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Archive for the ‘Psychology’ Category

November 24th, 2012 authors, books, Colorado, fiction, Human Nature, Kate Genet, Kelli Jae Baeli, Psychology, relationships, Uncategorized, writing No Comments »

Prequels, Sequels, & Spinoffs

Syzygy. Amazingly, the only English word with three Y’s also happens to describe a rare astronomical event involving three heavenly bodies. A syzygy is the alignment of three celestial bodies in a straight line…

On December 3, 2012, Saturn, Venus & Mercury will align. On that same night, 3 women align to see that justice is done.

Ponzi Bonnet thought she had found the perfect husband. A psychologist could certainly understand her damage. But her suspicion of infidelity turns out to be something far worse. Far more sinister. And he had to be stopped.

This new book I’m working on–and almost finished with–is altogether different from any of my others. For one, it’s darker. I usually like to write “dramedy”– an equal mixture of drama and comedy. And I lean toward romantic – suspense – adventure -style plots. The plot in Syzygy is adventuresome, but perhaps that’s where the similarity ends. It deals with some darker subjects. Some disturbing places in the human psyche. I’m not sure of it…I haven’t even let Kate read any of it. She will be acting as my first Beta reader, because I want an impression based on the entire book, without any foreknowledge of content. (Just like most readers get to approach a book). But this has also made it more challenging, because I can’t discuss it with her to help me work things out–to be fair, or to perhaps torture me, she is also keeping mum on her current book (Irrevocable). I will be Beta reader on that one too.

So here’s what happened….I had been working on the 3rd in my AKA Investigations series and I was having trouble with it. Not surprising, after having so much trouble in the last couple of years with the writing…huge changes, huge challenges, and so much had been happening in my life to suck the muse right out of my head…(any of you who read my blog regularly are familiar with what I’m referring to). So I continued to struggle with this one…and then I realized what the problem was. Oddly, I was having trouble getting my MAIN characters in the book after the halfway point. Not a good sign. One of the subplots had started growing and I found that my main characters were being left out in favor of a couple of minor characters. So I thought, well maybe there’s another book here…maybe I’m trying to write two books. So I snatched out the plotline and characters from that portion and put it in a separate file and began to work on it–feeling like I was sort of “cheating” on my other characters by doing so. But it was pushing me to be written. Those characters were being insistent. They had a story to tell and they wanted me to tell it.

So. I was surprised about this new book. It wasn’t even on the docket.

SIDEBAR. I have been trying for years now to get all the other books written that are waiting in line. Some half-done, some just ideas. Like Quintessence, Somewhere Else, Curse of Madagascar, Another Justice, The Girls in the Band, and newer ones like, Hanging the Moon [with Kate Genet], Behind the Left: Authoring the Apocalypse, and a sequel to Resurrection Sticks –and those are just the fiction ones

This book, Syzygy, is also a concept-novel. A concept I came up with–not sure if anyone else ever came up with it too, but for me at least, it’s a new idea…it’s what I might call a spinoff-prequel. The new book sprang from the events and secondary characters of the original one. I started thinking about how interesting it would be to know more about those characters–like, what was happening in THEIR lives, that was just outside the purview of the plot in the book I was working on? What might that scene be like if it was written from the point of view of that other character? So then, an entirely new story evolved, but it was based on the original story in the AKA book. Only, it focused on those secondary characters, making them main characters, and then the main characters from the AKA book became the secondary characters in the new book. So here, I have a timeline of events, and in Syzygy, I’m telling the story of Ponzi Bonnet, Kenda Harper, Anna Dew, Garrison Bishop and Payne Hollister. And in AKA, I’m telling the story during the same timeline but through the characters of Jobeth, Phoebe, Izzy and Ginger. It almost means I need to write both of these books and release them at the same time, but that might be too maddening. So I think I will finish and release Syzygy first, since its timeline might be a little earlier, by about a week or two, than the AKA book. It would also give away less than the AKA book would, if I did that one first. I don’t want to have one book serving as a SPOILER for the other.

I feel like I’m rambling. I’m on first cup of coffee…NOTE TO SELF. Don’t ramble. anyway…

It’s a different sort of challenge, as it’s almost like writing a series, but slightly different…I have to think about what I write in Syzygy affecting what I’ll be writing in the 3rd AKA book. I have to make sure I don’t contradict things. Like I can’t have two different things happening to a character at the same time

(or can I?….. STOP IT.)

All of this has me thinking that there are all these other stories that can stem from stories I’ve written. The other perspectives. The other characters who play a minor role, but have an entire world of their own going on during those events. It’s also a way to create a thread of interest in readership–those who enjoy my books will find alternate stories that are peripheral to the ones they’ve already read. I find the whole concept fascinating. I hope a reader would, too. I have recently been concerned about my literary diversification–I do myself no favors by gaining a reader who then reads a certain genre of mine and realizes there aren’t any more of those yet, but that I jumped over and wrote nonfiction, or in some other genre…. (That’s another blog I wrote half of, but haven’t posted yet).

Jeez. I’m scattered.

Did I mention we’re moving 2 hours away in a week?

Yeah. got that nonfiction stuff to deal with too.

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September 30th, 2012 change, creativity, Highly Sensitive Person, HSP, Kelli Jae Baeli, Psychology, Sensory Processing Sensitivity, writing No Comments »

Word Count & a Teeming Brain

One writer mentioned on her blog that she hates it when other writers have word count widgets on their blogs. It was as if they were showing off how much writing they got done. She didn’t do word counts herself because there were times when she took writing out and replaced it, and then the word count stayed the same even though she might have had a perfectly good day’s writing under her literary belt.

I have word count meters on my blog, but not for the reasons the aforementioned writer says. I have a word count meter because first, it lets my readers know I’m working on something, and what it is, and second, (and most importantly), it helps motivate ME. It’s not about showing off. That becomes obvious when you realize that I have the same issue the blogger/writer said. I often rewrite from notes in the document. Once that’s done, I delete the notes, and that often makes me break even on word count. So it’s not about crowing that I got so much work done, it’s about motivating myself in any way possible toward reaching a goal. And if you do enough writing, often enough, you eventually get that word count up anyway until the book is completed. So it doesn’t matter if the meter breaks even some days. On other days, it won’t.  I also like looking down at the toolbar in Word and seeing that number rising. Again, it’s about motivation. If I see that I’ve just put down 300 words, there’s a little niggling voice that says try for 300 more…and I usually do.

Hey, whatever it takes.

I have been struggling to get back in my writing groove for a couple of years now, and that’s not something I’ve ever had to deal with before. Until now, I’ve never known what it was like to struggle with writing. But after seeing an article that came up on one of my Google Alerts, and giving it some deeper thought, it finally sunk in on a conscious level that this dilemma has a great deal to do with who I am, physiologically

As a person with SPS (Sensory Processing Sensitivity) or more commonly referred to as HSP – (Highly Sensitive Person) –a moniker I don’t care for as the connotation is misleading–I was reminded of how crucial it is for me to be in control of my environment. I need to have my routines and rituals to comfort me, free my mind from those things that would create a vortex for the creativity to irretrievably fall into (vorTEXT…there’s a joke in there somewhere…but I’m too distracted to think about it). For me, this vortex gets created by chaos, big changes, too many people, too much to do, and missing creature comforts, mostly. This is a sure way for me to become so distracted and uneasy, that I find it almost impossible to tap into either the work ethic or the creativity. And the past few years have been a circus of chaos and change. My chi has been fucked with to the nth degree for far too long.

So I acknowledge the sound reasons why my productivity has waned, while continuing to simultaneously seek solutions and be gentle with myself. It’s a precarious balance.

As I get older, I am more fearful rather than less so. I feel the creep of Age and all that comes stuffed in its pockets. I feel my mortality. Feel how tenuous life is, how precious time is and how inextricably we are caught in the linear-ness of it. I actually get PISSED OFF when I look at the clock and see that more time has passed. How dare it? It keeps ticking away and the only thing that can stop it, is the thing I wish to avoid the most. Irony, through and through.

The article I mentioned refers to a Keats poem which I somehow missed in all those literature classes…but it did speak as if from my own head and heart….

When I have fears that I may cease to be
Before my pen has gleaned my teeming brain,
Before high grav’d books, in charact’ry,
Hold like rich garners the full-ripen’d grain;
When I behold, upon the night’s starr’d face,
Huge cloudy symbols of a high romance,
And think that I may never live to trace
Their shadows, with the magic hand of chance;
And when I feel, fair creature of an hour,
That I shall never look upon thee more,
Never have relish in the faery power
Of unreflecting love!—then on the shore
Of the wide world I stand alone, and think
Till Love and Fame to Nothingness do sink.

(c)Isaac Salazar

I have always had a profound fear that I will never live long enough to write all the books I wish to write. I also fear losing my great Love–the One it took me so long to find. Perhaps the only thing I fear as much is just suffering some horrible illness, but even that is connected to the fear of a premature demise. It always seems doubly tragic whenever the world loses great minds, creative people who have given us so much, and as a creative person, I feel a great responsibility to put my work out there. It’s my duty, my one great reason for existence.

Keats’ paradox in the metaphor of the ripened grain–that he is both the harvest and the harvester, is true as well for me. Or for any creative person. I am essentially a book, as well as the creator of the book. I create myself each time I go through this process. The creator and the created.

As a person with SPS, it’s easy to feel apart from the world, and having someone to love is equal parts comforting and fearful. Having that one great love also brings with it the fear of losing that one great love. The proverbial double-edged sword. The sword I hope not to fall upon in my passion to avoid that which frightens me (can you say self-fullfiling prophesy?).

 

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September 22nd, 2012 authors, creativity, Kelli Jae Baeli, Philosophy, Psychology, writing No Comments »

Bloody Hands

Every novelist should sit down at the keyboard with blood on their hands.

To know what it feels like to have been wronged and to have wronged. To be guilty and innocent.

A novelist must have truly lived her life–sucked the marrow, tended the wounds, lashed out in fear and anger, in order to write a story that speaks authentically at deeper levels; that explores human nature and the human condition in all its beauty and ugliness. A novelist must have experienced life–that visceral knowledge that comes only from having felt the range of emotions, discovered the myriad permutations of challenge and question and suffering and joy. There are indeed degrees of depth in a story and in the characters that populate its pages. We can write for entertainment, and leave it at that, or we can dig deeper. I enjoy the writing most when it marries the elements of humor and drama. When I can show characters facing challenges, while also interacting in sometimes absurd or humorous ways. I love witty repartee as much as heartfelt confessions or moments of miscalculation. You can only impart this protean story if you have been in the trenches and know what it really feels like to get your hands dirty, your brain animated, your heart broken.

How would it even be possible, I wonder, for a novelist to be absent these characteristics? Perhaps she would have to be born in a remote mountain cabin and her mother die when she was young, and then continue to live there, avoiding the natural experience that just comes from living, and interacting with the world and the other people in it…but then, this isolated being would have experienced loneliness and loss, at least. So it is, as always, a question of degrees. Creative people, et al, by their nature feel things to a more intense degree than others. Not by virtue of what they do, but by who they are, which led them to express those things in what they do. You can learn vicariously through the stories of others, through television and literature, but this is no substitute for the experiences themselves.

