Friday, 27 May 2016


It is a strange being, just talking, going through your hand and feel as if a ghost were crossing in front of you. Just talk to the kiosquero to ask the newspaper. Just talk to the waiter to ask for coffee. If for some reason have to wait more than necessary at the kiosk or in the bar, he gets nervous and starts looking around uncertainly. Because in fact what is fleeing from contact with others. Only you found safe in his ivory tower. Covered by the books that accompany so many hours. And he prefers to be accompanied by books because much disbelieve in people does. Disappointments of life have become reclusive and misogynist. Love one day he had in his honey but now has left a bitter taste bitter orange that runs through the stomach every time you remember it.
So writes poetry. So he is a poet. Because of the experience of life and you have doses of pain to write about. And it is not that poetry has to be painful to be understandable. But gone are those first poems in referring to the beloved, those first poems were a hymn to the joy of living. It was the life that will fit most precious. And now everything is already secondary. For that to love someone if we know of it we have to separate! Why write if you believe that life is so fragile? Because it's what helps you endure.
 For it is in these verses that will be lost in a drawer where the feeling becomes immortal. Because in essence it is bold. Although his black and pale figure is closer to thinking that the crossing with him we came across a dead, he is bold. And with every verse that starts a girón writes skin to life. And every word is constructed hammer and chisel. And so will the poet for ever and ever, by the verses of the poems, by the words of the verse. Fragile, like a ghost, it freezes your skin to bump into him. The mirror reflection is warm and subtle. It seems that the breath of life out of his hands between breaths sighing to the sky. The poet much I miss eat in this world by roaming his face does. It belongs more to the realm of darkness, a spectrum, the appearance of a shadow. The poet has no pulse. Rivers running through his veins wilted sand clocks. In walking through this world which leads Atlantean tiles. So the poet walks slowly. Slow. And when you say goodbye to this world, we all have to carry on our backs a little bit of the essence of the poet.

Pedro Sanchez

Monday, 23 May 2016


fear content
unexpressed fear
I fear swallowed
and undigested
Sometimes paralyzing fear
Fear of the unknown
and their laughter and smiles
Fear of neighbors
Afraid to use mobile
Fear Internet
and social networks
Afraid to ring the mobile
and receiving bad news
I fear the washer
and burst
I fear to manipulate the carboy
and exploits
Fear of cooking
and cause fire
Afraid to eat
and intoxicated
Fear of construction and renovation
We started one at home now
Fear of rain
and wind
and the sun
I fear replenish paper
Printer URA


What then will tell, it is the memory of the "form" which was entered last; of the times I've been, this is what has impressed me by his forcefulness and unnecessary, useless and gratuitous cruelty.
Go ahead not keep trace of rancor or revenge any, just that I like that the actions of the health and police authorities were more measured, more "soft" without disproportionate force and with some discretion, if it can be .
The particular history of this income began on a Saturday before Easter, when when I was at the Plaza of my people sitting on a bench, accompanied by my brother and my sister, arrived and do not know in what order, sanitary equipment, two local policemen and two civilian guards; after talking platitudes, as if you know me, if you know who I am, I suddenly fell between four and taken handcuffed from behind, to the ambulance, which was introduced on the upside down table and the alert on. Once at the hospital I was introduced, I do not know where, to a psych ward ....... Highlights were the two pri following mere nights, which did not sleep tied the hands and feet first and second, hands feet and armpits, resulting in pain and burden understandable.
The next morning, and seeing the big picture, say I to ask "own initiative" forgiveness for my "sins" and that here nothing has happened, and most importantly, I got me were removed the straps of my bed, flowing from here everything and normally on because he did not understand how having two smoking rooms were not suitable for this purpose, prevailing over the rule or the bureaucracy that need or palliative therapy consisting stop smoking people admitted without consent, against his will, with much "downtime" and smokers ...
In this sense, and taking advantage, I wonder if rural residences in the highlands, where those affected can let off steam, cut wood, clean the forest, looking after animals or bathing whitewater or calm waters, which will clear the mind or the minds of Mentally ill.
Well, the end is that what they told me was that I had lack of sleep.

