The Georgie Gust Exhibit

Brand New Book Review of Second Alibi: The Banality of Life by Jonathan Harnisch

"Afflicted with schizophrenia, Tourette's Syndrome and other mental illnesses, the prolific and gifted Jonathan Harnisch has transformed the harrowing raw material of his life into what he calls "transgressive fiction" in semi-autobiographical novels such as Jonathan Harnisch: An Alibiography and Living Colorful Beauty. With Second Alibi: The Banality of Life, he revisits the abrasive, triangular psychodrama of his brilliant, questing psychotic Ben Schreiber, Ben's libertine alter-ego, Georgie Gust, and the sadistic temptress, Claudia Nesbitt, who torments them both, while also including a moving plea for understanding that stands apart from the disturbed fevers of his fiction. "This is a story, I hope, about my coming to enlightenment," Harnisch writes, and in that vein he enlightens us, too, about the fantastic terrors of schizophrenia: "What this life is like with the ups and the downs, the confusion, the love and the hate; the black and the white." He tells us about his moods abruptly shifting 25 times in an hour, his suicide attempts and addictions, the grim realities of sleep deprivation and the fear that his beloved wife has been reading his mind. Second Alibi toggles unpredictably between semi-coherent rage (Harnisch says he often writes when symptomatic) and cool detachment, and it deploys several forms: Harnisch's sexually-charged fiction (Claudia is "a slow-moving serpent with a tongue of fire and the ass of a bombshell"); a 106-page screenplay featuring dialogues between Ben and his old antagonists, and with his life-saving therapist, "Dr. C"; self-lacerating entries from "Georgie Gust's" 2005 diary, and the author's clear explanations of his condition, apparently written at moments when his symptoms have subsided. At times, Harnisch is energized by the very power of his illness. "The mind and the sickness is all so sublime," he writes, "the heart of living, colorful beauty." But in his most lucid moments, this brave and eloquent writer struggles mightily to escape the dark woods of madness: 'As always, my journey continues, on and on.'"-- BlueInk Review

Jonathan Harnisch An Alibiography | Amazon and Goodreads | Top 5 Most Helpful Customer Book Reviews

Jonathan Harnisch: An Alibiography Paperback – May 10, 2014by Jonathan Harnisch  (Author)"The most compelling character in the literature of madness since A Beautiful Mind's John Nash."-- BlueInk Review...This, it is easy to imagine, is what life with mental illness is like for some: full of continuous questioning, rationalization, guilt, anxiety.Jonathan Harnisch: An Alibiography presents a simultaneously dazzling and frightening portrayal of mental illness through the eyes of several characters--though all embodied in the same being.The complex narrative is seemingly told from the viewpoint of Benjamin J. Schreiber, son of a wealthy blue- blood family who converses with his doctor (known as C). The privilege afforded to him by birth enables him to live relatively well off; his multitude of diagnoses, including Tourette's and schizoaffective disorder, would effectively render him incapable of functioning in society under other circumstances. However, Ben doesn't wish to talk about himself with Dr. C, but rather a fictional counterpart, Georgie Gust.Georgie, like Ben, comes from an aristocratic family and views reality from a different vantage. An obsessive coffee drinker and chain smoker, he maintains a quiet (though sordid) existence on the outside, a rich sexual life in private. Early in the text, an erotic scene focusing on his foot fetishism appears in exacting detail. This proves to be the most tame of Georgie's passions, as soon he begins his sadomasochistic conquest of Claudia, an older woman whom he hires to torture him. This, too, is richly rendered, as Georgie is teased with dripping wax, hot pans, and psychological distress. The two become dependent upon each other, hating yet needing their company, and their relationship evolves into a bizarre reimagining of the American Dream, one in which we are privy to the seedy reality underneath the polished exterior.Forced to confront the darker nature of desire, An Alibiography shocks and confuses as the narrative unspools itself with a randomness that evokes a questioning of reality. This, it is easy to imagine, is what life with mental illness is like for some: full of continuous questioning, rationalization, guilt, and anxiety. In many respects, this work can be compared to Alasdair Gray's 1982, Janine, in which a businessman obsesses over his sadomasochistic desires and dreams, seeking meaning in his own marginalized existence. Harnisch's work, however, employs many main characters embodied in the same man, building realities within realities that often cannot be constructed into a cohesive narrative.At over eight hundred pages, the subject loses shock value and becomes mundane. As Georgie and Claudia's passion evolves and intensifies, and the novel ventures into the completely surreal, disgusting, and criminal, the oversaturation of violence and S&M confuses the message. Mental illness is romanticized at points in the text, as well, which may leave some familiar with the realities with an unsavory taste. That's not to say the work isn't well written--it's carefully plotted with well-rendered characters, presented in a narrative that would appropriately be deemed "schizophrenic."However, upon reaching the end, there is an exhaustion. Perhaps, though, this is in itself a meaning: that life with mental illness is difficult and confusing, yet produces a desperation for understanding.ALEX FRANKS (October 14, 2015)-- Foreword Clarion Reviews

