A story about stuffing up

“And he said unto me, My grace is sufficient for you: for my strength is made perfect in weakness. Most gladly therefore will I rather boast in my weaknesses, that the power of Christ may rest upon me. Therefore I take pleasure in weaknesses, in reproaches, in necessities, in persecutions, in distresses for Christ's sake: for when I am weak, then am I strong.” 

- 2 Corinthians 12: 9-10

Charlotte

I walk into the doctor's office. What exactly do I expect? What's wrong with me? What can she help me with, she asks. I don't know. I think I need something. I don't know. In my grandparents day I would have been having this conversation with a priest or an elder of my church. Church? What if any part of this is holy? Thirty-five years ago marrying in a church, I did not expect that today I would be having this conversation with anyone. What can you help me with?... I haven't been able to sleep in days. I have no desire to eat. I cry all day. Every day. How long has it been, she asks. Two weeks. But two weeks is a long time when you're heartbroken, feeling like the world has been removed from under your feet. I haven't felt present. I don't know why or who I am... Oh, she's looking at me blankly.

It's my husband, I tell her. He had sex with another woman. It's my fault; I haven't had sex with him since the first time this happened. Yes, it's happened before; a few years ago now. I should have known my mother was right; she said if you forgive him once, you have to be prepared that this will be only the first time. How could he? How could she? I don't know her, but what kind of person has no brains about her to get herself into this? That is not a normal person.

Why have I really come here? What is my goal? Do I really intend to continue a relationship with a man of such low character? Oh, he's a wonderful man, but how can this... this... I can only think of the words filth and numb. He used to be so good. We were so good. How do you put your whole family life on the line like that? What do you have to be thinking? He's a man, maybe all men are like this. Doctor, are all men like this? What do I do? She's still just looking at me blankly. Am I wrong in feeling all this? Does he have a problem? Do I? I think it's better if we have a problem, that way we can fix it... Oh God, what am I saying? She's still just looking at me wondering how she can help...

David

I always thought 'yeah, I'm attracted to powerful people, passionate people, people with drive and motivation'. And that may be the case but I think another part of me takes comfort in the weak. Is it because I compare myself to them? I don't know. I’m weak. I'm uncomfortable too. I don't love her like I used to. It happens to all couples. She keeps asking what was I thinking? What was I thinking. Dear, if you would understand that I wasn't thinking. I intended nothing; I thought of nothing but of the moment. They ask of addicts “why do you do it when you know that it’s so bad for you?” But no-one ever remembers how good it feels. People do things because they feel good, not because you want to avoid something worse. It felt good, Charlotte! It felt good! But I can’t tell you that... I tell you I was lonely. Of course, it’s not your fault! It’s not your fault! And this is what makes me most ashamed of this situation. You blame yourself, you hate me, and you think there was a reason and you won’t let up until you find it.

Charlotte, if I told you what attracted me to her it would hurt your soul. It was me; I was what attracted me to this. But to explain to you that it really was about me and not her, well, you just wouldn't understand. You simply cannot understand that she made me feel things about me that you can’t and won’t let me feel anymore. Oh, dear, I’m not blaming you, either. Please understand that’s not what I’m thinking at all. But you shut me down, you tell me what to do, you tell me when and how it’s appropriate to do it. These women, (yes, you know of that one) see me as a worthy person, an intelligent person, a good person. They see ME. And in your way I know you feel the same way about me; that’s the stories you tell your friends. You say I don’t love you anymore, but when did you stop loving me? Why won’t you show me that love? Why did you stop being sweet and caring and loving as we once were? Don’t tell me it’s because of that first lapse; you and I both know it happened much earlier. And THAT I will never understand. Why did you stop laughing with me to start laughing at the pathetic all-adoring little mascot of yours I became?

You ask what these women had that you don’t? Nothing! Absolutely nothing. It felt good to be wanted again, Charlotte. I wish you knew how much. I wish you let me feel this good again. You say you feel numb. Now you feel numb? I've been feeling this way for months and years!.. It’s no excuse, I know.

And now you drag me to this doctor’s appointment. Haven’t I shown you already how ashamed and regretful I am? Must you humiliate me further? A “check-up” on my health you say. Is there something wrong with my brain? Have I contracted some illness? I go along. I have no secrets left, Charlotte. I have nothing left in me.

The doctor

I’m listening. What else am I supposed to do? How can I help? Oh gosh, they never taught me any of this in med school. They don’t teach any of this anywhere. I agree this is a bad situation but do you understand I don’t know what to do either? You’re trying to figure out the direction of your life, and I’m trying to figure out how can I do my job and somehow, I don’t know how, contribute something today. "Empathetic listening", they said something like that in medical school. I resented them for trying to teach me so much communication stuff and not enough medicine. I wish I’d paid attention in case we ever came across this scenario. Fuck, am I feeling sorry for myself in a time like this? Focus, Vanessa. Thirty-five years of marriage, you say. Thirty-five?! I haven’t even been alive that long! I barely know the difference between my right and left and you’re asking me for marital advice? I don’t know. How to make a relationship last? What to do when you find yourself in an unequally-giving relationship? I don’t know. Clearly, I have no idea; I've barely known how to keep myself alive 30-something years and you ask me how to rescue a relationship. Focus. I have to focus. What was my job again?... STI check. Would you like me to run some tests to check for sexually-transmitted infections? Did I really just say that as you started to cry? I’m an idiot. Somebody throw me a frigging bone here! I’ll point out the tissue box on my desk. There, that’s better. You said you can’t eat, sleep, or stop thinking depressive thoughts in the last 2 weeks. Two weeks isn't enough to diagnose you with anything. And did I really just think about diagnosis? Bad shit happened to you, you’re sad, and I’m trying to find pathology in that? Jesus Christ, what the fuck has happened to my common sense, to my morals, to my better judgement? God, don’t ask me what I think your husband was thinking. Was that a rhetorical question? I don’t know. I say I don’t understand it either. Oh God, I’m in fucking agony here… Charlotte, can YOU tell ME what you think I can help you with? And let me just say, I don’t think there’s anything wrong with you. You have every right to be feeling the way you are. I don’t know what else to say to you, but I can tell you that.

And now you've brought your husband? What do you want me to say? How can I help you? How can either one of us be helped here, David? Stop telling me your story; it's inconsequential to me. Tell her! No, I'm being selfish and thinking only that I'll be late home again because you're spilling your guts out to me. Tell me. Cleanse your soul. Teach me things so that one day I may understand men and women like you and your wife. We've both stuffed up, David. And today I shouldn't have come to work.

On insight

When I was younger a psychologist once asked me why I always ended up in relationships with people who were 'unavailable'. Of course, she asked me this rhetorically to prompt me to reflect on the pattern of my relationships. She asked if I could remember the first time someone had made me feel like I was vying for their attention and yet I wasn't getting my emotional needs met consistently. Yes, how cliché, it was with my mother as a child! Now, what most people instinctively do when we find a source to our problems is it either 1) brings us comfort by allowing us to say "hey, it's not my fault I'm like this", or 2)  we feel guilty that we are the way we are. The problem with blaming the past, though, is it's of no use to anyone if it doesn't force change.

If we feel guilt (which is an unpleasant emotion and thus makes for a great self-flagellation device), we come to believe that feeling guilty is exoneration enough for doing what we do. But if feeling guilty is ALL we do, we usually just continue to behave in the emotionally-immature coping patterns we're used to. It's not enough to feel guilty. It's not enough to wait passively for things to change. In real life, the poor little victim princess doesn't magically get rescued by a hero. In real life the princess needs to build up her strength, overcome her own past, and slay her own dragons in order for things to change for her. It's not a matter of 'good things happen to those that wait', but rather good things happen to those who make things change.

On keeping quite

I've noted myself that I haven’t being writing as much as I used to, and I think that now I know why. I was trying to convince myself that it was because of lack of ideas, but that’s not the real (or at least not the whole) truth. I have been censoring myself. I know, it’s embarrassing but that is exactly what I have been doing for at least the last year.

It’s interesting that I started this blog to put down some of my rants, to share some of my stories, and essentially to say the things that I lack verbal finesse to say adequately. It was meant to be to express myself and my personal opinions. So what happened? I've been scared. It’s true, I have been.

