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Explorations into art, humanity, and personal development, by musician, ideasmith, creative adventurer, and social entrepreneur, Adam Farouk.

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Permission Granted

1/28/2014

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Dear friend,

Thank you for your words of support. I have to admit it has been very difficult. The rapid-cycling in and out of depression has taken a toll on all of us; we are tired and emotionally very drained. But we are making it happen. And my commitment has not changed. Still it is my mission to bring as much light into the world as I possibly can, and I cannot stop, I will not stop, merely because of this. I am doubling down, as it were. Only now, perhaps, might I finally be willing to allow the fullness of my Being to be part of this process: not just the positive intentions and creative breakthroughs, but the shadow moments, the angry moments, the pain and the darkness as well. And maybe there is some benefit in that, maybe not. But it seems to be where I am being asked to go. 

With regards to the condition, yes, there is a little part of me that feels that maybe I allowed myself to be broken. It's funny that, even in this circumstance, I put it on myself to shoulder the "blame". This I believe to be a mental habit that is very destructive and one I wish to release. I think I developed this mental habit at a young age both so as to protect the image I had in my head of my parents, and also in a way to protect myself from really dealing with some of the difficult things that I experienced. I will need to learn to accept and love myself. It will take time and forgiveness to do so. Hence the need for some time and space to pray and heal and cry and do whatever I need to do to make this transition from the me I was to the me I am.

There is a book called "I Am a Loveable Me". It is a children's book that I came across sitting, of all places, in a doctor's waiting room. I find that whenever I read the title, to those words there is a strong emotion reaction, and I cry a little. I don't know exactly why, though I suppose maybe it's not much of a stretch to figure out. There is a kind of mystery I experience, perhaps you do too, about what it means to understand oneself as loveable. I hope to unravel it one day, to understand what it means to feel this, to be sure of it, deep inside. In any case, it seems a good book for helping teaching kids positive affirmations. I would recommend it, for the adorable pictures alone, to anyone who has children, or, for that matter, anyone who has ever been a child, which is everyone, so, I suppose, well... buy the damned book! :) 

You mentioned family. I have recently come to know of the word "ubuntu", which roughly translated means "humanity towards others". I wish to participate in the creation of a new concept of family, of community, one liberated from manipulations and obligations and other such contrivances, and one instead based upon a type of open-hearted and empowered love and support that I see so clearly in my mind's eye, and that I believe you see as well. That is maybe why in the past you and I have always been a bit weird, a bit off-kilter, a bit different from the mainstream. I had a dream a week ago where I was a little kid again, learning to ride a bike, terrified, and all my childhood TV-heroes--Phineas Bogg, MacGyver, you know the crew--were cheering me on, helping me to keep steady and stay on my path. You’re probably one of the few people who will get how fucking cool that is. And maybe one day the stars will collide and we’ll work together to bring awesome stories to life, like the ones we watched as kids that brought us inspiration to change and make something new, the way we have, out of our lives.  

I'm continuing to work on this mission even through all this challenge. I'm not going to lie: it's often pretty rough. I really don't like the person I am right now. The violent and painful imagery in my mind is quite disturbing, and the some of the worse parts are the days I cannot control it and I end up banging my fists against the walls, or smashing plates and stuff. Other days, like yesterday, I stay up late, and cry through the night, for no reason I can understand. It's a long journey I think. This week I have an appointment to get some scripts, probably for some form of lithium. I'm scared as hell. I have nightmares that it will shut down my creativity, take away what is my essential self, perhaps leave me stable, but also lobotomized and dull. E has stated her commitment to making sure that doesn't happen, which gives me some relief.

Whatever the weather, the mission does not stop. I cannot forgo this. I cannot and will not stop, so long as I have breath in my lungs and there is light to be brought into the world. 

With much gratitude for your love and support.

-AF    
(Written in early January, 2014)

.... the me i may become....
source: theatlantic.com Photographed by Colleen Pinski of Peyton, Colorado, for the the Natural World category. (© Smithsonian.com)
... for the me i might become ....
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New Ere it Becomes Habit...

1/27/2014

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What the fuck am I here for?

There. I said it. I’m done trying to be Mr. Happy-Solution-Creative all the time. I Am Me. I am broken, washed-up, frightened, addicted, potty-mouthed, perverted, Star-Trek-Voyager-liking, bi-polar Me. I’ve started writing this “first blog of the year” seven times now, in the time it’s taken most people to post a dozen pictures of meals they’ve eaten, or else make pithy comments about child-rearing, or dog/cat owning, or tennis, or flan, or whatever, on facebook or twitter or twitface or whatever the latest social media craze is.