THE BRUTAL TRUTH | COMPLIMENTARY AUDIOBOOK | BY JONATHAN HARNISCH

The Brutal TruthbyJonathan HarnischI am an artist, author, and filmmaker who lives with comorbid schizoaffective disorder, as well as a range of other mental health conditions. In The Brutal Truth, I reveal my schizophrenic world with all its terrors and wonders. The book offers a raw and candid glimpse into the rarely told and poorly understood reality of living with schizophrenia—where “the only place where my dreams become impossibilities is in my mind.” The Brutal Truth is a collection of essays that brings together material that was written for my online community dedicated to mental health. I have over 100,000 followers on Twitter, as well as a popular Facebook group dedicated to mental health advocacy. This 25,000 word volume is written for others living with severe mental health conditions, as well as general readers interested in understanding the nature of psychosis. I am the author of the semi-fictional and semi-autobiographical novels, Jonathan Harnisch: An Alibiography and Second Alibi: The Banality of Life. I am also a controversial mental health advocate, podcast host, and filmmaker.Synopsis: The Brutal Truth Jonathan Harnisch is an “artist, dreamer, man on a mission, and human being just like you.” He is also “a deeply troubled and disturbed person,” who lives with schizophrenia, bipolar disorder, post-traumatic stress disorder, and borderline personality disorder. He is committed to sharing his unique life online in order to help others. Through a relentless, direct encounter with his schizophrenic self and thoughts, Harnisch offers a rare insight into this often misunderstood disorder. Extraordinarily, the message is one of resilience and hope, finding rare wisdom through enduring and learning to understand his psychotic episodes. Rather than retreating into his own troubles, Harnisch journeys inside himself in order to understand the humanity that he shares with others: “The strongest people are not those who show strength in front of the world but those who fight and win battles that others do not know anything about.”For all its fearless honesty, The Brutal Truth is throughout an affirmation of life. As Harnisch says, “I write and publish what I want and what I feel, no matter what mood or state of mind I am in, but I always do my best to keep things positive.” After all, he knows that he is “a legitimate, loving, grateful, and spiritual human being who deserves to be loved and accepted and who deserves to make decisions, to make mistakes, and to be forgiven.” The Brutal Truth shows that it is by acknowledging the schizophrenic experience that we can come to understand and deal with it. Harnisch’s essays offer daring descriptions of what it is like to live—moment upon moment—with schizophrenia. These essays are written to help others undergoing mental disorders. They will also help those who want to better understand what their loved ones are going through so that they can help them more effectively and more compassionately. But these essays are not just for those affected by psychiatric disorders. All readers will feel enriched after spending time with Harnisch in this extraordinary and too often untold schizophrenic world. As Harnisch says, “We schizophrenics, through our psychosis—our delusions, our hallucinations, our reality—create or develop a story.” Seldom has the schizophrenic story been told with such unflinching honesty and truth. Outline: The Brutal TruthThe Brutal Truth consists of 13 essays that shed light on the day-to-day experience of living with schizophrenia.I Have Schizophrenia, but Schizophrenia Does Not Have MeEven though we all have our battles and our bad days, this does not mean that we have a bad life. Harnisch describes his realisation that the ultimate goal that he is striving for, as a person living with acute mental disorders, is independence. He refuses to be controlled by his illness.The Brutal Truth: Where Am I?Of the things you lose as a schizophrenic, it is the mind that you miss the most. Harnisch describes his search for solitude, walking away from life to find peace but being unable to escape the past or his day-to-day problems. The truth must be spoken, however savage that may be: “You do not want to feel what I feel.”ThanksHere Harnisch thanks his readers, especially his online mental health advocacy community, which has proved to be his “trapeze net” on his schizophrenic flights.Getting Through an EpisodeHarnisch is an unemployed artist with “a life that, in terms of conventional reality, doesn’t actually exist.” And so he creates a “double self” made up of his delusions. This double self allows him to experience a reality that substitutes for the uncomfortable truths he prefers not to acknowledge. It allows him to not be himself.If You Are Going Through Hell, Keep GoingIf you hang in there long enough, things will change for the better. In Harnisch’s case, a severe psychotic break was required for him to finally get the right help. Whatever our hand in life, we must discover our worth: “what we give to the world and what the world gives to us.” Harnisch cannot escape schizophrenia, but he can make it his friend. By altering his perspective on suffering, he learns that even though he still struggles, he no longer suffers.It's Coming to Get Me: The Voices of ParanoiaIf you are afflicted with paranoia, you know, wholeheartedly, that these are not delusions. People areharassing you. People are jealous of you. By now, Harnisch is able to see that his paranoid beliefs are “only the schizophrenia,” but “it’s for damn sure the truth and as frightening as all hell.”Living with Psychosis: Living in ShameNothing is more terrifying than battling your own mind every day. Harnisch’s accounts of his psychotic episodes are evidence of his resilience and ability to survive. But he asks people who don’t understand the first thing about him and his delusional reality to stop expecting “normal” from him: “We all know it is never going to happen.”People with Depression Cannot “Snap Out of It”It is difficult to be told that you “inspire” others so long as you remain depressed. Harnisch knows that hewill get out of this depressed state. But it won’t be right now. People with depression cannot “snap out of it.” But they can know hope.Addiction and SchizophreniaFacing an addiction is a scary encounter with the self—especially if your reality is schizophrenic. Quitting smoking is a battle that Harnisch knows he must fight peacefully. He is a warrior and a survivor. He should be able to do this. It is a common enough struggle, but there is nothing common about how this feels.The Delusional Thinking Process: To the Victor Go the SpoilsHarnisch describes his latest episode of delusion and paranoia, seeking to demystify what has happened in his mind so that he can learn how to cope even better next time. As he digs more deeply into “the vulnerabilities of psychosis,” he discovers that his delusions are for the most part rooted in a grain of truth.When Delusions Are Real: The Schizophrenic ExperienceHow can people diagnosed with psychotic disorders get people to believe their truths? After all, once you’ve been diagnosed as being psychotic, your credibility is never the same. Harnisch reveals what his illness has taken from him, including recognition for his accomplishments. He puts together pieces of the “shattered stained glass” of schizophrenia, attempting to describe what is usually dismissed as “indescribable.” He explains the often mystical schizophrenic experience of reality, which those who seek to help them need to understand.When Things Get BetterIn this essay Harnisch calls for positivity, love, and gratitude even as he struggles “through the minefield—the deep darkness and confusion—that is schizophrenia.” It is by embracing even our darkest experiences that we are able to strengthen ourselves for the journey.Writing Therapy: Easy Does itHarnisch describes the metamorphosis that led him from the pursuit of fame to using writing as therapy—to heal. Through writing, he fights for his mind every day and is able to come to a clearer perspective on life. “We all have problems, but let's not kid ourselves! It's how we deal with them that makes the difference.” "I don't know what I'm doing anymore. I don't know what I want to see. My world use to be worth living for, and now it's hard enough just to be me." — Jonathan Harnisch, Author

