The splitting of selves

Whether you still are defensive about something you’ve done in the past, or you feel objective enough to acknowledge the wrong of it without self-disgust, depends on how disconnected you are from that version of yourself. It depends on if it’s actually a past version of you. The transitory point is shame, when you no longer defend what you once said/did but are still not comfortable acknowledging it. That’s like when an amoeba is at the mid-point of separating from itself but is not yet two distinct bodies. Once you become a different version of yourself, you can look at some past actions with regret but not shame because it’s like observing someone else altogether.

Then again, that might be another self-deluding defense mechanism. I’m not really sure either way.

The Nazi room

Some friends have said that they regret using Facebook because it makes them like their peers less. That someone they would probably like in person becomes someone they can’t stand because of the opinions they post. I understand this sentiment, and at times I can relate to it. But at the same time, it’s hard to believe that somebody’s defining beliefs and overall worldview would never be expressed face to face if you know them well enough. And if they are hiding certain values, I’m not sure I’d rather be unaware of what those values are.

In the past, I have written that there is no single “true” self. People are multifaceted, and we can be kinder and more complicated than our belief systems. I don’t believe that a human necessarily has only one set of values; they can have several at odds with one another. But even if their values aren’t a neatly matching set, others can still feel alienated by a particular belief they have—even with the awareness that it isn’t their only belief. I know I will distance myself from a person if they express specific beliefs, just as I know I’m not exempt from alienating others with mine.

The internet is a paradoxical place. It’s a space where humans are bolder and more confrontational about expressing themselves, and at the same time more cautious if their words are for public consumption. It’s a place where individuals can perform a one-dimensional version of themselves, and where they can also share sides of their psyche that are not usually seen. It’s a meeting ground where people dismiss each other more readily because it’s easier to see a human as a set of pixels or an algorithm, but people also might offer each other more time. Because the online world is us, an outgrowth of both space and time.

Just as the internet is people and the internet is a place, people are places. Some are homes. Some are locations we think are homes, but turn out to be stops along the way. Some are havens we visit routinely, but where we don’t ultimately live. That’s why I think of a personality as a house. Some houses have consistent themes throughout. Those homes are cozy and predictable. Some prefer that, others find it dull. Some houses are neat and affable in the rooms that are meant for showcasing, but complete chaos in the private quarters. And others don’t hide their mess.

This is the type of home I’d find most disconcerting: The social, guest-receiving rooms are open and embracing. The living room contains an MLK poster and books about environmentalism and civil rights. Then, somewhere tucked far down a hallway, there’s a study full of KKK propaganda and Nazi memorabilia. The resident is flustered upon guests discovering it, but insists it’s “not a racist thing.” They say they have no problem with (X minority group), they just “don’t want them in their country.” (So what does “having no problem with them” mean? Not objecting to their basic existence, provided that existence occurs far away and they never have to inhabit the same space?) The person who owns and maintains this house may not see the space dedicated to bigotry as their “true” room. They may see it as just one coexisting with all the others, no more of a core space than anywhere else. They may even like to have minority friends in the house; just not in that area. But the guests who liked the main quarters won’t feel comfortable there anymore, and it would be especially scary if the house was a place where they’d regularly enjoyed spending time.

That figurative house is who some people are. Some may not actually be aware that they contain that specific room. Others might know about it but blame others for putting the contents inside, not acknowledging that they choose to hold onto those things. And I know my definition of welcoming is subjective; some would feel a lot more embraced in the bigotry room than in the main socially presented areas. But that is how I see it, and I think the internet provides a window into rooms that might not otherwise be seen—even by those who live in the house. The difference lies in whether or not the homeowner justifies that room; whether they respond to its discovery by more carefully hiding the contents, by bringing them out into the open, or by trying to renovate.

Vulnerability as a pejorative

I may have figured out why “Tumblr” is often used as a disparaging adjective (calling a person “so Tumblr”, etc). It’s not just because of associations with far-left politics—although, despite the common perception, it’s not exclusively so. There are Tumblr pages and communities all over the ideological spectrum. The popular contempt for the website also may be because it’s an outlet for emotional first-person confessionals. That kind of vulnerability gets sneered at. Some entries may sound kind of exaggerated or theatrical, but I think what it really boils down to is that the genuinely heartfelt narratives make a lot of people uncomfortable. Readers don’t want to be raw, so they don’t like seeing others that way. That reaction is a kind of non-empathetic empathy.