And that’s fine. But I realize I’ve been trying to hold up this mantle, on this site, on my social media presence, just as a creative professional as a whole, of being some sort of constant light-being, always showing the positive, bringing in the joy, even if I was feeling completely fucked up and destitute inside and wishing not just I but all of humanity would blow up and die. It’s a little identity I like to call "ever-adaptable-Adam", a person I invented when I was probably no older than six, when it became clear to me that the only way I could survive was to try and please everyone else.

And it worked like a dream for a while, in that I didn’t die (more on racism and school bullying later). Then as the years went on I noticed that no matter how hard I tried to please everyone, people would still get offended, still get angry at my actions, still have their little diva fits or temper tantrums when I didn’t meet their exact needs. And I would either myself get sucked into this vortex, or else I would swallow any feelings I had towards them, not wanting to hurt anyone, trying to please everyone, and in fact I would try harder to please them more. And that brings me to where I find myself now, an underappreciated wannabe lightworker with mental problems.

Yeah, so you may have noticed the "bi-polar" bit up top. I got my diagnosis a week ago. I took forever to get diagnosed, despite years of showing clear, clear, symptoms of both mania and depression, because, frankly, I knew that a diagnosis would come with the suggestion (read: understanding) that I take medication. I am now taking medication. It is a choice, and it is helpful. I was rapid-cycling last year at an accelerating rate--by the end of the year it was almost every forty-eight hours--and to relieve not only myself, but my wife and family, from the pressure of constantly having to deal with major bi-polar symptoms (you can look them up; I present in a “mixed-state” for the most part) is something for which I am grateful.

But I fucking hate the fact that I am on meds. For the past fifteen years I have been studiously crafting a regimen of self-care that involves diet, exercise, yoga, meditation, prayer, self-examination, and all sorts of what might be seen as hippy-dippy stuff, none of which I can ever truly knock because it has all basically helped me not completely fall off the rails at every moment, because every moment for as long as I can remember, I have had deep depression and/or mania.

The point is that I am a firm believer in natural methods, and health viewed as a holistic practice. If I just stayed in balance, I believed I could... well, stay in balance. The fact that I am now popping a pill twice a day to alter my brain chemistry, even with all the positive effects, again, for which I am grateful, eats at my soul and makes me feel like I’ve failed, and moreover that I’m somehow colluding with the enemy. Probably sounds stupid. But it’s where I am. And fuck off if I’m expected to lie about that any more.

Do I sound angry? Yeah. You bet I do. I am angry. I am angry because, and this might offend you, but it’s because I’ve put you first all these years. It’s been my choice so to do, and I accept that. But I ain’t doing it that way any more. I’m saying yes to me. And that might mean I say no to you. I don’t know if anyone out there can understand that. We are still so expected to fulfil the needs and expectations of others, rather than giving to ourselves and being who the fuck we are.

Self-love has to, has to, has to, be the fundamental driving force of the world I live in and that I create. I’m starting to see this. And sometimes to get to that takes anger. And, yes, I’ll say it again, I’m angry, because I have allowed myself to be a doormat for others to feel validated upon for pretty much my entire life. And for all I know that’s the reason why I--not you--am popping pills now. I have subsconded (not a word but should be) my happiness time and again to keep others safe, I have hidden the truth I experience to keep others comfortable. That ends now. And anyone who can’t get behind that, well, we’re not going to have a lot to talk about. 


I’m on a mission, and at this point you all damned well know it. You want to help? Then help. You know my number. Call it. Otherwise, I’ve got work to do. And that’s fine. Go love yourself, and go and be who it is you are. And I’m going to do the same. And together we might create an awesome world where everyone actually loves themselves. That’s a difference I’m willing to give my life to try and make. So I’ll be around, popping pills, doing whatever it is I have to do to stay on mission. Just don’t expect smiley happy people all the time anymore.

Okay, just this once...


Picture
source: www.dreamstime.com
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    at a glance

    Adam Farouk (born April 6, 1978) is a Malaysian musician, producer, writer, and entrepreneur, currently based in the United States. He is known for his integrative approach to the creative arts, and frequently infuses his works with unlikely combinations of style, influence, and genre.

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