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Kamis, 22 Juni 2017

Hatefulness as a Gift of Love Part I



Lorna Smith Benjamin, a well-respected researcher on the relationship between interpersonal psychology and personality disorders, has a saying that “Every Psychopathology is a Gift of love.”  In other words, she believes people develop maladaptive traits because, as she explains on her website:

“… problem patterns…are the result of one or more of three copy processes started in relation to an important early caregiver…Those are (1) Be like him/her (identification); (2) act as if he/she is still around and in charge (recapitulation); ( 3) treat yourself as he/she did (introjection). Sometimes the copying is in negative image (e.g., be the opposite)…The purpose of the copying is to seek reconciliation, approval, love of the internalized representation of that original object (person). People unwittingly act accordingly to the "rules" laid down by these early relationships and even when they believe they hate the original copy person. Every psychopathology is a gift of love.”

If you're looking for a therapist, find one who knows this stuff

[Some trivia for you: Dr. Benjamin started out as a student of Timothy Leary, way back when he was a respected academic interpersonal psychologist and before he went off the deep end as a hippie guru telling everyone to “turn on, tune in, and drop out.” Don't hold it against her].

Ellllllesssssdeee

That people may mistreat themselves because of loyalty to their kin group and a sense of altruism in that context seems to me to be due to a biological imperative (see my post on kin selection), albeit one that we can consciously choose to ignore.

This idea is understandably difficult for most people to wrap their heads around.  Self destructiveness as a sort of altruism?  (I explained some patterns associated with this phenomenon in my posts of 2/6/11 and 2/11/11).  The idea that the biological forces of kin selection may lead individuals to act in hateful and/or frustrating ways to other people for altruistic purposes within the kin group (although certainly not altruistic to outsiders) is even harder to swallow.  But the idea that individuals are willing to sacrifice their own children as a gift of love to the family system is the most difficult of all.

I think that the attraction of the Biblical story of Abraham nearly obeying a command from God to kill his own beloved son, not to mention the story of God being willing to sacrifice his only Son for the good of humanity, stems from the pervasiveness of this phenomenon within our species.  Certainly, the common willingness of parents to send their children off to war illustrates how powerful this human tendency is.  

The military in this country honors the mothers of fallen soldiers as “Gold Star Mothers.”  The government gives them a folded flag and a dead son or daughter, and usually they somehow consider it quite an honor.

That parents somehow still love their children even if they are acting out a hateful, nasty, and/or abusive family role is something my patients often have a great deal of trouble accepting, and understandably so.  In order to explain their parents strange hatefulness, which I also refer to in my post of July 6, 2010 as distancing behavior, they have usually come to the conclusion that their parents are heartless, evil, insane, or stupid. 

If I were in their shoes, I am absolutely certain I would have come to the exact same conclusion. Still, as they tell their stories to me in psychotherapy, I always hear of those rare times when their parents were not hateful but actually loving.  Sometimes such parents even will unexpectedly express their love directly, although often in a way which undermines their own credibility.  However, because of the total context of the relationship, these positive acts and statements are discounted.  Again, discounting such contradictory double messages is perfectly understandable.

Why would you believe the professions of love of anyone who generally tends to treat you like sh*t?  That would really be insane. Why should you believe them when there is so much evidence to the contrary?

And who knows if they are not doing those positive things for you on purpose to set you up once again for disappointment?  Letting you start to hope that they could finally be the parents you always wished you had, only to dash those hopes to pieces.  Like waiting for your estranged father to come and pick you up as he promised, when he has broken such promises time and time again.

Still, what does one make of a mother who, for the first time, admitted to her adult daughter that she had severely verbally abused the daughter when she was very young, but then told her not to bring it up again because she would deny ever having admitted it?  

And therapists tell patients whose parents do this crap that they have “trust issues” as if somehow that indicates that there is something wrong with them.  If such patients did not have trouble trusting people, then there would be something wrong with them.

I have been corresponding with two women whose mothers are described as having many traits that are suggestive of the diagnosis of borderline personality disorder.  While they both really want to believe that beneath all the horrible distancing behavior their mothers really did and do care about them, they of course find that the idea induces a lot of cognitive dissonance.  Again, I do not blame them one bit for thinking that I am just a little bit crazy for thinking so.

In part II of this post, I will describe some of the “maternal” behavior that one of them described to me, as well as translating some of her mother’s behavior and verbalizations into what I think is really being expressed covertly.

Sabtu, 17 Juni 2017

Video games as anxiety treatment



This sounds like very cool research:
It’s too soon to load Tetris onto the equipment that soldiers carry into battle, but there’s an intriguing hint that playing that geometric game might act as what scientists are calling a “cognitive vaccine” against the horrible flashbacks that characterize post-traumatic stress disorder (PTSD), which more and more of those returning home from Iraq and Afghanistan are suffering.

The idea of using Tetris to vaccinate soldiers against PTSD rests on two facts. One, the brain has a finite processing capacity for each of two kinds of information: sensory/visual/spatial and narrative/meaning. Two, there is a window of about 6 hours to disrupt memory consolidation. What this implies, scientists led by Emily Holmes of the University of Oxford write in a new paper in the open-access journal PLoS One, is that a sufficiently demanding visuospatial task will keep the brain from retaining other spatial/visual information--that is, images, including traumatic ones. Tetris should be such a task, since recognizing the shapes and moving the blocks around places demands on the brain’s spatial-processing channel.

I'm imagining there might be ways these findings could be used to fight agoraphobia. By eliminating some of the "spooky mojo" that a panic attack can attach to a specific location or situation, playing Tetris after an attack might make it less likely that you'll panic the next time you're in a similar location or situation.