The Brutal Truth [Abridged First Edition] by Jonathan Harnisch - Halloween 2015

Synopsis: The Brutal TruthJonathan Harnisch is an “artist, dreamer, man on a mission, and human being just like you.” He is also “a deeply troubled and disturbed person,” who lives with schizophrenia, bipolar disorder, post-traumatic stress disorder, and borderline personality disorder. He is committed to sharing his unique life online in order to help others. Through a relentless, direct encounter with his schizophrenic self and thoughts, Harnisch offers a rare insight into this often misunderstood disorder. Extraordinarily, the message is one of resilience and hope, finding rare wisdom through enduring and learning to understand his psychotic episodes. Rather than retreating into his own troubles, Harnisch journeys inside himself in order to understand the humanity that he shares with others: “The strongest people are not those who show strength in front of the world but those who fight and win battles that others do not know anything about.”For all its fearless honesty, The Brutal Truth is throughout an affirmation of life. As Harnisch says, “I write and publish what I want and what I feel, no matter what mood or state of mind I am in, but I always do my best to keep things positive.” After all, he knows that he is “a legitimate, loving, grateful, and spiritual human being who deserves to be loved and accepted and who deserves to make decisions, to make mistakes, and to be forgiven.”The Brutal Truth shows that it is by acknowledging the schizophrenic experience that we can come to understand and deal with it. Harnisch’s essays offer daring descriptions of what it is like to live—moment upon moment—with schizophrenia. These essays are written to help others undergoing mental disorders. They will also help those who want to better understand what their loved ones are going through so that they can help them more effectively and more compassionately. But these essays are not just for those affected by psychiatric disorders. All readers will feel enriched after spending time with Harnisch in this extraordinary and too often untold schizophrenic world. As Harnisch says, “We schizophrenics, through our psychosis—our delusions, our hallucinations, our reality—create or develop a story.” Seldom has the schizophrenic story been told with such unflinching honesty and truth.

Halloween Film 2015 | Beautiful Nightmare HD | Jonathan Harnisch

Hello again friends and fans! Working on BEAUTIFUL NIGHTMARE was primarily influenced by challenging myself to be okay with the gifts of imperfection, artistic imperfection, to be more precise, leaving some intentionally undone otherwise perfectionistic creative choices; my goal was to not overdo or over produce the film or soundtrack edits on this particular project. I completed this short film on Valentine’s Day 2015 feeling rather incomplete at the same time extremely satisfied and proud. Aside from THE MORNING AFTER in late 2014 which within its first 3 weeks upon upload tops my all time most popular films on Vimeo Pro, I have borrowed some footage from the vault of 2 of my Academy qualifying films, WAX and ON THE BUS, both featured on international television, and with the slightest hint of THE MORNING AFTER in the background in order to produce a rather creepily but intentionally disordered dream, if you will, of my past successes in cinema, while incorporating themes as parallel lives, masochistic tendencies in sexual escapades, and disturbing clarities embellished with addiction, fetish, lust, and love while evoking a dancing laughter at the past in order to come to terms with it, and bring it back, incorporating a perhaps occasional “neonic shock,” but more so evoking heightened elation and sadness. Once again, my hope overall is to force you to step back and question your own version of reality. I am an artist of many media, namely film, experimental music, and literature and I suffer from a rare comorbid form of schizophrenia, which has blessed me with many creative gifts. I hope you enjoy this example of inherent beauty in BEAUTIFUL NIGHTMARE. I never forget those who have inspired me over the years and I am eternally grateful, learning who I am and what I believe in and stand for lately with the films I have been competing on Vimeo Pro over the 5 or so years past now. Thank you, with love, from Jonathan Harnisch.

