Anxiety Study: The Results

(Click HERE for the survey.)

Okay, time for the results of the anxiety study from last Friday! First, a little background.

If you look at any relationship under stress, one individual will act out the role of the "clinger" and one will act out the role of the "avoider." What do I mean? The clinger is the one who feels better by getting closer, hanging on, not letting go. The avoider feels better with distance, walls, and space. In a way, one begets the other. The clinger chases the avoider harder because of the avoiding, and the avoider runs faster because of clinging. However, both ultimately want the same thing, i.e., not to be alone. It's just that the clinger's primary fear is that losing this particular person will be worse than being alone, and the avoider's primary fear is that being with this particular person will hurt worse than being alone.

Clinger/avoider behaviors are relative things. People can switch sides. A hard core avoider can come up against an even greater avoider and suddenly look like a clinger. However, I believe that each person has a basic preference one way or the other. They will tend to play one of the roles in relationships repeatedly. My question is WHY? What accounts for the different approaches? What fuels it? As I try to boil human behaviors down to their lowest common denominators, I came to suspect that the basic force at work here is the physical experience of anxiety.

MY HYPOTHESIS: Avoiders are people who tend to experience substantial levels of anxiety when faced with the emotions of other people. Clingers, on the other hand, will exhibit more normal emotional boundaries, because drawing closer to a person requires you to endure more exposure to that person's feelings. I posit that avoiders cannot endure the price of clinging behaviors. It is their anxiety that drives them away.

The questions in my survey targeted a wide range of social situations which might spark anxiety. The last three questions were designed to see whether you strongly identify with either avoiding or clinging behaviors. Regardless of how my hypothesis turns out, if you answered "strongly agree" to question 21 and you scored high in many anxiety categories, then anxiety may be a powerful, negative force in your life. You may not even be aware of all of its effects. I'll be doing a follow-up post on how anxiety and "anxious attachments" might be gnawing away quality of life. Anxious attachment is a preoccupation with the fear of losing the people you care about.

Okay, so how did my hypothesis turn out? Six responders indicated high agreement with avoider behavior. Three responders indicated high agreement with clinger behaviors. Four responders did not indicate an anxious attachment style (question 21), and also did not strongly correlate with either avoiding or clinging.

RESULTS: Avoiders scored the highest overall for anxiety with an average score of 5.8 of 10. Clingers came next with an average of 5.0. Interestingly, the group without an anxious attachment style scored sharply lower with an average anxiety level of only 2.8.

It appears that my hypothesis was correct in that avoiders experience the highest levels of anxiety of the three groups. In 8 of the 20 questions, avoiders scored at least 1.0 points more anxious than clingers on average. In only 2 of the 20 questions did clingers score at least 1.0 points more anxious than avoiders on average.

What's fascinating is which questions were the most predictive of avoiders and which were the most predictive for clingers.

Avoider Predictors (Highest Comparative Anxiety)
-Watching movies full of tense drama, conflicts, and heartbreak.
-In childhood, being yelled at.
-Someone crying in front of you.
-Public speaking/group attention.
-Failing to meet your parents' expectations.

Each of these situations involve either the expression of emotion or a generalized, impersonal threat of judgment/rejection.

Only one question was a big predictor of clingers.

Clinger Predictor (Highest Comparative Anxiety)
-In childhood, being separated from your parents.

That really fits, doesn't it? The loss itself is the greatest fear. It eclipses any anxiety generated by the being with a person.

In conclusion, wide-ranging anxiety seems to correlate with anxious attachments and strong avoider/clinger behaviors. As the anxiety levels increase, especially in emotional situations, it becomes more likely that a person will react to an anxious attachment with avoiding behaviors. Clingers may experience slightly less overall anxiety, but they may exhibit a history of sharp anxiety associated with separation from parents. People without an anxious attachment style tend to experience much lower levels of anxiety overall.

An Anxiety Study

I've been thinking about the impact of anxiety on our lives. Especially the kind of anxiety that circles around our relationships and attachments. I've been hatching a new theory about how our level of vulnerability to social anxiety (or lack of vulnerability) affects the way we approach relationships and operate within them.

Are you willing to help me test my theory?

First, some background. Let's talk about anxiety. By "anxiety" I mean physical symptoms of anxiety: pounding heart, tightness in your chest, cold sweat, nervousness, a feeling of dread, etc. These are measurable things. Objective and palpable.

Secondly, I'm targeting a specific source of anxiety, namely the kind of anxiety that is sparked by interactions with other people. For example, anxiety about a breakup or your friend getting pissed at you. There are other potent sources of anxiety of course, such as fear of physical violence or going to the dentist. These kinds of anxiety relate to physical pain. I want to steer clear of those in this study.

I've put together a survey to explore how much social anxiety you experience in your life. For each question, rank yourself on a scale of 1 to 10 on the strength of the anxiety you would feel in that particular situation (i.e., the intensity of the physical symptoms). 1 means you feel no anxiety at all. 5 is moderate, but bearable anxiety. 10 is severe and unbearable anxiety compelling you to take immediate action to stop it.

