Monday, 25 April 2016


The days are approaching and parents get older, it changes everything, is said to enter the age of ay, that is, something that always hurts. pain appears in the most unexpected moment, you have to constantly remind them all and be talking without disturbing because they get angry easily, must be encouraged very difficult thing.
Some of the things that they have to do is clip their toenails with great care not to cut off the skin, it is a very sensitive part also remind you that medication is taken, help to dress, make chores like cleaning the house, washing and hanging clothes, pick up the laundry when dry, fold participate in making food, taking them to the doctor and be aware that the appointment does not pass, encouraging them to go walk and above all listen.
The time I spend with my older are most rewarding part especially with my mother for me is always admonishing and counting very entertaining things and anger when I say something that does not like or does not sit well I love it seems a little girl to which detracts a sweet, but when I realized that it hurts something that is insufferable. My father is very different as always, no matter how hard me, everything I do wrong what makes this less time with. With I have to spend less time remembering things as he remembers is much more independent and as a result have more time.


Thursday, 21 April 2016


 If the art of living together is difficult for a healthy person, when there is a sickness in the family that is uphill. Misunderstandings can arise at any time, perhaps because they expect us to act with the same pace as them or we dialogue on topics that interest them. The truth is that our brains work differently and our thoughts tend to be kilometers of our environment.
Personally I am speaking little or if you want introverted, the fact is that usually change fast issue and talks about everyday problems I find difficult to cope with, because they add stress to my anxiety. Paying attention for some time is difficult, the mind seems to wander without asking permission and only compass that there is to correct this seems to be a repetition of slogans and patience to try to sustain the interest. When visitors come I salute and participated in the talks for a short time but invariably after seeking solitude and I feel with my thoughts in a place nearby, as taking energy to re-join the group. This attitude is not impolite but a simple mental respite, fortunately understand because they know of my illness. Maybe sometimes I saturating conversations because I feel I have nothing to contribute and hence the silences or parsimony of words. The simple act of paying attention for some time is difficult, it is to do a task or follow instructions.
As for the routine treatment house help as I can but at a slower pace, unless you have an attack of hyperactivity motivated by an unexpected joy that is a matter of necessity. Sometimes I feel that others walk super fast and I react in slow motion, but do, I do everything that is within my reach.
It becomes problematic live with us also by frequent changes of mind that we suffer. We went from sadness to joy almost a snap or what is the same, because we receive a word of encouragement or reproach.
Also plays against the fear of being alone, those around us do not understand us or get tired of having a schizophrenic charge: we are like big kids who can not defend themselves on their own in many areas. This emotional dependence as economic puts us at a distinct disadvantage against our fellow man.
 Anyway the sense of worthlessness sharpens unable to contribute financially to the costs and it becomes difficult to feel good in these circumstances. The truth is that no one chooses ill and we and our family have to know the symptoms to cope in the best way possible coexistence.


