Four Walls and a Bright Light – Barrier Series # 4

Bathed in Bright Lights

https://opponix.com/dzdyhey Bright Lights © 2012 Bo Mackison

Buy Valium Eu “Fear is a natural reaction to moving closer to the truth.” ~ follow site Pema Chödrön

http://geoffnotkin.com/laygu/buy-valium-diazepam-10mg.php This post is the fourth in a series of my story, an intimate exploration of art and healing. See the introduction and complete series at  go here My Healing Journey.

https://www.mckenziesportsphysicaltherapy.com/kuznp1w18y I spent several months in the hospital. But after my initial admission, my condition went from extremely ill to critical, doctors transferred me to the equivalent of the critical care unit of a medical unit. But unlike a medical ICU with its high-tech equipment and constant activity, a person who needs a psychiatric ICU needs a different sort of healing space. She needs as little stimulus as possible. It is a time to quiet a system gone haywire from too much input.

http://foodsafetytrainingcertification.com/food-safety-news/cesk5tif6 By law, a patient must be placed in the least restrictive environment to treat their symptoms – I signed an admission form with a list of my rights – but my condition required drastic measures.

https://www.frolic-through-life.com/2025/01/2x5qtrr3bt My world for several weeks was in a “Quiet Room” — a 8 x 8 foot cell-like room. The walls were softly padded, the floor was indestructible tile, the only window was covered with steel mesh and fully curtained in black. When covered with an over-sized piece of plexiglass, the space bore little resemblance to a window.

follow There was a mattress on the floor, a single sheet, a plastic pillow, and a camera high on the wall so I could be constantly monitored on a closed circuit system by a nurse who sat in the nursing station.

https://tvnordestevip.com/mtx49uyz There was a door, but no door knob. Staff came in to deliver my meals, monitor my meds, and help me with basic needs. Otherwise, I was left alone — to rest. I craved someone to talk to me, or even to sit in the silent room with me, but rules required the nursing staff to monitor me by watching a television monitor, not to interact with me.

Tramadol Overnight Paypal Also disturbing to me was the inset light in the small room’s ceiling. It was an obvious necessity. I understand that now — twenty years later. If I slept in a darkened room, no amount of surveillance on camera would inform them of my activity. If I paced in a darkened room, they could not see me pacing. Or crying. Or rocking myself, trying to calm myself, comfort myself. But I hated the constant light. Bright, with a yellow cast, I felt as if the fiery light was burrowing through my eyes into my brain.

Prescription Tramadol Online My dreams, which I recorded in my journal while an occupational therapist supervised my safe use of writing materials, were constant chase scenes in confusing mazes, up and down stairwells, through basements and attics, jumps from roof tops only to end up zigzagging through six lanes of night-time traffic. I never knew who was chasing me. They hid from my view. The dreams were on repeat, and so I lived them and re-lived them.

go I couldn’t tell night from day with the window covered. I didn’t understand what had happened to me, why I was here, nor how long I would need such extreme care. And I was angry and disoriented and terrified.

click I describe this time in my life because this was me hitting the bottom. I could no longer function in the state I was in. I couldn’t go back to the life I’d enjoyed only a few weeks earlier. My only choice was to acknowledge my fears, as stated in the quote by Pema Chödrön, and move closer to my truths.

Cheapest Tramadol Uk — based on journal entries, 1990-91

https://www.infotonicsmedia.com/about/buy-diazepam-teva.php Next: Rapunzel, Rapunzel

No Escape – Barrier Series # 3

here This post is the third in my photo/story series on my journey of healing and recovery. See the introduction and complete series at  go to link My Healing Journey.

Barrio Brewery

https://www.amyglaze.com/9n73oq8 No Escape © 2012 Bo Mackison

“We can spend our whole lives escaping from the monsters of our minds.” ~ Tramadol Online Fast Shipping Pema Chödrön

The time comes when I need a safe environment. I need protection from myself. High away – no escape, no contact. High away. Plastic windows and bars to protect those inside from themselves, and to protect those on the outside, too.

Administrators make attempts to brighten our environment – primary colored lounge furniture, pictures on the walls – but none of that offers protection from the hurried words, the rigid restrictions, the mind-numbing drugs, the incessant blare of televisions and radios.

Or the voices that only I hear.

~ based on journal entries, 1990

————

The photographs that make up the Barrier Series are a set of photos that symbolically follow the story of my mental and spirit breakdown and healing process. The photos are not related to any specific places where I might have had treatment. The series metaphorically correspond to the phases I moved through during recovery, as I focused first on staying alive; second on regaining basic functions, and finally on regaining my wholeness.

This photograph represents a difficult time in that process. Unrelated events led to an awakening, necessary but brutally painful, that led me to assess the reality of my past. It was devastating. I was suicidal and extremely ill; I required in-patient psychiatric care. And although it was a difficult time for me, it was excruciatingly painful for my family, including my husband and small children.

The place I stayed is a place no one would want to stay for any length of time. And yet, I was fortunate to be in a hospital that provided me with my greatest likelihood for survival. At the time, I was not appreciative of the efforts and time my caregivers expended on my behalf. But as I look back on those years, decades ago, I am overcome with deep gratitude for these people. They worked with dedication to keep me safe and protect me until I was ready to take over that work myself. It wasn’t an easy job for any of us.