The Questions

How much anxiety do you feel when:

1. Watching movies full of tense drama, conflicts, and heartbreak.

2. In childhood, being yelled at.

3. In childhood, being separated from your parents.

4. When a person acts angry or sad in your presence, but not because of something you did.

5. When a person acts angry or sad in your presence because of something you did.

6. Witnessing strangers arguing/fighting.

7. Someone crying in front of you.

8. Public speaking/group attention.

9. Facing a deadline in work, school, or other commitment.

10. Sitting down to a written test in which your score will be known to others.

11. Getting the silent treatment.

12. Thinking that you might not be invited.

13. Thinking that you might be invited.

14. Being left alone.

15. Being the object of someone's interest.

16. Your partner acts like he/she is disappointed in you or unsatisfied with you.

17. Your partner is angry at you.

18. Revealing the person you are.

19. Failing to meet your parents' expectations.

20. Disagreeing with someone.

For each of these final questions, please indicate whether you either strongly disagree, somewhat disagree, somewhat agree, or strongly agree.

21. If there is a person I want to be with, I am quick to feel anxiety if I feel that the person is drifting away from me or is not liking me.

22. If I ever feel anxiety that the person I want to be with is drifting away from me or is not liking me, the solution is usually to get even closer to the person and let him/her know how I feel. My first thought is to try harder to succeed with that person.

23. If I ever feel anxiety that the person I want to be with is drifting away from me or is not liking me, the solution is usually to distance myself from the person and hide my feelings. My first thought is to protect myself from that person.

I'll let you know how my hypothesis works out. (Feel free to answer anonymously if you'd like.) Thanks for weighing in with your own experiences!!

(Click HERE for the results.)

Damming

all of us
dam people
counting years
mixing cement
for hydro construction
we don't collect the tortures
they find us
like puppy dogs dripping with disease
a parade of horrors
down Main Street
like wanting
or clinging
or ignoring
or fearing
or demanding
or stealing
so we build our dams
to hold back brimming waters
with morals
or fantasies
or rationalization
or isolation
or expectation
or religion
our cozy little roughshod dams
might let us
get some
sleep

A Hunter's Mysticism

~~A forest is never the same twice. It's always changing. Choose your path before you walk, and see where every step will fall.

~~Never go backward. Only forward. No matter how hard the terrain ahead.



~~Know what colors and textures a plant never makes.

~~The more patient animal usually wins, whether human or prey.



~~Never trust a sound in the wind. Like a mirage in the desert, a breeze in the forest is a siren's song of lies.



(Pictures from Wayne County, Pennsylvania, U.S. Infrared trail camera.)

The Desirers and the Safeties

This week I've been looking for the two ends of a certain spectrum. A spectrum measuring how emotionally secure we felt in our childhood, and how this foundation is carried forward and expresses itself in adulthood. Keep in mind, however, that in my delving this week, I've been targeting those more polarized ends of the spectrum. Many people will fall somewhere in the middle and will have a very mixed result in my "a" and "b" questions. Those folks won't feel a consistent pull one way or the other. However, if you felt predominantly drawn to "a" answers, then you may fall on the "desiring" end of the spectrum. If you felt predominantly drawn to "b" answers, then may fall on the "safety" end of the spectrum. The two groups that I'm positing to today are the desirers and the safeties. Perhaps by the end of this discussion, you'll feel that one of these groups describes you.

So what are the key features of each group? How does each approach attachments with other people (especially their lovers), albeit from opposite directions? I think it boils down to this. When forming attachments, desirers are looking to heal a missing primary security from childhood. On the other hand, the safeties are looking to maintain and protect a primary security gained in childhood. What do I mean by a primary security? A sense that the people around you understand you, like you, want to be with you, and can be counted on to without a doubt to stay with you. It's that glow you feel when you really, really want to be with a person, and that person really, really wants to be with you, and it endures. That primary security can come from family and/or friends. However, if it's lacking from your parents, you may have a more difficult time feeling sufficiently secure in friend relationships.

So, desirers are screwed up and safeties are blessed, right? No. I'm positing that both groups have substantial gifts and substantial challenges. Understanding how each group reacts to emotional pushes and pulls may be helpful in reducing some of the conflicts that each group finds themselves in from time to time. Unchecked, those conflicts can even be crippling.

THE DESIRERS

First, lets talk about the desirers. If you answered "a" to question number 1, and you predominantly answered "a" to the rest of questions, and if you felt a strong affinity with those "a" statements, then you are most likely a desirer.

Desires are looking to heal a childhood they perceive as having insufficient love and affirmation of who they are as a person. They have a deep fear/belief that people will let them down or not stick with them, because that was the environment in which they formed their self-identity. Not having something makes the yearning for it stronger. The same with love. The intensity with which desirers hope that a unique and rare person will heal them is their defining trait. The intensity and the hidden pessimism are where desirers have challenges.