It started because at one point I was asked by someone to not share stories about my romantic relationships because they felt that reflected badly on them. So I held back my feelings (which I am finally realising are solely my property) and tried to eliminate even commenting that I may or may not at a particular time be in a relationship. Then I was dissatisfied with the circumstances of a couple of the last few places I've worked, and yet too scared to lose my job (and suffer financially) for saying what I really think and what I think is wrong. Later I became scared to even comment about any social or political situations that I have opinions on, for fear that my opinions may unfortunately be seen as not simply my opinion but those of “a doctor”. I was at the time reading stories about people who happened to be doctors and also bloggers who were posting opinion pieces, and who later received attention or reprimand from medical registration boards because apparently doctors can only ever be doctors and never just be everyday human beings with opinions. I was scaring myself into thinking that I just wasn't allowed to have an opinion that may not ‘reasonably be expected of a medical practitioner by the public’ or that may not ‘reasonably be shared by my peers’. Yes, I was thinking in medico-legal terms. And I was afraid to post about things that concerned or bothered me about the religious group I attended for fear of it affecting my or my family’s standing and reputation within the congregation.

So what does Vanessa discuss if she can’t talk about love, medicine, socio-political commentary, or theology? Not much. Because those are the things that affect my life the most, the things that I want to talk about. So I almost came to a complete halt of this blog. But I've been feeling very frustrated and very tired in the last year, and I've come to the conclusion that there may be a correlation between my lack of self-expression and the ongoing frustration and exhaustion in my life. So my plan this year is to allow myself to regain my passion for self-expression, and to lose some of the frustration that comes from my self-imposed censorship.

Thank you for your support.

Nothing should come between a woman and her love for... mangoes.
This picture was meant to be an analogy for writing, but mangoes will do :)

On responsibility

I remember one of the greatest lessons taught to me both at home and at school was about responsibility. It was such a good trait in a person that even if you owned up to wrong-doing, there would be an incentive for the admission (e.g. reduced punishment). I wonder now what happened to make taking responsibility for almost anything such a dirty affair.

Do you know when people are quick to claim responsibility for things? When things go right! Politicians, for example, are a great at speaking of their triumphs in war, claiming they achieved this or that target. For a moment it would be possible to convince yourself that Barack Obama was literally holding the firearm that killed Osama bin Laden, such was the claim that “we got him”. In science journals a string of names appear as the “researchers”, and if the discovery or finding is big news enough, the person giving the interview will be the person who runs the research institute or the head of the lab – not the little guy who actually did all the intellectual and physical work. Similarly in medicine, especially in teaching hospitals, the name of the consultant will always be quoted as the guy who did the surgery or who treated a patient’s complex medical problems – where in reality the consultant probably has never laid eyes on the patient. But I am, of course, talking about when things go right, the successes. The culture extends all the way to clinical records, as I have had to explain to patients in the past:  “I know the information is about you, and it was collected and written by me, but it belongs neither to you or me apparently but to the person who lent me the pen and paper (or computer) with which I recorded the information”. Or at least this is what I have been told in the past by previous employers… Imagine if the same had been done to the great poets and writers of the past. Mark Twain would not have made a cent from the proceeds of the sale of Huckleberry Finn but the manufacturer of the pen and paper he wrote with would have made some very easy money!

Now, when things go wrong in medicine, it’s not the hospital’s or the clinic’s fault, it’s not the consultant’s fault – then it is all about the little guy. When competitions are won, a whole nation claims victory; but when they are lost, it’s the one competitor or team who is the loser. When corruption is uncovered, it is always said it was just one person’s fault, not the institution or the culture that drove him to it, etc. We have become very quick to deny responsibility for ourselves and distance ourselves from all negative events. Unfortunately, this has come to extend to our personal lives too.

If there is one thing I pride myself on is trying to be an understanding and non-judgemental human being. I have met people, though, who confuse taking responsibility with admitting fault, and therefore they refuse/avoid/delay taking responsibility at all. We are all shaped by our childhood experiences, past relationships, our genetics, formal and informal education, etc. All these things together shape how we are today. Now, one or more of those things may have been a profound traumatic negative experience that has gone on to shape us significantly – and maybe even negatively. As a result of that experience perhaps we become highly attuned to certain words people say (perhaps words bullies may have used) or to misinterpreting body language or we come to expect that certain words will be followed by physical abuse, etc. When you experienced those things before it was perhaps appropriate to retaliate or go on the defence. The thing is when you are no longer in that situation and you continue to react as if you were, that is when our own actions/defence become our offense. That is when we hurt ourselves more, or others too. Now, as I said, I can understand this and I can forgive this. No one is saying it is your fault you are the way you are; and it’s certainly not your fault those negative things may have happened to you (emotional or physical abuse, etc.), but it is each individual’s responsibility to decide whether they want to continue to be and act the same or to change. I see the person who refuses to change, who points out how it’s not their fault, who perhaps feels guilt but not motivation to change, as someone caught up in victimhood. And as I have stated many times before, we are not victims of our past but rather the creators of our own future. And trust me, there are still plenty of incentives out there for those that do stand up courageously and take responsibility.

On loving

I must endure the presence of a few caterpillars
 if I wish to become acquainted with the butterflies

I’ve started to wonder again what it’s like to be in love. I know, I’ve spoken many times about being in love and have related it to my own experience, but now I feel like a novice again. What is it like to be in love? I mean, really in love; like the people who are so in love that they dedicate their lives to this love, to each other, and then they get married. What’s that like it? What is it like to love like that? I don’t think I know.

I imagine – and, yes, I believe imagining is not enough – that to be truly in love two people have to be really sure of themselves, of their feelings, of their partner’s character, and of their partner’s feelings. How else to do you put it all on the line like that? How do you accept such vulnerability if not by having at least a substantial amount of trust in someone else? It’s hard enough in this world to trust yourself (at least for some of us), but then to trust someone else too – Wow! That to me is what I have perhaps never experienced if I am now doubting whether I truly have known love.

The one question that niggles at the back of the mind of someone like me who has in the past believed that they were in love with someone else is ‘is it reciprocated?’ And an even worse and even more troubling question is ‘am I giving too much for what I can expect in return?’ I know, right, we all are told that biblical/romantic story that true “love is patient”, “love is kind”, “love is not selfish”, blah blah blah; so I should be feeling ashamed for having just admitted that those questions do go through the minds of so many of us, especially the majority of us who have been heartbroken in the past. But love IS selfish and unkind and impatient; I believe it has to be! For you to truly believe that the person whom you love is worthy of your love, you have to believe that they are someone special. And yet you have to convince yourself that they’re not so special so as to deserve someone better than us mere mortals with all the flaws in ourselves of which we have full comprehension. No, you have to be selfish and think, ‘yes, they’re special and deserve the best in the world, but I don’t care about that because I desire them to be mine’. There you go, that’s selfish! It’s selfish but I believe it’s necessary, and admittedly it is the same concept that brings about the impulse in us to better ourselves. We want to become that amazing person our own “special person” deserves – and there’s nothing wrong with that!

Is there something wrong with wanting or expecting someone to reciprocate our love? Oh yes, the biblical story again about giving unselfishly and without expectation of getting something is return… Well, I don’t believe it applies here. What’s the validity of loving someone if they don’t love you back? That is NOT love. That is worship or idolatry or something of that quality. It doesn’t console me to be loved by someone I don’t love in return, and it doesn’t rejoice my heart either to love someone who doesn’t love me in return (or whom I believe doesn’t). But besides wanting to be loved in return, I want to be loved equally.

Equality in love; oh gosh, I wish I could believe again that such a thing is possible. I mean, people get married all the time; it must be possible to love like that, right? Right? I’m at a loss here. I want desperately to believe it’s possible, but the evidence doesn’t convince me fully. Because I have been heartbroken in the past, maybe even too many times, I find it hard to ever imagine a time when I ask the question “am I giving too much?” and the answer is no. More interestingly is I (and perhaps others in my situation too) have never asked “am I giving too little?” I thought about this only a short time ago. I had never asked myself that question; and at the same time I was certain that almost 100% of the time I was giving too much, without a doubt. But what if I’m not? What if I am giving too little or what I give are only irrelevant things? Woah! That took some effort to overcome my ego to just write that last sentence. I often think that the things others are offering me are too little!