Such self-expression is dismissed as juvenile because the expectation is that adults talk “rationally” about work and money while teenagers talk about feelings. And honestly, I’m tired of that norm for adults.

There is something about openness that makes some see you as a receptacle. If you’re open, the jaded people want to reach into your space and either drain your substance or replace it with their own. I think there need to be communities where people can talk sincerely with friends or strangers or just a blank page, siphoning off their thoughts into the reflective a.m. hours. Tumblr isn’t perfect, but I’m glad it serves that need for so many.

Imaginary seats

Today I was on the swing at the park and a 6-year-old girl was on the blue swing next to me. She got off it for a moment, pushed the empty swing, and told me, "I'm pushing nobody!"

I said, "You're pushing an invisible person."

She answered, "Well, I have an imaginary friend named Mickey, so let's say I'm pushing him."

Over the next few minutes, I guess Mickey became a little more real to her. Another girl from her kindergarten class came by and wanted that empty blue swing, but Morgan (the first girl) said, "No, Mickey's on it!"

They started to bicker. I offered my swing, but the other little girl specifically wanted "Mickey's". So I looked at the empty plastic seat and said, "Mickey, I think this girl wants a turn. Can you let her have it for a minute?"

Morgan immediately eased up and said, "Okay!". She and her invisible friend pushed the other girl together, and they both intermittently conversed with "Mickey."

I think it can help to meet little kids where they are. As funny as it is that she wanted her imaginary friend to stay on the swing, it wouldn't have worked to tell her Mickey wasn't real. Sometimes it's most effective to cooperate with their make-believe scenario and solve problems within it.

(Pictured: Mickey on the blue swing.)

Distrust of finite objects

For a while, I've had a theory that people tend to be suspicious of something that holds a lot of information if they can't see the entirety of where that information is stored. It's why I prefer physical books to eBooks or Kindle; I like to see all the pages together. It also seems to be why Arthur Weasley told Ginny in the second Harry Potter book, "Don't trust something that thinks if you can't see where it keeps its brain."

This may also extend, partly, to why so many humans are distrustful of one another. Among other reasons, it may be because we know that people have whole worlds of thoughts contained within a finite body part, and we can't see the thoughts from the outside.

Life as a list

I've been thinking about why people are inclined to make lists, both physically and philosophically. This is my theory: Our lives are lists. They're catalogs of people we've encountered, events we experienced passively, and events we caused. A lot of these components are random, but we spend years trying to come up with a title for the compilation in order to pull it all together and give it a common theme.

I was going to add that we're often shaped by whether we try to make our lives into "things to do" or "things to obtain" lists. But for a lot of us, experiences and accomplishments *are* things to obtain. Also, a person whose primary goal is to amass things may not be materialistic; they may have very few resources and be concerned with survival. So being able to focus on non-survival based goals is a privilege.

The "life is a list" theory makes our smaller lists very meta. Daily goals and itinerary are lots of little collections inside a much larger one.

Self conscious vs. self aware

I wonder why "self-conscious" has come to mean self-critical or embarrassed, when the words themselves just mean aware of the self--not necessitating a judgmental eye. The usage implies that to be conscious of the self is to be self-scolding, when it doesn't have to be that way. To me, self-consciousness is recognition of one's own strengths as well as weaknesses. It could also include neutral observations.

Animals and ego

I spend a lot of time wondering what it's like to have the mind of another animal. Not a species that exists in a completely different way than we do, like fish or insects. More like the internal life of a cat, or dog, or horse, or bird, or other species that humans are better able to relate to. They're said to not exactly have an ego, because they don't have a sense of self. They don't contemplate themselves or recognize their reflections in mirrors. But in another way, they really do seem to have a sense of self because they have distinct desires, fears, likes and dislikes. They form attachments and aversions to other creatures. Those traits all seem rooted in ego because they stem from the way the animal is treated, and what makes them feel good, and what seems like a threat. If not an ego, that's definitely a will. So I wonder what it's like to live with a will but no ego, and if that's even possible for humans with the ways our brains are structured.