Something curious happens in an environment where love is extremely conditional or withheld altogether. Desirers often become other-person oriented and emotionally enmeshed in others. Because real love is hard to come by, they learn that most affirmation they received is given on their parents' terms. As long as they perform as expected, they will be loved. In response, desirers attempt to please the other person first. Their own emotions come second. For this process to work and be predictable enough for some sense of safety, desirers must be observant and aware of other people. They must be skilled and attuned in order to do the right things to get affirmation. This careful awareness of pleasing others can make desirers very adept at attracting and for giving people what they need. However, deep down, these gifts are conditional. Desirers are weaving these careful constructs in the desperate hope to find and keep this wished-for healing person and not be alone. Although desirers can be very alluring in their propensity to give, give, give, the moment they feel violated or that their investment in a person is mistaken, they can abruptly turn and flash with shocking anger or icy indifference. Desirers become hypersensitive when hovering around these old fears and hurts. Once a relationship begins to evoke the old emotions of childhood, it usually degrades as the other person begins to react to the desirer's hypersensitivity in ways that the desirer believes is further proof that the person is a threat.

Pros of Desirers

Desirers can be very skilled and perceptive. Flexible and hard working to please others. They are often motivated to develop impressive talents and other assets which will "prove" to the right people that they are really a desirable person to be with (something the parents did not see). That they really are worthy of enduring love. Desirers also tend to give what they are hoping to receive. They will give deep understanding and personal affirmation in the hope that the other person will reciprocate.

Cons of Desirers

The construct of pleasing the other person first and suppressing one's own needs can be very unhealthy and actually enable others to take the desirers for granted. Desirers can appear to be very strong and not need anyone. They may be leaders, but they don't truly want to lead. They want to be seen, and then be chosen.

In trying so hard to give what they themselves want, desirers can often either attract, or build, relationships with people who feed from the desirer's passion and energy, but are not equipped to reciprocate. The desirer keeps making the first move, and the other person is dazzled, but does not respond in kind. Desirers can find themselves repeatedly mired the kinds of situations they were hoping to avoid. Subconsciously, the desirer may seek out people who spark old pain in the hope to succeed once and for all and defeat the pain.

Because a past hurt is fueling desirers, they can have sharp trigger points. They have a tendency to think in a polarized way. You're either with them or against them. Once relegated to the enemy camp in a desirer's mind, it's very hard for the offending person to redeem him or herself and be viewed as safe.

Take Home Lesson

Once aware of the unfulfilled need they are trying to fill, desirers should strive to feel more happy with themselves alone. People, in general, are not good candidates for delivering this sort of deep healing to a desirer. People have their own failings and needs. If desirers become more self-actualized in their happiness, the volatile intensity with which they interact with other people will ease. Trigger points may be softened and become less black and white. They may be less apt to push others away when hypersensitivity is sparked.

THE SAFETIES

If you answered "b" to the first question and predominantly answered "b" to the remaining questions, and if you felt a strong affinity with the "b" statements, then you are most likely a safety. Safeties perceive that they received some varying degree of an ideal childhood. They felt very loved, supported, and appreciated by their parents. They felt valued as a person and their well being was a high priority. As safeties move to adulthood, they carry this expectation of security and warmth into their visions of love and mating, because to them, being held in that high regard by their loved ones is viewed as normal.

However, there is negative side to this construct. Children are by definition in a receiving/expecting role. Parents are morally charged with putting their children first and shepherding them through the stages of physical and cognitive development. This extensive support is given at the expense of the parents. Men and women who deliver such childhood experiences often derive personal pleasure and achievement from putting their children first. They do not show obvious signs of tension between their personal wants and parental roles, even though they might feel them. They embrace the necessary sacrifice. In fact, in some instances, they might even resent the adulthood of the child, and subconsciously wish that their children never leave them or stop needing them. It is unlikely that these kinds of parental sacrifices will be made by others in the safeties' adult life. Therefore, an unrealistic expectation may be seeded in safeties that they will continue to receive such selfless giving. Safeties might not even be aware that what they were receiving as children was a selfless act by the parents. It simply seems normal.

Problems can arise when safeties feel that their expected security is threatened or being denied them. A sense of entitlement and inflexibility can emerge as safeties are confused by the notion that other people may have needs or wishes inconsistent with their understanding of security. Safeties may be very focused on relationship happiness and be fierce champions of relationship and team success, but what they sometimes struggle to realize is that their strong positions, albeit couched in moral terms, are actually self-serving. Safeties are 50% of a relationship, so any effort directed at the relationship as a living, breathing entity is 50% to their direct benefit.

Safeties tend to have difficulty seeing their lover as a separate individual who is entitled to be happy, even if that happiness means setting them free of the relationship. When threatened, safeties cling to the relationship harder, which is where their solace lies. However, that act is past-oriented. Beliefs like "we were meant to be together" and "we vowed to love and protect each other forever" are attempts to minimize current or future problems with static, unchanging events in the past. Because they have learned that loving attachments are secure, they expect that once a couple enters a relationship, the relationship will always be. Safeties can struggle with making aggressive changes to improve the present and the future. Change can be highly threatening, because it breaks a safety's sense of predictability and the absolute power of the past to keep shaping the present.

Pros of Safeties

Safeties are dependable and protective of relationships. Unless threatened, they deliver long term stability. As long as they have warmth and comfort, they can be happy. This threshold is higher and more volatile for desirers. Safeties are optimistic and believe in the good of people.

