boe: an understanding of mental illness

Boe: An understanding of mental illness.

January 1998

Introduction

This is a story about schizophrenia as told through the experiences of a boy named Boe. Boe is in his mid-twenties, with a university education and a normal healthy upbringing. He has never held a job for more than four months and not once has he ever been sacked, his way was more subtle since nepotism was the key to his success. He is supported by his father, who is a gambler.
There are many places to begin a story, if his story has a beginning, so lets begin at the end, the end of his life as a normal boy. I won’t go into details, suffice to say he walked, meaning this was the last time he would put on a suit to go into an office. So much for education, but for Boe this was his chance, his golden opportunity to make the difference, stand out from the crowd and be noticed. No longer would he have to put on the pretence that Joe Public expected, that which he was not a party to, neither in mind nor in spirit. Boe was different, he suffered from schizophrenia.
Many people are deluded; some believe that life itself is one great illusion, where the only truth is death. Heaven awaits those who are faithful, and hell is the fate of those non-believers who reject the prophet’s teachings. But what illusions, if that is what they are, have we to believe in. What does faith teach us about life…? On a positive note we have love and compassion, those virtues, which create harmony and understanding in our lives; then there is fear. In no way am I suggesting that fear is the guiding light, or that our actions are dependant on this emotion, however, for someone suffering from schizophrenia, fear is the first word in the bible.


Part 1: The End of Time

‘Every journey begins with one small step…’ and for Boe, this meant walking from the high-rise offices of Central District, out onto the street he knew so well. The noise of car engines, probably Mercedes and BMW’s, made a stark contrast to the hum of computer terminals and photocopying machines, and he was pleased. The burden of education had been lifted and he was a free man once more, free to enjoy the neon and the halogen, free to absorb it, free to consume it, and be consumed by it. No more night, no more day… no success, no failure. He had embarked on an epic journey, and a mission, which would reveal to him the true nature of his mind.

…And as he turned the corner into mid-levels he experienced his first charge, like the neon of the city streets he became connected, a thousand volts of electricity energized his every atom and he began to see…

The ride home was the usual stop-start which evening rush hour always promised. He stared at the neon and compared it to circuit boards and electrical components, as if he were information travelling through semi-conductors, resistors and capacitors of a device, which was the living and breathing embodiment of Gaia, or a living system of sorts. Central District had an essence and a beauty, which Boe admired, not for all the money and power which this place represents, but because spiritually, this is where he lived.
His father was not home, so Boe turned the tv on and absorbed himself in the usual programs. He had not eaten all day, so he turned on the gas and began to cook himself noodles. There were voices, which Boe couldn’t quite make out, and people were walking about, many had just come back from a busy day at the office and were enjoying their evening meals in front of the tv. After eating Boe went to his room and stood out on the balcony, overlooking the village.
In contrast to the city, village life was peaceful; occasionally a car would drive past on the main road disturbing the ambience of what was typically a country park. Leaving a light on, Boe fell asleep.

Part 2: Too much of a good thing

Dawn and the beginning of a new day, new opportunities await. Boe rises with the sun and returns to the balcony. A mist cloaks the sleeping village and bird songs fill the air. There is a sense of perfection at times like these, knowledge and wisdom all rolled into one, and for an eternity. Ma On Shan stands majestic in the distance, a medium sized mountain half way between here and Kowloon.

…you know what it looks like, it looks like someone lying on its back because look, there’s its head, nose…see. Yeah, but look…that’s a pyramid, right.

Boe lights a cigarette and lies back on his bed. It’s too early to awake. He can hear his father stirring, walking about the house. The tv comes on and is immediately switched off, steps can be heard, a door shuts. His father is usually up and out of the house before Boe, he returns in the early hours and can be gone for days.
Late afternoon and Boe is woken by a phone call. Its Shelley, she gets off work in an hour and a half and would like to meet up in Central. “OK… give me an hour.” Shelley and Boe are lovers, convenience is their calling card as Shelley is a married woman. For Boe this worked because there was no regret, and regret was the last emotion he wanted in his relationships. It worked for a time, however, doubts existed and the finishing line was in sight. Meeting up was a regular occurrence, it gave Boe the excuse to be in Central. They’d spent the whole summer courting, it felt natural and they definitely loved each other.