The structure of paranoia

I've known a few people who always thought someone was plotting against them when something unfortunate happened. If they lost a belonging, they'd immediately say it was stolen and start blaming family and friends. If their pet got sick, they'd say it must have been poisoned by their neighbor. One of these people had been diagnosed with a mental health condition involving paranoia. But from an emotional perspective, it makes sense why a person might prefer to believe they're being attacked than to think random circumstances are causing harm. Even though it's upsetting to believe someone is out to get them, it provides a distinct reason for what happened and a target to fault. It gives the person a sense of control, even if they think somebody *else* was in control. And it stops self-blame or undirected blame, which leads to sadness. Instead that is converted to anger, which feels more organized by offering a goal.

I'm not saying this is a reasonable or productive way to respond to bad circumstances--it's not. But it's understandable why somebody might gravitate toward that reaction.

Fetishization and fear

Most people seem to know a guy who rails against same-sex marriage but loves lesbian porn. The hypocrisy is pointed out, and it’s accurate. That type of attitude is hypocritical and wrong, although I’d say it’s not surprising.

For humans, the disgust and arousal impulses are very similar. It sounds counterintuitive because those feelings seem like opposites, but they stimulate the same part of the brain. That’s why a lot of people do things during sex that they might otherwise think of as “gross.” That’s why fetishes and phobias are often flip sides of the same coin. I learned that when a person has a fetish, it often used to be a phobia. It just happened to transform from a fear into something that intensely arouses the person, either by chance or as a coping method.

When someone is homophobic but also really into watching two women have sex, it’s both a fear and a fetish. Fetishes are usually applied to inanimate objects, whereas lesbians are obviously people, but a homophobe doesn’t see them as people. He sees them as objects he watches and fantasizes about and then rejects in disgust. (Women can definitely be homophobic too, but I’m using a straight man in this example because so many people have aptly brought up the fact that homophobic men who like lesbian porn are hypocrites.)

This can also be seen in politicians who draft anti-gay and anti-trans policies but are then caught having sex with gay and transgender people. If they’re sleeping with someone of the same gender, many people will respond by saying that homophobes are secretly gay. While it’s true that some are closeted and overcompensating, I’d say that it’s more than a matter of just being gay and not wanting the public to know. It’s a combination of fetishization and fear. If they are hostile toward the LGBT community, they are probably not respectful toward the person of the same gender whom they’re involved with. They most likely dehumanize them. And when a homophobic person is immediately assumed to be gay, that can reinforce the idea that gay people are their own worst enemies and that they’re the ones who are really oppressing each other, which absolves straight homophobes of responsibility.

Passivity vs. Kindness

         Alongside the avenue of "women only date jerks," there's a common complaint that "She said she's not into him because he's 'too nice.'" I have heard people describe others as "too nice," although I've never heard a woman say she was disinterested in a man for that reason. Because it's such a commonly quoted basis for rejection, though, it's worth examining.

        Every time I have ever heard anybody described as "too nice," the person making the criticism was not saying the other was overly good-hearted, too considerate, or had too much integrity. An excess of those traits is impossible. What they were expressing was that the person was overly passive. And, while many use the word "nice" when they really mean "passive," saying someone is too passive is not just another way of saying "nice." While the traits can overlap, there is a distinction between kindness and passivity. And, for that reason, "Don't be too passive" doesn't mean "Be an asshole." It's not a spectrum; it's a whole different thing.

        "Too nice" is meant to convey that someone echoes everything you say without ever voicing a differing point of view, even when they disagree. It means they constantly apologize for things that are not their fault and they don't speak up for themselves or for others who are being mistreated, out of fear of confrontation. It means they might welcome harmful people into their own lives, or into the lives of those close to them, because they think it's "mean" to establish boundaries—which can end up causing others' boundaries to be violated as well. It means they follow another person around without seeming to have any interests, beliefs, or passions of their own. Being bland, overly meek, or clingy isn't the same as being "nice." Sometimes those qualities are actually motivated by self-interest, rather than a pure desire to please others.

         It's similar to the way that self-abasement is sometimes a defense mechanism, rather than a lack of ego (and a complete absence of ego is not something I would recommend trying to achieve, anyway). If you castigate yourself first, it can insulate you from being criticized by others. If you preemptively decide you're going to fail, it can exempt you from having to try. This is not true for everyone who has low self-esteem, but I have seen self-chastisement used defensively many times, and have caught myself doing it for those same reasons.

