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ZT |
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Friday, March 26, 2004 at 7:06 PM I read Cracked a while back. I transcribed some quotes that I thought were pretty hip. Some of them will be hard to understand with out knowing the context, but as we all know Loveline listeners are geniuses. Here you go. Thats a good way to spot a borderline: They defend against their own miserable feelings by projecting them onto other people. Trouble is, I'm a perfect receptacle. I don't need her feelings on top of my own. None of us do. Borderlines challange boundaries, but they actually feel safer when they're held. Precisely like children. If I get angry it's at the bigger picture. In general, our culture offers us solutions that inly intensify our problems. I'm prone to rant about this, I know -- but after all, surgeons are permitted to rage against cigarettes and fatty foods, psychologists about poor communication skills. So why shouldn't I go off on the culture? I think Truman Capote once said something like, Beauty makes its own rules. I might add from experience that beauty also suffers it's own tragedies. The Kid Stays in the Picture, Robert Evans Traumas likea that leave imprints on parts of the brain that don't have a sense of time. The memory gives the sense that the trauma is always happening. As a result, I grew up with a feeling that there's a catastrophe waiting around every corner. I can't remember a time when I have not felt anxious. My response has been to try to control everything and everyone. I am a perfectionist. I rescue people. I have to make sure no one else gets carted away. On my first night at County General, I treated a guy with a penis the size of a football. Then she leaned forward, in a manner than made me uncomfortable and blurted out, "Ineed to have you -- right now." Almost reflexively I shot back, "That is just not possible." And strangely, I felt a flood of guilt and confusion. "You see," she said. "I know that about you. That's what makes you so great. That's what makes me want you." I just sat there shaking my head, feeling incredibly uncomfortable, not knowning what else to do but apologize. At that point in my career it was difficult for me to set limits. I felt guilty and apologetic for exposing her to chame. I was uncomfortable not being able to comply with someone else's needs, even when they were completely out of line. And yet, of course, I could do nothing to answer them.
A few pleasantries followed. She tried to joke away the discomfort. She was clearly somewhat ashamed, but like most addicts, she wouldn't stay with that feeling long. She slipped out as quickly as she blew in.
In retrospect, I didn't think it all the way through. I followed my own human reaction, rather than recognizing an addict's behavior for what it is.
Two months later, still in the throws of her bad behavior, she approached me in the parking lot and showed me a picture of her naked ass with welts all over it.
You should check this out," she said. "A riding crop. That will really pin your pupils."
Such behavior was so far out of character for the Betty I knew -- the consummate professional she had been for years. Today, such conduct would never get past me. I know too much about this disease and it's cunning ways. At that point, though, I was still mystified. I tried talking to her, but she wouldn't open the door to any honest communication. Within six months, she left and found a job at a different facility, where she got involved with a man early in his recovery. (Another common pattern: people with long-term sobriety who replapse usually do so after a bad relationship choice.) A few months after she took her new job, I got a call from her father. Betty was dead; according to him, she had shot herself in the chest with her boyfriend's gun.
I must admit that I've never quite been able to accept that story; the Betty I knew was never suicidal, never self-destructive. Even today, it seems more likely to me that someone turned a gun on her. The boyfriend also ended up in the hospital with a self-inflicted gunshot wounds. What are we supposed to believe -- that it was a double suicide? Whether it was a case of foul play or not, however, this much is true: Ultimately the disease was the true cause of death. "A healthy person, whether he realizes it or not, populates his emotional world with soothing or reassuring images that can be called upon in times of distress, need, or aloneness. But the individual who has suffered trauma during his formative years retreats from the world as a result of that abuse." I pause. "Look around the room. Think of people in treatment with you and those in your AA groups. What do you all have in common?" ... "You want to know the common denominator among my patients?" I say, turning serious. "They all had traumatic experiences in early life that caused them to feel helpless, powerless, and in grave danger." I see some people nodding. "This feeling of helplessness creates an inability to process feelings and an aversion to exploring other minds. There's not trust. If you can't trust, you can't connect with anyone. Without the capacity to activate the part of the brain that allows for connection and exploration of other people, an individual oses the main mechanism for discovering who we are and the ability to regulate emotions. ... To me, mental health isn't always about feeling good. Nor is it always about avoiding depression. Nor is it about being happy. As Idefine it, mental health is about accepting reality on reality's terms. And I think you're doing just that. She looks away. "Whatever." I know the sound of such indifference. It's the same helplessness I've seen in so many other patients, Amber included. If a girl like Carol pushes her boyfriend away first, then she feels like she's taking some measure of control, staving off the intolerable feelings of helplessness. A real connection with someone could expose her to the trauma of abandonment she first experienced with her father, and she can't handle that uncertainty. Of course it's unreal to think I should be able to save everyone or that everyone should listen to me or both. How dare I insist all my patients cooperate with my need to rescue? But thats exactly what did. —ZT |
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Masteel |
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Saturday, March 27, 2004 at 6:46 AM Fantastic ZT. I've been putting off getting this for a while, but after reading those excerpts, I'm going to get it this weekend. —Masteel |
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Dark Laith |
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Friday, March 24, 2006 at 10:39 AM I already did! And that was after I'd already read it for the first time. Damn, now I need to reread Cracked. —Dark Laith |
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anobody |
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Friday, March 24, 2006 at 7:12 PM
Edited Friday, March 24, 2006 at 7:25 PM I'm jealous of you Small-Dorked Fish and I Say Good Day - mine isn't signed :-( It is very cool that yours are, though :-) —anobody |
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ZT-In-Exile |
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Monday, March 27, 2006 at 6:25 PM You think if I go on Loveline I could get drew to give my penis and wart exam and sign it if it's clean? —ZT-In-Exile |
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anobody |
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Monday, March 27, 2006 at 6:37 PM You think if I go on Loveline I could get drew to give my penis and wart exam and sign it if it's clean? If small dorked fish could get him to sign his, then it's probably not out of the question. —anobody |
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plurry |
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Sunday, February 10, 2008 at 2:03 PM i may reread it now that i have the visual image of the treatment facility. i now have dreams of being a bad little addict, and having shelly scold and tell me what to do. so hot right now. —plurry |
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ZT Spice |
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Thursday, March 6, 2008 at 4:59 PM I'm bumping this thread again because I mentioned it to an ex-girlfriend today, and to remind myself to write a review. —ZT Spice |
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