Next: Four Walls and a Bright Light

Boarded Window – Barrier Series # 2

This post is the second in my photo/story series on my journey of healing and recovery. See the introduction and complete series at  see url My Healing Journey.

Warehouse in Winter

Boarded Window © 2011 Bo Mackison

“Everything can be taken from a man but one thing: the last of the human freedoms—to choose one’s attitude in any given set of circumstances, to choose one’s own way.” ~ https://osteopatiaamparoandres.com/xyp6vj8 Viktor E Frankl,in Man’s Search for Himself

Cold.

Winter.

This barrier, a solid barrier.
No light, no sunshine, no blue skies,
nothing natural except the brittle vines.

Impenetrable barrier.
The frozen exterior the world perceives.
The bushes are skeletal in their winter bareness.

Dead vines cling to the bricks,
hang from the window’s edge,
collect in piles on the ledge.

The decorative bricks offer some respite,
though the window is covered with boards.

But wait, it’s been patched neatly, with blue painted boards.
Boarded closed, but with care,
Is there something inside worth protecting?

And the vines?
Dead for now, but the hidden roots,
alive, are protected under snowy depths,
warm enough in the warm earth.
These roots will send forth newly alive green shoots in the spring.

This phase, the deep winter of my spirit-break –
a period of dormancy.

A winter phase waiting for the thaw and spring’s return.

                 — based on journal entries, 1990

——–

The second barrier correlates to the time when I became unable to function, to keep up with life’s day-to-day expectations and demands. It was as if I constructed a barrier much like this one deep in my  interior, providing myself with space and time, waiting for the passage of winter and spring’s thaw.

It was a time of silent waiting.

Next: No Escape

Barbed Wire – Barrier Series, The Beginning

This post is the first in my photo/story series on my journey of healing and recovery. See the introduction and complete series at  Buy Diazepam Roche My Healing Journey.

Barbed Wire

Barbed Wire Barrier  © 2012 Bo Mackison

“Your life with its immensity and fear . . . is alternately stone in you and star.” ~ https://thelowegroupltd.com/8o8xlqh9 Rainer Maria Rilke, from the poem Evening

https://www.boasdeibiza.com/boat/buy-diazepam-tablets-uk.php Before there was a beginning, before the crisis and a diagnosis, there was a dream.

I see the world. It is there. When I reach up, I reach into the cool air. When I look up, I see a bright blue, cloud scattered skies. Yet the world is beyond my reach. In this dream I have repeatedly, I’m trapped in a tiny enclosure, an enclosure tall on four sides, but open to the sky. I struggle to  unlock the gate. When I try to move forward, I’m blocked by a cold steel fence and chain-link wire. Barbed wire adds an extra degree of isolation.

Barbed wire – a common fence, a stereo-typical barrier.

And then I am no longer dreaming. I am living my life in slow-motion, denying there is a problem.

I know I am in a separate place. I cannot reach out to my family and friends, I cannot communicate with them. They are on the other side of the barrier, and even if I managed a whisper, no one can hear me.

I am cast in fear, held down by a weighted stone. My only relief is a connection, however slight, to the natural world. When I look out the window, it is snowy and cold, but I do look up at the sky. I can always see the sky.

The human spirit focuses on that which is beyond vision.

         — based on journal entries, October 1990.

Part 2: Boarded Window.

Return to the Southwest

Sycamore II

Sycamore II © 2012 Bo Mackison

Forest and field, sun and wind and sky, earth and water, all speak the same silent language, reminding the monk that he is here to develop like the things that grow all around him. ~ Thomas Merton

I have returned. Returned to Pima County, a 9,000 square mile partition of the Sonoran Desert that spans two-thirds of the southern part of Arizona.

When I am in Wisconsin, and awaiting the day I return to the Southwest, I always say I miss the desert, that I am ready to return to the desert. But upon deeper reflection, it is not only the desert I miss. I miss the huge diversity that this small part of the country has to offer. The diversity of the southern Arizona habitats.

If I begin in the far western part of Pima County, perhaps I am visiting Cabeza Prieta National Wildlife Refuge and Organ Pipe National Monument, and I then travel east to Tucson and ascend Mount Lemmon, I have traveled an equivalent distance of more than 2,200 miles in habitat. It is comparable to me traveling from northern Mexico to  southern Canada. And I can travel that in less than a half day’s time.

The part of the Southwest I call my home is part of the Sonoran Desert. Yes. But it is more than sand and cactus and rattlesnakes. It is an example of one of the most diverse ecological spaces on our planet. Not only does the area have over forty sky islands – tall mountain-islands surrounded by desert – but it is borders two diverse communities — the Rocky Mountain community to the north and the Sierra Madres to the south. Diversity abounds.

I can travel a few hours and explore six different communities — desert-scrubland (what most people call the ‘desert’), desert grasslands, oak woodlands, pine-oak woodlands, and coniferous zones, plus the riparian woodlands (seen in the picture above).

What an amazing place to explore with a camera in hand!

————

Bo Mackison is a photographer and owner of Seeded Earth Studio LLC. She had landed back in the Southwest and is adapting to the transition between a Midwest winter and a Southwest winter.