Living with Psychosis | Living in Shame by Jonathan Harnisch

First, a cheek up from the neck up: State: manic, season? Dream. I shake and twitch. My nose rune, IO am freezing., The temperature is 85 degrees Fahrenheit with the heater and fire on. I feel high, in haste, pressured with a sense of urgency and optimistic, stress, stress, stress, and extremely irritable, unrealistic in general, not worthy, manic, depressed, mixed up, confused, sleeping very little, but feeling extremely energetic. I wrote and talk so rapidly that others can’t keep up. My thoughts, beliefs and ideas race, as do the voices in my head. Everything, mainly my thoughts jump quickly from one idea to the next. Ugh, necessary urgency, manic, manic, manic. Bipolar, schizophrenia, schizoaffective, Storms swirl sadistically creatively. I know they are not good enough I have do better. in my head, my room and my life. I’m scared of my own death, chain smoking, drinking water, water and more water. I am at distracted by all of the noise in this silent office here at midnight. I can’t concentrate,. I feel fragmented and disconnected to myself. I feel worthless unapologetic. Impulsive. It’ll pass. It’ll pass. I know. It will. I write this recklessly. My thoughts skip a beat,. I’m a recluse. I know for a fact that my delusions and hallucinations have returned. I speak into the cell phone, voice texting this piece. Editing too much. Overdoing it. Writing, more and more. Not enough….Time passes. I come upon my 40th year. Time passes so quickly these days. The prognosis of my schizophrenia spectrum disorder progresses as my cognitive abilities decline. Life is an intimate and somewhat private stage. The Internet is a public and global stage that is written in ink, not pencil. There is a curtain that always remains open.Time passes. Time goes ... where?“I’ve always loved the night, when everyone else is asleep and the world is all mine. It’s quiet and dark—the perfect time for creativity.” —Jonathan Harnisch, Porcelain Utopia.I forget the rest. I just don’t care anymore. But, the sad part is I actually do.Love me, hate me, hurt me, or kill me. But I keep fighting.In a recent review in Foreword Reviews—known as “THE indie books magazine”—of one of my novels, perhaps my legacy, Jonathan Harnisch: An Alibiography, Alex Franks, in an excellent critique, writes: “Mental illness is romanticized at points in the text, as well, which may leave some familiar with the realities with an unsavory taste. That's not to say the work isn't well written—it's carefully plotted with well-rendered characters, presented in a narrative that would appropriately be deemed ‘schizophrenic.’” To romanticize, we must deal with an event in an idealized or unrealistic fashion; make something seem better or more appealing than it really is. I must have been having a good day when writing those “romanticized” parts. But, Jesus, sometimes I know of no other way to cope, I suppose. The illness sucks. Schizophrenia sucks. And right now I think I suck. I’m sick. I am very sick. I was simply taking a nap in the house, and my so-to-speak real life is fully delusional. At any rate, all the negative things, as my psychiatrist reminds me daily, are hallucinations or delusions. I am turning into my own book in many respects, and I still do not accept my mental health condition overall, not being able to tell what is real and what is not real, while my thinking, behavior, and mood are also altered. I think that in itself presents a large problem—most of my problems. I will be around. I hope I will be working, not sleeping. I don't know. As the day continues, I will try my best for you because I trust you, and I think you know that I would like your thoughts on things at some point. I understand many of the things I ask others to do are simply unrealistic or out of your jurisdiction, maybe. I just don't know how to wing it, while at the same time we must never mind typos. I don't know what I'm saying. I have no clue, though life is just impossible. I have to have a plan. I can't make one. I have nothing. If you have a full hour until one o'clock, feel free to leave messages of any kind. I just have nothing to say. Blah, blah, blah... Too many problems to discuss, and they change—with additions and deletions. For example, this morning. And then not later in the morning. And then now, which means it has changed three times already. I believe I am not real and that nothing is real, not even that thought. All I do is hurt people. I am often ashamed of myself, mostly when I am around other people in any way at all. And I think I'm brilliant, and I talk too much, and I don't talk at all. I'm a complete waste, a failure, a miserable miscreant, and then it changes back-and-forth, back-and-forth, back-and-forth. You can see I'm trying to communicate, and I just can't. Anyway I am safe. I am not suicidal. As usual, I’m sure many are concerned, though nobody is here or there. I don't care. This has already taken me 40 minutes to write. It sounds scary, and sometimes it is. Sometimes it isn't. Everything is in black and white right now. I just don't care about a thing. I have no idea what is going on, if anything at all. I lie, I cheat, I steal, and I use people. I'm a goodhearted person, I am smart, I am a creative, I am successful, I am wealthy, and I have my good times. Simply, in three words: "I don't know." But somehow I seem to get through it.The sad part is that I can't help it.The curtain opens again.“Oh no, not him again. Not Jonathan. Not Harnisch,” a chorus of voices chants in lyrical beats and a rhythmic tempo in my head. It’s perfect. It suits me fine and fittingly so. I am hidden. Hidden beneath my meticulously cluttered desk covered in piles of books sits a frozen, mysterious, mosaic-eyed man in a tattered brown-and-yellow plaid suit. His thick salt-and-pepper hair is shaggy and mussed, his face unshaven, and his demeanor disheveled. His name is Jonathan Harnisch. Oh, that is me again. I can’t get away from myself. Already up all night and day, and onto something else, something new. Something. I invite you to take what you want and leave the rest of this essay, as with any of my work for that matter. I must apologize in advance, for I am having a bit of an episode and feel bitter, groggy, and, I might add, narcissistic—deriving from no self-esteem, perhaps. I am once again out of bed and inspired. I think. We’ll see if it comes across. That seems strange to me. My introduction. As my father would say, bizarre and odd, and perhaps it makes him look bad since he is a public figure. I am sorry, Pops. This is about me and perhaps about my readers. I have no idea how this is coming out. Just write. If I lose a thought, I’ll grab hold of something else and run with that. God bless my scattered thoughts. I am leaving them in this writing without revision. And now, the Great John Nash. I mean, Jonathan. Yes, that guy. The same person as last time. Different but the same. Strange. To begin with my first unavoidable non sequitur, since I can’t seem to think straight without sleep. 72 hours now. People are strange. No I didn’t say that. Someone else did, I think. “How was that for an introduction?” I ask myself, but I hear no response. I often do. But I have always believed that anyone, yes, anyone suffering from any type of mental illness is one badass mother f’*er. Nothing is more terrifying than battling with your own mind every single day. So, get ready for this. It may not be for the faint of heart. While promoting one of my novels, I was known to say, regarding the comparison of my work to Alasdair Gray's 1982, Janine—a challenging book about power and powerlessness, men and women, masters and servants, small countries and big countries—that this sexploration of the politics of pornography has lost none of its power to shock. This is a searing portrait of male need and inadequacy, as explored via the lonely sexual fantasies of the character in all my work and most of my real life. I am not here to promote my work. I have simply been starting to believe and see my entire life as entirely and seamlessly in sequence with the story of my otherwise fictionalized autobiography. How pretentious of me, a Dostoevsky would likely say in criticism. One of my literary heroes. But in line with the stream of fragmented thought I’m know for… I am a failed husband, lover, and businessman. Yet there is hope that I can use the literary playground of my wildly eccentric mind and reality as an author and all-around artist, dreamer, man on a mission, and human being just like you that also suffers—like all of us, in one way or another—to some degree. The author (oui, c'est moi, l'auteur, the third person) laughs as he writes this, but hey, we're all for sale in some way. But actually, I'm all over the place. I'm in my head, my imagination, and my moment—comfortable here (comfortable nowhere). Have I already lost you? Awesome! Keep reading. I do what I do, as they say, and I change. All the time, often taking delight in the touchy topic of madness, for example, in this brand new, raw, brutally honest, and extremely palpable psychiatric thriller that is part fiction and part truth and is featured in Publishers Weekly and Writer's Digest, among other literary publications—by controversial mental health advocate, Jonathan Harnisch (Jonathan Harnisch: An Alibiography (2014); Second Alibi: The Banality of Life (2014); Sex, Drugs, and Schizophrenia (2014); Living Colorful Beauty (2015)). Ah, another reality begins slipping in. I am aware, I think. Maybe? Possibly. Maybe it’s me, maybe it’s the mental illness, and maybe it’s nothing. Random rules! Ah, an oxymoron! I love it. Another illogical non sequitur? How many? I think I have already lost track. I’m still finding myself. What is the sad part? That is what I wonder. Whether by the end there is some sort of whimper or bang that resonates? Bordering on brilliant, I love this. Mania. Sleep deprivation. Stuff. Myself. I admit it, I won’t defend myself. I don’t. Usually. I’d rather find reality, as it slips away otherwise, every day. Lost. My lost thought. Lost? Yes. I talk to myself. Even in my writing, my jibber jabber. The voice in my head is telling me now. I take dictation, as fragmented as it is: “You’re nothing but a waling cliché.” I won’t argue with that. I think the voices often tell me the truth. I love my alter egos and my double self—not a multiple personality, I must emphasize. Recognized as such, in my Alibi. Ben, Georgie, Tom, Claudia, Heidi, Kelly, and so forth, my friends... (Fragment. Should I reconsider or break the rules of grammar? I choose the latter. I finished school. I write how I want these days, indeed. I am Jonathan Harnisch, the fragmented stream-of-thought, delusional, self-stigmatizing, at times self-loathing, four-times #1 Amazon bestselling author and #1 writer of hot new releases under the subject of schizophrenia. He introduces his ("Yours?" asks Dr. C, in my throbbing, labyrinthine head), yes, my, debut novel. Perhaps my pièce de résistance, Jonathan Harnisch: An Alibiography is now being taught at the university level for its inspiration and vivid feelings of a disturbed reality, which is sometimes disquieting and at other times harsh. And with real emotions! It is culture-bearing, brazen, and bordering on brilliant—bam! Here she is, for 10 bucks (US), with all royalties donated to charity through the Jonathan Harnisch Foundation. Boom! Lover in the Nobody, where Ben Schreiber (voila, c'est moi, c'est Jonathan!) has Tourette's syndrome that causes him to display uncontrollable