What would I give up for love? I’ve spoken of it; I’d give money, my career, lesser dreams than love, my religion perhaps, etc. But what won’t I give up? That is the more important question! Well, it would be hard for me to give up my family, especially my mother. It’d be hard to give up my desire to be a parent to a child during my lifetime. It would be hard for me to commit murder or break other deep-seated morals I stand against. It would be hard to give those things up for love, because it would be akin to abandoning my true self. What have I to offer anyone if I lack even my own integrity, my own character, my own self-respect? Sure, there is devotion and one can still do good even without a grain of soul left in you, but that is not living to me. Who would ask this of me? Who would expect I empty my soul in order to be with them? Well, some people would say that this is exactly what the devil does: ask for your soul even if there is nothing left in it. Could I love someone like that? Could I expect to be loved by someone like that? And it sounds dramatic when I put it in those terms, but you have to remember that the world we live in isn’t too far from my analogy. Adolf Hitler had a wife who adored him and loved him to the very last breath. Paedophiles often have wives who hide their secrets for them, who sometimes even assist their partners in their crimes.

One day I would like to be in love, truly in love. I would like to feel that my love is reciprocated, that it’s equalled, and that it is worth both my and my partner’s sacrifices.

On excuses, reasons, and choice

I met someone some time ago who had some personality features I didn’t quite like. We were close for a time and so I told her that some of the things she did bothered and sometimes even hurt me. She told me that it was all because that’s just how she was, that that’s how she had turned out after been raped as a teenager by her father. Of course, that is a terrible thing to happen to anyone and I know it takes a lot of courage to tell your own story. And, of course, I also realise that childhood sexual abuse really does mess you up in so many ways! The strangeness of this particular situation was that this friend said to me fairly often “that’s just how I am” and reminded me about her father. I knew; I wasn’t going to forget what she had told me – it was something deeply serious! However, after so many times that she told me that that’s how she is and it’s due to the childhood sexual abuse she had suffered, I remembered that she wasn’t the only person this had happened to. Don’t get me wrong, it’s a very sad and disturbing thing and every single person this happens to will experience it differently and will be affected differently by it in the long-term. However, I felt that with me she was using it as an excuse for her behaviour so as to avoid apology, or – God forbid – change.

I have known a very many people who have been sexually abused as children and not everyone was as mean as this ‘friend’ was to me; they weren’t obligated to be mean by reason of their terrible experiences. When I remembered this, and at the last straw with this friend, I walked away from it all. Yes, I know that people with histories of abuse in childhood are more likely to have a personality disorder in adulthood than those who never had those experiences. And yet I also believe in the human potential for change. I know that you can take away every choice from a child when he is abused. I also know that at some point a child becomes and adult and all adults have the choice to continue to be victims to the past or to progress from there. It’s a choice. My friend wasn’t without awareness of how her personality and the things she said and did hurt others (myself included), and she was a very smart woman academically and creatively. When I told her that something she did or said hurt me, she didn’t say “I’m sorry. I will try not to do it again”. No, she would say, “that’s just how I am. You know with what my dad did to me”. Yes, I knew that. I also knew he wasn’t currently doing that her; she was no longer a victim, she was just choosing to continue to wear the victim cloak as an excuse not to alter her adult behaviour. Finally, it hurt me too much to continue to be her friend when she found it easier to say “this is how I am” than to alter her behaviour to prevent hurting those that were simply trying to be a good friend to her.

On how relationships are like Satan

Today I want to talk about Satan. Well, on how Satan reminds me so much about relationships. It’ll come as no surprise that my spiritual teachings have been mostly from the Judaeo-Christian faith, so it’s understandable that I use this analogy. To the uninitiated, the story of Satan is like this: God (the creator of absolutely everything) made this really powerful angel, who later came to be called Satan. He gave him the best of everything and was his favourite son. God said to him that the only person above him was God himself, and so he had to obey and worship God same as the other spiritual creatures God had made. It was a pretty sweet deal for Satan to be the favourite son of God… But then this Satan dude got to thinking ‘hey, why should I have to obey?’, ‘what gives God the right to decide what is good and bad for others? that seems unfair’, and ‘why does he have to get all the worship of others? I want some worship too’, and finally ‘what will happen if someone does disobey God?’… And so he came about to answer some of his questions by some very intelligent means using the newest of God’s creations, whom God claimed were in his image and likeness: humans.

Thinking beyond what is good for you

You know when you first meet someone and become attracted to them and everything they do seems right. You love their smile, what they smile about, how they interact with you and respond to you, how they think, how they behave, how they make you feel, etc.  Awww, it’s all so sweet. And you love spending time together, sharing, enjoying adventures in the present, telling tales of the past, and planning futures together. But then something happens. Maybe it’s that too much of a good thing makes our brains want to find a fault in the reality of things. Satan, our predecessor, had it all but he started to wonder, “is there even more?” Soon he started to want these (supposedly) even better things even though he’d never had them and certainly wasn’t suffering without. I mean, why does the “honeymoon” phase of relationships have to end?

Envy

There are no two equal relationships in the world and no two equal lovers in relationships. Everyone has different backgrounds and different expectations of the future. There is looking forward with desire to the future, and there is looking sideways with desire (and maybe contempt?) to others’ present. The last of these is called envy. Sometimes in relationships, even great romances, the lovers can begin to notice other people who are in love, or even other people who have loved you or whom you loved once, and begin to feel less than these others. But why? Wasn’t the relationship great to begin with? Yes, in the same way Satan already had a pretty awesome life before he decided he’d rather be like God instead. It’s one of the most absurd things on this universe to ignore what you have for the stupidity of wanting to have what others have. What often happens is the same as when you get distracted on the road when you see something “interesting”: you crash your own car for something so insignificant. Satan lost his paradise kingdom for desiring something other than what that paradise had to offer him.

Slander

Christians believe that the first lie told was the lie told to Eve by Satan disguised as a serpent. He said to her, “your God has lied to you”. That, however, was a lie. Eve ran with that lie because we human beings are incredibly good at believing lies - it’s almost as if we crave it! The hardest thing in a relationship isn’t believing a lie, no, that’s the easiest thing; the hardest thing is trusting enough to believe the truth. Losing trust, I believe, is the only thing irreparable in any relationship.

Doubt

There are so many unknowable things in this universe, the most unknowable one to us humans are other human beings’ intentions – and yet it is what we most commonly claim to know so well! There are no proofs, confessions, eyewitness accounts, promises, or alibis that can convince an untrusting mind. Satan could have killed Adam and Eve if he wanted to, he could have attempted to overthrow God’s regime, but instead he did something more subtle that had the same effect: he created doubt. Adam and Eve had all the proof in the universe that this God dude had only good intentions and he’d only ever been good to them by giving them all this really cool stuff (the earth and animals and everything to care for), but Satan made them doubt God’s intention and his word. They didn’t have proof that God was bad, but they came to doubt his “goodness”. How often in relationships do we see conflict created not by proof of wrongdoing but of doubt? We can doubt our partner’s faithfulness, their intentions for the future, the nature of their past, the intentions of their current actions... But why? Why do we do this to ourselves?  I don’t know what the answer to that is. But oh how convinced I could become that relationships are the work of the devil!

J

On jealousy

In my experience, there are four types of people in relationships: the jealous types, the ones in denial about being jealous types, those with a good sense of self-worth, and those who aren’t really in love. I’m of the jealous type. I quite openly admit that because I know myself and I know that I have never liked my partners paying too much attention, comfort, or affection towards others, especially if that attention, comfort, and affection tends to be focused on one or a few people. Why do I get jealous? Well, the immediate reason is I want all of my partner’s attention, comfort, and affection because I am in love with them! The non-immediate reason is I wonder if all that fond interaction between my partner and someone else could eventually lead to romantic feelings between them. And of course I’m in love with my partner and I don’t want that to happen. It’s not far-fetched, either; when we are courting someone what we do is start to pay them more attention, affection, etc… So, yes, of course, they could potentially fall in love.  Anyhow, that is the reasoning of us jealous types.