While I can lament the sometimes painful history of my life, I know that I would not be nearly so well-rounded, would not have much wisdom to share, and would not be able to solve as many problems so effectively, nor communicate myself with any clarity, had I not journeyed through those challenges that so pained me, yet created a stronger individual.

This all begins, of course, with childhood, and the parenting we did (or did not) receive. I was not physically abused, but I was emotionally abused and some psychologists say (one actually said to me, specifically) that often emotional abuse is more difficult. If my parents had hit me (other than the slaps I received from my mother) then I would at least know they knew I existed. But I had an overweening sense that I was invisible. My parents ignored me for the most part. They were apathetic. Their sin was a sin of omission. I was always trying to exist. Trying to be noticed and acknowledged in some positive way, and given some indication that I mattered.

But this, I recognize as the reason for my attachment to my identity markers…the activities, thoughts and expressions that make me who I am. I am defined by those things I do, those things I create…I feel invisible without those identity markers. And this brings me back full circle to the writing. I am grateful that I have something to say when I sit down to write. I am chagrined that those words stem so often from loss and disappointment, and so rarely, from a place of hope and happiness. I am a writer. It’s as much a part of me as my skin. I can say that, even amid this writer’s block I have struggled with for the last few years. I know the delicate balance of identity was overturned, and it will take righting it again completely before I can return to my usual voluminous production. This is where discipline comes in. And I have dedicated myself, now, to sitting here and writing something every day. Anything. Even if it isn’t what I would prefer, nor quite yet what it was before.

But I know that because I do have blood on my hands, I am able to, with some measure of authority, say that I know what I write is real. Because it was hard won, and there were casualties.

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June 29th, 2012 fiction, Psychology, writing No Comments »

The Truth of Fiction

I was just thinking about what a reader said to me about one of my books–that it bothered her it was not explained why one character did something to another. I assumed this would be obvious by the context and the characters and also knowing that people just do things for their own reasons and you can usually guess what that is if you’re absorbing the nuances of the story. But no. Some readers see to want an explanation for everything, even when an explanation can be interpreted or assumed.

Perhaps this is because in reading fiction, we want to be taken away from our lives for a moment and into another world, but we also want that world to make sense because so often, our own does not. This same reader also complained “skilled people, especially those 4 should not have been portrayed as that stupid and helpless.” I was a bit floored by this, as it indicated to me that she thought those characters should not have any flaws, and should always know the right thing to do and magically avoid anything that might not leave them in control of a situation. I told her:

“yes, they are skilled, but they are also human, and I don’t believe in making characters into obligatory heroes, as a matter of course. They are human, they make bad decisions, misunderstand, do their best while flying by the seat of their pants. I don’t think that makes them stupid–they were dealing with a very confusing situation that didn’t make sense and had to work it out eventually. I can tell you from personal experience that you can be skilled and intelligent, and STILL screw things up and find yourself helpless. So this was my way of allowing my characters all their humanity, and still showing the strength of the human will and spirit. Hope that helps.”

Mind you, this reader gave me glowing reviews otherwise, on both books in the AKA Investigation series. But another bother for her was: “the confrontation with the enemy. the chasing, captures and recaptures and mountains, etc… was frustrating. ” And I answered:

“This is a dramatic device, also known as psychological suspense, a way to build tension and to keep placing obstacles in front of the characters and let them figure out how to get out of it. I guess not everyone wants that much tension. lol. But I enjoy piling on the challenges so I can test the characters, and make their ultimate triumph all the more sweet. But tension can be frustrating….that’s the nature of it. In a story though, I find it more satisfying if I wonder all the time how the hell a character is going to get out of a seemingly insurmountable dilemma.”

So we strive for truth in our fiction, ironic as that is, and still, we will come across those who really don’t want some truths, and some they want more of than we can offer, or they want outright lies. But as you’ve pointed out, Kate, we will never be able to please everyone with our writing. Even though it really bothers me that i can’t. :^)

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June 14th, 2012 authors, book review, fiction, Kate Genet, Kelli Jae Baeli, New Zealand, Psychology, relationships, writing No Comments »

Building Character- A Review of new novel by Kate Genet

Writing teachers will tell you that a novel should begin in medias res–in the middle of the action. While I do believe this is preferable, if the story allows it, I don’t believe it should be chiseled in stone–good writers know enough about the craft, to understand when the rules are meant to be broken. I’ve never been a big fan of formula fiction, unless an author can take that formula and do something new with it. And while I wouldn’t consider Building Character “formula fiction” per se, there are will be some formulas in every book; I am interested in the conventions that stray from it, as this is a good thing. Genet knows how to do that, and she does with her own personal flair and expertise.

In regard to the caveat of in medias res in Building Character, the whole story is in the middle of the action. From the first two paragraphs, I could tell that something delicious was building. And I appreciated the author for giving me a firm grasp on the main character, so that it would make perfect sense and still be delightful. The discerning reader will be able to sense that Genet is illuminating Fen Marshall in a particular way, and for a particular purpose, and the more we learn about Fen’s idiosyncrasies, the more intriguing and exciting the ensuing plot promises to be.

In a world permeated with the sensibility of instant gratification, and literary caveats that tell writers they must begin a book by grabbing the readers by the throat–I suspect because of the aforementioned instant gratification propensity–I must warn the reader that Building Character does not begin with a car chase or an arrow in the heart, nor any explosions, earthquakes or tsunamis, nor a character dangling from the ledge of a 10 story structure by her fingertips. It begins with a character. And it’s crucial to understand who she is in order to appreciate what happens, and how she evolves. Yet in doing this character development, Genet does not bore us with play-by-play or tedious details, but only with details that develop character, and move the story toward that first tipping point, and then pulls us along to each ensuing tipping point, until the end of every page is an irresistible invitation to continue to the page beyond.

The title of this novel is key to the many levels that exist inside the story. Genet builds a character for the reader, expertly, and with finesse. The main character, as an author herself, builds a character, who becomes a unique and intriguing antagonist. And the main character also builds her own character, as she maneuvers the obstacles presented by this vixen-cum-succubus, Ruby, which Genet (masquerading as Fen) brings to light.

While I could not identify personally with Fen on all levels, since she is an odd character with certain quirks, who does not enjoy the company of other people, nor seek love, I immediately loved her. I could relate to the often taxing nature of other people, and how they can suck the energy out of you. I also understood the need for time and space to create, and the almost holy nature of my home as sanctuary. I am not cut from the same cloth as Fen Marshall, but the cloth shares many of the same colors. I understood her, and was at once intrigued, enamored and entertained by her peculiarities and defenses.

The characters of Fen, Ruby, and Marissa were brilliant, and masterful manifestations of the darker elements of the human psyche, though the antagonists Ruby and Marissa were disturbing in two completely different ways. I have known quite a few people like Marissa, and like Ruby as well, except that I might not have seen the Rubys in this world as clearly as Genet sketches her, as I run screaming in the other direction before becoming entrenched with them. It’s this entrenchment on the part of Fen that gets her in so much trouble. By the time she realizes the untapped desires and blind spots that Ruby ignites, she has been sucked to the event horizon of that black hole, and is inches away from spiraling into the abyss of intrigue, lust, and the epiphany of awakened erotic hunger. This can be a force both ominous and all-encompassing.

Genet is well aware of her target audience–mostly lesbians and open-minded others who delight in a thought-provoking and entertaining read. I found Marissa’s behavior in the book very credible, and I immediately recognized her from my own personal experience with obsessive women. I can say that her abnormal ideation was spot-on. This assessment is supported by any psychologist you might care to contact, as well. If a reader has limited experience and knowledge of this psychological aspect of the subject matter, they might be surprised that these things really do happen (not manifesting a person out of sheer force of will, of course, but of how the human mind operates). The female psyche has its own nature, and I appreciated the subtle shading and color contrasts of the character-portraits Genet was painting, as well as the more specific subset of love and passion between two women, and the obsessional aspects inherent in each realm. This book is written by a highly intelligent author who deals with some profound subjects, and thus, to truly appreciate it on all its myriad levels, you must be able to appreciate nuance and understand a bit about human nature and psychology.

The classic conflicts in literature, which we all learn in school, is a character against an antagonist, a character against society, a character against nature, and a character against herself. Building Character embodies all of these conflicts, and is expertly rendered by Genet, woven into the story in such a seamless way, that (as an author myself) I was envious of her skill. Add the elements of the supernatural, psychological suspense, and of course the not-so-common lesbian erotica, well-wrought, and you have a book that can be enjoyed by those from many walks of life. For it speaks to us on our most fundamental level; reminds us that what we create does have a life of its own, and we should be mindful of the power it can have, the havoc it can wreak, and the lesson it can teach us about hubris and the corrupting nature of need, desire and loneliness. You can fall in love with the wrong person just like you can NOT fall in love with the right one. And it is in this precarious balance that Genet reveals the meat of the story. In good fiction, there must be conflict, an attempt to ease the conflict, or exacerbation of conflict, and resolution of conflict. Genet orchestrates these elements adroitly.

With titillating and absolutely carnal and scorching sexual encounters fraught with deeper meaning, clean, picturesque prose and realistic, interesting dialogue, along with clever and exciting plotlines, Building Character was like great food to me. Delicious, perfect texture and taste, pleasing presentation, and in the end, so satisfying that it takes a place in your mind as one of your all-time favorite meals. I encourage everyone who appreciates quality writing to imbibe this wonderful book like the literary white chocolate that it is.

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January 22nd, 2012 challenge, Highly Sensitive Person, HSP, Psychology, relationships, Sensory Processing Sensitivity 1 Comment »

The Fourth Betrayal

NOTE: So, in my seeking help when i needed it, for my recent betrayals and abandonments, the counselor i went to see called the next day to inform me she couldn’t see me anymore and for a really stupid reason. I tried to reason with her on the phone, but she had to stand by what she felt was her principals, but which was only LOFTY IDEAS getting in the way of her ability to give the actual care she had sworn to as a medical professional. Finally frustrated beyond words and feeling even worse, i hung up on her. The next day, i got this mail. My answer follows below.

 

Jan 20, 2012

Therapy@[Name Withheld].com

Dear Jae,
Since our telephone discussion did not go entirely well yesterday, I thought I would try to reach out to you via email. I was impressed with your level of honesty, as well as with your convictions about protecting yourself. As I mentioned, I fully understand where these fears emanate from and want to validate them as real and persistent concerns (for us both). On the other hand, as a therapist, and human being who has your best interest at heart, I would be remiss in minimizing the clear and present dangers of having weapons in your home, particularly when you are trying to sort through past and present trauma that exacerbates your hypersensitivity challenges. The boundaries and conditions that I have set in order to work with you are not to disarm or harm you, but are to perhaps protect you.
During our initial assessment, it was clear to me that you are ready for change, and that you have the internal and external resources to continue that process. I wish you ongoing success in all of your endeavors, especially the ones that keep you in touch with your passion (writing), and in touch with other writers. I believe you have a special gift.
I wish the best for you Jae, and sincerely hope that your tireless efforts to find a therapist suited to your needs end in success. The Maria Droste Counseling Center might be able to help you in your search (303) 756-9052.
Kind regards,
[VW]

 

Jan 20, 2012

FROM: jaebaeli

TO: [VW]

VW-

Strange. I just sat down to write to you, as well. Thank you for being the sort of person who follows up. That part is much appreciated.