Diego de la Algaba

Monday, 16 May 2016


I've had a hard life, my parents separated when I was five years, after my mother and father were sought other couples. Neither my brother nor I were deacuerdo. After courtships because of our parents I had to go to Germany and my brother stayed in Seville. Finally I was rulando by Germany and Spain until I was 18. Alos 18 years I went to nursing school and met a guy who was my boyfriend. I was heartbroken abuse me, I was unfaithful, What a mess! Let studies, and came to Spain as a loser, to my mother to help me. I found the opposite. I started having a lot of trouble and did things not yet forgive me. I took a depression that lasted me 8 years after I was diagnosed with schizophrenia I no longer know what to do. I got into the drug, taking everything (cocaine, hashish, pills, LSD, hallucinogenic mushrooms marijuana, heroin, alcohol and snuff.) And because taking it so often did not distinguish reality from fantasy, I was wrong were people who wanted me help but I just wanted to do what I please come. She was tired of enduring, sick of me should tell what I had to do and I was forced to do so. Anyway, I hit rock bottom when he was 36 years and 15 of them dedicating myself.
Be aware that I had to take care of myself, I stopped eating, everything but the snuff, left to coffee and fizzy things, bad eating habits and started to play sports. Now that I have 38 years I've been watching my two years I am a little happier, which I neither thought possible, and I path to happiness.
What I have learned is that life is full of surprises, who would have told me that I was after all what had happened he would know happiness ?. Life is very hard but very nice, worth living is learning a lot of things and when you least expect can be happy. I wish you luck.



Mental illness is a great unknown, and what is known of it is biased information. Most of the time "flees" ignorance and other times for fear of the unknown and what "social" is known about mental illness. We are all responsible in this topic, but I have to tell you that today, we are in a world full of "individualism" and for all is difficult to make friends really. Friends in every sense of the word. Friends who accompany you always and can understand at all times. And it's hard to find with and without mental illness. But fact is that people with mental illness have it more complicated. Today we are witnessing a lack of understanding by the other in so many ways that each little step becomes complicated. Having a mental illness is a "handicap" but I must also say that we must fight for it. I always say that nobody told us how difficult life in general. Today, more than ever, have a friend who has a treasure; Besides, I think almost everyone s, can count on the fingers of one hand.

Friday, 13 May 2016


Imagine you were naked in a big city in winter people would look at you strangely and you would face. That is the stigma that makes us vulnerable because the disease is not in a straight line if not bumpy; sometimes we speak alone, as with a friend who does not know who he is. One day I walked into the psychiatrist and asked, Is it wrong to have an invisible friend ?, told me not to. I am aware that there but never stop talking so instead of getting depressed I consider my friend charlatan who sometimes makes me pranks. My job every day is to silence him, tell him to go and although I try sometimes makes me go to the clouds. The biggest barrier I've found in my life is that I have seen a drug addict and told me hooked but unlike a patient who uses drugs I take a super strict schedule because if I do I die. During my time in psychiatry I have seen people so consumed by the disease do not even washed. I always carry a notebook as a tool to put feet on the ground because unlike a normal person abstraction is my world and encounter difficulties in establishing normal things like a conversation. However alone I can write a thousand words the problem is that they think you're some kind of idiot because they have no iota of idea about what is happening but stability can work even more than normal and more capable person the problem is that you know not relate and others take advantage of your weak point to attack.
You have to give people protest be useful because it works but I protest not keep busy the hours I'm awake because if I tend to avoid me with less distracted mind I evado. The problem is that you walk into a work companies one hundred percent but then the disease will gambles have a relapse and the employer no longer trusts you and you go with the tails between their legs never thinking I can fulfill myself as a person, I after I have had many failures and I do not take me so bad but I've seen comrades fall into such depression that even kill themselves because above that you live with a stigma you are not helpful in any way and others will despise. My fight is not with anyone if not myself, getting enough sleep, take my notebook and take medication strictly try to perform tasks for me not attack the invisible friend even see people who appreciate us as followers who are listening to us gives me encouragement .
The only intention we have with this is to connect with others while they understand us because there is no greater gift that you can do us that you accept us even though we are different I for one feel when the voices attacking me I'm a disgusting person and the last thing I need is above me do not understand me because that creates more depression, called the queen of the disease in a second can laze a balcony if you have no track. I call it the circle of the head is like you're locked into it like a prison all I hope is that some scientist us a solution to bring more normalized life possible but it is the most essential part of a person's welcome. Improved even if I try I fall my task is to bring more normalized life in what happens to me and I hope not to die in this way because I feel that if I do disappoint whole team of people and colleagues who urge us to move forward and learn to live with our limitations. Thank you all for your curiosity and your interest, so that in some sense you may know that we also feel like you.