Cons of Safeties

Safeties can become stubborn and inflexible if their world view is threatened or frustrated. They tend not to see the self-serving nature their relationship-center focus. Security can be seen as a right rather a privilege earned with hard work and honest sensitivity to the individual needs of their partner.

Take Home Lesson

Safeties might remind themselves of their role in the lives of others, separate and apart from their own security. Safe and stable relationships may be an honorable goal, but safeties should be mindful that in times of stress, that goal can turn into an urge to compel others to give security no matter what the cost or sacrifice to themselves. Although the expecting/receiving role is granted to children, it is a difficult foundation for an adult relationship. Granting understanding and support sometimes requires openness to change and letting go of relationship predictability. They need to be conscious of the need for ongoing dynamic energy in a relationship rather than counting on an expected secure attachment based on past vows/declarations of love. It is easy for safeties to take their partner for granted.

THE QUESTIONNAIRE

So how did the questions do in sorting out the groups? Here are correlations--the number of times a person selecting a desiring childhood answered "a" and a person selecting a safety childhood answered "b."

Question 2: "a" 70%; "b" 57%

Question 3: This question didn't work out and needs to be tossed.

Question 4: "a" 18%; "b" 50%

Question 5: "a" 75%; "b" 33%

Question 6: "a" 63%; "b" 80%

Question 7: "a" 29%; "b" 75%

Question 8: "a" 86%; "b" 17%

Attachments Continued

Everyone is doing a spectacular job delving into these questions! Thank you!! I hope you're finding this self-reflection fun and illuminating.

As we dig, please keep in mind that one answer is not better (or more healthy) than another. We are not looking for things wrong with us. Each of the two groupings of answers has its own positives, and its own negatives. They are simply different constructs of attachment (and I'm sure there are more than these two).

I wasn't satisfied with a couple elements of my questions, but that's my fault, not yours. I'd like to drill down a bit farther with four more questions. If you've participated in questions 1 - 4, please answer this series also. If you're just joining us, please answer both sets of questions--the ones posted Monday and the ones posted today (Wednesday). Friday is the big discussion!!


Which of the two statements in each question do you agree with more?

Question 5
a. I hate emotional upheaval, regardless of whether I believe I'm right or wrong.

b. I hate when things in my life aren't the way I was expecting them to be.


Question 6
a. If something has gone wrong, then I should have done better. It's most likely up to me to fix it.

b. If something has gone wrong, then we can work it out, as long as we do it together.


Question 7
a. "You don't understand!" (Angry and frustrated.)

b. "I'm trying to understand." (Concerned and worried.)


Question 8
a. I hope to find it (or achieve it) someday.

b. If only people would see how good the world is, they would be happy.

I've Been Wondering About Attachments

I'm often drawn to ponder human psychology--what twists us, what compels us, and what makes us desire. Are you game for answering a few questions about attachments and how you see them? I'm hatching a little theory over here. If I get a fair number of responses, I'll lay it out for you either in my Wednesday post or Friday post. Thanks!


In each question, which statement do you agree with more?

Question 1
a. I felt a tension with my parents, even if I didn't show it. I was mostly eager to leave home to meet new people to bring into my life.

b. My parents made my childhood wonderful. I felt energized when I spent time with them. An important part of me was sad to leave home.


Question 2
a. In life, it is normal for people to fail you and leave you. As you seek people to bring into your life, you look for people who will be different and prove that they will stand with you.

b. In life, it is normal for people to honor stability and love. As you seek people to bring into your life, you look to avoid people who are selfish, unsafe, and cannot not be trusted.


Question 3
a. If you want people to be with you, you have to attract them and keep attracting them.

b. If you want people to be with you, you have to find people who connect with you, then believe in that connection.


Question 4
a. A relationship is going badly if you don't feel special, desired for who you are, or understood. Thinking about trying to be with a different person comforts you.

b. A relationship is going badly if your connection is not being honored and you feel like the person may leave you. Thinking about trying to be with a different person unsettles you.

Infinity Sucks

In the long hours of a recent car ride, I heard Beyoncé singing about love taking her "to infinity...and beyond." (Okay, so I like her new song Halo.) After mentally laughing for a moment at the allusion to Buzz Lightyear, I began to think about infinity (and beyond). I poured myself into imagining what it would be like to have infinity to play with. Looking over the vast distances, I came to a gut-twisting realization. Infinity sucks.

Sure, at first infinity sounds brilliant. Eternal life. Never-ending learning. Just think of the amazing knowledge you could amass. All of the experiences and understanding. All of the, well, everything!!! It's frigging infinity after all, right??

(Your mouth is watering for infinity. I know it.)

So there you are, sitting on your mountain of accomplishments. More than any human ever thought possible. You did it. You ROCK with the ultimate rock-osity. (Spark those lighters.)

Hold up.

Waaaaaait a minute. You got a ton more infinity left. Get off that pile of accomplishments! Get crackin'!

Infinity. Wouldn't there come a point, a final boundary, when you couldn't possibly add one more piece of information into your brain without dropping something out the back? We're only born with so much grey matter/computing power in the noggin'. Sooner or later, we would lose track of our beginning, our foundations. And when that happens, how long would it be before we forget the direction we were going? Like when you show up at the market to buy something and suddenly forget why you went.