Hey John…mine’s a coffee, two sugars. Gar-fair…right you are chief. Er…what’s going on today boe. Just heading to central, see a man about a dog. Oh…when you get back? Don’t know, late…what you doing here? Just making coffee…gar-fair, right. Get back to where you once belong…

The pager goes off, Shelley…where are you? No mobile, no way. His father should definitely buy him one, save Boe the trouble. Phones are everywhere in Hong Kong, and they’re free so everyone lets anyone use the phone. And it works, but it still means you have to run like a chicken to find one! Boe was late, Shelley won’t be happy, she insists on punctuality, she doesn’t realize what a whiz young Boe is at being on time and beating the traffic; rush hour from dawn till dusk, what can you do? Shelley wouldn’t allow it, but she’s the one with the mobile, and Boe just runs. She’d been responsible for Boe’s curriculum vitae, and got him employed, bought him a suit and paid for his food; she was counting on Boe to perform. No job meant no Shelley, and soon no way ‘cos he couldn’t support himself. His bubble had burst and he had no idea.
I just heard, you gave up your job, why? Boe had no answer, hung his head in defeat. That’s the fourth job Boe, what are you doing Boe? He lit a cigarette, and puffed silently. They sat in a restaurant and forgot about it. They were a beautiful couple, she didn’t look her age and Boe just looked rough, unpolished, like he’d not been brought up properly, and while the other boys drank their milk, Boe flew around the playground as if an aeroplane. Their meals together were sacred, each time they met and ate, forgiveness was served, like communion, the body of Christ and the blood of Christ. Call me when you get home…bye! She always smiled when she said that, Boe would also smile but with sadness, he was afraid that he would miss her…he always did. The ferryboat pulled away, tugging heartstrings with it, and no less his heart, at least that’s the way Boe felt.
It was dark, not late. He saw the Star ferry, Kowloon was calling, he obeyed.
This was not an obsession but he did find time for just walking, idle strolling, no particular place to go, and what with all the neon and cars, and people, you couldn’t miss the people, what better way to fill time than the streets of Kowloon. Shops, bars, Temple Street, nightlife… if that’s where you want to go, I’m ok with that. Boe loved the ferry, for all its tourist value it was still the best way to leave Central.

His name is Chow Yung Fat and he is one of Hong Kong’s most famous actors, he is now doing adverts for the Hong Kong Tourist Association as well as Hollywood…what a hero and the toothpick, man, and he’s always smoking. With a gun in his hand and a skip in his step he shoots his way from our screens on to the streets of Kowloon, destination Temple Street, target, coffee…gar-fair.

Stepping off the bus, with a smile, Boe walked home. His father was home. It was late, wash and call Shelley. She would be asleep but he would call, he always did.

Part 3: A death in the family

What is schizophrenia? What are its causes and how does it manifest itself in a persons actions. Drug abuse, a death in the family, these are causes; a sufferer usually becomes withdraw, psychotic episodes begin and given the right circumstances, the psychosis can blossom into full blown delusion and paranoia. Medication can stabilise the condition, but a sufferer will never be freed from the knowledge that mentally, one is handicapped. The experience can destroy a weaker man, leaving behind pieces of a puzzle to be put back into order.

There was a program on tv, but it was not terrestrial, no listings could be found for what he was watching. The face looked familiar, but could not be placed.
Looking in a mirror he saw a reflection of fate. This was his second charge. He could feel the electricity flowing through his head and shoulders, movement became difficult, like every muscle had been tensed, and the eyes, on inspection, had suddenly evolved dark rings.

Boe turned on the computer, sat half-lotus and wrote,’ CIA, IRA, Georgy Pei… what a combination, like the Dalai Lama, The President of the United States and the Ayatollah all travelling in a plane together. And me being scanned at thirty-seven thousand feet.’
Some things stand out in ones mind like the time boe and his father attended a funeral of sorts for boe’s mother, (his father’s wife.) The funneral was held in china and was attended by boe, his father, his father’s girlfriend and a bunch of dancing and singing gypsies. A foreign affair even for Boe’s standards, his father would never dissapoint. The precesion began at midnight and continued into the early hours. There was much theatre and burning of effigies, chickens tied by their legs onto bamboo poles, shaken in a proud manner, follow-the-leader and we all went round again, all this and on the grounds of a disgarded temple. He would never to this day forget what a bad trip this was.