Now, to clarify, I hung up on you because you had planted your feet and there seemed to be no reason to belabor a point you were incapable of exploring, even when I was willing to compromise. And in my emotional state, I was afraid to let the resulting impact of that escalate. It was best to “walk away.” But I couldn’t do that, because it was a phone call, so hanging up was my way of simply walking away. But I also realized you did not/do not know me, and so I decided I should explain myself in the best way I know how (writing) so that this chapter can have some closure. I don’t like leaving things undone.

Let me just say that I appreciate your stated reasons for the ultimatums you gave me, however, I cannot appreciate, nor accept the underlying truth that keeps those ultimatums from being thoroughly-reasoned-out conclusions. Disjunctive reasoning is a valuable skill that has saved me on many occasions, and I only wish you had been able to employ it as well. I will tell you exactly WHY your conclusions are ultimately not applicable:

a)   I have had guns all my life. I grew up having them as a child, I have a healthy respect for them. I have also, as an adult, always had a handgun for personal protection since that incident in the early 80’s. I have had plenty of emotional/mental provocation to use one of them against myself, if that’s the type of person I am. I have not.

b)   If you were able to destroy or otherwise remove any and all guns from my possession, or even do that also for everyone else in the world, it would not prevent someone from committing suicide, if that is their true intent. There are a million ways to die. If I wanted to die, I could simply fling myself in front of a Mack truck. DONE. Ergo, I firmly believe that guns do not kill people, people kill people.

c)   I made a decision long ago after that attack in Oklahoma, that I would never put myself in that foolish position of being defenseless against the violence present in this world and in some evil people. I was naïve at the time and had no cognizance that such things were truly sprinkled around everywhere, and could actually endanger me. Part of growing up. I will make no excuses for that decision, as I feel it is a wise one, and the right one for me. For me, the definition of stupidity (not insanity) is doing the same thing over and over and expecting a different result. For me to continue my life without protection, after what that experience taught me, would have been the definition of stupidity. I am many things, but stupid is not one of them. You cannot ask me to place myself in danger just to satisfy some erroneous idea you have about proper ethical concerns of your profession, when it might not always apply. That was inherently myopic of you.

I contacted you simply because I needed a friend and my current friends did not step up to the plate (their failing, not mine, as I have always been there for my friends [if they ARE my friends] no matter how uncomfortable it was for me, because I believe that is the very heart of friendship, and it’s also the person I choose to be). You were to be that surrogate friend, until I got my footing again. I did not reach out to you because I was suicidal. That was your assumption. Perhaps you had no way of knowing this because of how I sounded when I left the message—but I am an HSP and I allow myself to have my feelings, and they are sometimes (perhaps too often for my own good) that raw, and that’s the place I was in emotionally. I went to you in the practical sense, because I needed immediate attention, and for frequent intervals for a period of time, and could not get that at the VA because they are understaffed and there are so many veterans who need help. I went to you in the personal sense, because of my feelings of sadness and disillusionment, but mostly to deal with the sense of betrayal and abandonment. Then you informed me you could not see me if I had guns, after I had opened myself up to you in trust, and then exacerbated this by calling my counselor at the VA. Again, more betrayals, in my mind–emotionally. It was not your place to do that. Imagine my dismay when I took responsibility for myself, and was proactive, and the new therapist I reached out to, gave me still another example of those two vexations for my heart, mind and spirit.

This is not the way to gain the trust you so desire of your new patients. And as I pointed out, there’s a flaw in the logic, when you can ultimately do nothing to prevent someone from killing themselves if they really want to die. Your position, as I see it, is to give them reasons not to feel it is a solution, not to throw fuel on that fire.

Thus, open and honest is apparently no longer serving me. I did that with my best friend, telling her how I felt, and she turned it into something about her and betrayed me and our friendship and this has caused me great pain. This is why I needed some help—because the very thing I needed most was ironically the thing that caused the immediate problem.

I have reinvented myself many times, as conditions demanded, and I can do it again. Perhaps it’s time for me to join the masses and start playing those hold-out games, because it is becoming increasingly clear to me that I am (especially as an HSP) much too sensitive to withstand the salvo that seems to naturally result. I will have to start protecting myself more by holding back. I never liked how that felt, but I like very much less the result of my honesty and openness when it seems so many are able to take that information and inflict more harm. I have always blogged, and included in my books, every nuance of what I experience and feel; most directly in blogs—all those entries where I reveal myself in hopes that it might help someone else see that they are not alone in the human experience of isolation, or pain, or despondency, or anger. So I will now be making a private blog—private for ME. Anonymous, without my name or identity attached. That way, I still might be able to help someone else, without putting myself before a Grand Jury who will judge me based on their own biases, and not on the individual truths that reside in all of us. As I’ve said before, you have to recognize your truths in the daylight, before you can find them in the dark. Insofar as honesty with other people goes, I have also always said, I am only responsible for being honest, not for someone else‘s reaction to my honesty. But I can see now, that as honorable and ethical as that position is, it does not always translate well in this world when the result is more damage to ME.

I started my writer’s group for myself, yes, because I needed to get back into my passions and joys, for my own well-being, but I started it equally for the purpose of helping others because I knew that doing that would be good for them. And I don’t like the idea that anyone has ever felt the things I have. I won’t be that ghost that vanishes in their lives when the going gets tough. I will do what I have to do to survive, as I always have, because that’s who I am at my core. But I will not allow myself to walk around without skin anymore.

And I will let go of this idea that there are professional therapists who can really help me anymore than I can help myself. Crisis is the only time I reach out, because I don’t feel I can access those parts of myself when I am in that mode, and I need a steadying presence to help me do that. Friends have been that for me, but sometimes they are not there when that onslaught come around the bend.

I hope that helps to clarify my position on this situation.

Thank you for your time.

Jae

 

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December 26th, 2011 books, creativity, Highly Sensitive Person, HSP, humor, Kelli Jae Baeli, Philosophy, politics, Psychology, Sensory Processing Sensitivity, writing No Comments »

Creativity, Intelligence & Depressive Realism

From a Facebook post I made, a thought-provoking subject emerged.

Jae Baeli : “Happiness in intelligent people is the rarest thing I know.” ~ Ernest Hemingway

Tina Harada likes this.

Amanda Gulledge
I frowned when I read that so I would feel more intelligent.

Candace Lynn Breaux
Is that why I am unhappy so much of the time? LOL

Jae Baeli
LOL. Amanda–you crack me up.

Candy–probably, yes.

Victoria Bard
love it…so true!

Sandi Partee
hmmm…so does that mean I’m not intelligent? Cause I’m happy as a lark! LOL!

I understand Sandi’s reply was meant lightly, but let me just address the topic of Intelligence and Happiness…

I don’t think the two are mutually exclusive, no. There are types of intelligence and there are always variables that affect outcomes. So I would say the quote is a rule of thumb, not an absolute. There is enough data to suggest trending toward intelligent people being unhappy. It has to do with logic, pragmatism, conceptual relativism and other concepts both in and out of the purview of philosophy and philosophical thought. In the most common, if not colloquial sense, though, unhappy intelligent people are more fact-based in their ideation. There is, as such, a condition known as Depressive Realism, where seeking the truth of things–including ugly things–can cause hopefulness and positivity to wane when it becomes apparent that survival is indeed hard, people are indeed cruel and evil, and life is indeed unfair. It’s about rejecting the cognitive dissonance of optimism in the face of negative data.1

The human brain understands the world through patterns. When a new experience appears, the brain wants to match it with a previous experience in order to understand it. Paradoxically, that’s why there is a pervasive belief in society that creative and/or intelligent people are at least partially mentally ill. The pattern does, indeed, exist. But it can just as easily be based on a chicken-or-the-egg paradigm as any other. Does creativity come first, and then depression? Do depression-oriented people seek creative expression? Do intelligent people tend toward a need for creative expression? Clearly, creative people need expression of that creative impulse, they are compelled to communicate it. They also crave freedom and the leeway to think out of the box. Business people with regular white collar jobs, tend toward logic and pragmatism, and have to punch a clock and strive to fit in. This flies in the face of a creative psyche, and so more creative people are drawn to artistic endeavor than more sterile, clinical, restrictive lifestyles in the mainstream. So it might not be that artists are depressed, so much as depressed people fare better in the arts.

The newest research in this regard points to this connection being myth. However, perhaps it is a question of semantics. Which type of intelligence are we referring to? Creative intelligence? Spatial intelligence? Emotional intelligence? Since there are also a great number of divisions in the intellectual paradigm, it becomes a bit convoluted when making an emphatic statement one way or another. For instance, historically, we have known that prolific and gifted writers, artists and musicians have a tendency to self-destruct, either through escapism behaviors like drug use and alcoholism, or, tragically, through suicide. (And this is rather frightening, considering I am an artist, writer, and singer-songwriter. But i think i dodged that bullet pretty well). Many have sought these counter-productive coping mechanisms due to some aspect of being overwhelmed. Whether the “overwhelmedness” is due to the aspects of creative processes, or the realism that reveals ugly truths, is debatable. I think if you have a combination of realism and sensitivity, which usually goes hand in hand with highly creative individuals, you have a Molotov Cocktail of potential destruction. If you know how ugly things are, how unfair, and you are also very sensitive, this can lead to the inability to cope in a healthy way. The burden becomes too great.
Additionally, creative individuals are often alone, since acts of creation generally take place in isolation, so loneliness is a feature within the social psychology of the paradigm. And new research published in the online journal Genome Biology has shown that loneliness can actually make you ill.2 In research of 20,000 genes of both lonely and nonlonely people, the chronically lonely individuals showed 209 changes that resulted in immune changes, inflammation and adversely affected response to infection.

In relation to intelligence, it can be surmised that individuals with high IQ experience a type of ostracization from society, in that they don’t feel like a “normal” person. This can lead to depression, since feeling different and misunderstood can become a divisive aspect between an intelligent person and the less intelligent majority. Intelligent people also ruminate more, and analyze information more, so that it becomes easy to impose feelings of isolation on every situation and interaction. If you combine the conditions of being both highly intelligent and highly creative, the potion becomes a catalyst for depression on a larger scale.

Critics of this correlation among intelligence, creativity and depression will say that studies done have been largely retroactive in that they diagnose well-known creative people of antiquity after the fact. And yet, we understand so much more about symptomatology in the psychological vein than we did when those creative and intelligent people were alive. There is some merit in applying new understanding to the previously misunderstood.

While there are exceptions to the rule, such as intelligent creative people who ARE happy, this condition is ameliorated, in my understanding, by some other coping mechanism; usually, in the form of some voluntary belief system that allows the creative and intelligent individual to ignore the farther reaches of edification–those that would suggest more reason for unhappiness. As a coping mechanism, this is usually very effective, though it could not be characterized as completely entrenched in stark reality. Thus, the individuals who can live behind the cloak of voluntary self-deception are at once more capable of maintaining contentedness. And often, their ability to do so is predicated on the lack of biochemical imbalance that makes positive mindset difficult if not impossible. Yet, there will always be those who cannot accept this postulate, simply because they are not able to experience it. Those who do experience it, will be the ones who have to accept the melancholy that comes with the package: intelligence, creativity, and the propensity, genetic or otherwise, for depression. These individuals might also be unable to reach that rose-colored-glasses posture, no matter how much they would prefer it to be otherwise. This is the quagmire of what is commonly termed Intellectual Honesty. The truth hurts, and some individuals will always be able to choose that mitigation over the often harsh verities of existence.
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1this concept is addressed partly in one of my current books “Supernatural Hypocrisy: The Cognitive Dissonance of a God Cosmology” Videos on that blog.
2 http://discovermagazine.com/2008/jan/why-loneliness-is-bad-for-you

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December 20th, 2011 authors, creativity, HSP, Psychology, relationships, Sensory Processing Sensitivity No Comments »

Why not Me?