Now imagine yourself lost like that. No sense of where you came from. No sense of your path or purpose. Too much time and experience has piled up to keep it straight.

See that over there? A whole lot of infinity left.

Always more.

Always more.

And Beyoncé wants even more??

No, I'll take my neat, finite existence and trust that in some small way, I left a small gift for others to carry...beyond.

She Moved Through the Fair

Sometimes I think about the times when the world still knew darkness. Before electricity and 24-hour light. Before canned human company was no farther than the click of a television or radio. Generations linked hands across the night with stories, memories, art, and songs passed by the flickering spell of a fire. Folk songs feel like voices from that darkness, like some mysterious communication of lyric and tune speaking the heart of a culture, speaking the soul of humanity itself.

Sometimes I listen to these old, traditional songs and try to wrap myself in that collective voice. I try to understand the greater words and what deep human chords made it endure the grinding passage of years.

Fall back into the darkness as you listen to She Moves Through the Fair. What is captured here? What is transcending so many eras, homelands, and human conditions? I hear the stoic sadness in the musical key.* I hear the inherent distance in love. And I hear the beautiful longing to bridge the spaces separating us, and to finally have what can never be quite possessed.

What does the voice sing to you?

My love said to me
My mother won't mind
And my father won't slight you
For your lack of kind
Then she stepped away from me
And this she did say
"It will not be long love,
'Til our wedding day."

She stepped away from me
And she moved through the fair
And fondly I watched her
Move here and move there
She went away homeward
With one star awake
As the swan in the evening
Moves over the lake

I dreamt it last night
That my true love came in
So softly she entered
Her feet made no din
She came close beside me
And this she did say
"It will not be long love,
'Til our wedding day."

(For a particularly haunting version of the song by Sinead O'Connor, click HERE.)

*The Mixolydian Mode. Compared to the major scale, its seventh note is diminished by a half tone. It's the scale of the bagpipes and other old ear-tuned instruments. The lowered seventh makes the low grace notes sound more pleasing. For example, you can hear it in "mother" in the line "my mother won't mind."

The Other

I've been thinking about the nature of humans a lot lately. Trying to whittle our basic, universal drives down to very tight biological and objective terms. Today, I'd like to talk about a concept I'm going to call "The Other." What makes us seek out a companion? A soulmate? What makes us form a personal, transcendent relationship with a God? Those are questions I'm going to tackle.

When you look at human development and what makes us thrive as a species, you find a strong communal nature. We're bound to our human surroundings. Our parents, our family, our neighborhood, our community. From these sources, we form our identity, we learn, we form a defined "culture." Insert a bit of geography, and you see these processes at work with stark contrasts. Alter that close association with different histories, different language, different dress, and different appearance, and we see the "us" come full circle by distinguishing itself from "them."

But is there something deeper than culture? Is there some more basic urge that lays the very foundations that culture is built upon? I think there is. It is an inborn itch so deep that nothing can ultimately smooth it away. Think about yourself alone. Think about yourself very alone. In your darkest moments of isolation, is there someone there with you?

It's an urge, isn't it? A hunger to have another hear you, support you, validate you, and share your life experiences. We understand "me" or "I" all too well. That other emptiness yearning to be filled is "The Other."

Think about relationships. Biologically, we need to reproduce. Most of us like the act required for procreation. In fact, we practice it often. But what does reproduction have to do with a life companion? Why do we want those deeper, almost mystical connections? Why reach out to a person? Why care? Why fight? Why keep coming back when the waters become foul? Because we have that mouth to feed within us. We want to reach out and grab someone to fill the shoes of the The Other. Unfortunately, the stakes are devastatingly high. People fail us. They violate us. They let us down. The Other spits out the usurper we've dropped into that emptiness, and the hunger begins again.

But here's a question. What might you do if there is no person willing (or desirable enough) to be The Other? What if you've been burned and the hunger wants something more predictable and safe? No problem. You can fill the space with a concept. A kind of imaginary Other who will care and share and lend a willing ear. This "Substitute Other" can be a fantasy. A wonderful imagined romance. (We writers are known to create such things.) The Substitute Other can be an ideal. It can be a spirit or a god. Substitute Others can give great comfort. Sometimes I envy the religious minded for that reason. How comforting must that be to always feel someone watching over you, offering you love and support? But in reality, that kind of safety tastes kind of bland, and most people still end up wanting more.

So, what is The Other within us? Maybe nothing more than an instinct. Just like babies are born to snuggle towards warmth, or move their mouths to a nipple. We are born with that simple, but potent yearning. I can see its strength. It binds us together and allows us to achieve more than we would alone. But I also see its dreadful side. The wanting, the not having, the conflicts, the betrayals, and the pain.

If you're in the grip of the dark side of The Other, maybe seeing its deep instinctual roots can help. If we're hungry and can't find food, it doesn't mean that we have been cheated out of all that is good and noble in life. We tighten our belts and get a snack later. If our Other has been stomped or starved and we are in pain, maybe it's not quite the big deal we think it is. It's programming and biology. Understanding urges doesn't make them go away, but it puts them in perspective. It puts more power and strength into our hands. Maybe once in a while we should look The Other in the face and say, "screw you." Maybe then we'd have the perspective to feel a little less insane.

