so...what does elite|fitrea mean?

elite|fitrea is a strange name. I suppose that's appropriate; after all, I have loosely developed it to describe the oddity of my mind, my propensity for depression, and the source of my compulsion for self-alienation. It is a part of me, and the source of most, if not all, of my problems.

Originally, elite|fitrea was intended as a band name. I sought to describe what I thought of as a 'cough syrup' feeling; one which I experienced almost constantly. I believed it was a relatively common feeling—some people I have met identify with it—and I've come to group it with dissociation, or perhaps an embrace of strangeness, since normal became so alien to me as I grew older.

The name still embodies my musical ideas, and I still think of elite|fitrea as my 'band-name', although I have none to speak of¹ and generally prefer to write and record everything myself when I am able to. This is not to say I don't like working with people, but throughout my life I've found that they are preoccupied with their own interests and care little for collaborating with me. This is probably more my "fault" than theirs.

The name derives from two sources:

elite

In 2000, the only example of the 'cough syrup' feeling I could find was in the Deftones release, White Pony. I will try to refrain from writing a review of this album, but it was my absolute favorite for a several years. At the time, I was in a basement rock band with my high-school friends. In the spirit of rock tradition, a two-thirds majority of the band adopted the Deftones' grammy-winning track, elite as our official band name.

Over time, to me, it came to embody several ideas. For instance, elitism can serve as a veil to protect against unwanted inquisitions. Detached indifference as a response to pervading cultural dissatisfaction could be a form of elitism, and musical skill can engender elitism. Elitism could even betray an underlying self-hatred.

In my case especially, an aloof (or distant) sort of veil has given me the ability to cope with my depression symptoms. Out of such a context, however, elite hardly serves as an appropriate name for a band (it's a bit snooty), and I needed something more. I let the incompleteness of the task to roll in my mind in the form of a wordless question. The answer came from an unexpected source.

fitrea

During a period in my young adulthood I frequently browsed online mail-order-bride catalogs. I don't know if this is common behaviour to males in the US. I was in the marines at the time; single, estranged, enlisted under false pretenses, and below drinking age.

The whole concept of mail-order-brides seemed quite desperate to me, but it resonated with my depression in an unexpectedly reassuring way. I could relate to the desire of abandoning everything I knew on some vague promise of security. I was especially disillusioned with my country. But there was a twist to the sites I had found - they were fake. Profiles never changed, ages never updated. Presumably the sites were contrived to make money on the ignorant hopes of naive men. I had discovered a prime example of emotional predation.

This realization wasn't disheartening to me; rather it offered an intriguing insight into humanity. I identified with the plight of the women, who might not exist but are readily and easily conjured in imagination, and the men who desire them, duped by their trust of technology, their superiority complexes, and by their crippled and withered ability to relate to women from their own surroundings (possibly a reciprocated problem), all while considering the reality of the farcical sites, which provided neat, self-contained models for the front of interaction between emotion and institution; where emotion always seems to lose. Somehow, it represented a snapshot of the laceration I felt; stripped of choices or options, except for desperate ones.

The catalyzing agent in this discovery was a young lady named Fitria, who probably remains 19 to this day; ever-smiling in front of her shanty-shed on some remote island nowhere real. Fitrea is my personal anglicization her name. I have no clue as to its true etymological origin. It would be interesting to find out.

As it was, I co-opted her name to help represent my mind's own emotional self-predation.

synthesis

Now you're familiar with the words that make up the name; but you don't really know what it 'means' yet -- how it pertains to my mind as I mentioned earlier. Allow me to try for a second.

I'm actually a pretty smart and capable person. I'm not a genius by any means, but I might have gone much farther in life had it not been for my depression, and my untimely schizophrenic symptoms, whatever your opinions of them may be. They have been responsible for much more than my crimes.

I often draw a picture to represent what I'm talking about:

This image represents many things to me - it's a waveform, such as in sound or music, but could also represent moods; how a person can swing from feeling normal and contented to feeling tired and dead. I felt the latter more often than the former.

Untreated, my depression gets pretty bad; to the point that I'm not very honest about it. Since I resent ill-conceived advice on how to change my outlook, I tend to keep negative emotions secret. I was also generally opposed to medication² until recently.

Despite appearances, I'm a staunch optimist. Essentially, my symptoms are like a parasite, draining me of potential and energy. I have lots of it (apparently), and am fortunate enough to have spontaneous moments of energetic fervor, which seem to me as a pause in the symptoms' potency, during which I feel quite alive and musical ideas come quickly and easily. Moments like these give me insight into what 'career goals' might feel like in a normal person. Possesing a degree of skill in multiple instruments certainly helps.

Generally I practice resource management with my energy, my emotions, my capacity for empathy, my capacity for friendship, and so on. It is one of my 'wordless' management systems. I have many such systems in my brain for draining tasks. This is either a cause of disorganized thinking or a subversion against it.

The flip-side to this affliction is that it is extremely humbling and humanizing. It also creates a deep, inky well of creative outlet and expression. It has strengthened my identification with, and affection for, the underdog, and for all those who suffer³.

This is a strange, if perhaps self-immolating, benefit to my brain chemistry. While it has destroyed my capacity for enthusiasm over some things, it increases my potential for understanding and compassion. It also increases my drive for artistic expression. So elite|fitrea is what emerges from my potential self (elite) as it is altered by my sick self (fitrea).

You could have guessed as much, right?

This is a bit misleading as I'm in two prison bands now.
I had two reasons for this: a) I didn't have medical insurance when it could have helped me, so I couldn't afford a doctor to prescribe it in the first place, let alone pay for it; and b) I used to think of medication as suicide. If our brain chemistry makes up who we are, who do we become when we medicate? Ultimately I decided that it's not so different from drinking alcohol or using drugs. I can take it for its effect without worrying whether or not I'm still "me." Also, if "me" sucks, why not kill "me"?
I have recently discovered that this is similar in concept to the Buddhist cultivation of boddhichitta.