I Am Who I Am….Or Am I? – By Nigel Daniel

Did you know, art, was amongst the first forms of communication between human kind. You did, Oh, well that is okay then. Art for me, my art, is very much what others see in it, not what I say it is.

Anyway, my name is Adrian Scanlon aka NigelDaniel. NigelDaniel is my handle for art and photography. Daniel was, past tense, my second oldest brother. Nigel the youngest. Both, along with my parents have now moved over to the other side.

Daniel, passed away in 1991. My father two years later, Nigel in 2003 an then my ever stoical mother in 2009. Unfortunate circumstances all round.

Five years ago, in a January, while in a psychiatric ward, a shrink asked me…”Why do I drink.” At the time I had no idea why. I just did. What answer I gave, honestly, I cannot recall.

When questions come my way, I do try to answer them. Sometimes my mind, more my brain, goes into curiosity mode. In other words, “I do think, I think too much.”

Four weeks, that was the time spent in the psych ward. Am I allowed to say, it was something of a holiday for me? Vacations…my family never did that kind of thing. My Mom did try with days out to the city. Alas, my father never cared for that type of thing.

The first few days were odd. There was, and still is, a tendency for me to keep to myself. Engaging with others there was not my style. I hardly ever do anyway. Put it like this, I would pass a door five times before going in, or knocking. I would turn up an hour early for appointments, knowing I’d be like that.

While in the ward, I would walk about, aimlessly. Looking out the window, thinking the thoughts of a thousand words. Or just….lay in bed.

How I came to be there. Well, two kindly Garda Siochana [police] members involved themselves. Who out of concern for my wellbeing, made many a call, before driving me there. I am sure it was 4am when that happened.

My mind, I do say, tends to wander about unaccompanied by an adult. This, resulting in rather a lot of hazardous thoughts. The way my mind works, or so it has been suggested to me, may be down to Asperger’s. There is also the unhelpful mix of a mood disorder. I will not get into the anti-psychotic drugs that were given to me. Except to say, I do not use them anymore.

Education….now that was something I found tricky. I did not do terribly well, dropping out at 16. Did I tell you my ears run on batteries? No? Well I have now. That issue gave me no end of problems. Been short sighted did not help either. That issue came up when I did my medical for a Drivers License.

So now, I am rather, what can be called, a bohemian outsider. Mostly self-educated. Now before it all becomes a bit too pondersome or somber, might I add, that I do have a sence of humor. Although it goes AWOL at times. Typical eh.

The Psychiatric Doctors, all of them, did their best. Sometimes they push buttons and sometimes tic the paper work. They do what they can. Nonetheless, it is I alone, who is responsible for my wellbeing. I can be happy, if I choose. I can be sad, if I like. I can be healthy if I work for it, and ill, if I neglect my good self. No shrink or therapist can be expected to make me happy and abundant in life. Only one alone can take that path, and that is the path I did take.

When taxed, pardon my oft odd use of words, I use single point tapping. E.F.T. Some of you will know about it, more will not. Some off you will look it up with interest, more will not.

One ought not be quick to dismiss the ability for the human heart to see what the eyes will not see. I am now open to all, what is proven and unproven. All is worth a thought to my mind.

Before I go on here, risking going into some gonzo writing style, I had better take a break. The pencil I am using to do this draft needs a sharping. Besides, I am sure that Godzilla, the cat from next door, is at the window. She pops around to see me every so often.

God speed to all.

ND