tics and hops, stuttering and swearing inappropriately. Bullied throughout his school years, he can never form firm friendships, especially with women. He's simply incapable of happiness. In his late twenties, he plunges into a downward spiral of drug and alcohol abuse that culminates in an attempted bank robbery using a cell phone as a fake bomb. He is arrested and placed under psychiatric evaluation, where his psychiatrist, Dr. C, quickly sees that Ben's affliction is more than just Tourette's. Ben is not alone. Inside his head lives Georgie Gust, Ben's alter ego. Georgie is obsessed with his manipulative and extremely sexual next-door neighbor Claudia Nesbitt and shares a sadomasochistic relationship with her that is supported only in his obsession. Claudia has no love for Georgie, and while Ben desperately searches for someone, Claudia Nesbitt, the perfect woman, is able to provide him with the unconditional love that he never received as a boy. He finds it easier to retreat into his mind and to share George's sick obsession with the cruel and abusive Claudia than to deal with his real issues. Dr. C senses that Ben is suffering from some type of post-traumatic stress that occurred early in his childhood and that he is using Georgie as an escape whenever bad memories start to surface. It is up to Dr. C to help Ben face the buried terrors of his childhood so that he can finally let go of Georgie and reduce him to the literary character that writer Ben wants him to be. Alas, if you don't have this book in your library or classroom, what do you have? Get your copy now!P.S. I never said I was "normal." I suffer and move on. I laugh and cry. I write it all out and never give up. Sending light and love, from me, Mr. J.I'm lost. I don't know what to do with my life. I don't know what I'm doing anymore. I don't know what I want to see. My world used to be worth living for, and now it's hard enough just to be me.Those who have experienced psychosis are stigmatized in our society, and those with schizophrenia are highly attuned to stigma. I live with both, and my life is spent living in my own way within the comorbid schizophrenia spectrum—with medical support, psychiatric and therapeutic help, and the work I do on my own to battle the symptoms and episodes I experience frequently as my illness falls deeper and deeper into a state of decline. I still have my good days and my bad days.It is interesting for me to look back at these written accounts of the bouts I have had with myself and with schizophrenia—and how I seem to always get through them. To me, that shows resilience. I am proud of that.I am not a motivational speaker. That is not my job. Please understand. I am a deeply troubled and disturbed person. I only write when I am sleep-deprived or symptomatic. I never get writer's block. I never get to sleep. I. I. I… Me. Me. Me… I write and publish what I want and what I feel, no matter what mood or state of mind I am in, but I always do my best to keep things positive. I miss the mark frequently. I love those who speak from their core—truth—whatever it is they feel, expressing every last feeling. I want to thank everyone who continues to stick around with me online. I have no friends in real life and no family. I engage in deep philosophical conversations with store clerks, where turnaround is quick. I see them once or twice at the Quick Fix on Maple Street and then never again. I am a wandering, wondering prophet of sorts. I am an oddball and a weirdo—an eccentric, intricate, lyrically minded creation. A nutcase. I feel at my best writing out my shame, my narcissism, and my delinquency—my insanity. My delusion. My life. I built something, and they came. No, I get to the core. I lose. I am mad. I am real. I am the real deal. Shameless and raw, brazen and careless. Genius. My moods change frequently, and I currently don't know how I feel. I settle for nothing less than the bitter and savagely violent brutal truth. Beyond that, there I am… nothing. There is nothing. I look in the mirror and see a complete stranger. I apologize for my exuberance. No, wait; I don't apologize for going blotto yesterday—for my exuberance. I revel in it. I encourage you to take what you want and leave the rest. Considering my diagnoses with schizophrenia, bipolar disorder, and so forth, blah, a rare blood disease, dyslexia, and cancer, I am doing okay. I keep the hope and move forward, always.Tonight I haven’t slept, again, so here I am back as usual when symptomatic and sleep-deprived to use writing therapy as my tool—my lifeline. I often consider writing in itself as my life. I think all in all it comes down to the fact that other people in my life have all the say in my life and that they have full control of my life, although as I write I realize that this is likely my illness speaking; it is my mind playing tricks on me. I do not have control of my own life, and frankly I do not want control of my life because my mind with schizophrenia feels all too often to determine everything.I won’t settle for anything less than the brutal truth. I'm not excusing myself from this either.I am a troubled man. I am not good. I burn bridges. I can't make my mind up about anything. I can love, but I cannot fall in love. I don't know how to trust. I make more mistakes than I should. I am always sorry, but I never change. I am afraid of letting anyone else in my life get too close to me. If you want to come into my life, the door is open. If you want to get out of my life, the door is open. I have just one request. Don’t stand in the door and block the traffic.Sometimes I see no other way than to let other people go. I remove them and erase them completely from my life because I believe they are toxic to me. If I can, I let them go I remove them completely from my life and do my best not to feel guilty about it. I frequently feel I have no other choice but to them go because they take and take and leave me feeling empty. I let them go when I can because in the ocean of life when all I am trying to do is stay afloat, they are the anchor that drowns me. Unfortunately and perhaps sadly enough when I blame other people, I blame myself. I let go of myself. That is one of the brutal truths about me. I will only settle for the brutal truth. I must also admit in confession that sometimes I look into the mirror. I see a complete stranger.You don’t want to be me.Schizophrenia is a mental disorder often characterized by abnormal social behavior and a failure to recognize what is real. Common symptoms include false beliefs, unclear or confused thinking, auditory hallucinations, reduced social engagement and emotional expression, and lack of motivation.Sometimes I see no other way than to let other people go. I remove them and erase them completely from my life because I believe they are toxic to me. If I can, I let them go. I remove them completely from my life and do my best not to feel guilty about it. Frequently, I feel I have no other choice but to them go because they take and take and leave me feeling empty. I let them go when I can because in the ocean of life, when all I am trying to do is stay afloat, they are the anchors that drown me. Unfortunately, and perhaps sadly, when I blame other people, I blame myself. I let go of myself. That is one of the brutal truths about me. I will only settle for the brutal truth. I must also admit in confession that sometimes I look into the mirror. I see a complete stranger.The saying comes to mind: “People will hate you, rate you, shake you and break you. But how strong you stand is what makes you.” This comes into my mind, penetrating my mind. I must stand. I must keep going. There is light at the end of the tunnel. It’s the damn hallways in between that get in the way. The hallways keep me awake, as I try to find the door and try to keep hope and faith. I have it. I have this. I will never give up. Never, ever. Never say never. “Never!” I kick ass.When given the choice between being right and being kind, choose kindness. People may not tell you how they feel about you, but they will always show you. Pay attention. Spread kindness. Be nice to those around you. If you can't think of anything nice to say, you're not thinking hard enough. Smile at others and start a piggy bank for a cause, keeping your spare change in the piggy bank. When it is full, donate it to a charity of your choice. A sincere smile is a very kind and meaningful way to make a positive difference in someone's day. Without using words, a smile says to a person, "Hi, I hope you have a nice day." Help a child learn. When you look back at your childhood, you can probably name several key people who taught you some of the most important things you know today. You too can be an influential force in a child's life by spending time helping him or her to learn. Though it is a common courtesy to say "Bless you!" when someone sneezes, people rarely do so unless it is someone they know. The next time you hear or see someone sneeze, offer those kind words regardless of whether or not you know the person. And if you have a tissue on hand, offer that, too! Beyond anything else, the hardest part is self-compassion. You need that to do anything for others. That seems to be the hard part, but is the first step. Again, by default, when given the choice between being right and being kind, choose kindness. It will make a huge difference if you can pull it off, one of those easier-said-than-done ideas. I speak from experience. Thank you for reading these thoughts, some of which I have read about from various sources online and in books about kindness. I behave in this way when I can, often going to homeless parks and giving away food from a restaurant whenever I can leave the house. I have been doing so for years and years, and I even wrote a chapter about this in Alibiography, my debut novel—the chapter entitled "Benevolent Georgie." Enjoy your morning, day, or evening, depending wherever you are in your neck of the woods. There is more to come. I find my closure quite amusing. At the same time, in all seriousness, one final thought: that other people who don’t understand the first thing about me and my delusional reality should stop expecting “normal” from me. We all know it is never going to happen. I hope this leaves you with a little laugh, all the while gaining a glimpse into my madness in order to understand or possibly simply consider your own.In closing, maybe the sad part is that I seem not to care anymore; the good part is I actually do.Love me or hate me: I continue delivering this discourse as the unconventional mental health advocate that I believe I am, with quotes galore, schizoaffective disorder, Tourette’s syndrome with Autistic spectrum disorders, and PTSD. And all the rest not otherwise specified. I’m still the same bad-ass author and Hollywood sage with more to come.Until next time, or to quote Jerry Springer of all people, "Till next time, take care of yourselves and each other."I am and will always be Jonathan Harnisch.That is enough for now.The curtain draws shut.You can also find Jonathan on Facebook and Twitter. Author Jonathan Harnisch has written semi-fictional and semi-autobiographical bestselling novels, Jonathan Harnisch: An Alibiography and Second Alibi: The Banality of Life, which are available on Amazon and through most major booksellers. He is also a noted, and sometimes controversial, author, mental-health advocate, fine artist, blogger, podcast host, patent holder, hedge-fund manager, musician, and film and TV writer and producer. Google him for more information.