The people in denial about being jealous types are usually those at the absolute extreme of jealousy! Generally, these are the people who become jealous about you even interacting with completely platonic friends and family. The problem isn’t that they’re in love with you and want you not to fall in love with others; the problem is usually that they don’t trust that you love them. I used to think that jealousy happened because of this pathological sense of possessiveness, but really it’s more about having a poor sense of self-worth. If someone pays your partner some attention (even that may come about in the normal workings of a day), or if (god forbid) your partner pays someone other than you some attention, the exuberantly jealous partner’s thoughts run to “they’re going to leave me”. But the full statement they’re saying to themselves, often subconsciously, is “they’re going to leave me because I’m not good enough or as good as anyone else”. But before you go and feel sorry for the poor person with the low self-esteem, think for a second of the partner. As the partner of someone at the extremes of jealousy what you feel is this constant statement that your love for your partner isn’t convincing them enough, that you never quite do the right thing to convince them of your love, and that your own commitment isn’t valued and is being doubted each time. Unfortunately, the jealous partner can eventually start to leave out from conversations the “I love you”, the “I’ve missed you”, the “how was your day?”. Instead they greet you with an interrogation into who you’ve spoken to and spent time with, etc. Sadly, this is how jealousy erodes relationships.

Those with a good sense of self-worth are ideal partners, then, right? Yes, when they don’t doubt your love for them and their love for you… But it’s not all about self-worth. Paulo Coelho, in his novel The Zahir, speaks of a couple of two very self-assured people. They’ve been married many years and are far from what you’d describe as jealous. One day, suddenly, the woman leaves the man. He had no idea of there being any trouble in the relationship or the woman being unhappy or wanting to leave him. In fact, it turns out, he knew very little about his wife. There’s a thin line between trying not to come across as jealous and simply not caring. When you take no interest in your partner’s life, you risk not being a part of it.

Do I have a point with this discussion? I guess I’m just trying to make a point of being aware of the messages we put out in relationships, of being self-aware of our relationship style, and of reflecting on whether the way we interact is putting across the right message to our partners.

On making "the unhappy" happy - Part 1/2

One thing that took me a while to understand when I was younger is that “love”, or having a romantic relationship, doesn’t cure everything. In fairy tales, people fall in love and love rids you of physical “ugliness”, of having an evil heart, of disease and death, of financial poverty, of social oppression, of emotional and physical abuse, of low self-esteem, of disability, and of every negative thing that can happen to a human being. And don’t get me wrong, I like those stories as much as anyone else, and I'm also aware they are often metaphors for what love can actually achieve. Essentially love, being in love, being loved, loving, discovering love, etc. has the effect of giving human beings courage to believe in their own strength and to take risks. The greatest motivator for positive change and the strength to bring about that change is love. Love can conquer all…

The second most difficult thing for a human being to do is to bring about change in this world. The single most difficult thing in this life for us to do is to bring about change in ourselves. Love is supposed to make all things possible, right? That’s what the fairy tales tell us. That is what we have learnt personally from life. I still believe this is true. But there is one scenario unique to human beings I find particularly interesting when considering all that love can do.

Depression and post-traumatic stress disorder (PTSD) result in unique states of mind where the “enemy” and the “villain” that we fight everyday lives exclusively within our hearts and minds. He may have been created by exposure to psychologically trauma or neurobiochemical imbalances or social oppression and abuse, or any of a myriad of negative human experiences. Yet the outcome of these situations are so common that someone has been able to make lists of the cognitive effects that result. They are described commonly in books and medical and scientific literature and classified into categories that receive the names of “mood disorders”. Depression, anxiety, and PTSD are very common diagnoses given to the people who suffer the effects of having these internal enemies to fight; the low mood, the lack of self-esteem, the sense of worthlessness, the compulsion to self-harm, the feelings of inability to better one’s own situation, and the inability to envision a future different to the inner world they seem trapped in.

I have seen many patients with PTSD, mainly war veterans, but all survivors of some sort of abuse or extremes of human experience. These people have lived through horrible things – and survived! If anybody can be called strong and honorable, it is them. Yet, they often are the first to believe they don’t deserve to be alive or to have good things in life. Bullets kill many soldiers in combat; depression and PTSD kills way too many survivors. People don’t choose to suffer depression, anxiety, or PTSD, the same way none of us choose to voluntarily suffer. And the worst part is that with these psychiatric complaints, you also can’t choose to “just snap out of it”. The goals of treatment in these disorders are not aimed at cure, but at managing symptoms, learning new ways to process information to help stop triggering these inner beasts, and minimizing the number of exacerbations. Of course, there are many ways we go about doing this (medication, psychotherapy, self-directed education, meditation, etc.), but generally there’s no way to completely cure these problems.

But wait, what about love? Doesn’t love “conquer ALL? Doesn’t love give you strength, courage, motivation, hope, etc. to achieve anything in life – even to change the world? The thing with depression, PTSD, and other psychiatric complaints is that the thing to conquer lies within. But love should be able to help you achieve even that, right? Isn’t love also able to change a human being? I used to believe just that.

On what I've been doing

Mexibunny and me :)

I’ve been a bit erratic in my postings the last few weeks and I’d like to take this time for a confession-type activity. Writing, and especially this blog, is my passion. Self-expression, more rightly, is what drives me, and writing is the tool I feel most able at using. So when I write, I write because it makes me feel good to express myself. In the last few weeks there have been some things that have interrupted my usual weekly spiel. Basically, here’s a list of the things that have been taking up my time (and this I am sharing for my own selfish benefit in that it helps me sort through my priorities:

Exams

Oh gosh, there are only two things you need to study any field in life: time and memory. Really, that is all. They tell you that ability to reason is the key, but the truth is that at the end of the day our knowledge is evaluated not by someone inspecting our brains and seeing the cognitive connections we make when problem-solving, but by exams. A question for which an answer has already been assigned as right is asked. You want to pass an exam, you have to know the answer to the questions. That’s it. That’s life. How you memorize or acquire that knowledge is not important when it comes to assessments; answers, results are. Ha!

I have been studying for RACGP exams. I don’t know whether I passed or not, but right now in my life it makes little difference. In a few weeks when I know my results it will matter, but then even then, it won’t for too long. If I pass, well, I just move on with the next step. If I fail, well, I just move on with the next step, which is to study some more to take the exam again. That’s it. Everything else makes little difference. Whether I am excited or disappointed, expectant or nonchalant, makes no difference at all.

Trying my hand at new relationships

So the RACGP exams were the biggest exams of my life so far, no doubt about it. On the morning of this exam, at 3am, someone who I thought may be a worthy person in my life calls to ask a favour. Can I give them a ride to the airport? Yes, some people are considerate; others only know how to take from those of us “too nice” to let ourselves get walked on. This relationship made me realise that perhaps I am too accepting of others, that I do settle for too little, that as long as I allow others to be ok with only taking and taking from me, they will continue to do so. I have never thought that we waste our time with other people, but this relationship truly pushed me to almost believe this. I guess I can only call it not a waste of time by realising that it taught me that people like this exist  - and that I want to stay away from them.

Friends

Making friends is hard; keeping friends is even harder. When we were children all we needed to make a friend is to have them be in the same vicinity as us, and all we needed for them to remain our friends is to do the things they like, avoid things they dislike, and to apologize when we got it wrong. It’s harder as an adult. But it is so rewarding. When a friend wants to spend time with me, at my insistence or theirs, I always oblige to make it happen. It’s always a rewarding experience.

New nephew

What is it about babies? For the first few days they all look the same and do (and don’t do) the same things. You see one baby picture and you’ve seen them all, right? And yet, we can all find something about these little beings to love. Love? Yes, this is the amazing thing about humanity! We love those who offer us nothing in return, those whose only take and take and give essentially nothing in return, those about whom there is nothing “special”. And yet we all have a sense that they are unique and special human beings, full of potential, innocent, charming, entertaining, and worthy of our love, care, and protection. That’s it, that’s why babies give us that warm, fuzzy feeling.

I have a baby nephew, one of thousands born on the same day as him. What’s special about him? He does all the things that human babies do. What’s special about him is that he doesn’t need to be special, all he has to do is be the recipient to our affection and love. He asks no questions and he sets no conditions, if you want to love him he will not stop you from doing so. That’s his gift, that’s what he gives us. The bible rightly said that there is more joy is giving than receiving. It’d be good if my little nephew could love me, but the fact that I’m allowed to love him and shower him with affection is a gift to myself.

My “daughter” being sick

Mexibunny, my little pet, has been destroying my house. More recently, she has also hurt her ear so I’ve had to pay her a little more attention. She’ll be ok and it’s only minor, but I am just like the worried mothers I see every day coming in to my consulting room with their mildly-ill children terrified that they’re suffering something graver.

