Day 3750, what is the difference?

Daily picture, Quotes

Prompt: Where did the word dumb come from?

The English word dumb originally had nothing to do with intelligence. It meant unable to speak.

It comes from Old English dumb (pronounced roughly “doom”), meaning mute, silent, unable to speak. This in turn comes from the Proto-Germanic word dumbaz, which had the same meaning.

You can see related words in other Germanic languages:

  • Old Norse: dumbr – mute
  • Old High German: tumb – mute, dull
  • German: dumm – stupid (the meaning shifted)
  • Dutch: dom – stupid

Interestingly, English and Dutch took different paths:

  • In Old English, dumb continued to mean “mute” for centuries. Expressions like deaf and dumb referred to people who could not speak (though this is now considered outdated and often offensive because many deaf people are not mute).
  • Around the 18th and 19th centuries, dumb began to acquire the figurative meaning “slow-witted” or “stupid.” The idea seems to have been that someone who could not answer or speak appeared unintelligent, even though there is no real connection.
  • In Dutch and German, that semantic shift happened much earlier. Dutch dom and German dumm almost entirely lost the original meaning of “mute” and came to mean “stupid.”

This kind of semantic shift is common. Words describing physical conditions often develop figurative meanings. For example:

  • blind → “blind to the facts”
  • deaf → “deaf to criticism”
  • dumb → “stupid”

So the original sense of dumb was simply silent or unable to speak. The modern meaning of stupid is a much later development.

Day 3751, solitude.

Daily picture, Quotes

Friedrich Nietzsche

Daybreak
Book V

491 Another reason for solitude!– A: So you intend to return to your desert?- B: I am not quick moving, I have to wait for myself- it is always late before the water comes to light out of the well of my self, and I often have to endure thirst for longer than I have patience. That is why I go into solitude- so as not to drink out ofeverybody’s cistern. When I am among the many I live as the many do, and I do not think as I really think; after a time it always seems as though they want to banish me from myself and rob me of my soul – and I grow angry with everybody and fear everybody. I then require the desert, so as to grow good again.

Day 3745, bipolar disorder.

Bipolar Disorder, Daily picture

For 25 years now, I have lived with the diagnosis of bipolar disorder. They call it a disorder, but for me, nothing much has changed. It is just order for me. I don’t know better. I don’t know better because I have always lived with myself, and due to circumstances, my bipolar side was suddenly spelled out much more clearly, and I got this label.

I am a cup-is-half-full kinda guy, so I have always worn the label of having a disorder as a badge of honor. The kind of honor you don’t deserve because you are just who you are, I see it more as a recognition that I climbed a tall mountain and survived.

I accept the facts of life as quickly as possible and learn to live with them. What is the point of complaining? No one can make them disappear. It is not easy. I cannot deny it. Knowing that you will feel depressed for a while, counting the days, and ignoring your own mood. Knowing you should not buy that, but also knowing that you will choose now over tomorrow.

Lithium tweaks many mood-altering chemicals in the brain, and its effects are complicated. Most interesting, lithium seems to reset the body’s circadian rhythm, its inner clock. In normal people, ambient conditions, especially the sun, dictate their humors and determine when they are tuckered out for the day. They’re on a twenty-four-hour cycle. Bipolar people run on cycles independent of the sun. And run and run. Sam Kean, The Disappearing Spoon

After a brief explanation from my doctor about what lithium was, I have never doubted taking it. For more than 25 years, it has helped me. I have seen and spoken to many people who go off their medication when they feel good, and in my experience, that, combined with an irregular life, almost always leads to relapse. Though doctors and scientists can’t exactly explain how lithium works, the record shows that it does, and that was enough for me to accept it.

Living with bipolar disorder also made me interested in how the brain constructs experience. We often think we perceive reality directly, but our brains constantly edit, filter, and prioritize information. Perhaps depression and mania are not simply different moods but different ways this filtering takes place. I know that my experience of the world changes, not as strongly as it once did, but it still changes. I also know that the world itself is not suddenly changing. What changes is the way I experience it.

The depressions and manias typical of bipolar disorder are usually not caused by what happens in life. They can be triggered by events, but more often they simply arrive. They can be triggered, but most of the time they just arrive. This realization has also helped me because what suddenly arrives can also suddenly disappear.

Lithium is important, but I also think that living a regular life is important. Depressions and manias might come suddenly, but a lack of sleep, for instance, can hasten them. A steady job, eating at six, writing, watching TV, and going to bed at ten are not as glamorous as the life I have lived at times, but the costs are, literally, much lower.

Day 3744, blueprint 9

Daily picture, Quotes

Friedrich Nietzsche

Thus Spoke Zarathustra
On the Afterwordly

At one time Zarathustra too cast his delusion beyond man, like all the afterworldly. The work of a suffering and tortured god, the world then seemed to me. A dream the world then seemed to me, and the fiction of a god: colored smoke before the eyes of a dissatisfied deity. Good and evil and joy and pain and I and you-colored smoke this seemed to me before creative eyes. The creator wanted to look away from himself; so he created the world. Drunken joy it is for the sufferer to look away from his suffering and to lose himself. Drunken joy and loss of self the world once seemed to me. This world, eternally imperfect, the image of an eternal contradiction, an imperfect image-a drunken joy for its imperfect creator: thus the world once appeared to me. Thus I too once cast my delusion beyond man, like all the afterworldly. Beyond man indeed? Alas, my brothers, this god whom I created was man-made and madness, like all gods! Man he was, and only a poor specimen of man and ego: out of my own ashes and fire this ghost came to me, and, verily, it did not come to me from beyond. What happened, my brothers? I overcame myself, the sufferer; I carried my own ashes to the mountains; I invented a brighter flame for myself. And behold, then this ghost fled from me. Now it would be suffering for me and agony for the recovered to believe in such ghosts: now it would be suffering for me and humiliation. Thus I speak to the afterworldly. It was suffering and incapacity that created all afterworlds, this and that brief madness of bliss which is experienced only by those who suffer most deeply. Weariness that wants to reach the ultimate with one leap, with one fatal leap, a poor, ignorant weariness that does not want to want any more: this created all gods and afterworlds.