Wednesday, 4 May 2016


Who has not wanted to immortalize a special moment of your life through a photo? Simply open the album memory to retrieve the preferred images that were shaped forever on the shiny piece of paper.
There is a gallery of photographs, starting with births, the inevitable birthdays, weddings sporadic and sometimes the disease. But usually spontaneous shots, any day when nothing special is celebrated, the most "decidoras" because we are not posing for the occasion: like cooking, cleaning the garden, answer the phone, hang clothes, rest in the favorite sofa, stroking a pet and so much more.
Despite today's technology remains the magic of old photos in black-era grandparents and white and "Casablanca", seem to have more charm over the years, because they reflect a fashion and lifestyle that we did not know.
Color photography will not have the nostalgic tint of the above, but has its own charm, you know how to capture the colors that our eyes give us. Who does not delight with blue sky dotted with white clouds over the snow ?, Who did not take to the trees in autumn when its leaves are stained from yellow-candy to a deep reddish-brown? , What would the kaleidoscope of fashion (style Agata Ruiz de la Prada) if only reflejáramos shades of gray?
As the black-white contrast gives dramatize the images (portraits, landscapes desolate, disease, etc.), the color dyed vivacity photos, because that is life: colorful, sometimes clear and other dark.
Family photos and friends often dispute the place of honor among our preferences. Who does not keep a picture of her First Communion with a long white dress, like a bride ?, Who does not treasure the fond memories of a friend making mockery of the camera or enjoying a well deserved holiday in our company? , What about pets, it is a white cat arrebujadita in a corner of the couch or jet black dog running after a ball broken both nibbling ?, What about the funny family that threatens to spoil the roll film with its many bells and whistles ?.
Just as television did not end with the radio, or Internet with newspapers, new technologies do not end with photography, which is an art in itself, is in the hands of professional-like graphics- reporters, or amateurs as we are all of us.


