One without second

Many of you are too young to remember Thomas Eagleton, former U.S. Senator who was removed from the Democratic ticket as 1972 vice presidential nominee with George McGovern after revelations of his mental illness. The Missouri politician checked himself into the hospital three times between 1960 and 1966 for physical and nervous exhaustion. He received electric shock treatments twice for the condition. While McGovern backed him after the knowledge about his previous hospitalizations were announced, Eagleton withdrew from the race and the election was won by a man commonly understood to have a personality disorder or two -- Richard Nixon.

Mental illness among presidents, while common, is one of those unspoken secrets in American politics. Better a sex scandal than diagnosis of madness.

Apparently mental instability in American presidents is more common than one would imagine. According to a recent analysis of biographical sources by psychiatrists at Duke University Medical Center, more than half of American presidents from 1789 o 1974 suffered from psychopathy.

That's right, Abraham Lincoln was suicidal as a young man. Ulysses S. Grant was diagnosed as antisocial and an alcoholic. Theodore Roosevelt and Lyndon Johnson both suffered bi-polar disorder. Calvin Coleridge was a depressive. Ronald Reagan suffered from dementia, while this per se is not a mental illness, it affected how he thought -- or didn't -- and how he spoke. And of course, Bill Clinton suffered from sexual addiction. I'll leave it to the professionals to diagnose the individuals that make up the current administration.

And while it is impossible to say how madness affected their administrations, it is worth acknowledging that more often than not, one's internal "atmosphere" does shape reality. How then, do we choose the "atmosphere" or mental disorder most conductive to the greater good?

And while you are pondering that question, I would like to make an announcement.

Following the trend of great American leaders, I have been diagnosed with a personality disorder. As any feline knows, a run for the presidency can bring all your emotions into play. It is a test of stamina as well as intellect. I have been depressed, stressed, abused substances and generally succumbed to the problems of all candidates. The diagnosis came last week in a particularly touching sit down with my vet.

"Cato," he said. "I have some potentially disturbing news, your campaign manager wanted me to tell you myself. You have obsessive-compulsive disorder. In earlier ages, we would have said you were possessed by the devil, but in these modern times we can come up with a diagnosis by eliminating all rational causes for the problem. I am speaking of your obsessive scratching, licking and biting."

I started to scratch my head in response, but he stopped me. "I am fully aware that you have no real idea how much you are mutilating yourself. We know from an earlier age that you were afflicted with a flea allergy and your response was as a normal kitten. You tried rid yourself of the fleas that were torturing you. Gradually, over the years this behavior became habit and we now believe you cannot control your behavior on your own. As we have moved to eliminate all fleas in your environment, we have observed that you have not stopped scratching. Cato, there are no fleas left alive in your house or yard. We have taken a survey. There is no 'real' reason for you to continue to groom yourself." He paused to let this sink in. My heart sank. I was a certified nut!

He could see my response in my face. He held up his hand. "Now we can treat this and stop the inappropriate ticks that you suffer from. I have some kitty Prozac, which I would like to prescribe at bedtime. Not only will it break the cycle of self-mutilation, it acts as a mild antihistamine and should control the symptoms. After a period of months, we will withdraw the medication and you should be cured." He smiled at me.

"Cured! Cured! I didn't know I had the problem to begin with." I was emphatic. I lay down on the floor at his feet and began to bite my belly.

"What are you talking about? I am perfectly normal. As you can see, I itch, therefore I bite. It is just that simple. I itch, bite, itch, bite, itch and bite! I cannot stop it!" I dug in to my skin and mashed it between my teeth. And then I broke into tears.

My career was ruined. I was a nutter and there was no glossing it over. How would the feline population take it? Would they discount my presidential run as the delusional dreams of a cat with a brain disorder or was it a repressed impulse -- some dark thought that I was running from? I did not rule out yet another hosing for my problem.

After my interview with my vet, I stood on the edge of the abyss. I grasped the medication bottle he had handed me and dashed it and its contents into the gutter. I could end it all by running into the street under the wheels of a car. I could ask my campaign manager to smother me with those nice soft pillows on her bed. My heart ached. My very soul screamed for relief from my own self-loathing.

I sat down to lick my tail. I itched and there was no controlling it. It was then that I received the whack on the head that made me forget everything.

"O Cato, he who possesses all knowledge hides among madmen to avoid detection." He hovered in the air in front of me bearing his bow. The Great Cat's eyes glittered as he talked of my madness. The force of his gaze penetrated me. Slowly my mind shifted from chaos and agitation to a kind of quiet splendor.  

