LLAP

1.
I don't read enough.

I don't know when it went from something fun - the height of luxury was staying in bed all day with a pile of books - to something to be avoided. But that's where I am.

2.
I have to see Therapy Lady tomorrow. I want to confront her about last week, but I go quiet when I get angry. I wish I were one of those people who could express exactly what they're feeling as they're feeling it, instead of having to step back and think it through.

3.
I appreciate the people I live with, and thinking about that - the fact that I didn't know anything about them before the day we all moved in together, I feel very fortunate.

4.
I am envious of Paul Auster's words.

5.
You can't have an emotion without a thought, even if you're not aware of the thought, she says.

But if you're not conscious of a thought, is it actually a thought?

I don't know if that's true.  I feel things all the time without thoughts attached to them. I feel things that contradict my thoughts.

Maybe that's the problem with this scenario. She doesn't understand the separation of thought and feeling.

Also: I don't trust her.

It also became clear in the exercise that I can't differentiate between physical sensation and emotion. Aside from the basics, like anger, I had to keep asking if something was an emotion.

She didn't notice I struggled with that.

This is a waste of my time.

6.
There are days - the good days - when I think, this is all just in my head. I'm imagining the problem, that there is a problem. And all this other stuff - the meds, the appointments - it's just playing into that. I'd be totally fine without it. I'd be better without it.

7.
The crux of my problem with the NHS is they keep asking me what's wrong with me and how to treat it, and it's like, well if I knew that, I wouldn't need you, would I?

That, and that everyone has to go through the system in the same order, regardless of how many times they've done it before, or how useless it is for them.

Like, seeing a counselor 8 times is going to be no help to someone with a long term anxiety disorder. But they send me to them over and over, and then they decide they can't help me but need permission to send me on to someone who might be able to. And if they don't get permission?

So often I just get fed up and discouraged and stop pursuing it. Who does that help?

Where are the diagnosticians?

The more I think about it, the more I realize the only benefit of the NHS system is affordable medication (and even that is beginning to get tight as they keep adding things to the list). There is no care, as such. There is no relationship with my doctors, not trust that they know what's best, or even listen to me. There is no trust that someone with the knowledge and experience is keeping it all on track and making sure I get what I need.

Well, there is, but that's just luck of the draw. The fact is, if my parents didn't have the skills that they do, I would be royally fucked.

And that's a seriously flawed system.

I shouldn't be relying on my mother for therapy, or my dad for medical advice. That's the doctors' job.

8.
I worry that people don't know I'm enjoying myself when I am.

I'm not very expressive.

There's a concrete worry for the Therapy Lady.

But then she'd say, how do you change that?

I don't know. You can't. Not something like that.

You could fake it (sometimes I do, but it's obviously faked expressiveness, and usually at the demand of someone else). But then you have to know when it's expected of you.

And there's the problem.

Maybe I should wear signs and switch them out as appropriate. Happy, sad, sleepy...

9.
Language.
Or the lack thereof.

My thoughts aren't actually thoughts in the way people normally think about them, or at least what I've come to understand about the way people normally think. My thoughts are... experiences. Things come with colours or textures. Feelings. Sometimes a picture. Sometimes all of the above.

It takes time to translate, and sometimes there just isn't any verbal equivalent so it takes... awhile. And I have this thing stirring in my head that I'm completely incapable of communicating to anyone else for weeks, months. They'll pile up until I'm afraid I'll start losing track of them all. And that's where the panic comes in. That I'll be stuck holding all these things in without ever being able to get them out just the way they should be.

It's the only time those breathing exercises actually work, because of the conscious mind is putting all its attention on what the lungs are doing, it's not going to give a shit what the subconscious mind is up to.

10.
Leonard Nimoy gave me a character I could identify with who wasn't a murderer or obnoxious or cruel or just a total ass.

It's strange missing someone you never even met.

The Power in Meaning

I have this thing about words. I'm very specific about them, and what they mean, and very picky about any sort of ambiguity in their usage. Now, I know, we all have slightly different interpretations of what individual words mean, or what they mean to us in our own perceptions.

For example, I use the word "silly" as a term of endearment, as in 'yeah, that was kinda dumb, but I love you so it's okay'. Or if I say I'm feeling anxious that means I'm about two seconds away from finding the nearest corner to camp out in for a couple hours until the twitchiness passes, whereas someone else might say they're feeling anxious to indicate a small amount of nervousness. ("Twitchiness" is another word that I've adopted to mean "panic attack" because I don't like saying 'I'm having a panic attack'.)

Everyone has those things, and as you get to know them, you learn their individual language and adapt to it. Adopt it, in some cases.

Maybe it's because of this that very often we forget the actual meaning behind those words, and the power that meaning has. So we say things indiscriminately without thinking about the wider ramifications that meaning is going to carry with it to the person receiving them. Think about how many disagreements you've been in with someone where it eventually comes out 'I didn't mean it like that.' I'm sure you've said it yourself. I know I have.

But to come back to me (because, well, it's my blog so why not), my thing about words focuses in on those things. I do account for a slight amount of variation in meaning from person to person, but there are also universal meanings that a majority of people have come to accept - X means Y. And when it comes to the more fuzzily defined words - any emotion springs to mind - those universally accepted definitions are vital for accurately (or as accurately as possible) conveying a singular, individual experience to someone else without really having a common ground to stand on.

An example from a conversation a very long time ago:

He said he was very angry.

Recounting the same incident a day or so later:

He said he was very upset.

Hearing those two phrases, I'll stop you and say, well, which is it? Yes, "angry" is a form of "upset", but "upset" isn't always "angry". So it changes the interpretation. And I will completely halt the conversation with an interrogation about what is actually meant by a particular word until it's explained to my satisfaction. I like specifics. They prevent misunderstandings.

So today I'm thinking about words, and what they mean universally, and what they mean individually. It's fine to have your own set of definitions for words. It's also fine to appropriate words or clusters of words to attempt to describe something that doesn't have its own word. At the same time, though, you need to be aware of the universal definition when you're interacting with other people, especially when your definition isn't the same. You can't just spout off something and expect someone to immediately grab the usage that is particular to you. No. More than likely they will automatically fall into what the collective has decided that word or phrase means. So there's a responsibility there, in the language you use and the words you choose. Every single thing you say leaves an impact, and you need to be aware of what that impact will be. It's not enough to hide behind I didn't mean it that way or That's not the definition I use if it's the definition the majority uses. If you want to be understood, sometimes you have to go with convention a little bit. You have to think about the person you're speaking to and how they're going to interpret what you're saying, how that interpretation is going to affect them, and if they're actually going to understand what you're trying to convey. You may prefer your definition over all others, but if you can't get across what you mean, then what purpose does it serve?

I could use a better example, and you've probably gotten the sense I'm talking around something very specific, but I'm not that much of an attention junkie to slice myself open just now, and not quite so vindictive as to call up the flaming torches. I much prefer setting my own fires, anyway.

Along the same lines comes the topic of not saying things for the seemingly noble reason of protecting someone else's feelings. I will tell you right now: that's bullshit. The only reason for not saying something is because you're afraid to, and that has nothing to do with the other person. The more you don't say something, the more you lie, and lying doesn't protect anyone.

The point is: before you open your mouth, think about what you want to say. Think about the best words to say it. And if you know it isn't taken the right way, try again. At the very least, say that.