I have re-realized again, that there are times that we have the emotional resources to face and deal with "our own problems" and yet there are times that we are to close (to those self same problems) to have an objective perspective on them. A friend, a confidant, a therapist even, will have perspective, but it is a case of GIGO (Garbage In Garbage Out) their view of you is usually colored with the palate with which you yourself have chosen to paint it. Yes, there are those that can just see through your bullshit, or at least take a pretty good guess, to see beyond the walls, the facade, or remnants thereof, even in supposed confidential comfort of a theraputic relationship.
What the F am I talking about here? Well, we still want to paint a picture of ourselves to another _______ (somebody) where we still star in our own story. We may openly volunteer the crap that we do or have done, and yet we still edit, filter, or choose a limited palate of specific colors. We may even ask ourselves, "So, what do they want to hear?" or "How can I tell this without coming out looking like a complete ass?" We are selective, it is our nature. Our memories, our taste (food, clothes, politics, etc.) is a product of so many small choices it is hard to even imagine how we have made it through our entire lives without losing our minds. I am sure that this sort of survival has something to do with the way the brain functions, to protect us, as best it can, from the traumas we have faced. Sometimes this is so much the case that we break.
I actually had a thought that I wanted to share originally, and I wasn't quite sure how to get to it, to illustrate it...
It is. . .
The shit that we believe, if put into communication, words, images, and we assume would be hurtful, to ourself or others, if left unfiltered, will do what?
- by some notion it could set us free.
- it could have the opposite effect and incarcerate us...
- perhaps the deep and dark is to much to handle, "digest", or "process"
- and maybe a little more truth, a little at a time, might hurt at first, but could change the giver and receiver.
The problem then becomes, how much is right/enough/appropriate; If we were to expose it naked, raw and unedited, would those that receive this information about us ever be prepared to accept, understand, live with what comes out. How can we decide?
Who could truly handle this? What does it say about a person that "doesn't want to hear it..." and live happily in ignorance of ________ (whatever it might be).
Aside: We want to be liked, loved, listened to, and the consequence of making a decision to illustrate anything (good or bad) weighs heavily on us when it involves affecting others' opinion of us.
The effect on a 'loved one' to face complete honesty, and remain untainted by what could be (subjectively) an 'awful truth'.
Perhaps dropping any sort of emotional bombshell should be relegated to a top secret test range, far from the public eye, out of harm's way before detonation.
The thought that follows is: Do we really all need to have another outlet for deep emotional shit, that may be harmful if handled by one's closest to us (who may be dealing with much of their own?) Therapists see other therapists, right? It would be like taking their work home to their spouse and laying it all on them when it is not their choice... It is why Al-Anon or Narc-Anon is separate from the family, loved ones. Finding the right place to face the truth and to still find acceptance (in all our flaws) is. . .
perhaps necessary to keep us sane.
One of the philosophies I've been reading about recently says that one of the things people should always do is speak their truth. This means sometimes difficult things for others to hear, but if the message is given in a compassionate way, that's the best that can be done. For that truth to be accepted is another gift.
ReplyDeleteI feel like connections matter more than almost anything else in the world. It's the thing we have when all else is gone. True friendship (and acceptance) is worth more than all the gold in the world.