Pulitzer and Nobel Prize-winning author, Pearl S. Buck  said,

“A human creature born abnormally, inhumanely sensitive. To them… a touch is a blow, a sound is a noise, a misfortune is a tragedy, a joy is an ecstasy, a friend is a lover, a lover is a god, and failure is death. Add to this cruelly delicate organism the overpowering necessity to create, create, create~ so that without the creating of music or poetry or books or buildings or something of meaning, their very breath is cut off…They must create, must pour out creation. By some strange, unknown, inward urgency they are not really alive unless they are creating.”

And we now know Buck was an HSP – A Highly Sensitive Person, as it is colloquially called by the pioneer in this research, Dr. Elaine Aron, PhD. Perhaps ironically, HSPs also have the ability to be more adaptable than the average person, if for no other reason than we HAVE to be to survive, and I suspect that the HSPs who aren’t able to, for whatever reason, end up being overwhelmed to the point where they can descend into isolation or even suicide. Especially if they have little support from friends or family.

But HSPs are uniquely qualified to problem-solve. They have a unique brain architecture known in the literature as Sensory Processing Sensitivity. There is a difference in what they feel, as opposed to most others in our society. If two people are being poked in the leg, and one is an HSP and one is not, the one who is not HSP will interpret that as a finger poking them, the HSP might interpret this as an ice pick. So while they might be feeling more pain, they are also more motivated to make it stop, and because HSPs tend to be analytical and creative problem solvers, they are the ones most likely to find the solution.

With the Holiday coming up this weekend, I’m having to deal with many of my least-favorite things. No, I’m not talking about shopping or relatives. I’m not doing either. I’m talking about that dreadful set of decisions I have to make, which I not only want to avoid, but wish I could just sleep through.

I am in that mode where I’m fighting off depression and sadness because the holidays are always a source of pain for me. I can’t even recall the last time I had one I enjoyed, and most of them, I’ve spent alone. It’s made worse when I look around me and so many other people I know are all glowing and happy because they have someone who loves and wants them…it makes me feel sad. I’m happy for THEM, but sad for me, because I don’t have that, and haven’t, for a very long time. Even worse, is when one of those happy people is someone you recently fell for, and they didn’t fall for you, but then went immediately into another relationship and DID fall for the other person; and you watch as they say things about that other person you only wanted them to say about you, and they post happy pictures and remove the ones that had you in them. I want to be happy for them, and I am, but it always comes with a sadness. Why couldn’t it have been me? Why can’t I ever find love? And then the tears come, and the scar on my heart gets opened up again, and I sit and bleed…wondering when I’ll find a spark of hope or inspiration again.

So it’s helpful if I can be social with the friends I do have during the holiday season, since I don’t have any family, but it’s often difficult to catch them on holidays, because they have families and established friends to do that with, and I still don’t know that many people here. I’m not going to be on the list of first chosen to spend time with. Am I having a pity party? Hell yes. I feel pitiful. It feels unfair. And I’m once again feeling terrible about it all. Thanks to the wretched holiday season.

Here’s the crux of my dilemma. As an HSP, my Sensory Processing Sensitivity means I’m easily overwhelmed and stressed by certain situations. Some of those are chaos, loud noise and too many different types of noises, crowds of strangers, all crammed together in a small space, driving and parking downtown, drunk people. Now, tell me, doesn’t that sound like your average holiday party at a pub? So I am always forced into this awkward position: I don’t want to disappoint any friend I might have who invited me, but I also don’t want to put myself through it, especially since the holidays are already really difficult for me. And sometimes being among drunk strangers just makes me feel more alone (and there’s the added insult that they are all straight people, and I’m gay–another source for feeling like an outcast–why would I want to pal around with a bunch of drunk straight men? Especially when they’re usually putting their hands all over me–or trying. I have had moments when they run the risk of pulling back a stump).  And then, there’s also the parking issue. The last two times I went downtown to socialize, I got two tickets and also got my car towed (and of course this was after I had to spend 300$ on a brake job–so 550$ later, I’m aware of my aversion to going downtown). Driving downtown is also very stressful to me because there’s too much information pelting my senses–

Turn here? [looking at GPS on iPhone]…oops BRAKE LIGHTS!  Nearly rammed someone…Crap! I need my reading glasses because I’m wearing my contacts…what’s that sign say? I can’t read it! oh, take off my reading glasses…. my hands are shaking…oops, I should have turned there…I’ll turn here OH MY GOD THAT’S A ONE-WAY STREET….[backing up]…STOP HONKING AT ME! I CAN’T have an accident….I finally get a decent vehicle and if I have a wreck, I’ll be so upset…I smell something burning…I hope it’s not something under my hood….SAME FINGER TO YOU BUDDY!….plus worrying about paying for it, and being trapped with no transportation….that screaming Serpentine-belt I need to get fixed…so embarrassing when someone hears it, need to get that fixed, but it’s going to be a couple hundred dollars to do…the noise of it is so irritating…is this where I turn? fuck!  I nearly ran over someone on the cross walk…STOP HONKING AT ME!! Did I bring my wallet? What if I have to park in the street? Do I even have change? DO I NEED CHANGE? Stop Honking at me!!

Welcome to my head. That’s a mild version, too. And only about a minute of time in that experience, but it’s what my head is doing.

Now, compare that to a low-impact or pleasant sensory experience….

Wow…the snow is so pretty and there’s so many trees….know where I’m going…it’s three blocks down on Vance, turn right  then into the free parking area. Got a good space up front….walking into the shopping district…it’s so clean, here… the air smells clean, too…yum, this Juicy Fruit gum smells and tastes so good….it feels good to walk, the rhythm of it is soothing to me…I love all the holiday lights strung on everything here…people look happy, walking along…my life is good….I smell barbeque…and popcorn…mmmm……now I’m hungry, but this place has really good food too, so I’ll just order something delicious….the theater is right there…maybe we could catch a movie matinee tomorrow…oh, that’s my favorite Xmas song…..[singing] “have yourself….a merry little christmas….” just around the corner, my friend waits and we’ll have a drink and conversation, and enjoy our connection…maybe we can sit in front of that fireplace…I love fireplaces…so cozy…I love it when she laughs and smiles…she’s a good friend, I feel lucky to have her in my life…this time, I will hug her and not let go first….I’ll just have a nice relaxing drink or two…if we’re there a while, and I drink more than two drinks, I can just walk home…this is my neighborhood, and it’s familiar and safe…what a beautiful night it is tonight….

See the difference? Having that sensory sensitivity might be bad sometimes, but it can also be extremely pleasant other times. That’s why HSPs are generally highly creative, and spend a good deal of time doing creative things–music, writing, art–all three of which I ACTUALLY DO. And HSPs also need to have some control over their environment and their schedules and their social lives., so that they can create a balance of sensory experience.

So, when I am invited into chaos, I always try to make alternate plans so I can see the people I DO know and care about; but they don’t always want to sit in a quieter place and have a cocktail and talk . I guess I really am odd, because that’s one of my favorite things to do. I want to connect with those I care about or am interested in getting to know. Can’t do that in a loud bar where you have to shout at each other, or when the goal is to get hammered.  And by the time I even GET to that location I’m stressed out. Then I can’t have more than two drinks, because I have to drive home, and I just DON’T drink and drive.  And just when I needed a drink the most. Not to mention I’m really nervous because I know that a lot of people DO DRINK AND DRIVE and I’m afraid one of them will hit me.  Call me a party-pooper, but it’s just not the sort of interaction I enjoy. Some HSPs can handle it better because they’re Extroverted HSPs. For the most part, I am an Introverted HSP. I love interaction like conversation and communion in a soothing atmosphere, watching movies, playing a game…but the more chaos and the less control I have, the more stressful it becomes for me. And I’m so weary of having to explain it, and so tired of being made to feel guilty for being who I am. Is it any wonder that it’s easy to become isolated? Or depressed? Is it any wonder why I question the reason for my existence?

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November 29th, 2011 HSP, Psychology, relationships, Sensory Processing Sensitivity No Comments »

Letter to a Battered Heart

Open letter to a friend whose heart is battered….

I remember that you were there for me when I was going through a lot and had no one. So I will do my best to be here for you, now.

In this life, you have to separate your mental and emotional things, your habits, your beliefs–like laundry. Whites over there, colors over there, delicates there. You can’t throw them all in together or the colors will bleed and what was once pure and white is now sullied. Some things must be kept apart, some things put together, and you always have to cleanse them on the proper cycle and temperature.

My first concern is how you can miss someone who treated you so badly. What do you miss? Missing someone implies that there were good things big enough to erase the bad things, and from what I know of her, there was little that could be strong enough to erase the damage she did to you physically, and emotionally, the betrayal she brought. What is this power she has? Please bottle it for me, it might come in handy. ;0)

You say your biggest fault is opening yourself up to everybody…that you give your all to anybody who needs help. And you just kind of shut down after being hurt so many times.

Well, Honey, I have been hurt a lot too…but look, here’s the deal…Since moving here, I found that I didn’t initially spend much time looking for a quality circle of friends. I’m looking for that, now, yes. (And I believe I have a few). And I’m looking for someone to date regularly, yes, even if it’s not serious, and just companionship and affection. But ultimately, I want a life partner. I don’t do well single. I like having my person to talk to everyday, to share those moments with, to nurture and support and have that returned, for once. I’ve been primarily single for 7 years, with short interruptions of heart-wrenching sadness and betrayal. So I get how that feels. But I won’t let it steal any potential happiness, because life is short. I just know that when you close a door to keep bad things out, you also block the good things from coming in.  I don’t want to be that person.

You say you have tried so hard to open yourself up but feel you are so weird about that. You are terrified of feeling that hurt again. You speak of how your ex was the first person you ever truly opened up to…and you wonder for what? To be hurt?
You’ll never be able to open yourself up until you feel safe. So you don’t feel safe yet. That’s okay. I just hope you won’t close off so much you miss the good ones that might be out there…I know what you mean about the hurt. I felt that way the first time I got my heart broken. (And there have been plenty of other heartbreaks along the way).  But that first one was the worst. I thought I wouldn’t survive. I began to feel hatred for all women, unfairly applying a blanket pre-judgment to every person of the female gender. But luckily, during my darkest hour,  there was this cutie who thought I hung the moon, and she was right there waiting to pick up the pieces by telling me how wonderful I was, that I was her dream woman, and then it didn’t hurt so bad. I could see things in a different light. I realized I DID deserve to be loved and treated with respect and kindness, even though I had just been given an overwhelming example that I didn’t. Even if there are plenty of people out there who are willing to savage your heart, there are good ones too, they’re just fewer and farther between. Believe me, I have lost hope and then tried again over and over. You’ll see that if you have kept up with my blogs ;^)

I’m not sure what it is that keeps me trying. Maybe just that I know myself, know what I want and need, and know that I won’t ever be completely happy until I find that other person who will show me love again. But I won’t settle.  I’ve learned that I’m capable of being blinded by that need and I can’t let it control me. But I know it’s there and it’s strong, and all I can do is keep putting one foot in front of the other and surrounding myself with as many good people and purposeful things as I can.