Play on, panicky gamers! Yours may yet be the last laugh!

Jumat, 02 Juni 2017

As first days of summer go it couldnt really have been better than this


Actually after some thought and consideration, the above statement is a lie and I retract it. The first day of summer last year purely involved me sleeping and eating after Prom. Nevertheless, this year's first day of summer pars it, because, of course, it involved London and celeb stalking. What else? Yes, I thought I was over it too. I've relapsed.

Disclaimer: The following post may seem exaggerative (word? i like it anyway) but in my eyes and memories, IT HAPPENED.

The first TV recording I ever went to was All Star Family Fortunes in 2009. I was only 15. Back in the days where mum refused to let me go to London on my own. The embarrassing part is that 2 years on when I go again, I'm wearing exactly the same outfit. Unintentionally. It's also raining, like last time, and we're given the same coloured wristbands, like last time. Which is annoying, because I've always wanted the blue wristbands and they keep giving me yellow. IT'S NOT TOO MUCH TO ASK.

One difference this time was that I was with 3 friends, instead of my mum. Genna had never been to a TV recording before, Kiera had only been to *shudder* Push The...*gag*...Button, and Ellie...well...you'll see. So each of us were excited for different reasons; me because Russell Kane was on. Every time someone mentioned his name I had to grab the nearest person's shoulder and take a deep breath. Oosh. Before we'd even started queuing I was on a high because he'd tweeted me "Cacking my pants" after I said we were in the audience. SO CUTE. Favourited, natch.
Little did I know that things were going to get a lot amazinger. Firstly, we were FRONT ROW. I'd never been front row before. This was the good stuff. This was where you got picked on. This was where you'd chat with the stars. We weren't MEANT to get front row, though. We only got front row because of...Ellie. You know when people say "OMG if I ever met *insert famous person here* I wouldn't be able to contain myself. I'd freak out! I'd have to be escorted out hahaha!" etc etc, but you know, and they know, they wouldn't. They'd woooooo a bit and 'go a bit funny' but their sanity would remain intact. Even last week when I was metres away from Matt Smith I managed to stay in my seat and keep my fangirling emotions to a suitable level.

This was me on the outside:

This was me on the inside:
So apart from the hugging my legs and rocking, I think I covered it up well. But with Ellie? When she says she can't contain herself....she can't bloody contain herself. I applaud her confidence, I really do, but JESUS CHRIST SHE'S AN EMBARRASSMENT TO BE WITH. She won't mind me saying because she knows it's true, and I told her enough times. However I can't complain because she was the one who stirred up a fuss and lied to get us front row seats. "MARTIN SAID WE GET  FRONT ROW SEATS." "Oh, er, okay, just go round the other side, yeah, fine." She then tweeted Russell Kane telling him exactly where we sitting and how excited we were. I thought nothing of it. He won't be looking at his phone, would he? WELL...

Now I don't know whether it was just coincidence, or whether we were just in his eye line, but I am CONVINCED he knew who we were when his show was recording. The amount of times he looked, smiled, mouthed, COPIED KIERA'S HEART GESTURE (don't ask), and laughed at us made me cry. Literally. No joke. I had to be held I was so emotionally unstable. Even when he got a question wrong, he turned around and looked apologetic AT US. Definitely. Us. Me, even. My eyes. Apology. To me. ONE HUNDRED PERCENT. Have you stopped reading yet? Is this getting too stalkerish? I haven't even begun, love...

The show ended at 10:15pm. It was raining. It was cold. I REALLY needed a wee. But we wanted to try and meet Russell after. Which is fine, right, because people go to the stage door all the time after comedy shows for autographs and photos? We were the only ones waiting. We waited for 45 minutes, and in that 45 minutes we saw the Loose Women gang hilariously drunk getting into taxis, and saw Vernon Kay come out. Ellie went "Hi Vernon!". Completely fine. Nice hello. No screaming. But, er, he actually came over. We sat on the wall and had a conversation with Vernon Kay. In the rain. About ketchup. (We'd already had a conversation about sauces with him during the recording, so he knew who we were. If that makes the show I'll go mental.) He also offered us tickets for the following night, but that didn't happen. Probably because Ellie was tweeting him every 5 seconds. She has no shame. Surprised she didn't get blocked, the mentalist. 

I'd made the call at 10:45pm saying if RK hadn't come out by 11pm then we'd have to go. I wasn't going to miss the last tubes again. I didn't think he was going to, but miraculously, five minutes later, a woman emerged and spoke to a taxi driver. 
"Are you waiting for Russell Kane?" 
"Yeah I am, where is he?" 
"He's waiting round the front, can you drive round?"

Ellie: "ALL SYSTEMS GO. RUN RUN RUN. SPRINT. FAST GENNA FFS. MOVE MOVE MOVE." And there he was. Round the front. Just there. Waiting. I'd like to think for us, but he wasn't. (but I'll tell everyone he was, obv) I froze, but Ellie ran up to him. Gen, bless her, just shuffled towards him with her arms outstretched, and Kiera, not giving a fuck, joined us ages after. She wasn't running for anyone. I love Kiera. After seeing Gen get a hug (and a back rub, may I add), I got one too. I got a hug from Russell Kane. Haha. Then we got a photo. And he told us to come and see him in Southend. Haha. Then we went home, and I didn't even get the 'post-gig blues' the next day, because it was genuinely the most perfect evening. Just lovely, and overwhelming. This has been me ever since:













Only problem is now I love Russell Kane a million times more than I did before. My fangirl levels are peaking again. Oops. X