Monday, 18 April 2016


One of the questions that have become philosophers and ordinary people throughout history is: What are the motors that move the world? I have concluded after much thought and read and view data over time that fundamental engines are love and money.
Love is manifested in many ways. It is a couple that love is one of the most beautiful. One can get to give your life for your partner. And ultimately both members of the couple can give their lives in defense of love, like Romeo and Juliet. There is also the parent-child love, the love of a father to his son and I get as an example. I would be able to give my life for my son. If you need my heart or liver or other vital organ I would donate with ease. I love him and is an intense love that is very difficult to explain.
It is also love pets. Some treat them as if they were people, put them in winter coats, brush their teeth, take care of them in every way even taking them to the vet. It is a detached and very beautiful love. It is also a vocation to love, as I do with literature. I write since I was seven years. And I've written endlessly to 52 I have, always combining it with other things he was doing as study, work, etc ... I've given up a lot for literature and I am proud of the work done.
There are more great loves that affect many people as is the case of Martin Luther King and his love for equality between blacks and whites. in the United States. It took to give his life for that love. And there is the Mahatma Gandhi and his love for India and its policy of non-violence with which gained independence from the British after a long fight. But I also had to give their lives for this effort. And there is the example of Mother Teresa of Calcutta and the immense love he felt for others, especially the poor. Slowly gave his life for them and renounced all worldly pleasures.
And there is the issue of money, which are always in conflict Macroeconomics and Microeconomics.
The first attempts to explain how it is that in times of crisis like we live CaixaBank the last year has grown 164%. And it must also explain how you may have more than 100,000 families with all members unemployed only in Andalusia without law and social benefit to some. And Microeconomics should explain how it may have 8 million poor and 8 million tons of food is thrown away and people eat directly from the container. Microeconomics should explain the use of the euro by normal people, they charge a non-contributory pension or who no joke come to collect 1,000 euros per month. They are not mileuristas. Is the new social class that is emerging, the precarious: people who have enough to live and can not afford any luxury, even the small luxury of going to the cinema to watch a movie. Misery is taking over society and grows brutal toward politicians and bankers who are the ones who caused this situation hate.
I have spoken for the first time of hatred. There is a special grudge against politicians and bankers. But hatred is a small scale in the world of the couple. It has always been said that love to hate is one step. I felt that hatred when my ex-wife left me being me at the worst time of my illness and my father just died. But I wanted to take the positive consequences of hatred and what I did was reverse the energy of hate in love energy thinking about my two year old son. He did not want the divorce will affect you physically and mentally and I gave myself to him completely, partially Literature away. But I also invested part of the energy of hatred in literary creation. I wrote a book called marrows odiantes, provisionally moment. When I write a book I always put first the title and I build the book around that title. Then when I finish writing the book I see if the title serves or change. This title I have to change because not convince me at all. The book begins: I hate is the word I most explodes in my gut wounds. Brutal desire to overthrow, destroy, kill. Judgment against the world that oppresses me against the wall imprisoning my mood purulent papules. It is very strong and reflects very clearly the pain he had caused me neglect.
The book is very extensive: over 5000 verses. I will surely publish it in two parts. I normally write books love me noticed strange writing a book about hate, but what I felt and a writer has to be true to your emotions and feelings.
 It has happened with other women I ever really loved. I guess otherwise think of that when I have been the one who has abandoned a woman, but I've never been hated by anyone. What you need to do is have a very large self-hatred that leads not only to self-esteem. Turn hate into love yourself and love for the person himself to whom we hate. For example I congratulated on his 66th birthday to my ex-wife. I do not feel love, but not hatred. I feel a strange sense of affection for the mother of my son and for being the person I loved most.
Hatred larger scale is found in the world of religion. Many wars have caused the world for religious reasons or tribal issues. This happened in the 80s and 90s in Rwanda with the tribes of the Hutus and Tutsis. Thousands and thousands of dead was the consequence of this civil war. And there is the dictatorial regime of the Khmer Rouge of Pol Pot in Cambodia, which led to the deaths of millions of people who hated the regime established purely fascist. And yesterday marked the 75th anniversary of the Kristallnacht in Berlin, Germany. It was the morning from 9 to 10 November 1938 when he began the persecution of Jews in Germany. They killed many Jews and deportations began. And the following year, with the invasion of Poland and the creation of the first ghettos in Warsaw when he started the Second World War that lasted six years and which would die in the Holocaust between 5 and 6 million Jews, apart from soldiers who died on the battlefields. An absurd war between Japan, Italy and Germany against the rest of the world, with the neutrality of some countries, including Spain. Something good did the Franco dictatorship: the stay neutral in World War II. It would have been definitive World War II to Spain after being out of the Spanish Civil War, another demonstration of hatred between the two sides, and the National Republican.
Hatred and more hatred in absurd wars that have caused throughout history million deaths endless and are causing them because they never lack a war that mouthing. There are many weapons to sell to the warlords, who are behind and never see and who are the movers and shakers of many conflicts.
Wars and more wars which can only neutrality, peace movements that combat hatred that exists in the civilian world or between countries. We must remember recently the conflicts in Iran, Iraq and Afghanistan. And the phenomenon of Al Qaeda who is full of hatred especially to the United States and Western countries in general, as happened with Spain on 11 March with trains Atocha station. And hatred of terrorists to the Spanish state, now fashionable again for the release from prison of members of ETA Parot doctrine repealed the Strasbourg Court. It has been revived with hatred that terrorists now that normality was returning relatively to the Basque Country after so long that we absence of terrorist attacks parentheses but not abandon the weapons do they have to do.
We must respond to hatred with love. However difficult this may be. It is sometimes a matter of turning the other cheek and when we run out of cheeks to apply the maximum dose of indifference to hatred does not affect us. And you have to do hard and with enthusiasm because the first victim of hate is the one who feels that rancor corrodes the inside and not let him live. I do not want to feel more hatred. It seems absurd. We must fix the daily life, the environment around us and surrounds us and gives us life. This is full of opportunities to overcome hatred because existence gives us every reason to hate. So we must be strong in adversity feeling of hatred and live with enough humility to transform it into love as far as possible.
I know it is a difficult but possible transformation because I've done. That is what I desire in this special article that I devoted to hatred. Let us not be devoured by this terrible feeling that makes us beasts and prevents us from being rational people that we are supposed to. It is my wish for you. Health and luck.