If you believe that every woman hurts more than she loves, then that means that everyone is bad. And I hope you don’t believe that. You are just sensitive. You feel everything all the way to the bone, as do I. You’ll have to learn some coping skills or this world and the people in it, will destroy everything good in YOU. So, I’ll be your friend.

I know you will, you said,  and part of that scares me….. You said that you were used to proving yourself to women…But you don’t have to prove yourself, just BE yourself. Yet you feel that who you are isn’t enough, and I would ask you– do you LIKE who you are? You say as a lesbian, Hell yes!! but internally…It’s an ongoing battle.  In your eyes, you say, Women are evil…They hurt more than they love...

Lesbians are defined as women who love women. You hate them. Maybe you’re not a lesbian. LOL. I’m just kidding. But really, what about being a lesbian do you LIKE? And then, what inside you is the battle about? What are you fighting? The need to protect your heart at all costs?

Yes…you say.  It is my heart I am protecting… I LOVE everything about a woman!!!

Well it’s your heart, and you have a right to protect it. But protecting it doesn’t necessarily mean hiding it…so your biggest obstacle is fear.

Boy, do I understand that. I have moments when I think I’m just afraid of everything. And then, when push comes to shove, I somehow manage to survive. It’s all those horrible moments of fear that taught me more about myself, and the strength I have inside. We can’t know light without darkness. We can’t understand pain without joy. And we can’t have love without anger.  There truly is a yin and yang to the universe.

One of the most poignant and pivotal moments of that learning about myself came when I moved here…you might recall what I went through to make it happen–many days of hard labor and stress and obstacles, and then 30 hours on the road, and then when I got to the end of that journey, driving into Denver, overwhelmed, exhausted, and irretrievably LOST, I panicked. I came apart at the seams. And there was no one to help me. And in that moment I made a decision. I realized I simply had no choice. I had to find a way to get back on track and find this place I was about to call home. And I did it. Tearfully, shaking, and near insane. But I did it. And because of that, I know that no matter how lost I am, how hurt, or exhausted, I really can find a solution, because inside me is an inner core of strength. You have that, too, my friend. Maybe you just don’t know it yet.

You say,  Every part of me wants what you speak of, what so many others want…

I know. And fear can be powerful. It’s even more so with highly sensitive people. And perhaps, as you say, you are the most highly sensitive person I will ever know.  Maybe so. All the more reason to launch a mission to find some ways to cope, so that you can be happy and fulfilled. You shouldn’t have to say no to yourself and what you really need.You don’t have to. But it IS a process. I know you know that, but you think it’s hard to find a woman willing to work through your “demons”.

Most people don’t have that kind of patience, it’s true. Our society has trained us in recent years to rush through everything. I’m guilty of it sometimes too. But  first, you have to feel safe. And I see you arranging your life into little walls of safety. Boundaries of okayness…but it’s important to be able to discern what is safety, and what is hiding. I think you hide, mostly…and I guess my wish for you is that you can learn to feel safe without hiding.

This song speaks to that in a most poignant and profound way…

 

I\’ll Try — Jonatha Brooke

listen to it…

I did, and just made myself cry. That song just screamed in my head to play it for you.

You say, I’m not ready to give someone my all. That’s okay.  But realize that dating isn’t ALL. It’s just dating. Personally, I wouldn’t want to get serious with anyone who gave me her all, upfront. But no, you say, I’m not quite ready to give myself up again… A healthy relationship doesn’t require that you give yourself up, either. You answer, You don’t think?  I beg to differ…. But you should never have to lose yourself, is what I mean. It should mesh naturally. But you think you have to be willing to give your all. And I tell you,  that’s not something you decide on the front-end. There’s time, and you should be allowed that time to know what you feel, and why you feel it. You are under no obligation to jump into the deep end of the pool, especially after you nearly drowned the last time.

But you’re guarded right now. I can see that. I was hoping you weren’t, since you said you’d worked through it. Maybe you still have work to do? Maybe this is the lie you tell yourself. You still say it’s an ongoing battle…but I’m not sure it has to be. Yet, you can only do what you can do.

Okay, Jae, you tell me, I DO hide. More than I like to admit!!!! I do not ever want to feel the hurt I felt when she left me…

I know, Honey. I have felt that way too. There are few things feel worse than that. When T. left me, it was like she reached into my chest, yanked my heart out and tossed it on the floor, still beating, still bleeding. Here’s one of the songs I wrote about that…see if it speaks to you.

 

The Fall — Jae Baeli

 

…so I know what you feel. And I know how powerful it can be.

But you can get back up again. One foot in front of the other. Keep passing the open windows…

…and I’m here to jerk you back if I see you put your foot on the sill.

 

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November 7th, 2011 Arts, creativity, Highly Sensitive Person, HSP, Kelli Jae Baeli, Philosophy, Psychology, Sensory Processing Sensitivity 1 Comment »

Too Much World: A Look at Highly Sensitive People

In an article in Psychology Today,* I again found comfort in the knowledge that there are others like me out there, and my particular brand of weirdness is not “damage” but an inherent brain architecture I am born with. Just like others are born with blue eyes or musical ability.
I speak of those in our species who live with Sensory Processing Sensitivity, which is the scientific term for this trait. More colloquially, it is known as HSP- Highly Sensitive Person, a collection of traits that was identified in pioneering research by Elaine Aron, PhD.
Regarding the nature of HSP’s, Aron tells us:
  • Your trait is normal. It is found in 15 to 20% of the population–too many to be a disorder, but not enough to be well understood by the majority of those around you.
  • It is innate. In fact, biologists have found it to be in most or all animals, from fruit flies and fish to dogs, cats, horses, and primates. This trait reflects a certain type of survival strategy, being observant before acting. The brains of highly sensitive persons (HSPs) actually work a little differently than others’.
  • You are more aware than others of subtleties. This is mainly because your brain processes information and reflects on it more deeply. So even if you wear glasses, for example, you see more than others by noticing more.
  • You are also more easily overwhelmed. If you notice everything, you are naturally going to be overstimulated when things are too intense, complex, chaotic, or novel for a long time.
  • This trait is not a new discovery, but it has been misunderstood. Because HSPs prefer to look before entering new situations, they are often called “shy.” But shyness is learned, not innate. In fact, 30% of HSPs are extraverts, although the trait is often mislabeled as introversion. It has also been called inhibitedness, fearfulness, or neuroticism. Some HSPs behave in these ways, but it is not innate to do so and not the basic trait.
  • Sensitivity is valued differently in different cultures. In cultures where it is not valued, HSPs tend to have low self-esteem. They are told “don’t be so sensitive” so that they feel abnormal.
So each time I find an article about it, I read it with hunger, because it serves to validate me as a worthy human being with special skills that are often misunderstood, but are also responsible for providing the world with some of the greatest, art, music and writing we have ever known. It tends to concentrate itself in creative people, or perhaps more accurately, creative people are more often than not, HSP’s.
In regard toWhy it�s hard to be a highly sensitive (HSP) introvert then, I felt I could have actually written this article–meaning, the author echoes so many of the particular idiosyncratic things about myself that are so hard to explain to others. Some of my reactions are not quite as extreme, but this has only been true in the last ten years, since finding a balance in certain areas; but overall, she describes ME in this article. Like:

“As a highly sensitive person who needs to minimize auditory stimuli, I don’t do well when another person likes having TV or loud music on all the time as background noise. I’m extremely sensitive to other people’s moods; when someone is angry, judgmental or irritated, those emotions come through my skin and into my cells, making me even more uncomfortable. Worst of all, if I don’t have my own space to retreat to and recharge, I’ll eventually have a meltdown.”

I recall one incident at my best friend’s house where I was trying so hard to hear the TV over the other stimuli in the room. My friend was talking on the phone, her ancient, diapered, toothless poodle was walking back and forth in front of me making a smack smack smack nose along with a sound that was like hoo-hoo followed by some grunt one would normally only hear an old man with dementia. Perhaps ironically, I kept turning the TV up louder because I couldn’t understand what was being said in the program I was watching. I even drew a cartoon of this event, and gave it to my friend, which to this day, she laughs about.
The reason for this is, as an HSP, I have a hard time filtering out stimuli. I hear all the sounds at once. For me, this tends to blend into one droning dirge that becomes some version of auditory torture.  Add to that the other senses of sight, smell, tactility, and include being empathic and sensing the emotions of others, and it’s a cocktail for that meltdown she mentions. Dr. Biali continues,

“As an introvert, being around other people drains me (as opposed to extraverts, who gain energy being around other people). That doesn’t mean I don’t like being with others, in fact I love it – but I can only do it for so long before I have to go into my cave and refuel.”

I am this way as well, but it does depend primarily on who those people are. If they are people I know well, who aren’t energy-vampires, then I absolutely ADORE being with them. But even so, I do need recovery time after a highly social event. It’s a precarious and delicate balance and I have had to learn to read myself well, and know when it’s time for me to make my exit, curl up on the sofa in front of the fireplace with a book or magazine, or watch TV. I don’t necessarily have to have silence to recharge. I just have to have control over the content and do something that relaxes me. Often, the best thing for me is to watch a program I enjoy, or journal or paint a picture, or get out the clay and sculpt something.
Biali also nails it with her comments about phones….

“I don’t like being on the phone. The only exception is talking to my husband while we’re apart, or someone else who I’m so similar to that there’s an effortless endless flow of conversation. I dislike awkward silences or pressure to come up with fascinating conversation topics, even with people I know well…What they don’t realize is that I really don’t call almost anyone “just to chat”, unless I have a specific reason that I need to to talk to them – it’s not personal, and I keep asking Armando to explain that to them! Email and Facebook are completely different, I love to communicate that way…”

I can talk for hours with my best friend, but she knows me so well and our conversations are effortless and they flow and they are full of interesting and entertaining things. I do, however always have to have a headset or Bluetooth, because I can’t bear the sensation of being trapped by the phone. It took a while for me to realize that part of my problem with being on the phone was because it was usually plugged into a wall, and I didn’t have my hands free, either, and couldn’t move around. Now, with cell phones, and headsets and blue tooth, I can clean house, or go refill coffee or whatever, while talking, so I don’t feel trapped. I also prefer emails and Facebook and texts most of the time, because I have complete control over that, and it’s not a demand, like a ringing phone can be. Though my first choice will always be a one-on-one interaction with someone whose company I enjoy.Curiously, I am also weird about knocks on the door, or the doorbell. I actually have a stress-response to that, to include a pounding heart and a little trouble breathing, because it’s a sudden, unexpected sound. And it also represents a demand; someone trying to get in, and I don’t know who at that moment…and I have tragic fantasies about it being a robber or a rapist. This is why (since i live alone) I always answer the door with my gun behind my back, if I don’t know the person knocking or ringing.

“As an HSP, I also pick up all kinds of subtleties in people’s voices or comments that make me uncomfortable if they have personal (negative) significance. This intuitive sensitivity works really well when I work as a personal coach over the phone, as I’m able to pick up what’s behind a client’s words and use it to unblock them or help them move forward, but in personal conversations it can be too much information.”