Family

It’s strange, they’re always there, and yet there is just something about family that makes us aware that we can’t relegate them to second place. We could skip or pass up on anything, even once-in-a-lifetime opportunities, if the alternative is to see to your family. Nothing else can justify if, not work, possibly not even our own problems; when family must be seen they must be seen. At least, that is how it is in my family.

On addictions... and my dating challenges

When I was studying psychology, one of the areas that most interested me was the field of study into addiction. It interested because a lot of human behaviour can be thought of as addictions. A lot of the things that hurt us, the very human psychological things that hurt us, we are also ironically addicted to. Hold on, but no ones like to hurt – how can we be addicted to it? Quite simply because often it is all we know how to do well. If there is one thing that is more unpleasant to humans than pain, it is change.

Think of the common scenario of a person who smokes cigarettes. Why do they smoke? Because smoking feels good! The nicotine gives you a rush, triggers off the pleasure centres of the brain, etc. Basically we smoke because psychologically we experience it as something pleasant. Why should we not smoke? Well, there’s that whole thing about lung cancer, heart disease, stroke, bladder cancers, etc. etc. But what would happen if a person who smokes stops smoking? Seriously, what will happen to that person psychologically? The truth is that the smoker can’t answer that so easily, if at all. What to do next time you’re bored or in a crowd where everyone else is drinking and smoking? What does emotion feel like without the nicotine? How to relax? How to motivate yourself? All these things that we once were reliant on the nicotine and the simple act of putting a lit cigarette to your mouth for is now so full of unknowns. The unknown is incredibly frightening, no matter how tough you are! So why face this really scary thing? Why?..

There are very few smokers out there who don’t know about lung cancer and cardiovascular disease, but there are a lot more who do know about this and yet fear something greater. But what could potentially be worse than respiratory or vascular disease? Change! The unknown! Mental anxiety! Us humans will do almost anything to avoid these most horrible of things. This is why it’s so hard to quit smoking or using any other mind-altering drug or quit just about any behaviour we engage in repetitively. Everyone has their list of things they’re addicted to. We call them addictions because they are things we engage in repetitively despite the negative consequences (physically or mentally) of engaging in these things.

I keep getting into these relationships that don’t seem to last. I want them to last. I think I try my best. I date different sorts of people to see if that helps, but it’s still the same consequence: Vanessa is almost always single. But why? Is everyone out there defective? No! That’s the reason I think I want to date these people in the first place; they seem OK. So the common factor in all the people I date is me. Woah! Yes, my ego has just taken quite a blow in admitting that, but it’s worthwhile to discuss this even if it hurts. And I had to admit this because I want to change, to end this cycle of constant rejection…

There’s a great book I read in my undergraduate years called ‘Excessive appetites: a psychological view on addictions’ by Jim Orford. It quoted this other author in something which I took very much to heart:

“… in the acquisition of a new habit or the leaving off of an old one, we must take care to launch ourselves with as strong and decided initiative as possible. Accumulate all the possible circumstances which shall re-enforce the right motives; put yourself assiduously in conditions that encourage the new way; make engagements incompatible with the old; take a public pledge, if the case allows; in short, envelop your resolution with every aid you know” (James, 1891)

I made my resolution: when I saw something I wanted, I would go in 100%. It worked marvelously in some things in my life. When I finished off my science degree and didn’t immediately get accepted into medical school, I enrolled in an honours course. It wasn’t what I wanted but I thought I’d give it a try. Everyone kept telling me it’s ok, medical research isn’t that different to clinical medicine, etc. They told me to pursue it, even. I knew it wasn’t what I wanted and instead of pursuing plan B or C or D, I decided to burn all my bridges so that in fact all I had left was plan A. That quote “make engagements incompatible with the old” really stuck with me. I quit my honours course, lost a scholarship, annoyed my supervisors and the university, and risked losing the grades I had worked so hard to attain. There was no way back and no other way than ahead with Plan A: to somehow, but eventually, get into medical school. The gamble paid off; it had to. I would have probably died trying if it hadn't...

Things get a little more complicated, though, when your plans are dependent on another human being. Recently I started to see someone new. I had met someone a little while before them, and they were a good person too. Gee, life is like that, hey! You go through droughts, then you go through floods. I made my decision; I would go in 100%. I ‘made engagements incompatible with the old’. I burnt all my bridges so I’d be left with just the one bridge that lead to the destination I wanted to go. You know what happened? Nothing. I’m still single.

So back to the drawing board I go and I’m starting to realize something about myself. Maybe I’m not a bad person; maybe I’m even what you may call a “good” person, but I am also someone who doesn’t like plans B, C, D, or any other one that isn’t A. And what I hate most is being other people’s plan B, C, or D, etc… But what is it I’m addicted to that keeps me in the position that isn’t foremost in other’s list? That is something I’ve been giving a lot of thought to. I’m not there yet, but I won’t accept this latest challenge as defeat :)

-Dedicated to R.V.... and thanks for the feedback :)

On online dating

A lot of people are doing the online dating thing these days, which I guess is a good thing, but I’d like to share some few light-hearted anecdotes I have come across in my time – yes, from my experience.

The first thing you may wonder is why do people try online dating? In fact, I think it’s better to ask what kind of people try it? The main reason people fear online dating is because they imagine that all those into online dating are either serial killers who will murder them at the restaurant they’ve agreed to meet at for dinner, or they are people who only want anonymous casual sex not “dating”, or they may believe that online dating sites are populated by the computer geeks who don’t actually leave the side of their computers to go out into the “real world”. This is mostly a false stereotype; but I could tell you a little more about the real people who try online dating. I say real people because I have met a fair few of them, either through the usual means (my friends, acquaintances, colleagues, etc) or people I personally have met by this method.

So why do people - people like you or me - try online dating? Because they want to meet people to date, right? Isn’t that the point? Yes! So, none of the people I have known have told me that they wanted to try online dating for the anonymous sex, to scam vulnerable people, or to rape or murder someone. So you’d think these people would be in the minority, right? Right. So who is doing all the online dating, then? I’d say 40% are “normal” people who are sick and tired of waiting around for the right person to show up through the traditional means of meeting people at a bar or through mutual friends. Another 48% or so are also people sick of waiting around to meet someone through traditional means, but have actually struggled to succeed in this because of some serious character flaws like being emotionally unstable or unavailable, scarily bordering on being a stalker, and/or having some sort of psychiatric/personality disorder. The rest are the sex maniacs looking strictly for quick hook-ups (probably behind the wife’s back) (2%), and scammers trying the modern version of “gold-digging” to make some money off the vulnerable (10%).

So if you’re of the normal 40% of people who try online dating, how do you avoid the 60% of online daters you don’t want to end up dating? Well, I’d like to just share some tips on the language of online dating I have found. When you read people’s profiles on dating sites no-one writes on there that they are obese, unemployed, diagnosed with a mental disorder, homeless, have poor dentition, are arrogant little brats, or anything of the sort. No, they tell you that they “love to travel”, or “they enjoy spending time with family and friends”, that they’re “fun-loving”, “creative”, “enjoy exercising”, “love BBQs”, “enjoy movies”…  which could be just about anyone on the planet! Someone on an online-dating site blog once said, ‘if you’re so great, why are you single and on here?’. My point exactly. So you have to be smart about reading what people say about themselves the same way you have to be discerning when reading what real estate agents write about the properties they are trying to sell. Here’s a little list of online dating translations I’ve noted:

Love animals = Crazy cat lady. Never want to have children. Ever.

Vegetarian = Militant animal activist (Nothing wrong with being a vegetarian, but if they tell you this on their profile, they’ll shout “Murderer!” if you order a non-vegetarian dish at dinner.)

Cute = Obese

Fun = Crazy and/or alcoholic

Love to travel = Unstable

Enjoy life = Unemployed

Love ink (aka ‘love tattoos’) = Unemployed, drug-addicted, alcoholic, physically-aggressive, and/or ex-prisoner.

Creative = Working menial jobs while waiting for their “big break”, but in the meantime you're paying for all outings.