She’s a whore… no way man, what… she’s a whore… this can’t be happening man, i’ve got to wake up man, please god take me out of here…@@#~’?]”;;::@

(Mustn’t dwell at times like these, not good for the health.) It ended, but god knows when and how.

BANG! Boe’s been shot…in the head!

He awoke, he was still alive. He could see the presence of his dead mother lying on his bed, as if invisible and super imposed on boe’s body. A young child cried “Gor-gor!”, in cantonese that means ‘brother’. He lay motionless, frozen by the sound of a loud ringing; tinitus is the clinical term used to describe someone who hears ringing, the sound produced by the inner ear.
He sat down and wrote, ‘The good man is a muslim.’ That’s what he believes, of all the faiths, only Islam has the conviction of its actions. Whether in prayer, or in speech, truth and honesty, wisdom and light. He continued, ‘ Their destination was unknown, only that this would be a crisis of immesurable importance.’ A buddhist, a polititian, a muslim, and boe. Like a mah-jong match made up by his father, played in heaven and for the future of humanity, no less. Each represents an aspect of our daily lives and to many is the living embodiment of god as a representative of their people. ‘Their mission, to save planet earth.’

Part 4: War Games

Boe’s condition was worsening, his grip on reality was loosening, and he could no longer differentiate between fact and fiction. Fact, he had lost his job, his girlfriend and soon would have to leave his paradise. Fiction, he was wired up to the CIA because of a growing crisis developing between the US and Islamic nations. He would have to return to the UK and sort it all out. He would have to familiarise himself with Islam, find out which nations posed a threat and which organisations were active, he would then have to assess the risk and present his case to the president.
He had a lead, Osama Bin Laden, the mastermind behind the attempted bombing of the twin towers. They had jailed someone for the atrocity, Ramsay Youssef, a muslim, however, Bin Laden was still at large, hiding out in Afganistan, protected by the Taliban. Bin Laden came across as a peaceful man, no less a holy man, his prophetic message to muslims which read, ‘Kill all americans…’ was a wake up call for the west, never before, not even during the cold war, had there been such hatred towards the west and ultimately the United States. The tolerance of Islam had given way to a new teaching, that of international terrorism, suicide bombings and martyrdom.
Clinton was beening impeached for inappropriate relations with Monica Lewinsky, the trial was televised. As he watched the president on tv, he thought of his own infidelity, the resemblance was uncanny. Even the greatest leaders have their day, is this what Clinton will be remembered for, fooling around with the office aid, how ironic, he thought. His relationship with Shelley was over, no one batted an eyelid. He returned to the UK with his father, seeking refuge above his brother’s shop. His father didn’t stay, he returned as soon as Boe got settled.
If HK was paradise, the UK would be purgatory, like Dante’s Inferno and the Devine Comedy. This place was also special, it had been a second home to Boe when he finished university, he lived there on the dole and practised meditation. Once the table top of the world, and an island paradise, now the headquarters of a secret organisation which plotted against terrorism and all its forms. Manchester had been bombed by the IRA three years ealier, and their mainland campaign continued. The atrocities of Omagh made headline news on his return.

Monitors were everywhere, constant footage of Hezbollah and Mujahdeen marching through the streets in protest against the west and America. Yasser Arafat and the Israeli prime minister at loggerheads over the recent fighting in the occupied territories.