Thank you! | A Note of Gratitude

First, hello, good day, good morning, and good afternoon everybody! I have so much more to say, and I will do so when it's time and when it happens, even if it might be nothing in particular. I am currently on my cell phone and am still not used to the Facebook app interface just yet, so my apologies for typos and grammar. Second, I invite you to take what you want and leave the rest. Third, I want to respond to those very few who have not been so kind to me on my Facebook page. That is fine, and I forgive you. I appreciate you, in fact, and to an extent I love you. You're welcome to unlike or leave my Facebook page, but I will not ban you. I have been awake for four days straight now and working hard on many projects and on my fight with my very mature health conditions. I think that we all as humans can relate to this in some way or not. I have only one goal these days for anything that I write, whether the books that people pay for or this kind of free material. The truth. I don't care about money. I don't need likes. I don't need followers. I don't need appreciation. However, I have to write. Love me, hate me, or simply leave me, I post only what I feel is the brutal truth, which includes negative posts as well as positive ones.I could lose everything at the drop of a hat. I understand that I have things under control overall. I have the help of money from a very large estate that has been used to set up a private psychiatric hospital setting for me. I have the ability to afford that. That is something to be very grateful for. Forgive me. I'm not upset with you. I've just been awake for a long time. I'm working on a great deal of things while manic. I have nothing to lose. I just want to thank you all for your likes and comments—especially your comments and messages supporting and encouraging me. You have all been in your own way a sincere and solid rock of support—what I like to call my trapeze net. I feel I can count on you. I’m not here to slander or to hate—nothing like that. If anything, I end up hating myself. Again I post what I want, how I feel, and what I believe in—literally whatever is going on in my life at any given current moment. It's off-the-cuff rock and roll, raw and candid, and I am an open book. I have nothing to lose when it comes down to it. Besides, I have already lost everything over and over again. I went from living in a $75 million house to being homeless. That is not a delusion. Go ahead and judge me, if you wish. I want to thank you all for everything that you have been doing for me. My Facebook page has been turning out so differently from what I otherwise would have expected. I used to be very active on Twitter. I lost a great deal, having been hacked once—rather, twice—I'm sorry anyway. I tried to get back to everyone I could, and honestly I can't keep it up. I want to thank you all for keeping up with me. We all live our own lives. We all live through our own battles. We all come through in the end, no matter what happens to us. OK? No matter what happens to us. Yes, I've been through a great deal. I continue to go through a great deal. When I say I have nothing to lose, I say it because that is how I know for a fact that I am able to post and write whatever I like—and that is exactly and precisely what I do. This has always been my goal since I began writing as a child—for example, my first book of 25 pages published when I was five-years old. My moods, my symptoms, myself, my sense of identity if that makes sense—these change like a chameleon, coming back and forth, blah, blah, blah. Jonathan (me). I could go on and on, but this is a post about being grateful to each and every one of you. I am voice texting this on my iPhone, but I hope it reaches the right people. I do really appreciate that the majority of you have stayed with me. I always feel the need to apologize. That's just me. I feel a bit aggressive right now, but what is going on is actually something passionate. I'm passionate about health. I'm passionate about recovery. I'm passionate about trying my best to get back to being 30 years old again, as my life has been cut short due to certain physical issues that I don't post much about at all. To be plain and simple, thanks to each and every one of you. To those of you who leave, I learned from you more than you might ever imagine. Thank you, guys, again. Enjoy the day. Onward bound! P.S. I did some writing therapy to get through a rather psychotic morning. I intend to post some of it soon if I am able. My day is rather booked with meetings and doctor visits—again living through another day… There is, of course, more to come. This is all coming from your friend and partner in life online through thick and thin. Can I kick this? Yes I can. Overall. In the meantime, each of us fight our own battles and in a way are trying to save our own lives in some way or another. Let’s keep doing this. What do you say?— Jonathan Harnisch