Educated / Have a degree = Arrogant prick

Don’t read books much = Can’t read, never finished primary school

I don’t want any drama = I am a drama queen, possibly a stalker

Bubbly = Friendly alcoholic

Open-minded = Hippy and/or psychotic

I don’t want a mini-me = I hate myself, you, and all of society

Easy-going = I don’t have any of my own opinions or preferences

Over the bar and club scene = I have STDs

I love my job = I have no actual time to get to know anyone, but I just don’t want to list my relationship status as ‘single’ anymore

I enjoy going for long walks = I enjoy masturbating… often. Also, I’m unemployed and have no car

I like to spoil that special someone = I will stalk you until you love me, or the restraining order do us part

…If that’s you, contact me = I guarantee I will have sex with you on the first date

I hope that helps someone avoid the 60% of fruit-loops out there in the online dating game. Learn from my fails. J

And never, ever, ever, under any circumstance, should you date someone who says “I don’t want any drama". They love it! Especially if the police have to get involved!

On 'what's going on' with me

'The Thinker', on top of 'The Gates of Hell'. Auguste Rodin.

O.J. Simpson once said, "They say people don't change, but I say they're wrong. People change, but it's usually for the worst". He may be a man that doesn't always speak the truth, but he wasn't too wrong in saying that. Or maybe he was. I've always believed that in life change is inevitable, but qualitatively neither good or bad, just inevitable.

Recently I've had some well-meaning people ask me "what's wrong", "what's going on with you". Now, to the majority of the non-family, non-religiously-affiliated of my friends this question may seem a little odd so allow me to provide a little background. Who is Vanessa? Some people that know me may answer this differently to other people who know me. Which is the right version? Both! All angles, probably. I'm no different to anyone in this respect. But a lot of people who know me from either being family or a religious peer will describe me as shy, non-engaging, quiet, and abiding. They see me that way because I was that way for such a long time. I am not the perfect Christian or the perfect relative, but I am presumed to be pretty close to it. Worse than being presumed to be perfect is to buy into the belief that you have to be. Even worse than that is knowing you are being evaluated at every encounter to ensure you still meet the same criteria. What can I tell you about me? I can tell you I am human.... And let's consider humans for a little while.

A human is born a small dependent child that needs the basic things we need thoughout our lives: nutrition, hydration, protection, sensory stimulation, social contact, and what we broadly call love. The difference between a child and a grown adult is that the child is initially dependent on others for all these basic needs. As he enters adolescence the social contact he needs becomes more than that of his parents and immediate family members; he seeks and needs the interaction with other peers. Later, maybe into puberty, he comes to crave a sexual relationship (whether that be physically or emotionally intimate or both). As adults we don't stop developing; our physical, social, and psychological needs change and the tasks we have to achieve to meet these needs change too. We are a constantly growing being.

Have I changed? I hope to God I have! I'd hate to still be thought of that defenceless child lying in a cot with only a cry to communicate my needs, and then waiting and needing someone to come help me meet them. Everyone changes. It's human to. It's inevitable in this skin and body to stop being human without killing yourself and hoping that those things we believe in about the afterlife are true, whatever they may be.

What's going on with me? The same thing that is going on with every other human being: living, experience, change. I can narrow one thing down, though. I was always an insecure, shy, quiet girl when I was younger. Gradually, and very very slowly I must add, I became a bit more and more confident. And by confidence in my sense I mean more at ease at accepting that I am also human, and at the same time that it is okay to be and feel different to others. I became confident to form my own identity. A long time ago Erikson, a psychologist, described a series of psychosocial stages of development that a human being transgresses as he grows chronologically older. Everyone ages; everyone equally and inevitably must grow psychologically. I guess where I am different from a lot of other people is that because of my pathological shyness, the formation of my own identity didn't happen when it does in most people: puberty / adolescence. Me, as I've mentioned in a previous post, I couldn't even look at my own body comfortably until I was 26 years old. 26! I couldn't believe or accept that that body I had to look at only because I couldn't get away from it, belonged to and was me. And that was the external aspect; I can't even begin to explain what the psychological experience I struggled with, these feelings of depersonilization and unreality, were like. I reached 26 years without yet fully defining and deciding who Vanessa was. And I'm 29 now... There are those that are intellectually retarded, I guess I prove that you can also be psychosocially retarded :)

On mental illness / addiction

Recently I went to a show by comedian Wil Anderson and he spoke of what we commonly call addiction and mental illness. Now, I don’t mean to spoil the show for anyone, but I thought some points he made were very valid (and hilarious).

Last week I wrote about the strain mental illness places on relationships and about having more tolerance for the mentally ill. The point arose about certain people then using their illness as an excuse to any and all misbehaviour. I suggested that the person whose behaviour is really a result of their mental illness and not just personality traits will often lack insight into what it is they are doing or saying, but upon being confronted will often be apologetic of their behaviour and try to change. The person who is simply someone acting wrongly and then not apologizing for their behaviour but rather suggesting it is all part of their illness and you are in fact wrong for judging them negatively – that person is most probably just a person will a bad attitude who happens to also have a mental illness. Of course, it’s not always that simple and the lines are often very blurry between what is intentional misbehaviour and what is sequelae to the condition. Now, let me raise another scenario (which Wil Anderson raised in the show): what about those people that don’t have a mental illness diagnosis misbehaving?

What I mean is people who are not known to be suffering any mental illness suddenly noted to be doing something wrong and then identifying themselves as mentally ill and thus not responsible for their misbehaviour. As an example suggested by Wil is someone like Tiger Woods who as far as everyone (even his partner) knew was just a normal guy doing extraordinary things on the golf course. Then it became widely known that he was engaging in sex with a lot of women outside of his marriage, and without the knowledge of his spouse. He didn’t deny what was reported, but he did then claim to have a sexual addiction which no-one not even close family and friends had ever known he had. Not having ever met Mr. Woods, I can’t comment on his specific case but the questions that arises are: Isn’t that suspect timing for a diagnosis? And is there such a thing as sexual addiction?

Diagnostically a mental disorder implies that there is interference in a person’s social and or psychological functioning due to the behaviour, for example loss of jobs or relationships, etc. Substance abuse / addiction implies that a ‘substance’, which can be anywhere from alcohol, heroin, or a behaviour such as gambling, continues to be used/repeated despite negative sequelae from it. For example, a person who uses intravenous heroin on the weekends for recreation and the rest of the week holds down a job and has a good relationship with friends and relatives and is not in financial strife isn’t a “heroin addict”, simply a heroin user. If as a result of his heroin use he came to lose his job, money, relationships, housing, etc. and still continued to use heroin despite this, then that person could be said to have an addiction. The interesting thing about celebrities claiming sexual addictions (or other mental illnesses for that matter) to account for their misbehaviour is that they do often lose out financially and psychosocially after their misbehaviour is uncovered. The usual course of the story is that they then enter an addiction rehab centre and they’re “cured”. Suspect? Maybe. Real? You could anecdotally note that celebrities seem to have a much lower relapse rate after rehab than your traditional addict entering a rehab program… or maybe they have better support systems as a result of money and/or fame or family and friends… or some would say maybe they were never sick in the first place. It’s easier to cure a paraplegic who can walk than one with a severed spinal cord.

What about sexual addiction? If it meets the criteria of interfering negatively on a person’s psychosocial functioning and the person continues to engage in it despite these negative effects, then a person can be addicted to almost any substance or behaviour. A person with a sexual addiction, for example, may continue to engage in repeated sexual activity until the extent that it impacts on their ability to hold down a job because they ‘need’/want sexual stimulation at regular times, they may struggle to keep stable romantic or even family/friend types of relationships because of promiscuity and perhaps even indiscrimination as to sexual partners or context; it may cause legal problems, and it may cause physical health complaints such as sexually-transmitted infections. The short answer is yes, there is such a thing as sexual addiction. Is everyone who cheats on their partner a ‘sex addict’, though? No, of course not. If he/she manages the rest of their life well and just happens to be very adept at concealing sexual encounters with other people from their partner, then they’re probably not ill, just claiming to be so as to deny responsibility for their behaviour. Which raises another concept Wil Anderson spoke about, you can’t be “a little” addicted, or “a little” mentally ill. Psychiatry makes it really easy, actually: you either meet the criteria for a mental disorder or you don’t.

And one last topical mention: Charlie Sheen. When he started shooting off his mouth, behaving differently to the ‘good boy’ Charlie Sheen we all for some reason thought we knew, people started branding him as “bipolar”. Now, Mr. Sheen himself denied ever being diagnosed with bipolar disorder and reported drug and alcohol use which he was not ashamed of. Was he lacking insight into the manic phase of a bipolar disorder? Could be. Or maybe he just wasn’t sick at all and is one of a few celebrities who is honest enough not to use a mental disorder as an excuse for general human misbehaviour.

