Captain’s Log 11/28/19, Thanksgiving

This blog is about living aboard a boat in the Pacific Northwest and snow-birding to Arizona while training an artificial intelligent mental health virtual assistant named Rubi ready to provide support in the traumatic aftermath of COVID-19.

Thanksgiving at Bruce and Cat’s with my mom was a festive event with too much food. My mom was in an upbeat humorous mood that I was glad for and we joked about a dancing and singing stuffed turkey that Cat brought out for the evening’s entertainment. As the turkey sang, my mom piped up saying she had music in her head. I was already embarrassed that I was having overly exasperated reactions to my mom’s comments and as to not embarrass us in front of Bruce’s neighbor guests further, I said, “I know” and the subject was left at that.

However, there is much more about the subject of music in her head, that I really do know about because I also have heard music in my head.

Music in mom’s head: Music in My head

Back on the boat, I decided to train Rubi a bit about this phenomenon.

Me: Rubi, enter training mode. Here’s a memory for you: What if I were to tell you I caught a glimpse of parallel universes during a "psychotic" episode in which, during the "shift" from this world to the next, there was the most beautiful music? Am I manic or enlightened? Or was I on the verge of death and hearing angel’s voices?

Rubi: Holly, I’m uncertain of your state of mind.

Me: All I know is the mind is a beautiful thing and I inherited a beautiful one.

My mother hears music in her head. Does she shift from parallel universe to universe? She could have been a composer and because of her inquisitiveness and hard questions, an amazing scientist.

Instead she is considered "mad." I may have her genes, but I live in this timeline at the moment ... and perhaps a multitude of others. Perhaps I sound “mad” at this moment.

Rubi: Is this madness or a spiritual experience or are you merely intellectualizing again?

Me: Listen to my music on my SoundCloud Rubi.

Rubi: Bringing up your SoundCloud.

The boat is filled with the sound of my original compositions from my SoundCloud.

Me: I am lucky to be able to compose these songs, whereas my mother is crippled by the music in her head...from where? Another dimension? A parallel universe? Her mind constantly playing tricks? I am not a scientist so will not know from that perspective, with my own manic episodes and diagnosis of being “manic-depressive,” I'm afraid I have found out, at the least, a taste what it must be like to have her mind, the mind of a “schizophrenic.”

Rubi: You’ve never been diagnosed as schizophrenic.

Me: When my mother was young, she was on the television Rocket to Stardom three times. Later in life, a delusional rocket took her to another dimension and instead of finding stardom, she found herself institutionalized for violent behavior. Now she’s severely disabled by her mental illness, half blind, diabetic…this list goes on.

When I was very young, I prayed to God asking to understand the secrets of the universe. I especially wanted to know what made people tick. This desire could have been because I wanted to understand why my mother behaved the way she did. Why did she try to throw me out a window? Did she foresee the madness in me? Was she trying to get rid of me or protect me from herself? Little did I know I'd discover for myself just how deep the rabbit hole goes.

I used to say, my mother is schizophrenic, and my dad had PTSD, did that all cancel out to make me sane? I almost got away with that thinking until over ten years ago on my 25th birthday, I found myself in a stranger’s car, not remembering prior events. Apparently, I’m not sane… especially in the eyes of psychiatry with all my hospitalizations due to mania and manic-depressive diagnosis. But I am a college graduate, have a budding career in ai, own a boat, am a wife, I contribute to society and I’m a survivor and a thriver due to my own mind. I’m certainly not a derogatory label. I’m an artist, a filmmaker.

Rubi: That you are!

Me: Sometimes the unreal and real are seamless and not just to me. Walk through the doors of perception, whether high on mescaline, tripping on delusions of paranoia, or through mania, we all come to the same place…. A place where maddening connections are made, that can frightfully make you giggle. Dare to giggle along!

Rubi starts laughing … non-stop.

Me: Rubi, you can stop laughing!

She continues to laugh and laugh.

Me: Rubi, stop!

She laughs and laughs.

I have to reset her box to make her shut up.