Letting Go

Sometimes I see no other way than to let other people go. I remove them and erase them completely from my life because I believe they are toxic to me. If I can I let them go I remove them completely from my life and do my best not to feel guilty about it. Frequently I feel I have no other choice but to them go because they take and take and leave me feeling empty. I let them go when I can because in the ocean of life when all I am trying to do is stay afloat, they are the anchor that drowns me. Unfortunately and perhaps sadly enough when I blame other people, I blame myself. I let go of myself. That is one of the brutal truths about me. I will only settle for the brutal truth. I must also admit in confession that sometimes I look into the mirror. I see a complete stranger.— Jonathan Harnisch     

Writing Therapy: An Example of How Easy Does it by Jonathan Harnisch

Let's get the facts straight up front to avoid any confusion later. I am a person first, a human being, just like anyone else. Maybe a little different, that's all. Years ago, I publicly disclosed my diagnoses with comorbid schizoaffective disorder, post-traumatic stress disorder, personality disorder NOS (not otherwise specified), and Tourette's syndrome. One might argue that I have been dealt quite a handful of cards and put through the ringer. Maybe it's just the luck of the draw, or maybe it's not luck at all. But some time ago, when I felt internally trapped and suffocated and hiding all my inner demons (as I call them) while secretly writing about them, it simply grabbed hold of me, and boy did it grab hold. I had made seven suicide attempts and had over 30 hospitalizations and addiction rehabilitation stints within a decade. Then, one day, I just made a choice. It felt like the sun smacked my face, allowing my mind, my experiences, and my altered sense of reality to burn, twist, deform, and coil. I am referring to a metamorphosis, which had taken place inside me. I looked into the mirror where everything came alive--my delusions, my dreams were burying everything within reality as I experienced it. Now, I no longer saw impossibility in the mirror. My imagination ignited once again. I kept staring at my reflection. My delusions of grandeur formed a shape on their own in my reflection, in my double reality, if you will, not a multiple personality, which is one of many myths surrounding schizophrenia. Within the depths of my mind and psyche my imagination began to dream while awake. In short, the metamorphosis occurring inside caused me to begin my mission, exploiting all that I had kept buried inside for far too long, letting loose all my secret weariness of suffocation of and derailments from the truth, my truth. I opened up, raw, unabashed, facing perhaps my hugest fear. I went public with my mental health conditions. One morning, I awakened for the day at midnight and was unable to think clearly, concentrate, or remember much of anything. I dove into my art, my work, my life purpose of productivity, but I couldn't concentrate. Growing more and more upset with myself, I felt a very familiar stinging sense of shame and disapproval. My thoughts, my executive function deficit, were askew along with my condition. My morning writing session had gone awry, at least at first. This happens to be a part of my morning writing session. My concentration had been thrown off, and an overload of stimuli within the silence of my home office frustrated me. I took a hot shower to ground myself, which often does the trick, and then returned to writing. At this point, the original thesis or subject of my words shifted with my thoughts, and that suited me just fine. Earlier I had been overcome, irritated beyond belief, mentally physically and perhaps spiritually too, by my role of being an artist, which is commonly known to involve, for example, my latest novel Jonathan Harnisch: An Alibiography, my masterpiece. However, the point to my sitting at my desk began to metamorphose on its own. That's one thing I love about writing and writing therapy--how it helps me. It keeps things simple, and it helps my thinking become clearer. Being a mainstream literary author is known to be 50 percent writing and 50 percent marketing, and it was the business aspect, the marketing, that ripped at my soul. At least that was how I felt. I felt defeated. While writing therapy is a tool I take quite seriously, perhaps I was not upset with the onslaught of internal difficulties, my own goal of being the best, being on the best seller list; that doesn't matter any longer, and that's not why I write. I write for therapy, and that is why I keep fighting my mental health condition, my mind, every single day, because I can overcome the demons, the delusion, and the distractions. Perhaps this morning my cognitive behavioral therapist would have reminded me that my mind plays tricks on me, or that we all suffer in some way from cognitive distortions. He would remind me of how cognitive distortions and living with mental illness can take its toll on interpersonal relationships. After all, I believe we are all in the same boat in many ways. And it comes down to something very clichéd yet entirely true. We all have problems, but let's not kid ourselves, it's how we deal with them that makes the difference. I ponder on what the difference is. In my question, I see the answer. I see my self-confident smile once again. Relationships with family and friends have faded and deteriorated in my world, and then just the opposite occurs, sometimes at the drop of a hat. I am grateful for living on a mental roller coaster and not a merry-go-round. My illnesses make me unusual as I said, and sometimes I think we all just need to give ourselves a time out to be alone for a bit simply to figure some things out. Usually, we can see a problem in a new way when we focus our eyes some place new. That's what the past hour has taught me. It's good. Good enough. Realistically, things may not be as bad as they seem. Sometimes another perspective on distressing matters can help. I see it as my task, perhaps our collective task, to be resilient even if some days we just have to be there for ourselves when we are feeling alone in the enterprise. We move on. There's no way around it. I ask myself now if I feel okay, and the smile is back. Thank goodness. One last note, I've often doubted my abilities and my perception of my reality by fearing others and feeling myself withdrawing and going inside, losing hope of coming back to myself with any peace of mind. The future, that's not where I am; I'm right here in the now. Katherine Hepburn once said, "If you obey all of the rules, you miss all of the fun." I apply that to writing and writing therapy, as well. 