(One final note. By "The Other," I'm referring to the drive, not what fills it. The Other doesn't have to be a single person or thing. In fact, I presume it never is. We pluck pieces of people and concepts to feed the hunger. I do believe, however, that in most cases we want a single person to fill the largest share of it, even if we trick ourselves into thinking that person will be everything to us. There are many ways, small and large, we want to be heard. I don't see many examples of a truly solitary life.)

Children of Mental Illness

Were you raised in the company of mental illness? Perhaps a parent or a sibling? Maybe it was depression, obsessive-compulsive disorder, or schizophrenia. Maybe it was an undiagnosed condition that caused a person to act differently than the norm. We understand about the person afflicted. I'd like to introduce you to the quiet victims.

Most people are kind-hearted and try to give people the benefit of the doubt. They want to help people in need, and give deference to people who are sick. However, the altruism has its limit. Most people are happy to help so long as they are not far detoured from the course of their day. For example, you may brighten the day of a person with depression. But would you be so enthusiastic about that interaction on the 94th consecutive day (morning, noon, and night)?

Enter the child.

See them cringe at their parent's behavior. See them darken and withdraw as others become flustered. Or, they may speak out, beg for someone else to see. Don't you see that this is not normal? Can't you admit that something is wrong? But others often react to negativity with negativity. They want to deliver a boost, then walk away. But children can't walk away. Their love becomes mixed with discomfort and confusion. They want to help, but they are worn down and tired. Their frustration is met with criticism.

Doesn't the child still love the parent? Why can't they be more understanding? Why can't they be more accepting that the parent can't help what they do? Why can't they be more supportive?

Being a child of mental illness is a no win situation. It takes pieces of your parent away, and you have no experience to know they're missing. The child might be forced to switch places with the parent. The parent's behaviors might be annoying, draining, or embarrassing. Anyone would become confused, uncomfortable, and angry. But what happens when the child speaks out? I know a person who would become upset at her brother's obsessive-compulsive behaviors. Her parents acted like she was the problem for not being more understanding. She was the more mature one, after all. They made excuses for her brother and went so far as to suggest that the real problem was her. My father, on the other hand, had nascent neurological problems and severe depression. When I was left alone with him for a couple of days, he suffered an emotional breakdown after refusing psychiatric care for weeks. I was later criticized for not being more "supportive" when I admitted him into an inpatient hospital for treatment. No one particularly cared about what a 17 year old might be feeling when he is forced to commit his father to psychiatric treatment. I wasn't the sick one, after all. I wasn't the one who needed help.

But we are the silent victims. We are the ones made to feel like bad people for our emotions, because they can't help it. But who can give so much of themselves? Who can one day deal with a father crying hysterically because he can't fix a toilet, and the next be berated because the father feels insulted by a perceived lack of respect?

It's a very confusing role with precious few allies.

I urge you that if you ever come across a family struggling with mental illness, give a special look to the family around the afflicted person. Consider how they might be suffering. Fight the human urge to jump to the emotional rescue of the afflicted person and criticize family who seem angry or uncomfortable or withdrawn. Yes, you can't blame the afflicted person for his or her condition, but it doesn't make the harm caused by it any less potent.

Offer them some understanding. Don't make them feel worse.

Cemetery Reflections: Desire vs. Passionate Love

                          Cemetery Reflections:
                                     ~~Time is a limited currency. Spend it well.

Today's Thought: What is the difference between desire and passionate love?

Perhaps, passionate love for another exists when we grant that person the ability to wound us. Vulnerability to wound means that another person matters. Receiving his or her approval unleashes a rush of happiness, and rejection burns with pain.

Wounds can only happen when we need. When we dare to lay that power in another's hands. Desire, however, is one-sided. We want, but we don't need. A desire denied can disappoint, or even sting. But no wound is sliced in. We just move on to the next desire. There is no need to linger.

What is the lesson? Don't be afraid to expose yourself to wounds. And if you're with someone who cannot harm you, perhaps some vital connection has been lost. Retrace your steps and find where the emotions went astray.

Love requires other people to really matter.

Mom and Dad, Part 2

Now that you've shared the greatest achievements and greatest failures of your parents in raising you (and you've let your answers percolate in your mind), I have a follow-up question for you.

If you are married or in a long term relationship, what is the greatest part of your relationship? What is the worst part, i.e., the thing that causes the most disappointment or strife?

Now, can you find any similarities to your answers regarding your parents? Are there common themes?

We often depart childhood with unfinished business, and that business will be taken up with our future partners. Why do we tend to choose to be with people who remind us of our parents on some deep, subconscious level? First, because they seem comfortable and familiar. But more importantly, they offer us another shot at taking care of that unfinished business from childhood. As an extreme example, suppose that you grew up with abusive parents. You may drift toward abusive partners in the hope that you can finally take whatever action is necessary to make them love you and stop hurting you. Just as you always wished for your parents to love you and not hurt you as a child.