On doing it all over again

There’s a saying in Spanish that says that man is the only species to trip on the same stone twice. In fact, I remember reading in a neuroscience text once about how homo sapiens is the only species that despite having suffered an adverse reaction to something that they ate, would be willing to eat it again. Are we stupid? Or are we the only species capable of hope?

Behavioural research experiments have shown that almost any living animal can be “taught” to respond in a predictable manner. You show a dog food and they instinctively salivate. You show a dog some food and sound a bell at the same time and the dog salivates. You do that enough times and the dog will come to associate the bell (not just food – and in fact, soon only the bell without the food) with salivation. You can train almost any animal to respond like this.

Most animals can also “teach” themselves (or their trainers) to respond in a certain manner. For example, a pigeon may notice once that when he spun to the right, he received a food reward. He will spin to the right again and see if he gets more food. Maybe he does, maybe he doesn’t, but it’s worth another shot, right? Of course, look at what’s at stake! There’s a perceived benefit to doing something in a particular way. Soon, the pigeon may find himself spinning and spinning, awaiting his reward and perhaps only erratically receiving it. Maybe he has to spin ten times before he is rewarded just once, the next time maybe only twice, the next feed may be 100 spins away – but it always seems so worth it!

The scenario described above about the pigeon is often quoted as an example of how almost any living creature is capable of superstition. A person or animal can do something because they believe they will receive a particular response, regardless of whether the behavior and the reward are causally linked. This belief can consist of a primitive or instinctive behavior in any animal or it can be a complex behavior derived from a complex centralized neurophysiological process (such as a ‘planned’ behavior initiated in a human cerebral cortex). Now, along with the concept of superstition comes the concept of addiction. A creature can derive so much pleasure from a thing (food, physical sensation, drug, drink, etc.), that he will continue to engage in repetitive behavior in order to attain it. He can continue to engage in the behavior even when he only seldom receives the reward, or even when as a result of behaving a certain way he suffers negatively. Why does this happen? Because some things seem so worth it!

We are very much like animals in some ways, and yet why is the human species different to other complex animals? Is it the cerebral cortex and its ability to house our sense of conscious planning, to perceive time, to exercise self-control, and to delay pleasure for perceived greater reward? Or is it our ability to hope and believe - even when what we believe is not biologically advantageous? To believe in things like love.

Most higher species are capable of caring for their young and will engage in what to the human eye appears to be affection. But can other animals love? What is love? I pose this question because love is one of the most addictive things on this planet. The reward, the pleasure in it, is that warm sensation of being "in love" and - if we're lucky enough - also of being loved. You fall in love and you forget about all those other times you thought you were in love. You forget of how much it hurt, you forget how hard it is to make any relationship work, you forget that every interaction with another human being will involve friction regardless of how much the people involved love each other. You risk hurting again. You risk losing. You risk your time, efforts, and emotional investment. You risk it even though you know the statistics. We tell ourselves 'no, this time it'll be perfect, we'll make it work, etc.' The reality is that from one relationship to the next we change very little yet expect a different result, a much more pleasant and successful result, each time. That is the stuff of superstitions, of addiction, of madness. And yet we do it. We fall in love again and again like a junkie addicted to the high. And we do it all because taking the risk - and the potential reward – seems AND IS so damn worth it!

On love and fear

I'm heartbroken again this week so there's only one thing on my mind: porn... No, I mean love ! :)

...And the way that fear can really screw up lives. Below are a few stories that come to mind when I think about this topic. You may think of these as examples.

1.
The first story starts like this: This guy and girl fall in love. That happens the usual way it normally does, according to the same standard sequence: exposure, proximity, knowledge, understanding, affection, intimacy, and, eventually, love. Nothing new there. But there’s a key point in the ‘knowledge’ stage that the girl missed in the boy’s story: he can’t biologically father children, and what she wants more than anything in the world is to be a mother. But they’ve fallen in love, they love each other and love can conquer anything, right? Right? Wrong. Love sometimes can’t overcome fear. The guy starts freaking out about the girl constantly speaking about their future, their children, their life together as a family, etc. He sees the girl’s eyes beam with excitement and hope and expectation – expectations he can’t meet. So one day he tells her the part they skipped, that he can’t biologically father her children. Now, the girl having fallen absolutely in love with this guy, loving every part about him, loving him in the way only real love can be truly accepting, she tells him it doesn’t matter. Either they will find a way around his “problem” medically, they will adopt a child, or she will accept her life’s gift as loving that man she so whole-heartedly wants to share her life with. Happy endings seem in favour, right? Not once this horrible thing called fear sets in. The boy has his doubts. He loves this girl, he thinks he does, he would do almost anything for her, but he’s unsure about ending his singledom at such a young age. Of course, he doesn’t even understand this himself. He believes he truly loves her. He believes he is giving his all to this girl. He believes it will never work out. Eventually he tells this girl everything that is in his heart, everything except that truth he doesn’t even yet understand: he is scared of changing his life for a new one, even if that new life includes the person who loves him most in the universe. So when the boy tells the girl that he has to leave her, to end this once-great thing, he tells her that he loves her and that it is for that reason that he can’t be with her. Yes, fear does make us believe words like these are true. He tells her he wants her to be happy, to have her children like she previously planned, to have all she wants. He wants her happiness so much he is willing to sacrifice his own happiness in exchange for her fulfilling all her dreams. He doesn’t hear her say that it doesn’t matter, that the dream has changed, that he has now become an essential priority in her life without which the rest of it doesn’t make sense - with or without the children she (before meeting him) so badly wanted. He continues to tell her that it is LOVE that is forcing him make this decision, he tells himself this so often too that it feels like the truth. And that’s what fear can do to you; it’s like the devil disguising himself as an angel of light. It can make you believe that your actions are actually motivated by love and not that soul-sucking fear that ruins so many wonderful opportunities in this life.

2.
The second story is a little different. Here we have a woman of 27 years old. She is a girl who got used to always being the winner. She had the job she wanted, the apartment she wanted, the money she wanted, etc. She had everything except that thing she always wanted: to be loved by someone. Of course she didn’t like this because she wasn’t used to not having what she wanted and because life can be pretty lonely all by yourself. So one day she meets this guy who agrees to go out with her. They have a good time, he’s a nice person, and they share a lot of similar interests. She convinces herself that this guy is “the one” and so she does everything she can to secure him. She pleases him in every way he needs and wants. He doesn’t take advantage of her; no, he’s actually a nice guy, but she becomes too focused on convincing him that he must be the one that she starts scaring him away. Now, his fear isn’t so irrational because she’s quickly changing from the girl he was initially attracted to into this desperate girl he had no idea existed under that same skin. She starts smothering him with affection, wanting constant attention, feeling rejected and lashing out against him when she doesn’t get it, and basically overwhelming him in her “love”. Eventually he, of course, gets so scared of what she’s become and will become later on that he leaves her. That’s not irrational, the fear that killed the love in this situation was not that. The girl’s fear of being alone, of continuing lonely, of dying alone and without anyone was what killed it. She let this fear overwhelm her so much that it caused her to destroy her chances at having the very same thing she desired most: love, unconditional and undying love.

3.
Did you ever read that story ‘Oranges are Not the Only Fruit’ by Jeannette Winterson? The third story is about this – and this book was based on a true story so let me orientate you a little if you haven’t read it yet. It’s about this girl, a nice little white girl with freckles who come from a small village in England and who has a father that is a preacher. The whole family is quite religious – no, actually, VERY religious. They go to meetings several times a week, they sing hymns together, and every family has the aim that the boys of the family will become ministers and all the girls will grow up to be missionaries. The rule book says they have to marry another person from their faith, and, of course, this is so ingrained into everyone at such a early age that everyone wants this too. Anyhow, the thing with this girl is she meets another girl at a church meeting but this other girl is a little more risqué. Naturally, she develops an attraction towards this girl because she’s everything the good little church girl isn’t: confident, self-assured, brave, and daring. The friendly attraction develops into a crush and, slowly, into love. And basically that’s the premise of the book: two devoutly Christian girls having a love for each other that the rulebook condemns. So initially the girls embrace the challenge, they believe love isn’t wrong despite gender or religious creed, they believe THEY can make it. And, of course, it isn’t easy because it’s a small rural town, it’s the 1970s or so, there’s the “God will punish me; I’m going to go hell for this” thing, there’s the “my family will hate me for it” thing, there’s the “this isn’t normal (aka common)” thing. But they give it a go, and things aren’t easy but the girls truly are in love -or at least one of them is- and it’s worth it! Now, let me return to that statement of ‘at least one of them is’. What I mean to say is that perhaps they were both truly in love or maybe the good-girl fell in love but the other didn’t or vice versa, the result either way is the same: they (or at least one of them) allowed themselves to be defeated by fear. The end of the story is that the two girls separate, the ‘bad-girl’ to a life with a man and a kid, etc. The other girl moves on because what else can you do? You either fight to defend your team, your unit, or there is nothing there worth fighting for. At one point one of the girls let her fear of rejection from her family or her religious affiliates or God or society overshadow this thing she once claimed to feel: love. Or maybe it was even her own fear of letting another being into her world, her own need for control and self-sufficiency that scared her into cowardice. Either way, again, fear has kept two perfectly deserving human beings from experiencing this great blessing from God that is love.