José Cuadrado Morales.

Thursday, 14 April 2016


 The first briefing he attended in the circle of the URSM dealt with fear and his two facets. Positive, that starts to danger and makes us react to avoid or confront (eg Fleeing an animal or extinguish a fire principle) and the negative, which implies fear what does not exist. Anxiety is related to the latter.
In general fear of the unknown, the situations which pose new problems, but there are specific fears: heights (vertigo), enclosed spaces (claustrophobia) or open spaces (agoraphobia), to be rejected, flying, to relate (social phobia) etc.
As feel fear is in our DNA is that why we are born crying, as if sensing the dangers of the world to lean out?
The neurotic fear evaluated by others something you have to do and imagine the worst consequences. This irrational fear is present in our disease with more intensity, to the point that sometimes we become zombies, paralyzing us up for the simplest acts as asearnos or go outside. Fear is fear itself. We fear both face a situation which not only avoided but for a few days were petrified, his mind circling the subject as a labyrinth without finding out or imagining the worst scenarios (like taking pills to rest forever).
The panic is reflected on a story by Kafka, The Metamorphosis, where the protagonist gradually is becoming a kind of monster that devours. That's the fear, we wrapped in black wings slowly, until completely take over our hours. It is inevitable, as the laugh or mourn, but we must learn to control this spiral of negative thoughts when we know are irrational. Autoanula we fear, it puts jaws our will and even the simplest desire becomes complex when discern and act.
How do we get out of this alley? The truth is that there is no recipe. Each has its own time and resources. If we are alone it is practically impossible to break the invisible fence of fear. We need the Other to see the light at the end of the tunnel or what is the same thing for a believer: have hope, no matter how small things can change for the better. I say this based on an experience years ago and marked me much deep depression. I left leaning on certain religious beliefs, but it took me months because I was in complete solitude. It is known that medications and professional support of a psychologist or psychiatrist help to overcome it, but nothing is as motivating as the support of the most significant things, whether family or friends, it is with them that we stand up and take the first step . Moving about is what allows enclose them overcome fears or unconscious somewhere at least. We need the other to leave the pit because fear attacks when we have low defenses. Asking for help is perhaps the most appropriate recipe, do not you think?


Tuesday, 12 April 2016


I have memories from when I was very very small. I have a year and something when my mother put me first in a spittoon to poop. When I got up and saw so well that I actually felt a great satisfaction because it was something he had done it by myself (I think this is the time of anal speaking psychiatrist Sigmund Freud). I ran to my room and returned with my pencil. I started to remove that and at a given when he tried to prove moment, I heard a horrible scream and I remember the face of my mother's horror ... forgive me for this in writing as scatological but that I wanted to tell. I also remember my birth when I was very young I had a recurring nightmare that I repeated hundreds of times during the first years of my life. It felt very oppressed, in a rough, dark place, suddenly saw a bright light and I woke up and began to mourn my mother calling Mom! mom!
And most I had also once a very curious dream, I saw most in a house that was to be where I have lived a lifetime with my parents. They were huge and very dark rooms. Suddenly in one corner I saw a little girl, I went over and I said, hey! What are you doing here alone? And I asked What is your name? And I said Reyes, then I asked how many years old are you? And I said four I picked her up, I hugged her and kissed me I recognized myself in this girl !. Then I went to a big door bright and there I met one of my sisters and showed the finding that he had.
At that time I was reading self-help books that talked about making peace with our inner child. Especially were books and videos about a Louise Hay.