How about you? As you've thought these questions through, are you chasing after unfinished business? If you are, it may very well be poisoning your happiness. These cycles often bury themselves beneath our ability to see them. How do you find them? Their footprints will be on those areas where you've tended to feel threatened, unsatisfied, or unhappy in your relationships.

If your relationships follow cycles, you may very well be carrying unfinished business.

Mom and Dad

I'm curious about something. Are you game?

I have two questions for you.

#1: What would you say was your parents' greatest achievement in raising you?

#2: What would you say was your parents' greatest failure in raising you?

Part two of this post will be up Friday after you've had time to ruminate on your answers here. (Feel free to answer anonymously if you'd prefer.)

What Do These Things Have in Common?

1. The Taliban imposing strict Islamic law, then Taliban leaders privately indulging in many of the same activities Islamic law forbids and/or enjoying shockingly superior living conditions.

2. A U.S. legislator creating laws while taking bribes and misusing taxpayer dollars for personal gain.

3. A business owner asking employees to put the good of the company first, then surfing pornography for hours on the internet in violation of his own policy and internet controls.

4. A parent becoming increasingly annoyed by a child who doesn't turn out how the parent wished, then criticizing or withholding approval of the child.


Do you see a connection? Although widely differing in degree, there is a single human trait rearing its ugly head in these examples. A universal desire having roots in every one of us.

Control.

People love the power to control. And once they have it, they wield it to force the world around them to suit or benefit themselves.

And the more power of control a person has, the greater the danger he or she will use it to satisfy the person's every little whim.

How do we control others? We can do it with raw force--physical or mental intimidation. But raw force requires one-on-one contact, so it's not terribly efficient. Even if you're a dictator, your soldiers need to have face-to-face contact with the controlled population to be effective.

But raw force is easy to spot. I'm more concerned about the delicate tools of control. Control that is clothed in false morality. Cultural mores fit into this category. Whenever a culture imposes rules and expectations which limit one group's freedom, there will always be another side to the equation. There will always be those who benefit from someone else's loss.

Take, for example, cultures where women are treated as inferiors. What do men gain? Control over where women go or not go. Who they can interact with. How they can dress. The power is capped by taking away the means for women to break away. Forbid the ownership of property. Forbid education. The bottom line--men enjoy the knowledge that their whims will be satisfied without the limiting and frustrating work of respecting another's autonomy.

Organized religion can be another delicate tool of control. Even things that on their face look innocuous can have questionable motives, like dietary restrictions. Can't eat meat on Friday? Can't eat pork? Why? Perhaps one group is asserting influence over another group's most basic life functions. Even when you eat, you are reminded of the message and created influence of the clergy. If you step back and look objectively, can you find things taken with this power? In the history of the world, religions have demanded attention, time, labor, money, bloodshed, and special treatment for its clergy. How many times has one group destroyed another under the guise of religious righteousness?

Maybe on some level, humans as a species want to be controlled. It provides comfort. It provides order. But maybe there are better, more lofty goals than comfort and order. Don't be fooled into sacrificing yourself for another's gain. Look for control and those who attempt to wield it. Although it can be a tantalizing prospect, one person never has the right to thrive at the expense of another. Fight it when you see it. Stand up and say no!

Don't let yourself get hosed.

Delicious Pain, Part 2

(Catch Part 1, HERE.)

What doesn't kill us, makes us stronger.

There is the kind of pain that hits us from the outside. An illness. A setback. An unexpected failure. Yes, you bleed, but also learn what it takes to heal. The next time you'll be more prepared, maybe you'll navigate around the pain altogether.

But that's not the kind of pain I'm talking about.

I'm talking about the kind of pain you carry deep. The kind of pain that infuses and becomes part of you. The kind of pain you might not even recognize as pain, because you feel its mirror most keenly, the fierce, sweet desire to soothe it.

So, what do you do when you realize such a pain is haunting you, and you decide that you no longer want to be driven by it? To be repeating the cycle of discontent and satisfaction?

Is it enough to see the pain for what it is? Can you cure it by just stopping?

I don't think so. I don't think that's realistic. When you experience a high, sooner or later, you'll be drawn to repeat it.

So what to do.

I believe that the only "solution" is to replace the high with other highs. More healthy ones. I use the term solution loosely, because I'm not entirely sure that it ever goes away, except perhaps with a long passage of time.

Someone can't decide what highs to choose. That's sure to fail. You can't just get religion, or take up knitting, or whatever half-assed suggestion might be thrown your way. You know what highs are close seconds to your delicious pain. Those are the ones you need to concentrate on (assuming they're healthy), at the same time you need to keep reminding yourself of the harms your delicious pain causes when you feel drawn to it.

For example, since my delicious pain ultimately pushes me to rely on other people's draw to me to soothe it, my replacement highs need to be more self-driven. Rather than chase the wonderful feeling when someone is drawn to me, I need to focus on when I feel wonderful highs experiencing something alone--a reflective moment in the forest, finishing a fine piece of writing, playing music. By reducing focus on others, I can then enjoy more healthy relationships with people.

The truth is that both highs come from within. Other people don't really do anything for me. It's me allowing myself to rely on them to drive my happiness that's the problem. When I feel the pull of delicious pain, I try to imagine it for what it is, beautiful on the surface, but easy to see the rot underneath when I turn it over. The joy is barely skin deep.