4.
The last story is a rather common one. Basically, this boy falls in love with this girl and the girl, because she is bored in her life, decides to go along with this ‘love story’. They start dating, sleeping together, hanging out for extendedly longer and longer periods of time, etc. Eventually he reaches the stage when he is sure he is in love with her so he tells her so. He says the first “I love you”. She doesn’t know yet that they’re more than just words, she doesn’t yet know what love in any form means at all, so she says it back to him too. He believes it! So they go on as if ‘in love’. Now, while the guy has gone on in his head planning his and this girl’s lives together, she hasn’t stopped living hers the way she was before. She is still sexually-involved with other acquaintances, she still uses drugs to numb the pain of her troubled childhood, she still plans to move away overseas (with or without the boy in question). Of course, he doesn’t know this. So eventually it all falls apart when the boy naturally finds out. It falls apart because the girl let it. This girl had never known a loyal love, never experienced real love from someone who wasn’t trying to just take advantage of her, and she hadn’t yet learnt to love herself. One thing she did know very well was fear, to run from that which seems frightful and with potential to leave you vulnerable and hurt, to have a back-up or escape plan to avoid this, to not allow yourself to not be in control in the situation. This thing her boyfriend spoke about, this “love”, required self-sacrifice not just survival. It required trust, which she had taken from her from a very early age. It required a little courage to just allow things to evolve, but she had a desperate need for control if she was to avoid her childhood repeating itself. Underneath it all she did one day hope that she would either learn to be purely self-reliant with no actual need for other human beings in her life, or that she would meet someone who wasn’t like all the people that had betrayed her trust in the past. But the possibility of both those things was scary and so she ran. The boy got over it – because, seriously, no-one ever really dies from heartbreak.

Why am I telling you these stories? Because I’m heartbroken.
Some people when they leave you will tell you that they will never love again. They tell you this as if it mattered. It doesn’t. As long as you’re alive, there’s always the possibility of falling in love again. And it doesn’t matter! Who you love only matters to the person you love and there’s no shame in loving again, the same way there is no honour in not loving again. There’s the possibility of anything in this world, why not love? It’s great!

Thanks for reading.

On my dad

My father’s name is José René Armando Salazar Borja. I often tell people that I don’t know whether he is alive or dead and most people think I’m joking. I’m so not. I prefer to think of him as dead not because I am a spiteful person but because I assumed he was dead from about the time I was 19. The thing is that if I found out now that he is in fact alive but sick or dying -and then he died- then I’d have to mourn him twice. I mourned him once; that should be enough for one lifetime. If he was alive he would most likely be very old and sick because he was much much older than my mum – and last we heard of him he was sick already.

My father was a carpenter and I’m lead to believe he has the father to another 14 children, two of which I’ve met. In his time he was also an avid baseball player and liked the drink. My mum has told me this and I have no reason to doubt her. My favourite story that my mum tells me of my father is the way he confessed to her that he used to be an alcoholic. Apparently he used to be an alcoholic of the type that is homeless, lives on the street, eats, drinks, and pees where he sleeps and is completely dissociated from his whole world. I don’t know how long he was like this, but I think he must have been lonely and feeling defeated. I have felt lonely and defeated at times and I don’t wish that upon anyone. However, this story makes me very strangely proud of my father. I’ve always believed that the hardest thing to do is not to say “no” to drugs, but leaving a vice that has become so ingrained in you that leaving it is comparable to tearing your skin off and dressing yourself in a new cloak. I have incredible respect for the people who can do this. To me it seems so heroic, despite the fact that these battles are usually fought in gutters rather than on stages. That is my favourite story about my dad, and that happened before he even met my mum. This story is probably also the real reason why I have never been keen to drink alcohol.

My father was a good carpenter, too. He was a cabinetmaker, and a very creative and productive one at that. Apart from his work, he made me and my siblings multiple things throughout my childhood. When I was in high school, I really absolutely loved woodwork (and metalwork), but especially the sensation of making things, the smell of the timber, and the way it can be so delicate and yet sturdy. I really liked art too, but my mum would not hear of that. At one point I considered doing cabinetmaking as a career (and probably the only other career besides medicine that I contemplated for more than a few minutes), but I knew I couldn’t face living in the shadow of my father. He was very skilled, how good could I possibly ever be? I would always be the carpenter’s daughter, and I couldn’t face that. I admit it was also my pride in not wanting mum’s family to associate me with his family more than her’s that discouraged me. In the end my family has always known that the dream of working with timber is always on the back of my mind as something that I might get to at some stage of my life.

My father was married and had a wife with four children when he met my mother, of course he didn’t tell her this until after she told him she was pregnant with me. My mum had four children of her own at that stage and widowed; she was 27. Apparently my dad wanted to leave his wife but my mum knew how hard it is to raise four children as a single mother in a third-world country so she couldn’t do that to another woman. The arrangement was that mum would care for me and my dad would visit periodically. Both lived up to their ends of the bargain and I resent neither of them for this.

The last time I saw my father was in August 1990 on the day before we moved to Australia. I spent the day mostly with two of his daughters (which to this day I struggle to call sisters because we’re still strangers) and I saw him a few times that day. Then mum came and picked me up and we went back home. It wasn’t like saying goodbye to family at all; to me at that age (about 9) he was more an acquaintance of mum’s that I had to call “papi”. Only in retrospect have I started to think of what being a father actually means.

Through the years I have met many people my age who come from traditional families who speak of their fathers as they do of their mothers. To me this is one of this universe’s most difficult things to understand. I think I came close one day to understanding quantum physics, relativity, thermodynamics, organic chemistry, and advanced calculus, but this concept of a male parent has had me beat. It is such a foreign concept to me; it’s like you’re trying to explain to me a colour that I’ve never seen on this planet. But I listen and I try my hardest to understand, but a male parent that you could compare to your mother? I find it so beyond my ability to reason that it’s actually a little embarrassing. I don’t know that I will ever understand; my mum to me is unique and no-one, no matter how good or loving or constantly present they are, could ever compare to what she means to me.

After my family and I left El Salvador, my mum and dad would write letters to each other about me, how I was doing, etc. For reasons I won’t go into, when I was about 15, my father chose to disassociate from my family, which I guess as a kid meant from me. So someone I barely knew decided to not know me at all; at least that’s how I reasoned it at that stage. I wasn’t bothered by it. To me he was always the equivalent of a sperm donor to my mum and had contributed to me after that only a last name. I wasn’t resentful, but I also didn’t actually take the time to care. Through the years I tried to care, I tried to convince myself it should mean something to me, but mostly I could only form theories of how I should feel but I admit I didn’t actually feel them. I imagined I should have felt rejected, unappreciated, anger towards him, spite, etc. I didn’t. A stranger I barely knew and was barely in my life had chosen to no longer be in my life altogether. How could I care?

So what in conclusion do I feel about my father? I acknowledge him. I wear his last name and will do so until the day I die, same as I do mum’s. I feel no resentment towards him. I feel no love for him except that which we owe all human beings. Mum attributes my enthusiasm for creative expression and art to him (she hates art), and if it’s true, I thank him for those genes. I admire his genius and talent at carpentry. I am grateful for the fact his alcoholism story has put me off alcohol my whole life. And I am incredibly happy that in his absence I was able to develop such a great relationship with my mum and the three brothers and sister that have always been in my life.

R.I.P. José René Armando Salazar Borja

...Or good health to you if you’re still alive, old man :)