Friday, 8 April 2016


Usually when you want to extend the memory of someone, we use that phrase has a memory like an elephant. That memory would allow among other things, leave the herd and go to a certain place die when their time comes.
But there is another aspect that highlights a story by Jorge Bucay. A boy visiting a circus see a huge elephant chained to a small wooden stake and asks the obvious question: why is chained ?, so that it will not leak tell you, but seeing the size difference between the animal and the stake follows that it would be easy to tear the ground why not ?, because it does respond trained him and the child retorts: and if amaestrado why tie it? Receives few consistent answers, until someone tells him when he was little tied him to the stake and the elephant tried to break free again and again, kicked, pushed, pulled and sweated until he was tired of trying and one day accepted his fate . After growing up he no longer tried again, because in his mind the idea that I could not break free was recorded.
That happens sometimes with people. If we inculcate something small, then it is very difficult to believe otherwise. We are like trained elephant, convinced that we can do nothing to change our future. I guess in many childhood traumas that we carry in the sense of the futility of our actions are based. It is a clear misconception, but both hear "you're a good for nothing" and phrases like that, you end up convinced that they are true and little battle gives life. Hopefully the bad memories do not condition us as much as the elephant and despite the difficulties, try to always be free to decide when.

As a poem by Mario Benedetti says:
Do not give up, there's still time
to reach out and start again,
accept your shadows,
bury your fears,
release the ballast
return flight.
Do not give up that life is that ......


Thursday, 7 April 2016


Hi all I ever write that I went to my illness, not conquer fear achievement that has taken hold of me. Every time I go out on the street I walk into a bar. or anywhere I have fear of everything and everyone. It is indescribable, I was paralyzed, stiff, nervous, I locked the words, in short, very bad. When I walk down the street I think that persecute me, and if I meet someone I think I want to hurt. I can not more, although everything is fruit of my imagination, of the disease. What fatal step, my doctors tell me to learn to live with it, but it is very difficult. I give you an example, yesterday walked down the street and on the street, were two pimps, looked at them, and quickly changed the look, I heard perfectly as insulted me, that I live as real as if they were real, I hear these voices and I keep hearing them. As I have written in other articles, all this happens to me, it is due to cocaine use, although I have three years without taking anything, do not achieve these fears disappear. In a word panic it is what I feel when I have to go outside.
I just want to know if any of you think of something like that, I wonder if there are more people going through the ordeal I'm going through. If so, please answer me. For me, it is very important to listen to other stories, and know what they do to combat them.
Well, I say goodbye, kisses to everyone and a warm greeting.

