this respect the leaders should give a shining example of faithful devotion to duty unto death. Before my death I expel the former Reichsmarschall Hermann Goering and deprive him of all the rights he may enjoy by virtue of the decree of June 29, 1941, and also by virtue of my statement in the Reichstag on September 1, 1939. I appoint in his place Grossadmiral Doenitz as President of the Reich and Supreme Commander of the Armed Forces.
Before my death I expel the former Reichsfuehrer-SS and Minister of the Interior Heinrich Himmler from the Party and all offices of state. In his place I appoint Gauleiter Karl Hanke as Reichsfuehrer-SS and Chief of the German Police and Gauleiter Paul Giesler as Reich Minister of the Interior.
Goering and Himmler, by their secret negotiations with the enemy, without my knowledge or approval, and by their illegal attempts to seize power in the state, quite apart from their treachery to my person, have brought irreparable shame to the country and the whole people.
In order to give the German people a government composed of honorable men, who will fulfill their duty of continuing the war by all available means, I, as the Fuehrer of the nation, nominate the following members of the new Cabinet:
President of the Reich: Doenitz; Chancellor of the Reich: Dr. Goebbels; Party Minister: Bormann; Foreign Minister: Seyss-Inquart; Minister of the Interior: Gauleiter Giesler; Minister for War: Doenitz; C.-in-C. of the Army: Schoerner; C.-in-C. of the Navy: Doenitz; C.-in-C. of the Air Force: Greim; Reichsfuehrer-SS and Chief of the German Police: Gauleiter Hanke; Economics: Funk; Agriculture: Backe; Justice: Thierack; Culture: Dr. Scheel; Propaganda: Dr. Naumann; Finance: Schwerin-Krossigk; Labor: Dr. Hupfater; Munitions: Saur; Leader of the German Labor Front and Member of the Reich Cabinet: Reichminister Dr. Ley
Several of these men such as Martin Bormann, Dr. Goebbels, etc., together with their wives, have joined me by their own free will and do not wish to leave the capital of the Reich under any circumstances, but on the contrary are willing to perish with me here. Yet I must ask them to obey my request, and in this instance place the interests of the nation above their own feelings.
Through their work and loyalty they will remain just as close to me as companions after my death, just as I hope that my spirit will remain amongst them and will always accompany them. Let them be hard, but never unjust; above all, let them never allow fear to counsel their actions, but may they place the honor of the nation above everything on this earth. Finally, may they be conscious of the fact that our task of building a National Socialist state represents the labor of the coming centuries, and this places every single person under an obligation always to serve the common interest and to subordinate his own interests. I demand of all Germans, all National Socialists, men and women and all soldiers of the Armed Forces, that they remain faithful and obedient to the new government and to their President unto death.
Above all, I charge the leadership of the nation and their followers with the strict observance of the racial laws and with merciless resistance against the universal poisoners of all peoples, international Jewry.in, 29th April
1945, 4: a.m.
signed: A. Hitler
Signed as witnesses:
Dr. Joseph Goebbels
I’m going to be a superstar musician, kill myself, and go out in a flame of glory . . . I want to be rich and famous and kill myself like Jimi Hendrix. – KURT COBAIN (1967-1994)
I’m not worried about what’s going to happen when I’m thirty, because I am never going to make it to thirty. You know what life is like after thirty – I don’t want that. – KURT COBAIN (1967-1994)
I don’t like standing near the edge of a platform when an express train is passing through. I like to stand right back and if possible get a pillar between me and the train. I don’t like to stand by the side of a ship and look down into the water. A second’s action would end everything. A few drops of desperation. Winston Churchill
In terms of pattern recognition, as I wrote earlier, I found none. We can say various statistical things about the causes of death in bipolar people; I read somewhere that the leading cause is heart disease (our brains make too much cortisol). The suicide rate is way, way higher than the average, and so on. But death is death, and people exit in various states and shapes.
We are, simply, human beings.