The physical stresses caused by other peoples’ sufferings were crippling Boe. He had to find a solution. The bombing of Palestinian territories played havoc with Boe’s wire, he would find himself out on the streets fleeing mortar fire and dodging sniper’s bullets; he was there and nowhere. He would rest during the day, at night, he would absorb himself in the news, from midnight till midday he would go though the developments with a fine tooth comb and ask himself, when, where and how. BBC News 24 provided the footage and Boe would be taken on a merry-go-round ride through death and destruction, deceit and dishonesty. If the world couldn’t sort out its problems, what chance did Boe have. He believed a solution could be found, that all nations and religions could live in harmony, in the 21st century, but he didn’t believe he had any say in the matter.
The inauguration of the President of America, and George W Bush beats Al Gore in the race for the White House, and after much legal wrangling a republican becomes head of the most powerful nation in the world. Boe opens another bottle of wine. Celebrations don’t come often for schizophrenics, but this was reason to celebrate. His submission was a weak one, however, he believed his work was invaluable in understanding the Islamic problem. His solution involved tolerance and compassion, understanding and respect, qualities fit for a president and essential for the survival of mankind. In truth he knew there were no solutions, not for the CIA or the President. Islam was not the problem, the problem lies within the heart of american society, power multiplied by paranoia, leading to fear and anger. Without a solution we would return to cold war status and be forever watching our backs. With this understanding his team would back off and give Boe a chance to breathe again. ‘This is your man, like his father before him, He will find a solution to your prob lems, whether we end up going to war or not, He will ensure the safety of our homes and our people.’ Spoken in vain and without an audience, Boe allowed the alcohol to take its effect.
When the events of 911 occurred, boe was volunteering for the Red Cross. He had seeked help for his delusions and was now on medication. He watched the events unfold on tv, pictures of a plane crashing into the twin towers, believed to be an act of terrorism, leaving carnage and horror in its wake. Like an old friend from the past had come to visit him, he was not surprised, only it left him feeling as if he was still in a delusion. As a second plane came crahing down into the other tower, it dawned on him that fiction becomes fact and that his illness had a meaning. The Pentagon was also hit, that aspect of power which was responsible for preventing such an attack. The medicaton rationalised his thoughts and he began to feel human again.
The illusion had finally died and reality became evident. It had been a struggle but boe had made it, he had made it back to reality, no more delusions, just the earth beneath his feet. In his mind fiction had given way to fact and he could believe what he was seeing again. Boe never really believed the fiction of his delusion, he knew it wasn’t real, it was just temptation for a deluded mind, the secrecy and diplomacy, the spies and the lies, the power and the corruption, all these and the knowledge that it was all for the good of mankind. Still, he was left in limbo, without an occupation. Reality was harsh, he was having to make constant adjustments so as not to fall into relapse, the news didn’t help, the threats were real and now a search for the culprit had begun, Bin Laden made the CIA’s most wanted list and was by now a household name. Boe ignored the media assassination, he held the highest regards for the mastermind of 911 for he had achieved the impossible, and now held the US to ransom.

Part 5: The cessation of suffering

Isn’t it ironic how an act of such immeasurable destruction can bring about the cessation of one’s suffering. The lords of karma have truly gone to work with this one thought Boe, he smiled again, relax and enjoy the ride, it’s downhill all the way now. He had been prescribed 20mg of Olanzapine, an antipsychotic taken to help stabilise the positive (and negative) aspects of his illness, yes, there is a positive side to schizophrenia, voices can be comforting and the experience of psychotic episodes can become quite spiritual. The professionals were pleased with his progress and Boe found comfort in the knowledge that his condition was mild, although he couldn’t believe it to be any worse, I suppose it’s all to do with how believable the delusions become.



Reprise: The future of terrorism

Boe gets a job in a takeaway in Warrington UK, the scene of destruction many years previous. The IRA campaign has now ceased but not before strategic attacks in and around London, the targets being the BBC, MI6 and a post office in hendon.
The Bush administration calls for all out war against the perpetrators of 911 and the focus moves to Afghanistan and the hunt for Bin Laden, and his army of mujahdeen, or holy warriors, trained in terrorist camps in the afghan mountains. Bin Laden had led the jihad against the soviets in the eighties, and succeeded in stopping the soviet advance into Afghanistan and the Middle-East, eventually bringing about the downfall of soviet-style communism. Supported by the CIA and ISI, with funding from the Saudis, the mujahdeen fought off the world’s second army and made the difference which led to the end of the cold war.
On return to Saudi, Bin Laden became dissolusioned with life in Saudi; it was not acceptable to his new (Islamic) way of thinking. Western (American) interests in Saudi had turned the holy lands into a haven for infidels and non-muslims, basking in the rays off a lucretive oil trade, monopolised by the House of Saud. The invasion of Kuwait by Saddam’s Iraq focused attention on the foreign policies of nations in that region, and their standing with the US. It was due directly to the lack of policy in that region which led to the deployement of the US military, the world’s premier army. This action infused Bin Laden, he had offered the services of his victorious mujahdeen and was turned down point blank. Bin Laden moved his operation to muslim-friendly Sudan. The bombing of two US embassies in Africa and the attack on the USS Cole in the Yemen, killing many and causing untold injury and destruction, is the precurser to Bin Laden’s greater demands, that of jihad against the infidel, against the US.