"When I finally lose my mind entirely, will all who love me now abandon me? Will others tell them that the person who remains is not the person they loved? Will I be tucked away in a padded room to be forgotten? Who will still be there? Is it me, or some new sentience? Does the mental illness eventually consume the mind and become the consciousness?"
I submitted this thought to Deep Dream to generate Art based on this text 16 times.
A pattern developed immediately and held through all attempts. Each image produced was of one lone woman.
Many of the images give a vague sense of vulnerability or distress.
A friend weighed in on the topic as I was curious why the AI would be so consistent without any context that should steer it towards a woman or girl. He believes it is because it is centered in mental health.
Mental Health is often associated with women because men are less likely to seek help for mental health. Well, I didn't mention treatment, therapy, or medicine. So wouldn't that almost imply it was a male?
To which he pointed out that if AI is trained on information we have, and men do not get help as often, then most information on mental health would refer to women who are being treated.
At times it can seem like progress has been made toward destigmatizing mental health, but I think the hurdles within one's own mind are bigger barriers than the perceived attitude of society. I'm not very bothered when someone doesn't understand why I take medicine, or therapy, or thinks it's nonsense. I'm not saying I like it, but it is not factored in to why I do or don't seek help. Mostly, it's how I view being vulnerable.
It can be difficult to believe that anyone else experiences anything differently than I do. Despite overwhelming amounts of evidence. It can feel like I personally am not strong enough to overcome something that everyone faces.
I do not have good evidence for that though. Often, most people do not seem to understand or relate. The battle is internal, and unseen. I am fine with that. I would rather people do not know what I am fighting with. Then, if I do win, I can seem normal.
People like to say, there is no such thing as normal. Well, if that were true, then what is my mental illness being compared to? Psychiatrists and Psychologists are trying to help you reduce some thing that is interfering with your life. Normal may be ineffable, but it exists. If it did not, then how would determine someone had a deviation from the norm that justified help?
All that aside, there is the question that I started with. "When I finally lose my mind entirely, will all who love me now abandon me? Will others tell them that the person who remains is not the person they loved? Will I be tucked away in a padded room to be forgotten? Who will still be there? Is it me, or some new sentience? Does the mental illness eventually consume the mind and become the consciousness?"
Age does not seem to be kind on the mind, and mine has been at war since I can remember. Trying to discern. Not good from bad or right from wrong, but rational from irrational thoughts. Good or wrong, right or bad. It is further downstream. I can evaluate right and wrong, but if the subject is irrational, then my determination is moot.
If my ability to recognize when thoughts are irrational starts to dissipate, I wonder what will become of me. Most seem to worry that with age they will get forgetful. I do as well, but it is not the same. Will I forget the techniques I've learned in therapy to help myself? Will I forget the progress I have made through experience and fall victim to old foes? I used to wash my hands until they would bleed. I worked hard to correct this behavior. If I regress, how severe will it be when my skin is more frail?
I have witnessed some losing their minds. Where do "they" go when they "go?" May I be fortunate enough to never find out.
I have heard what people tell each other to cope with the loss of a loved one who is still living. "You cannot help them, the person you loved is not there anymore." I understand what it means. I understand what they're saying. I don't really think I even disagree with it. It just hurts to hear it said, even to console others.
Because there is a chance that some day it may be someone telling my wife, son, or daughter, that while his body is alive, daddy is gone.
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