Labels
Are for cans, not for people, but on some level can we avoid summarising the complexity we perceive in another person to a more manageable, memorable tag? As far as I can tell, this works best as an unconscious thing as when we notice and respond to the labels we make in our minds, they are detected by the ‘other’. Even when complimentary, people don’t like to be reduced, I have deduced. It took me a while as I seek to understand how I am seen, but I am self obsessed and desperate to be accepted. Ha, that is a self-defeating prophecy. Giving another person the role of judge perhaps also does not sit well and help everybody play nicely. Of course I am reflecting on it now and making observations – I should probably be asking more questions and describing rather than making statements, or is it too late?
Laughter
Prized as an indication of ‘getting’ and explicating something – communicating a shared but maybe unthought understanding of something from a non-traditional perspective. Can be found in any walk of life and in the most grim places. Often, I find laughing in darker moments lends a more potent connection between selves, a moment of reassurance that a shared human experience can make sense of a situation even when it cannot resolve it.
Giggles and peals of laughter from a child can light up the most dreary day and ignite a silvery memory that lasts as long as the mind even though the sound may last just a moment.
Lazy
Or efficient?
Life
To be summarised in a paragraph? Hopefully not because there’s more to learn, I don’t want to get bored and think I’ve got it down. Though the situations thrown at me often leave me feeling like a teenager without the veil of self assurance or droopy stomach. You should always look on the bright side. Then you can maintain an attractive and hilarious expression of incredulity rather than a world-weary eyebrow tipping an ‘I told you so’ angle when it bites you on the arse. Being eaten like a blubbery lollipop deserves, well requires a wry angle.
Light
Something I will never be again. Life is heavy, and being buffeted by it necessitates a certain solidity. I can’t get this from my musings or imagination, I usually require something tangible, sugary, and where possible, baked. There is a chance I have overdone it as life’s blustery weather these days doesn’t really need 16 stone of cellulite wobbling in the wind. I used to weigh 9 stone, at 6 feet this is a bit on the slight side but I fear I’ve overshot with the solution.
Or from a not incompatible perspective, light is the thing we should always keep moving towards. I maintain that even if unachievable weight-wise, I should keep trying to be lighter. But what about the tunnel? Some of us are asked to stop moving towards the light to prevent us becoming it, at the point of death. But working through life’s problems means not lingering in the tunnel to absorb quite how awful it is. Instead we should keep moving, however slowly, forward – towards the light. which implies that death is the answer to life. Hopefully dying wipes out all sins and transgressions, but does it leave us purified and enlightened?
Loss of control
Rollercoasters, facilitating workshops, parties. I dread all of these to a greater or lesser degree. Though the likelihood of actual harm is small, not being able to direct the actions of others, or my speed and direction in the case of rollercoasters is impossible for me to bear. I used to not be bothered by rollercoasters, and found them exciting. But I have developed a narrative around them being dangerous and unnecessary stimulation of the fearful part of my brain. Why do I assume of the 100 people on it at any one time that I would be the one who would fall out or whose brain would explode? Because I secretly (or not so much now) believe that my height, weight and general disposition single me out for disaster. Was this LSD-induced or a product of self absorption and experience- induced uncertainty about the assumption that I will be here, in this state or awareness tomorrow?
Now I hate drugs and don’t really drink that much – remaining in control, even when giving myself permission to eat a grab bag of monster munch and a bounty bar after a night in the pub. Scarily it extended to giving birth (‘I can’t believe how quiet you were’ was the feedback last time when the baby’s shoulders got stuck) but sadly also to sex, I dissociate too often and have to work hard with my partner to bring my controlled self neatly to orgasm.
Love
The oldest yet the latest thing. For me it goes through unpredictable seasons – moments of crashing doubt and numbness to exquisite heights of fulfilment achieved through walking alongside someone. I love, I lean on my lover and I know I am loved. At times I may test this like a naive teenager – checking the emotion can still run high and he cares. I then berate myself for having doubts when he is so steady and undemanding. Were it not for this would we still argue?
We have moulded ourselves around each other and grown together like two trees planted in synchrony. Are we enmeshed? Co-dependent? Probably but I counter that we compromise the same amount. It is a long way to go, this compromise – he donates money and endless patience, I offer individual care and acceptance of the role of ‘interactor’ – with the kids’ messier needs, trades and other professional bodies who need to intrude on our bubble every now and then. And as I know my lover hates attention, the personal bit stops here.
Love can get you through the worst moments of your life, but it can cause them too. Love can ruin your life when it is taken away or for granted. Assuming it doesn’t need to be tended or nurtured – just seeing it from one person’s point of view may lead to that most ignominious event – the surprise break-up. Why does someone leaving us out of the blue make it feel more like something about ourself than about them? Should they have made it clearer that they needed something else? Should we have been a different person? Does asking this imply we have no empathy or that maybe the chemistry was not right? Being in love may blind us and entreat us to put up with screamingly awful behaviour but does that necessitate blame or self-hatred? Can we develop the capacity for change without such emotional drivers? Maybe if we move with the shifts life’s obstacle race presents us as part of a three-legged athlete, we can work towards feeling less tied down, more triumphant when we’re still standing and in heaven;y synchrony when we lie down.
Ligature
What a fun one… I’ve never seriously thought of hanging myself, though I’ve considered lots of other methods and road tested overdosing. When I think about why it seems to me that the image my loved ones would last hold would be me dangling, which leaves a dark, haunting dread. Though were I to reflect further, the sight of my yellowed carcass covered in vomit from gorging on paracetamol and rum might also not be one I’d choose to be remembered by. Practically, being over 6 feet tall means the mechanics of finding somewhere high enough with a suitably strong ligature point that is unfrequented long enough further narrows the chances somewhat. But I’m in control of what I do in the pits of my emotions and plead to the disillusioned me that might be tempted to take the easy way out to remember the joy that has beset my life since will come around again.
Lithium
An element that treats bipolar disorder and the name of an awesome song by Nirvana (because of the first point) – see here if you missed the grunge scene in the 1990s. Is losing your hair and damaging your kidneys (as suggested here) really worth it? The coincidence that there is a metal found here on our planet that can help balance the human mood is pretty earth-shattering. But if it were meant to be, would the toxicity people struggle with need to be the price to pay to stay out of mania-induced debt and depression-induced suicidality? The dangerous farce created by relentlessly prescribing more side-effect ridden drugs to follow those that you used to have and that could still kill you isn’t funny. Neither is your psychiatrist reacting with swift and punitive correctional action when your anger shows up – perhaps this is the coincidence that prescribers really ought to note.
PsychCoblog 