I have the same experience, here, as well. I prefer one-on-one communication, because I have a better chance of picking up on body language and visual cues, so that it’s easier to discern meaning accurately. And even then, if I sense any negativity directed at me, personally, it can feel very much like a wound. That old childhood chant, “Sticks and stones will break my bones, but words will never harm me” just simply isn’t true for me as an HSP. Words do just as much harm to me as a physical assault.

In an article by Dr. Aron, she quotes Pearl S. Buck, the first American woman to win the Nobel Prize in Literature, on the creative mind. I believe that Buck was, herself, an HSP, which is easily seen by her understanding of how we think and feel:

“The truly creative mind in any field is no more than this: A human creature born abnormally, inhumanely sensitive. To them… a touch is a blow, a sound is a noise, a misfortune is a tragedy, a joy is an ecstasy, a friend is a lover, a lover is a god, and failure is death. Add to this cruelly delicate organism the overpowering necessity to create, create, create — so that without the creating of music or poetry or books or buildings or something of meaning, their very breath is cut off…They must create, must pour out creation. By some strange, unknown, inward urgency they are not really alive unless they are creating.”

That is the very quintessence of what it’s like to be an HSP. There will, of course, be variants within any group, because humans are highly individual and influenced by their surroundings and experiences and various other biological and genetic precursors and tendencies, but overall, I feel it is a trait that can be identified quite readily.I believe also, that many, of not most, of the greatest, most influential creative minds throughout history, have been HSP’s. It would explain the propensity toward depression, isolation, oddness but also their ability to zero in on the subtleties of our existence, and create artful representations of what they see and feel below the surface of things. Those creative people for whom we have personal detail are often the ones who could be identified retrospectively as HSP’s. Before I knew about this particular trait, I wrote an article which I posted on this blog, that touches on many of these correlations, called Intelligence, Creativity & Depressive Realism.

The list of notable and historical HSP’s is impressive, and it does tend to draw the highly sensitive people out of the ranks of oddity, and into the light of human contribution. People like:

Steven Spielberg, Dalai Lama, Harry S. Truman, Martin Luther King, Leonardo Da Vinci, Vincent Van Gogh, Salvador Dali, Georgia O’Keefe, John Coltrane,  Beethoven, Mozart, Morrissey, Tori Amos, Bjork, Jewel, Alanis Morissette, Leonard Cohen,  Kurt Cobain, Michael Stipe, Chris Isaak, Neil Finn, John Lennon, Sir Thomas Moore, E.E. Cummings, Hermann Hesse, Sylvia Plath, Anne Sexton, Allen Ginsburg, Fyodor Dostoevsky, Edgar Allen Poe, Ralph Waldo Emerson, Emily Dickinson, Woody Allen, Judy Garland, Jim Carey, Mira Sorvino, Adrien Brody, Melanie Griffith, Kim Basinger, Anthony Hopkins, Drew Barrymore, Glenn Close, Mr. Rogers, Andy Kaufman, Jon Favreau, Greta Garbo, Joaquin Phoenix, Elijah Wood, Kevin Kline, David Hyde Pierce, Anton Chekhov, James Baldwin, Kahlil Gibran, DH Lawrence, Henry David Thoreau, Robert Frost, Walt Whitman, Tennessee Williams, Janis Joplin, Billie Holliday, Moby, Natalie Merchant, Bob Dylan, Franz Kafka, Deepak Chopra, Marianne Williamson, Sarah McLaughlin, Celine Dion, Enya, Neil Young, Janis Ian, Picasso, Einstein, Abraham Lincoln, Franklin D. Roosevelt, Eleanor Roosevelt….
With only a partial list like that, it’s easy to see the contributions that HSP’s have made in this world. And thus, more difficult to dismiss them as different, introverted, eccentric, crazy, or in the pejorative sense, too sensitive. Being an unwitting HSP is most likely the cause of many tragic stories in the creative community, and I believe that many of those creatives who escape through drugs and alcohol and extreme behavior, or who attempt or commit suicide are probably HSP’s, simply because they can be so easily overwhelmed, and without healthy coping skills to live in this world, it becomes too much for them.

I have a foot in many creative things. I am an author (I write in 14 genres, but love writing books, and have authored 24 of them to date), an artist (painting, sculpting, pottery, mixed media, photography ), singer-songwriter (over 200 songwriting credits and formerly co-founder and member of two bands). If being HSP means expressing myself creatively, I am definitely a prime example. But long ago, I realized that  this world would kill me, if I didn’t figure out how to exist here within the parameters of who I am. In my younger years, I tested almost exclusively right-brain dominate. So I developed my left-brain over many years, and even elevated my IQ. (For a long time it was believed that you are born with a certain IQ and it couldn’t be changed, but now, with all the research into the neuroplasticity of the brain, we know that intelligence can indeed be increased. I took myself from a 120 IQ to 149). I learned about philosophy and logic and disjunctive reasoning, so that today, I test whole-brain. And I think it’s what saved me. This did not suffocate my creativity, however. In fact, it served to inform and expand this area. But it comes with its own sets of issues. For instance, I can feel one way emotionally, but also feel another way intellectually.  While this can often be a battle of wills inside my mind, and make me feel I have two personalities, overall, it serves to temper me; it offers me some balance that keeps me from falling into the sensitivity void.  It didn’t make me any less of an HSP. It just allowed me to survive. It’s still a challenge to be who I am. As I have said before, Am I too much for the world, or is the world too much for me?

 *If you think you might be an HSP, take the self-test to find out.
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[1] Why it�s hard to be a highly sensitive (HSP) introvert. Highly sensitive (HSP) introverts – misperceived by a noisy extraverted world. Published on August 23, 2010 by Dr. Susan Biali, M.D. in Prescriptions for Life

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September 15th, 2011 creativity, Highly Sensitive Person, HSP, Psychology No Comments »

Creativity, Intelligence & Depressive Realism

 From a Facebook post i made, a thought-provoking subject emerged.

 Jae Baeli : “Happiness in intelligent people is the rarest thing I know.” ~ Ernest Hemingway

Tina Harada likes this.

Amanda Gulledge
I frowned when I read that so I would feel more intelligent.

Candace Lynn Breaux
Is that why I am unhappy so much of the time? LOL

Jae Baeli
LOL. Amanda–you crack me up.Candy–probably, yes.

Victoria Bard
love it…so true!

Sandi Partee
hmmm…so does that mean I’m not intelligent? Cause I’m happy as a lark! LOL!

I understand Sandi’s reply was meant lightly, but let me just address the topic of Intelligence and Happiness…

I don’t think the two are mutually exclusive, no. There are types of intelligence and there are always variables that affect outcomes. So I would say the quote is a rule of thumb, not an absolute. There is enough data to suggest trending toward intelligent people being unhappy. It has to do with logic, pragmatism, conceptual relativism and other concepts both in and out of the purview of philosophy and philosophical thought. In the most common, if not colloquial sense, though, unhappy intelligent people are more fact-based in their ideation. There is, as such, a condition known as Depressive Realism, where seeking the truth of things–including ugly things–can cause hopefulness and positivity to wane when it becomes apparent that survival is indeed hard, people are indeed cruel and evil, and life is indeed unfair. It’s about rejecting the cognitive dissonance of optimism in the face of negative data.1

The human brain understands the world through patterns. When a new experience appears, the brain wants to match it with a previous experience in order to understand it. Paradoxically, that’s why there is a pervasive belief in society that creative and/or intelligent people are at least partially mentally ill. The pattern does, indeed, exist. But it can just as easily be based on a chicken-or-the-egg paradigm as any other. Does creativity come first, and then depression? Do depression-oriented people seek creative expression? Do intelligent people tend toward a need for creative expression? Clearly, creative people need expression of that creative impulse, they are compelled to communicate it. They also crave freedom and the leeway to think out of the box. Business people with regular white collar jobs, tend toward logic and pragmatism, and have to punch a clock and strive to fit in. This flies in the face of a creative psyche, and so more creative people are drawn to artistic endeavor than more sterile, clinical, restrictive lifestyles in the mainstream. So it might not be that artists are depressed, so much as depressed people fare better in the arts.

The newest research in this regard points to this connection being myth. However, perhaps it is a question of semantics. Which type of intelligence are we referring to? Creative intelligence? Spatial intelligence? Emotional intelligence? Since there are also a great number of divisions in the intellectual paradigm, it becomes a bit convoluted when making an emphatic statement one way or another. For instance, historically, we have known that prolific and gifted writers, artists and musicians have a tendency to self-destruct, either through escapism behaviors like drug use and alcoholism, or, tragically, through suicide. (And this is rather frightening, considering I am an artist, writer, and singer-songwriter. But i think i dodged that bullet pretty well). Many have sought these counter-productive coping mechanisms due to some aspect of being overwhelmed. Whether the “overwhelmedness” is due to the aspects of creative processes, or the realism that reveals ugly truths, is debatable. I think if you have a combination of realism and sensitivity, which usually goes hand in hand with highly creative individuals, you have a Molotov Cocktail of potential destruction. If you know how ugly things are, how unfair, and you are also very sensitive, this can lead to the inability to cope in a healthy way. The burden becomes too great.
Additionally, creative individuals are often alone, since acts of creation generally take place in isolation, so loneliness is a feature within the social psychology of the paradigm. And new research published in the online journal Genome Biology has shown that loneliness can actually make you ill.2  In research of 20,000 genes of both lonely and nonlonely people, the chronically lonely individuals showed 209 changes that resulted in immune changes, inflammation and adversely affected response to infection.

In relation to intelligence, it can be surmised that individuals with high IQ experience a type of ostracization from society, in that they don’t feel like a “normal” person. This can lead to depression, since feeling different and misunderstood can become a divisive aspect between an intelligent person and the less intelligent majority. Intelligent people also ruminate more, and analyze information more, so that it becomes easy to impose feelings of isolation on every situation and interaction. If you combine the conditions of being both highly intelligent and highly creative, the potion becomes a catalyst for depression on a larger scale.

Critics of this correlation among intelligence, creativity and depression will say that studies done  have been largely retroactive in that they diagnose well-known creative people of antiquity after the fact. And yet, we understand so much more about symptomatology in the psychological vein than we did when those creative and intelligent people were alive. There is some merit in applying new understanding to the previously misunderstood.

While there are exceptions to the rule, such as intelligent creative people who ARE happy, this condition is ameliorated, in my understanding, by some other coping mechanism; usually, in the form of some voluntary belief system that allows the creative and intelligent individual to ignore the farther reaches of edification–those that would suggest more reason for unhappiness. As a coping mechanism, this is usually very effective, though it could not be characterized as completely entrenched in stark reality. Thus, the individuals who can live behind the cloak of voluntary self-deception are at once more capable of maintaining contentedness. And often, their ability to do so is predicated on the lack of biochemical imbalance that makes positive mindset difficult if not impossible. Yet, there will always be those who cannot accept this postulate, simply because they are not able to experience it. Those who do experience it, will be the ones who have to accept the melancholy that comes with the package: intelligence, creativity, and the propensity, genetic or otherwise, for depression. These individuals might also be unable to reach that rose-colored-glasses posture, no matter how much they would prefer it to be otherwise. This is the quagmire of what is commonly termed Intellectual Honesty. The truth hurts, and some individuals will always be able to choose that mitigation over the often harsh verities of existence.
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1this concept is addressed partly in one of my current books “Supernatural Hypocrisy: The Cognitive Dissonance of a God Cosmology” Videos on that blog.
2 http://discovermagazine.com/2008/jan/why-loneliness-is-bad-for-you

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November 7th, 2009 HSP, Psychology No Comments »

Id, Ego, Super-Ego & the Social Security Number


I slept fitfully all night. A pervasive anxiety crept through me until I began to fidget with restless legs. A couple of times I woke up feeling like I couldn’t breathe. Like I was underwater and there was no surface in either direction. I didn’t know if I was up or down….I only knew I was going to drown. (Song Lyric alert).Lest anyone think me too self-possessed, I will admit that what tossed me and turned me was not the plotting problems of my newest novel, but plain old insecurity. I went to sleep thinking about the phone conversation I had just had with someone new–worrying about the impression I might have inadvertently made on her–someone I am to meet soon, maybe this weekend. So there you are. Dear Readers, Jae is hand-wringing, afraid she might not be perceived as good enough.