         You can be a good person who also happens to be passive, but passivity doesn't equate to goodness. And most people who call someone "too nice" are referring to the former quality, not the latter. Additionally, I've noticed that excessive passivity tends to be discouraged in men but praised in women, when every person should be encouraged to stand up for themselves and to have their own identity.

The horror of diagnosis

A lot of horror movies feature themes of psychiatric hospitals and patients. I can enjoy some of those films as long as they're well-made and don't generally vilify people with mental health issues, but I notice that the theme seems to be prevalent because mental illness frightens the public. It can be scary to see someone behaving erratically, but a lot of the fear is based on lack of information or on misinformation—much of which is spread via this type of media. It becomes a cycle. And while there should be a difference between fearing a mental health issue and fearing the actual people who have it, these fears tend to become intertwined. Although a person with a psychiatric disorder can be violent or predatory, it's almost always because they had an inclination to be that way in the first place, not because of the disorder. Sometimes the fear isn't entirely projected onto others, though. Sometimes people are afraid of developing a similar condition themselves.

I used to think mental health-centered horror films were purely told from an outsider perspective; from the narrative of someone encountering others with psychiatric conditions. That's undeniably a huge part of it. However, there's also a common theme of the main character finding themselves in a similar state. So many horror tropes seem to mirror the experience of entering psychosis or having an episode. Demonic possession may represent being taken over by a force (in this case, a psychological one) which is completely unfamiliar and terrifying to them, but coming from within. In that way it might seem like even more of an imposition than an external force would, because it can feel like self-betrayal. The same is true for plot lines involving alien abductions or ghost hauntings. It symbolizes a problem that intrudes upon your life and your mind, refusing to leave. This problem could be trauma, or it could be an innate condition. Paranoia of the main character can look very much like the paranoia suffered by a person in the midst of psychosis. The story trope of nobody believing the protagonist, and either mocking or persecuting them for talking about what's going on, is very true to life for those who manage day to day with mental health issues. So is the sense of isolation and dread which manifests physically in the scenery of horror films. The sudden, startling movements which are frequent in these films can be similar to hallucinations. And in horror movies, magical thinking is always real. It feels just as real to many who struggle with it.

Of course, there are numerous other mental health conditions other than psychosis-based ones. But horror movies tend to most strongly evoke themes of psychosis-based disorders. I have a lot of friends who have experienced these things and describe them in similar ways. I myself have depression, anxiety, and OCD. I've never been in a psychosis, but even the problems I have remind me of some of those themes.

Unconditional love vs. unconditional trust

People tend to think that if you love someone unconditionally, then you're obligated to trust them unconditionally as well. But while love may not always be "earned," trust definitely is. I've heard it said that the best way to find out if you can trust somebody is to trust them. It's true, but if they proceed to betray your confidence, you're not obliged to continue to trust them out of love. That can turn into enabling.
              I'm not referring to romantic relationships. That type of love, while incredibly strong, is often built on the way your partner behaves. And even if the love itself is unconditional, the relationship isn't entirely so. I'm thinking more along the lines of family relationships; people you didn't choose to bring into your life but need to establish boundaries with, which can sometimes mean limiting or ending contact. Standing up for yourself does not mean you no longer love them.

The social etiquette of dreams

It always seems awkward to tell somebody you had a dream about them, unless they're a person you're really close to or the dream was hilarious. I wonder why this is. After all, we have dreams that feature casual acquaintances all the time. All it means is that they crossed our mind—and that, in itself, is not considered a particularly revealing fact. So why are dreams regarded as more private?

On a related note, it's also awkward when somebody tells you that you did something really hostile or rude in their dream. Are you supposed to apologize? What can you say, "I'm sorry your subconscious representation of me is such a jerk"?

My dreams are becoming more Freudian.

Last night I dreamed about an anxious mind taking the form of a haunted house. Each room was a separate lobe in the brain representing its own fear or memory. The doors that connected them were linked thoughts.
              I guess we do carry our homes around, but we don't always have to be stuck in the same rooms. We can renovate.