Pedro Real

Monday, 4 April 2016


My mom loves me. I love my mom. With these and many other similar phrases I was taught to read and write the Salesian Sisters of Castellar street in Seville when he was 4 years and then Lasallian Brothers, De La Salle Brothers, with 5 years. then it had to be early by force because studies began long before now had to start reading and writing very soon. I also spent a year with a private teacher and other students in a nursery. I do not remember what it was called the teacher, but she had a good relationship, but not with the Salesian Sisters, which told them he did not want to write because I was not wanted. So I was rebellious at the beginning of my life. They were stories that told me my mother, who lived all my things as their own because I was always worried about me. He was always on me, stubborn that was happy above all.
She continually showed me his love. With kisses, caresses, hugs. I was however very unfriendly and hardly showed love to my mother. For a long time I felt guilty for being so cold but fortunately my mother got over the guilt complex with a lot of will and with the help of psychotherapy. It was so hard to be loving as I thought. Now I remember you and I can say that I love on the fourth anniversary of your death will meet next January. Four years already without you, but you otherwise. Because I believe in the hereafter, I think that there is another life that will give us, I will give you the opportunity to compensate me for my mistakes, which are many. And those who still have me committed. An article is the least you deserve for how good you were always with me.
I remember you've always been very patient with me. Small, and have a good memory for it, I stood on the roof and I asomabas from the parapet into the street to distract me with pedestrians and cars so he could eat. Tardabas forever to feed me. I took a century for each scoop. And I also remember how much crying in the crib and how he always had to end up in bed with Dad and you to sleep. I guess annoyed, but I was very small. I always my favorite comics you bought to get used to reading and to develop my imagination because I almost always said he wanted to be a writer. And I started writing with 7 years. A rather scribbling. And you you understood very well. I have given in this life to many things, but all that has always been true to myself is Literature. And you never put my objections to it.
I always remember you gave up for me at school because of problems with peers and teachers. And I remember when was the high school wanted to leave in the second year and between you and the Head of Studies convencisteis me not to leave him. That made picked more confidence in myself and draw ten plates of honor ten subjects in the third year. And four salient and three plates of honor in COU. In Selectivity I took a note of 8.1.Y started studying Journalism and Philology, but I did not feel well the nerves and I did not feel well without being able to write. I left journalism in third grade and Philology at first. You understood it very well. You know that the literature was basic to me and I could not leave her. I worked as a waiter. After the National Statistics Institute. And finally in the Ministry of Finance, where I quoted to have the pension that now I have and that allows me to live.
With seven years I also began to show symptoms of disease and nervous, which I had inherited it my father, like my sisters. And you took me to Jesus D. Romero, the neuropsychiatrist who treated my father. And after the Red Cross to Dr. Cabello. And then Dr. Hernandez Deeds, who works at the Mental Health Center that now I'm going to see the doctor Martin. And you took me even professor of psychiatry at the University of Seville, with how expensive it cost. I then went out with a girl who had schizophrenia. And the psychiatrist told me I could not help someone sick if I too was also needed help. That has never been forgotten because it is quite true.
I remember over the years and learned to show affection and I invited you and Dad to go to Lanjarón to take the waters every year. Dad lived that with extra enthusiasm and served him take the water much for your liver problems and nerve problems. And to you served for your rheumatoid arthritis that you caused a tremendous pain and swelling like the hands of a brutal manner. I suffered much for you then and understood how much you had suffered for me since childhood.
I can now say openly that my mom loves me, I love my mom.
At present despite your death because to me you still exist in another form of life I can not explain why only be achieved by faith. You recited every night, I remember well, but never ended up believing in another life that was not it. I'll see you when I die.
I was strong when you died. I saw the stiff, cold funeral home, with a pupa that you had done on the lip days earlier. I was able to see you dead. Then I was able to hold the requiem mass and the parade of condolence from the audience. And I was able to hold the funeral and how the builders dammed the niche with cement and bricks. It was a very cold day and rain. I remembered a scene from the movie The Barefoot Contessa with Ava Gardner and Humphrey Bogart. The film always present in my life even in the most critical moments. In this film there was also a scene of a funeral with rain and open umbrella. It was all very cold. The worst was then come home and find he was alone, without you, and forever. They had been met verses of Jorge Manrique. Life in a round point is finished. Since then he had to learn to live alone and without you, that was the worst.
But before your death from Parkinson's and Alzheimer you enjoyed because I tried to make it up to my coldness teenager. Took you to all the places you wanted: to see sing Raphael, to see Los Morancos de Triana, Isla Magica, the Cycle Theatre and School, the International Puppet Festival of Seville, the Feria, Circus, to Easter, etc ... I do enough for you as you had done for me since childhood, from the parapet on the roof where you gave me to eat. Now I was the one who gave you food to you. They had turned the tables and I made up my coldness and immature teenager. And every day you read your beloved ABC newspaper. You tragabas it whole.
I was more of El Correo de Andalucía for having worked on it. Also the New Andalusia, which had disappeared. I brought flowers occasionally, Ferrero Rocher chocolates that loved you, etc ... It was easier than I thought the show affection, love, affection. And so it was gradually compensating my teenage fault.
When you died I lived with a woman who left me when I took a major depression for your departure at 80 years. I had to then enter and was the first and only admission to a psychiatric unit of my life, specifically in the Virgen Macarena Hospital. There I spent 15 days. There I mourn your death. There I met a psychiatrist who was interested in me and put the treatment that I have now and I'm pulling it. You already know how are diseases of nerves because you grabbed a good depression with Dad's death in 1992. know the ups and downs that has the soul when holstered by depression. In the hospital I became stronger and was able to put all the clothes in order, clean house and start living alone. And I'm alone since. I had a recent relationship with a girl but has gone wrong and now I'm tired of failures and would rather settle with my solitude. Nor it is tragic and is bearable.
You always told me that was your favorite son, causing jealousy of my sisters. They were always jealous of me. You always told me when he went out at night I called you because you cared for me. And you asked me to call when I was traveling to my two favorite destinations: Madrid and Arcos de la Frontera. You were afraid for me and thought I was going to pass something that almost always traveled alone. He had always been very lonely, although he had good friends, but now the disease had gotten me into a tremendous loneliness, but that did not prevent her to be happy. Occasionally I am traveling with my son. You wanted it so much. I also know that was your favorite grandchild.