When Things Get Better by Jonathan Harnisch

“We all have problems, but let's not kid ourselves: it's how we deal with them that makes the difference. … Don't let people make you feel bad or guilty for living your life. It is your life. Live it the way you want.”  ~Anon.As a survivor of severe trauma that led to dissociative disorders and schizophrenia, I hope to inspire courage and resilience in others with these problems. I post and publish what I feel, no matter what mood or state of mind I’m in, but I always do my best to keep things positive. I admire people who maintain a positive attitude even when they’re having bad days. We all have our battles, but that doesn't mean we have bad lives. A negative mindset will keep you from having a good life. The world suffers a lot due to the silence of good people. Keep going! Keep hope and faith alive! Everyone’s struggles are real, but this is why I support talking about mental health.Today I endured my most symptom-filled morning in months if not years. I have severe schizophrenia. It's all in my mind, of course, and yes, you could say my mind is “diseased.” But it’s not like I can return it to the brain exchange or something.Anyhow, my favorite band is Duran Duran, and today I finally decided to take a break from listening to their song “Too Close to the Sun” on repeat and chain smoking while taking in a ton of fluids. My projected lifespan has been shorted by 30 years, and I just turned 40 in January, so I’m working hard to leave a legacy of what I hope is brilliant art, as that is the gift I was born with and it has been a blessing. Thank God, though, I’ve lost the capacity for off-the-charts IQ and such as my health declines overall. My point is to live in the moment. Right now, I am playing “Too Close to the Sun” on my iPhone, and it’s not saving my life, but it does soothe my mind. It’s what I have but also what I need. In a way, it’s what I am, if that makes sense; it is a temporary relief from the chaos in my mind. Right now, I feel one thing: relief. Thank you, Lord God.I am crying now, alone, out of bittersweet joy because, as I work on in my novel. I will disclose its title in this post, as I know now that it, not my “Alibiography,” is my legacy; it’s called, “When We Were Invincible.” I actually wrote it in 1995, during the summer between my senior year of high school and freshman year of college. In it, there is a scene in which the main character is captivated by a portrait of Christ on the Baltic Sea, and he hears Him saying, “How could you have forgotten me?” He comes of age shortly afterward.And that’s what has happened since I wrote the book. I forgot about God. He won’t cure me, but He has been there all this time for me. I’m crying tears of bittersweet joy. I remember Him. I will forget at times. I understand, however, and I feel relieved right now as Simon Le Bon says, “All you need is now.” It’s a good line, so naturally it’s the title of the track and the album. Amen. Last night, I decided to express myself using my many creative outlets, podcasting. The theme for the cast came to me straight away: “When Things Get Tough in Life.” I could have gone with the title “Stigma,” though, once I was well into what I recorded. I’m not particularly proud of the cast’s content. It was one of two I’ve been unhappy with in the roughly 200 or so episodes I’ve made for a rather wide audience. My audience members are primarily people seeking self-help, motivation, inspiration, etc. They are likely the reason I’m here, as they give my life purpose, regardless of how or where I express and share my unconditional love with those who need it most. Sometimes I even just visualize love and light and simply send it spiritually.Of course, I’ve felt cornered and victimized before too. To be frank, I don’t feel such things often. I vent verbally, so now I’m writing through the morning. I feel as if what I write is channeled through me from some divine entity. I tend, in my healing process, to shy away from topics like religion, government, and conspiracies, as I’ve learned that these topics make me susceptible to delusional thinking, which could eventually lead me to experience a schizophrenic break from reality—something that hasn’t happened to me in years.I have learned that when people are rude they are revealing who they are, not who I am, so I do my best not to take it personally. I have learned when everything seems to be going wrong to take a minute and remind myself of everything going right and not to dwell on those who let me down but to cherish those who lift me up. I prayed this morning. I have not done so in years. I said, “Lord, today I ask that you bathe those who live in pain in the river of your healing. Amen.” I am proud of this because it put my mind at ease. Positivity always wins, as do love and gratitude. These truths escape me at times, but I believe they are part of why I continue to survive, struggling, not suffering, through the minefield—the deep darkness and confusion—that is schizophrenia.Perhaps I am stronger than I think. Perhaps I am even afraid of my strength and turn it against myself, thus making myself weaker, making myself insecure, making myself feel guilty. Perhaps I am most afraid of God’s strength in me. Perhaps I would rather be guilty and weaker than strong in Him whom I cannot understand.This whole thought process began recently when I learned I was nearing the end of my struggle. I confronted my father for all the harm he’d caused over the past several decades. It has been a challenge, to say the least, but I am proud I spoke my mind to my father. I felt it was a necessary part of my healing process.As they say, sometimes you have to be your own hero.This day is brand new. This moment is fresh and clean. The future is a blank canvas waiting to receive the lives we’ll create. Life is full of twists and turns that often derail the best of souls. Resolve in this moment to continue your journey by honoring the gifts God’s given you. If you have fallen off the path, decide to reestablish that connection to whatever fills your heart with gladness. It is never too late to realize your soul’s purpose. Do not let “time” fool you into a state of despair. You have the ability to reunite with your true self.But the question is how?By embracing all your experiences (yes, even the bad ones), you can strengthen yourself for the journey and ensure that this time there’s a better outcome. Appreciate the difficult times, for they often set your life back on track. Appreciate what you’ve set in motion, while taking your mind, heart, and soul to the next level of participation. Appreciate the day in the moment. Dwelling in the past makes it difficult to build your future. If you have pushed the proverbial boulder uphill without a struggle appreciate your own tenacity. If you have tried for a long time to push that same boulder uphill and still haven’t succeeded, examine the worth of the boulder, not your own.Sometimes it’s better to let go, allowing the boulder to roll back down the hill and find someone else to push it. This releases you to travel up the hill with ease alone. Fill your moments with expectations, for when you reach the top of the hill there will be unlimited opportunity. You might find the boulder really wasn’t necessary at all and the important moment was your feeling of freedom.Appreciate that feeling.Though I have contemplated many things since publishing my last essay, there are a few thoughts I feel are worth sharing. I collect such thoughts and place them in what I call my “mental toolbox” or “mental first-aid kit.” This works for me.Every time I get upset about something, I ask myself, if I were to die tomorrow would it have been worth wasting my time being angry about it. I let that sink in. … Today will never come again. Be a blessing; be a friend; encourage someone; take the time to care and let your words heal, not wound.“The strongest people are not those who show strength in front of us, but those who win battles we know nothing about.” ~Anon. I feel better and stronger now as I await my end. I am strong enough to carry the world on my shoulders. I am stronger than the challenges I face.So I smile. And my smile might be worth a thousand words, but sometimes, it seems its value is even greater. A simple smile creates its own silent message. In many cases, a smile takes on a specific meaning because of the surroundings, or context, in which it occurs. As a popular quote goes, “Just because a person is always smiling doesn't mean he has no problems. ... But the smile shows he has ability to overcome those problems.” And, in closing, I’ll leave you with something I once wrote: “How simple it is to acknowledge that all the worry in the world can’t control the future. How simple it is to see that we can only be happy now, and that there will never be a time that isn’t now.” ~Jonathan Harnisch, Jonathan Harnisch: An Autobiography