Insight: Delicious Pain

What are you addicted to?

I'm not talking about the easy ones to see, the cure-all highs. Like drinking, drugs, or even shopping.

What are you quietly addicted to? One of these?

• Relationships/love.
  
  Perhaps you feel insecure or unworthy. Or perhaps you were abused or neglected. Someone loving you, wanting you, needing you, soothes the pain.
  



• Companionship/not being alone.
  
  Perhaps you were isolated or ostracized. Companionship soothes the pain.
  



• Solitude.
  
  Perhaps you were smothered or denied the chance to grow on your own. Fierce independence and solitude soothes the pain.
  

Sounds fine, right? A minus added to a plus equals healthy and happy.

No, unfortunately it doesn't. Because once you're soothed for a while, something curious happens. You start unconsciously damaging what you've achieved in order to feel the delicious pain again.

Why?

Because that's how we get the even more delicious feeling of being soothed.

Without the pain, we won't feel the spectacular high again. That's why addictions are so hard to heal. We don't really want to heal the pain that leads to the addiction. We're drawn back again and again, despite the harms and the dreadful cycle.

So what happens to our addicts?

• The love addict hammers the relationship with insecurity or finds ways to feel neglected. (Or even enters relationships with abusive people.) The relationship sours. Our addict is primed for the next high. (Which doesn't necessary mean leaving. Souring a relationship in order to reconnect and reconcile can be just as powerful.)



• Our companionship addict becomes jealous or overbearing. Friendships become unpleasant or erode. He/she moves on. Our addict is primed for the next high.



• Our solitude/isolation addict? He/she dances closer to people, even needy ones, building the uncomfortable attachments just to feel justified in pushing them away.

Think about the most precious unfilled wish in your life. The one that endures years upon years.

That is where to look for your pain.

You may cling to it. You may even jealously guard it.

Maybe it's good thing, I don't know. Maybe it's powerful motivation to push us to greater things.

But also consider the damage it does.

Are you better for it?

Or is it the walls of a prison you've lost the ability to see?

I Saw a Blood Tree on an Autumn Day

Blood
Is less than blood
Until you bleed

Joy
Is less than joy
Until you need

Fear, Pain, and Wisdom

The Reading Terminal Market is a charming farmers market and lunch joint in the heart of Philadelphia. An entire section of the Market is run by Amish for half of the week. In a way, I feel like I'm visiting Lancaster again when I eat at one of the Amish lunch places.

Up above the cash register, they have this sign:

The fear of the Lord is the first step on the path to wisdom.
~Proverbs 9:10.

It really struck me.

Fear leads to wisdom?

Interesting concept. It got me thinking about how many ways fear is an organizing principle for humans. An engine for behavior control. Here are some examples:

• Children's fear of parents and teachers.


• The fear of being ostracized/being different.


• Fear of government/rules/punishment.

These societal fears have something in common. First, each one is a conscious decision to use fear as a pressure to change actions. It is purposeful fear.

Second, humanity expressly or implicitly consents to be afraid. Take the fear of God, for instance. For the Amish, the fear of God's punishment dissuades them from doing or not doing certain things. The Amish then consent to this fear by believing that it's for their own good. They encourage each other to be afraid.

For the sake of clarity, we should distinguish societal fear from personal fear. Personal fear is born from individual pain. Once a person experiences pain, he or she wants to avoid its sting again. For example, the fear of intimacy is created by ripping away safe and healthy relationships, often by substituting harmful ones. Positive relationships are desired, but as soon as one comes along, the fear of losing it ignites. Emotions conflict. The person says, come closer, get away from me. The line between the desire and fear is razor thin and unstable. Personal fear can become poison.

Societal fear is different. It's not merely a reaction. It's a choice.

So what do you think? How pervasive is fear as a societal force? Does fear serve an essential purpose, or is it shortsighted? Or how about the deeper question? Is societal fear really personal fear in disguise? Does it all boil down to the fear of pain?

If so, maybe avoiding pain is the path to wisdom.

Interesting.

But first, we should make sure the pain is real. And right.

I'm With You

When you were young, did you imagine your future mate? Did you feel a strange connection to this person, almost like he or she could see what you were seeing? Hear what you were thinking?

I did. And maybe you did too.

Perhaps, it's a part of youth. Perhaps, as our psyche emerges, the missing pieces and traumas reach out to be healed. We wish for a person to save us.

Once in a while, I come across a song where I hear this longing. Most often the pure expressions are from songwriters who are young. Here are two that come to mind:

'Cause you're everywhere to me
And when I close my eyes it's you I see
You're everything I know
That makes me believe
I'm not alone
(Michelle Branch, Everywhere)

Isn't anyone tryin to find me?
Won't somebody come take me home
It's a damn cold night
Trying to figure out this life
Wont you take me by the hand
take me somewhere new
I dont know who you are
but I... I'm with you
(Avril Lavigne, I'm With You)

If you were one of those who delved into these dreams, how have they fared as you've aged and experienced life? Do any parts of them endure? Have they brought you happiness, or pain?