Tuesday, 3 May 2016


Suicide is a sensitive issue. Each has its own conception of suicide and is difficult to agree on it. I try this difficult topic because I recently saw a movie where a definition of the many that can be done about suicide is: "A permanent solution to a temporary problem." Also I treat it as a tribute to the death of Robin Williams, who committed suicide this summer in a tremendous way: hung from the ceiling with a belt and wrists of both hands opened. He was only 63 years and has left many films, including many that we use to laugh and have a good time. Pure irony.
Suicide is not always a definitive solution to a temporary problem. There may be a terminal disease and believe that someone wants to end his life because he left a short time. In fact a few days ago I saw on television a girl with an advanced and inoperable brain cancer that had foreseen his death for a given day, but that day they had taken it in good spirits and eager to smile. That day had love for life and did not want to commit suicide. Well that is all about: taking time and patience to overcome suicide because when you least expect may arise the desire to continue living. If you kill you, it is already impossible.
Years ago, when I was a regular lecturer, used to give lectures, including one titled Why writers commit suicide? It can be extrapolated to other topics suicide than writers perfectly. For example: Ernest Hemingway, Nobel Prize for Literature, killed himself because he was diagnosed with cancer and thought he could no longer lead the life with the same vitality with which he had led until then. It was a permanent adventurer. He participated in the Spanish Civil War as a war reporter and out came his novel For Whom the Bell Tolls ?, of which became a movie with Gary Cooper. Ernest ran in the San Fermin festival, ie risked his life when he was healthy, but knowing of his illness was not able to have the courage to face it and shot himself in the mouth with a shotgun. The lack of vitality led him to death.
Another writer Cesare Pavese is, which led to the suicide loneliness. He went to the Hotel Roma in Turin and there only wrote one more line: "I won't write any more", ie, "Do not write more". His loneliness had become untenable and even only left the hostel and there took his own life, I can not remember now how that has been many years since I gave the conference on suicide writers and their reasons. There are many people who can not stand the loneliness and take their own lives rather than discover the pleasures of solitude, which are many because I relish, although there are times I also feel alone certainly think like everyone else.
Then there is the Kawabata Japanese who committed suicide by excess people, the opposite of Pavese. He was very quiet writing, but when he was given the Nobel her house was filled with people. They kept coming journalists to interview him. Continually they took photographs. He had lost the main thing for him quiet to write. That he could not bear and took his own life, I do not remember if the traditional Japanese method.
We in the example of Spain Mariano José de Larra, who committed suicide basically for two reasons: because in Spain they could not implement liberal ideas and a love failure. He could have lived in another country with liberal ideas and could have overcome the failure of love as did Antonio Machado with the death of his young wife. He lacked love for life, finding positive outlets suicide.
We also have in Spain Angel Ganivet, least known of the Generation of 98, suffering from anxiety disorder member. That is, it was mentally ill, but at the time this was not so recognized. He threw himself from a ship at sea and rescued him. But he had a second chance and got drowned. It was a recidivist suicide, which proves what I always say that he wants to commit suicide succeeds. I do not believe in suicide constantly frustrated.
There are many cases of suicide writers. With what I have written is enough. They lacked love for life and left thereof afraid to live in a way they did not want. The mentally ill often they think about suicide. In fact, as I said a psychiatrist, it is normal that mental patients think about suicide. A friend of mine bothered him that the psychiatrist told that that phrase, but it's a reality. mental disorders and suicide are linked. But you have to get all the will in the world and all the love for life to go on because sooner or later overcome the bad times.
Juan Ramon Jimenez and said life is what gives meaning to death and not death that gives meaning to life. We must be grateful to life for having the chance to enjoy it, although it is not always as we want and although sometimes live a true calamity. Juan Ramon had more than enough reasons to kill himself, but always had the help of his wife Zenobia, which survived two years. But also he puts much on your part when not yet had and when was lucky to share.
I think everyone some time we have thought about suicide for very different reasons: a breakup, a depressive crisis, etc ... The reasons for suicide are many and no one can discuss them because each one is. For many people it is a cause of suicide job insecurity and indeed it causes more deaths because people feel useless and reach a high level of despair.
In the great economic cataclysms, like the Crash of 29 in New York, also abound suicides. People do not feel supported by events and take their own lives, as if that would provide them greater happiness. That is all I can leave life and not face problems when all are fixable sooner or later.
The hard part is staying afloat, fighting to live. As Tim Robbins said in the excellent film Shawshank Redemption "all depends endeavor to engage in live or die." He insisted on the film live and for decades planned and prepared the escape from prison and the consequent happiness. We must be patient with the problems and know how to face them to move forward. Must be given an opportunity to life for evil we are. And I tell you that I have lived terrible moments with depression and anxiety, I lost my parents, I have experienced a divorce with a small child and so on.
Is suicide an act of cowardice? I do not know. Each case is unique and each can feel different in the critical situation of suicide. The truth is that suicide is the end. We do not give more opportunities to try to fight. We close all doors. And the sad thing is that the number of suicides is growing every year, more so in the more developed countries, this may involve a contradiction.
God can be an enormous force for real and solid believers, but also serves on many occasions. Suicide is theoretically a sin, as is a crime to aid a suicide. Faith is always a delicate and ambiguous issue that must be addressed individually to know if God is real and strong presence in us.
We must love life above all things. She puts us problems ahead, but also solutions but not always at the exact time when we need them. We must take patience, it achieves everything.
I have met many frustrated suicide and all regret having tried, which is symptomatic. They have discovered thanks to the suicide attempt the true love of life. It is already known that there is an ill wind that blows no good.
If someone reads my article and I ask is desperate patience and faith, a new opportunity to continue to live, to discover the little desire to live and continue pulling forward. It's possible. And death will come alone. Do not be hurry to die because it is a safety. Health and luck.

Jose Cuadrado Morales