Until just recently, I had been isolated for an extended period, and aside from mostly talking to my longtime friends on the phone, most of my time was spent in my own head and my own creative process. Though I have become quite comfortable talking to my cats, and to myself, it’s not the same with other humans. It really is true, that when you become isolated too long, and everyone you talk to knows you like they know their own social security number, you UNlearn how to be with brand new people. And I for one, am having a “Number” done on me, about Social Security. And the beast who’s doing a number on me is a component of my psyche. The Id portion of my brain makes me say things I probably shouldn’t say, and the Super Ego eggs it on–I should start calling that the Super-EGGO.  And there’s my Ego, being squished between them, endeavoring to inject a little restraint to the Id. (leggo my Eggo!) 

I am astute enough to understand that since I have so rarely been able to SHARE myself in any genuine way, and have been without the comfort of companionship and the machinations of social activity and acceptance, that i am hungry. Hungry for communication, hungry for company, hungry for acceptance, acknowledgment, hungry to be touched and loved.  As Shakespeare said, “That way madness lies.” 
But at any rate, it then tortures me with those aforementioned “Social Security Numbers. ” Like the ones that came into my mind during and after the phone call: She was really tired when she called and she told you that. But you kept talking, didn’t you? You are too much for people. They think you’re arrogant, maybe even selfish. You shouldn’t have said all that stuff about rattling cages, and how much you like to do it. Do you have to say out loud every fucking thing that pops into your mind? No one cares! Now she thinks you’re a trouble maker and you will embarrass her in public. Why can’t you ever dial it back? No one wants to know your details. You can’t ever just sit there and smile and be mysterious? You will never make friends or find a partner or even a date, because you don’t know how to shut the fuck up.

That’s pretty much the monologue going on in my head. I’m paranoid that I have given an incorrect and incomplete impression of myself, because I’m so accustomed to talking to people who not only know me, but understand me–and more importantly, have shown they completely accept me. i don’t have to give them the backstory, because they already know it, and the assessments have been made, and I have been stamped ACCEPTED and invited on through the gate. 

But I can’t go at it like that with new people in my life. I’ll sabotage the whole thing. I get so excited to have people physically in my life again, that I overdo it. I try too hard to be worthy, and in so doing, and with irony, project unworthiness. Now, my Super-Ego starts spitting disgust at me that I am worthy and who gives a damn what anyone else thinks? And my Id laments that I will always be alone, and probably die that way. Where is my Ego? Maybe I need to start feeding that. There’s such a negative connotation to Ego. Most people don’t think of Freud’s definition. They think ego=arrogance, pride. I know that in general neurological terms, the Ego is the residence of defense mechanisms and cognitive functions like memory, reason, judgment, tolerance, self-control, information processing, defenses, and people skills. If you accept Freud’s model, then the Ego is the consciousness. The referee between the Id and the Super-Ego. 
Regardless, it all has its thick, dirty fingers around my throat.
It occurs to me that this problem should not have so much power to do damage. I mean, I survived and conquered being crippled, being  homeless and penniless, being friendless, familyless, and agoraphobic. And this little portion of my brain is going to take me down?Maybe.

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March 26th, 2008 Psychology No Comments »

I Don’t Keep Hoardly Anything

….Looking at the Hoard Mentality

Every so often, when I’m doing Spring cleaning, or having guests over I want to impress, I look around and think: Hark! I might be mental. I think I’m a hoarder. I’m reorganizing and cleaning, and everywhere I have things that need a place to go, and then I ask myself, why do I have so many things? I know it is my lack mentality. I did without, and was always broke my whole life, and so now it’s a habit to hang onto things just in case. Every time I had let go of something, I needed it later, and then I had to buy it, which cost more money that I needed for other things, which meant I would not have enough money to go around. . . So it’s more a Lack Mentality than a Hoard Mentality. Maybe I need to light a match and set it all on fire in the back yard. Then I’d get a ticket because of the burn ban, and that would cost MORE MONEY. Grr.

I’m not at all suggesting that my clutter is indicative of any real mental illness. I regularly go through things and take it to thrift stores, sell on eBay, or simply throw it away. And in the recent past, I did get on a kick of collecting odd, funny or unique cigarette lighters. Got rid of those after a while. I only need ONE after all. And then I accidentally started collecting sunglasses. It was easy because I only bought them at the dollar store, so they aren’t in any way interfering with my finances. And I like being able to choose among a collection of them depending on my needs and my mood. I still have about 20 pairs. If I break them, or scratch the lenses, I simply throw them away. Innocuous enough.

But there are many people who seriously have a problem with hoarding things. It could be papers, movies, trinkets, clothes, shoes…or even animals. I knew two women who lived together for many years, and their house was a labyrinth of “stuff”–hundreds of video tapes stored in shelves that lined the walls ceiling to floor, stacks of papers with an inch of dust on them, dirt, grime, and 5 large dogs that ran the house. They always had a roach and flea issue that was out of control.

I think there is some inherent security in this Stuff-Mongering. And I can see how animals would be one of the hardest things to let go of, even when you have way too many of them. They are living and breathing and you have some kind of benefit from them in company, love, and affection and even entertainment. I am frequently entertained by my two cats. But I’m really clear that I don’t need 20 of them. Even though I am fond of making jokes about myself in that regard–that I will probably end up that crazy old lady in the big house with all the cats. But I don’t really believe it will come to that. Not really. I’m way too stable in my psychology.

Contrarily, I know of someone in Texas who has 7 dogs, 2 parrots, 9 cats, 2 pot belly pigs, 17 tropical fish, and 13 Pygmy goats. While she does not yet have a partridge in a pear tree, she does speak of wanting a Fennec Fox, and is also in the market for a monkey. She does not live on a farm. And they don’t all live in her house. The goats are outside.

Now if this was a farm, I’d understand. But it’s not. She doesn’t milk the goats and they will not let her get near them. The parrots don’t talk, but they do screech a lot, and she has to keep them separated so one won’t snap off the toes of the other. (That happened twice already and the vet bill was staggering–as most of her vet bills are). The cats are not declawed because she believes that removing their claws is psychologically damaging to them–and thus, they destroy her furniture. She also doesn’t have them spayed because that’s also some kind of crime against nature. So her cat family continues to grow exponentially as one or two of them have kittens. She hasn’t been able to eat at her kitchen table in years, because the cats like to lounge there and it’s full of fur. The pot belly pigs have rooted holes in the carpeting under her bedroom door because they want to come in and sleep in the bed with her. But the cats get mad. So she makes the pigs stay outside the bedroom. Where they pee, because THEY are mad.

Her tropical fish require specialized water, tank and maintenance. The dogs sleep on the bed when they want, on the furniture, where they summarily dig holes, and often take a wizz on the furniture too, if they are “afraid” of guests, or “just marking their territory.” She doesn’t breed any of these animals to sell. They don’t produce anything in return for her trouble. Yet, she insists she could not live without them, and that she understands them as they do her, and she has this symbiotic and spiritual relationship with all of them. An erstwhile Dr. Doolittle sans medication.

All these animals occupy a grand majority of her time, interfere with her life, her plans, her autonomy, and her relationships. They cost her shocking amounts of money, and not only does she shell it out, but talks of buying more land for the goats, building huge playhouses for the dogs and cats. She has to get up at 3 every morning to get all the care and feeding taken care of before she drives to the Post Office to deliver mail for the day. Once when she had to go out of town for a funeral, it cost her $5000 to pay someone to take care of it all. Her neighbors call her home “The Ark.” And I’m sure they’re hoping for a heavy rain so she’ll float away with her self-imposed zoo.

Forgive my bluntness, but this woman is mentally ill. Not even on the precipice of mental illness. She has leaped with no parachute into the crazy void. And she wasn’t always that bad. It started small and then just continued over a period of years until it reached a point of complete and utter obsession and delusion. I believe it is the manifestation of a severe Obsessive Compulsive Disorder.

Healthy people who feel such an affinity with animals usually just become veterinarians, or animal breeders, or they have animals that in some way pay for themselves as in chickens who lay eggs, Parrots that sell for $500 to $1000 each, Llamas who can be shorn and their coat sold for various other products to be made. Sometimes people who have lots of animals live on farms and the animals are part of that process, but aren’t viewed as pets, except for the occasional dog or cat. This in no way describes those who collect animals for no apparent sensible reason. These collections are just money pits. Fer godssake, get rid of all those animals and get a job at the zoo! I understand feeling a connection to a certain animal, but do you need to have 17 fish and 33 non-water-bound animals to remain connected?

Now, I feel a connection with dolphins somehow, but I’m not gonna build a big aqua park in my back yard and buy some dolphins to put in it. I’ll just watch them on TV and say “Aren’t they pretty?” And maybe one day I’ll get to swim with one. But I won’t try to collect the dolphins. I did that once, years ago–not with REAL dolphins, but dolphin trinkets. It started with one or two and then word got around that I “liked dolphins” and then every birthday, Christmas or freakin’ Ground Hog day, I got another dolphin trinket. Then one day I was dusting that huge shelf of dolphin trinkets and I thought–why am I doing this? Why do I need all these? And it ended there. I sold some at a garage sale, and the rest I gave to thrift.

One of the pertinent questions to ask yourself, I believe, is Does this collection get in the way of actually living my life? Another question is, Do I USE this, or gain anything tangible from it, or just look at it? and another is, Do I have to spend extra money for space to store or keep these things?

In the case of those who tend to collect animals–notwithstanding those like Charles Darwin who are scientists, studying them–I think it must be some kind of coping mechanism gone awry–a live creature who loves you unconditionally, is sometimes easy to get addicted to, if you’re needy that way. And pets don’t demand that you look good, don’t care if you’re smart or a good conversationalist. Pets don’t care what you drive, what you wear, or if you’re naked. Or crazy. They are happy to have food and water and a little affection. It’s the simplest relationship to maintain. And also one that often leads to a degeneration in social skills and isolation.

I knew a woman who had several dogs, and several cats, and her house stank all the time of urine and feces, and there was always some present on the floor in the kitchen, and hair on the counters, and she could never go anywhere for any amount of time because she couldn’t stay away that long. The piddle pads would be full, you see. And inevitably, they missed the piddle pad. Then her carpet was ruined. She’d burn incense when guests (rarely) would come by. She never had a second date with anyone after they came to her home, because they never wanted to come to her house again.