Perhaps because it was the first or maybe because it was my son. I do not know. But you always wondered the child, how he was, how he was studies. I'm living things as if it were yesterday. But it's been almost four years of your death and the void does not fill anyone or anything, but I hope in the afterlife. Do not forget.
Now you will have seen that there was another life, much more beautiful than this. And eternal. There is time for everything. Wait for me in memory once wrote in a poem dedicated to you. Well now I repeat: to wait for me in memory to wait for me in memory, all that we live together, a piece goes this article. I could tell many things about you, about me, about us. Do not stop. A memoir gives to our relationship. It was intense and had everything from the worst to the best.
Now my son behaves with me also a little coldly, but someday understand that it is not necessary to be so cold with a parent. Nobody is perfect and understand that love a father is so important, for example, how to love his girlfriend. They are simply different loves. And it is a matter of time, knowing distribute the time. It is a matter of investing the energy in the best possible way among all people want.
I, mother, you just wish you well.
You're happy where you are right now. Make you feel at ease. You have patience until I get there. Less is left. Every day that passes is one day less to our reunion. And that I wish you, dear readers, to be patient with loved ones and faith in another dimension where loved ones who are no longer impatient waiting for us to arrive. Be happy because faith long ago. Health and luck.

Friday, 1 April 2016


My relationship with books and literature has always been affectionate. I have shared these moments when I have fun. They have been my companions in endless adventures. Every book I've read has taught me something. A new word, a thought or an idea that previously had no knowledge. For me the books have been friends. I read once in "The English and the dancer" that a book is a friend waiting. Much of the time I have devoted to live and I have done with books sharing my concerns and my time. I have devoted much of my reading and has been a compelling reason in my life.
So I want to emphasize at this table coexistence of mental health and literature for me as mentally ill and as a person with experience in life, as a person who has a story to tell, literature has helped me to find out better my disease.
When I realized that my thinking was conditioned by the disease, I went to my psychiatrist to explain that I had some ideas that were di

fferent from the rest of the people. Then my psychiatrist diagnosed me paranoid schizophrenia. Then I went to go to my regular reviews, this time accompanied by my mother. The psychiatrist asked me who spent my time. I told him that much of what he did during the day was for the afternoon reading. I warned that this was not a good idea, that it was detrimental to my recovery. It was an activity that caused me to do it isolation from others.
Obviously I did not listen. My illness to make me feel comfortable reading, although this could be harmful. I do not say that my psychiatrist was wrong. Maybe he thought a young boy of twenty what he had to do was interact with other kids twenty years and enjoy all the wonderful thing that can be enjoyed when one is twenty years. But I had other plans for my recovery as mentally ill. Preferred reading. Share my time with books and live in a different way what for me would formative years.
What I mean is that if we think we can read back against the mentally ill because this has to do it alone and this can cause isolation.
We are not giving importance to training. Curricula mark guidelines but not everything is included in these plans. There is a large body of knowledge that can only be achieved through reading. Read books and novels makes increase our cultural heritage and know experiences that otherwise would not get.
I say mentally ill as part of my recovery and part of my lifestyle has been linked to reading and literature. There are other patients who turn to other activities, such as sports. Here is the chance to interact more with others. I was not looking for more friends than books. Relied more on a novel that in the people around me. Felt less delusions when I was reading that when my time spent interacting with others. This was what my psychiatrist was concerned that the disease was face as I had interdependent relations. I have to say I hid behind the books for the first ten years of my illness accompany me.