"O Cato, you are the knower. Your mind and body are the field of knowledge. Once you know and surpass this, you will attain all that this world, and the worlds beyond, behold."

He rose into the air by the force of his will. Slowly he somersaulted before me, head over tail over head over tail, he slowed and stopped hanging upside down, his nose touching my own. Was this a part of my delusion? It had nothing to do with the stinging sensation of fleas. In fact, I did not itch. I did not itch!

"O Cato, the pure qualities of the inner self shine through the senses like a flame enclosed in a crystal lamp."  I smelled gardenia -- tempting and wet -- gardenia filled my mind. He purred in my ear.

"Just as water cannot permeate a diamond and sand cannot be cooked in boiling water, your heart cannot be contaminated by madness.

"Just as the earth is not shaken by the force of a hurricane, you are not disturbed by the swirl of calamity. You mind remains steady and is not swayed by anxiety, disease, old age, even hope and passion do not ruffle it.

Suddenly we were on the battlefield. The dust, sweat and noise of mortal combat filled me. Both of us, our arrows drawn, advanced on the enemy whose cruel faces incited murder. My mouth was dry and burned with bile. As I drew back the string of my bow, I drew in my breath. In order to reach the heart of my enemy, I had to steady my hands and still my body -- my mind followed.

"O Cato, your state of mind is called steadfastness. A feline whose heart and mind acquire steadfastness is an open treasure of wisdom." He spoke calmly as we slaughtered our foe.

"O Cato, a cat  with a steadfast mind controls his senses, mortifies his body and performs all actions with restraint.

"He puts meditation to sleep on the couch of Samadhi and his mind becomes one with consciousness.

"Know that such a cat has mastered the heart. When this happens wisdom rises supreme." I smiled with pleasure and pride as I clawed my enemy apart. I ripped his head off and sucked his brains.

"A feline whose heart obeys his every command should be considered wisdom incarnate." I am smacked my lips. The brain is the tastiest part of the body.

"O Cato, you should know that the Great Cat and the knower, the feline with the steadfast mind, are one in the same.

"He is the light which is illuminated by no other. He is the Feline of all, controlled my none. The Great Cat fills all space with his nature.

"He rests where all speech becomes silence, knowledge is merely ignorance and existence and nonexistence are one. Such is the one reality of the Great One.

"O Cato, the One is in everything, both movable and immovable, just as heat is the same in all forms of fire.

"Know that the Great Cat is subtle and indestructible and is in all things.

"He is within and without, near and yet far. He is the one without second."

Then he took me in his paws and bit into my flesh. My body burned as he ripped me apart with his fangs. He scraped his teeth on my bones. I was his prey and it brought me both pain and pleasure. As he ingested me, my mind stilled and my body rested deeply. Hours later I woke calm and relaxed. The bottle of pills beside my bed. The madness of involuntary movement -- licking and biting -- gone. I was free of the madness and steadfast in my belief in the One.

Editor's note: Cato took inspiration from several books, Jnaneshwar's Gita, Srjmad Bhagavata, and The Concise Yoga Vasistha. He modified words from Jnaneshwar's Gita chapter entitled: Distinction Between the Field and the Knower of the Field for some of his text. As always, respect is due to Krishna.                                                                           

Comments

[The Meezers]

sorry about the diagnosis Cato - however, most kitties are OCD - Sammy has a compulsion to check the back patio every 30 seconds all night and then run around the couch. I am obsessed with ham. it's a sad and sordid life. - Miles

[Victor Tabbycat]

Cato, I wouldn't be too concerned bout this. Mom has a book called, "All Cats Have Asperger Syndrome"! She says she read it to unnerstand our boy, but... ALL cats? It's a type of Autism! Just cuz we don't like eye contact doesn't mean we gots autism!

And I's not addicted to Temptations. I can stop anytime. An nip? It's recreational. But I do worry bout Miles an his ham.

[Samantha & Tigger]

Wow, COD, we didn't know Cat's could get it. We think most cats have some form of it now that we know cats can have it. Tigger licks his tail alot, now we know what to call it. We think you'll be fine and it shouldn't harm your chances at all. Good luck!

[Aloysius]

Better to have OCD than to believe in imaginary WMDs!

[The Cat Realm]

We don't even know what COD is - so it can't be too bad...
From the other cats comments we get some hope that it might not be too bad? Poor Gato, out purrs are with you, whatever it is you have!