Having too many pets is a way, quite often, for people to avoid having any real human relationships. If this is the case, then there is the obvious question, Why are you afraid to have real human relationships? And maybe another question is, What gaping void in your psyche are you trying to fill? I believe that most if not all of these types of people have a history of abuse, or abandonment. So their solution is to stock their existence with many beings who will do neither.

There is paltry research on those who hoard herds, flocks, clutches, gaggles, and schools of animals. But it’s an obvious problem when there are companies who can make a living cleaning up the chaos that is left behind when one of these people finally dies and is found amid the menagerie. Often, having been used as food by their beloved “pets.”

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February 18th, 2008 Psychology, relationships No Comments »

People Are Just M&M’s.

Once again, the exception proves the rule. People are just M&M’s.

They live in their delusion that they are different, but they are all the same except different colors of the same thing. Their taste remains constant, in spite of what the outside color may suggest. They might have a candy coating, but that’s just the lies they tell themselves and others; sometimes they are simply a NUT inside.

They might think they’re different, but they’re not; they’re in the bag with all the other M&M’s, and so they lull themselves into a false sense of security because they are surrounded by others like them.

And when you try to hold them, they melt in your hand. And you get blamed for the mess, because you had an authentic, warm hand.

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February 17th, 2008 Highly Sensitive Person, HSP, Psychology, relationships, Sensory Processing Sensitivity No Comments »

Hope Does Not Float

Sometimes I catch myself crying. I’ll be listening to music, or playing Mahjong, or watching television, and a tear will make a cold streak down one cheek, and then i have to ask myself what caused it. A cheesy commercial? A dramatic scene in a movie? Allergies? Some irritation in my eye? Maybe the irritation is simply the act of seeing through my own eyes. What triggers these moments of melancholy? what veiled emotion slips out while i am paying attention to something else?

My first thoughts always go to the inordinate amount of time i spend alone. Am i just lonely, then? Yes. Profoundly, sometimes. The nature of my life is one of frequent isolation, and most of the time, I’m okay with that. But this tearful reaction resonates with deeper meaning. My thoughts go to all of those in my life, and those now out of my life that i hear about second hand. I hear about them finding love, living in domestic bliss with a partner and a child, and a family, and i know now that my life is half over, and I can only hope to have one of those things. And that’s looking bleaker by the moment. I know that a life of purpose and meaning is something that happens to other people. I create works of art, I write and sing and record songs, I author books and blogs, and I share it all with everyone. I study and i question and I examine, and I try faithfully to understand everything about living in this time-space continuum. I lay bare for all the world to see, the secrets of my soul, the joy and inspiration, along with the wounds of my heart, hoping that it will matter somehow. That someone might notice that i get it–that I really understand. That I am honoring the gifts. That someone might come along and see me. Really see me. But each momentary frisson of hope is only mocking me. And the knowledge is red hot against my heart, that I worked so passionately to conquer those crutches I leaned on so hard in the past, to refuse to be victimized, to be an individual others enjoy spending time with; I taught myself to laugh again, and to see something good in everything i encountered. I learned about human nature, philosophy, sexology, science, spirituality…I made myself available to others for counsel and support. And they sought my counsel. They thanked me. They praised me. And for brief moments it made sense, and it made me proud to be who I am. Proud of the progress I had made. I wanted to be someone also who had something tangible and of value to offer that special someone, but all I become is the one who repairs their injuries, lightswitching their darkness. . . and I am left watching them carry on, revived, while I spend so many nights clenching my fists and fighting against the maudlin memories, the sharp blade of truth against my jugular. I look out the window and whisper, When is it my turn? After years of fervent toiling to fashion myself into a person of character and integrity, I find that these are not qualities in high demand. Perhaps my greatest work of fiction, is that I’m okay with how it’s turned out. That I would apparently have better luck if I had remained damaged.

Hope does not float. It sits on the bottom, weighted by its own lie.

 

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February 17th, 2008 humor, Psychology No Comments »

I Love My Shoes

Yesterday, I wrote a blog about Biscuit, my cat who has S.A.D, O.C.D, and B.P.D. and EIEIO…

My other cat, Shoes, found out, and was really pissed. I promised her I’d write a blog about her too, so here it goes.

Shoes named herself. I saw her little white markings on her feet and thought of Socks and Boots but those were too trite. Then she climbed halfway in one of my shoes and mewed at me and I went. OhShoes, is it? So she named herself, and had a way of acting like I was pretty stupid not to think of it before she had to show me.

She quickly developed a tendency to fall down on the floor and turn over to show me her belly. In this photo, she is saying, “Mommy! Look at my panniculus!” *

When I first brought her home, she wasnt quite old enough to be declawed yet, and thats usually not a big deal. But Shoes was another story. My best friend stayed over one night and whenever wed close our eyes to go to sleep, she would see our eyes moving under our eyelids, and shed rear up and then pounce on our eyes with both feet. It was so charming and comical, but not worth losing any eyeballs over. We had to buy swim goggles to sleep in, for our own safety. She pounced on them just to teach us a lesson. We didnt get much sleep. But I cant help but laugh. Cats are just so much fun. I like that theyre so independent. You cant boss a cat around.Thus, I respect them.

Other personality traits in Shoes include an unhealthy appetite for tape and other things that have glue on them. I bet shed eat some paste if I bought her some. Glue-eating isn’t all that unusual. Kindergarten kids do it all the time. (though i never developed a taste for it, myself). Shoes also says “mama” to meI actually made an effort to teach her to do this, so the first time she “said” it, I was a proud parent. Although it sounds more like “Meh-Meh than “mama”, but I’m sure it’s some evolutionary constraint that she can’t help.

She will aggravate me when she needs something and is relentless until I give in and follow her to wherever the issue is. Its usually either the litterbox, the food bowl or the water. (ah, the simple life.) If its not one of those, it’s that she wants me to pay attention (“Look what I can do!”) Sometimes it’s that she wants me to sing to her. I did a lot of music when she was a kitten, and she is definitely a music lover. Id catch her perched next to my studio mic, chirping into it, MehMeh! Pretty smart. One time she actually came and told me when Biscuit got her neck caught in the handle of a plastic sack (no doubt, due to her sack-licking obsession…a testimony to the dangers of addiction). Shoes came and screamed at me and led me upstairs, sitting down and waiting, until i understood, when Biscuit came flying through the living room, with a sack billowing out behind her like a parachute. (Now i cut the handles to all sacks).

But if on occasion, calling to me doesnt work, Shoes will start knocking things in the floor. Usually its not breakables. She seems fond of paper. Shell paddle at a piece of paper until she swipes it to the floor. And then when i reprimand her, she does what no other cat I’ve ever had does: she runs TOWARD me. Now, most cats, when you yell at them, run AWAY. Not Shoes. She trots over to me and asks me why I’m mad. She’s also not afraid of other people, nor thunderstorms. Sniff sniff. Mommy’s so proud.

I just told her i wrote a blog about her too, and she said, “It’s about time.” and knocked my stapler in the floor.
—————————-
*Panniculus– a layer of tissue, esp. a subcutaneous layer of fat.

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February 16th, 2008 humor, Psychology No Comments »

Mental Biscuit

After spending a good 16 hours in my basement office, my feet were stinging cold. When I climbed into bed to continue reading my John Varley novel, I kept being distracted by two thingsmy feet, of course, and my cat, Biscuit.

I solved the feet problem by nuking one of those gel packs. My feet were then warming up under the covers, but Biscuit was still doing her best to let me know she knew it was bedtime, and thats when she begins her rituals.

First, its blocking my path and mewing, and slithering in and out of my ankles. Then its jumping on the bed to await me, still talking in her little kitty voice. She never ceases to be excited when I announce its bedtime. Maybe she has a short term memory and forgot that she did the same thing last night and the night before, and on into every previous night since her adoption. I wish i could remain that enthused by something i do every single day of my life.

Regardless, this feline has a screw loose, but thats usually why I find her so charming. I named her for the incessant biscuit-making she does on any available soft surface. If thats my chest or my stomach, shes fine with that. Problem is, she does it for a long long time, and even a tactile person like myself can get a little annoyed by her fervor. I know she cant help itI didnt know that at the time of her adoption, she wasn’t yet weaned, but it explains a lot now. Her biscuit-making is an instinctual responseshes essentially nursing while doing that. Im afraid this led to her being OCD, though. She has other behaviors that echo this unfulfilled need, though Ive yet to figure out exactly what they do for her. For instance, she likes to lick plastic sacks. I thought at first it was because there was something delicious spilled on them, but when she did it to all sacks, spilled food or not, I realized she had a plastic sack addiction. I dont think there are any support groups for that. At least not for cats. I wouldn’t be surprised if there were some for people who like to lick sacks. Stranger groups have formed.

Biscuit also likes to lay on the top of the recliner, her legs dangling on either side (see photographic illustration). I think she might also have Borderline Personality Disorder(Ive always thought that label was misleadingits like I almost have a personalty, but not quiteIm right on the border) anyway, I think she might be BPD, because she gets all up in my fruit loops all the time, but when I try to pet her, she pulls away. Shes better about that than she used to be, but reallywhen Im trying to type, she does a little waltz across the desk in front of me, careful to use her tail as a feather duster, under my nose, and also as a thing-knocker-over, and once when I had a candle on the desk–to my momentary horror, she almost allowed her tail to be Keeper of the Flame.

This frequent attention seeking always ends in her escaping too much affection. She wants it but doesnt want it, at the same time. She also disappears when I have company and doesnt trust anyone–except me, but only a little. Thats Social Anxiety Disorder. So she has SAD, BPD and OCD. She reminds me of most of my ex-girlfriends.

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February 2nd, 2008 Psychology, relationships No Comments »

Et Tu, Brute?


“You blocks, you stones,
you worse than senseless things!
O you hard hearts, you cruel men of Rome…”
-Shakespeare (Julius Caesar)


I am regularly dismayed by human behavior. It seems more and more difficult to find emotionally stable people–people who have a firm grip on character and integrity, a working knowledge of truth. Some folks are just plain mean.

Tonight, for instance, a person i thought was my friend turned on me, and although i think i know why, it still doesn’t make it easier to take. She was incapable of processing her emotions in a healthy way, and took her angst out on me. She chose to believe things that were not true, because it somehow explained the failure of our relationship; and effectively kept her from doing any self-examination. She then chose to inflict great personal harm and insult, with no provocation. If a certain switch gets flipped, people are capable of selecting the most harmful or hurtful things to say to you, with full knowledge that it will inflict pain. To make this action even more reprehensible, her accusation was no more than a hypocritical projection–she was guilty of that which she accused me. Psychology 101.

These are the people who look you in the eye and deny their ability to crush you, deflect your attempts to ease your mind, and destroy your faith in humankind. No matter how many times someone tells me “Oh, i would never treat you like that,” I have come to realize that those words mean precisely nothing to me. This is a level of cruelty i am not willing to have in my life–from friend nor foe.

You are not what you say,
you are what you do.

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December 30th, 2007 Psychology No Comments »

"Don’t You DARE say I’m Unique!"

First, let me just do a disclaimer here….I can’t profess to know someone i don’t know…i can only look at the data i have and make an informed assessment….that’s what i’m about to do, but know that i realize i could be completely wrong….i am using this person as an example to get to greater meanings…..i do that a lot. Real examples are always so much better than the hypothetical ones…

Okay….In my account on experienceproject.com, i created a group/interest that directs everyone to Atypical Lesbians forum, should they be interested. I explained, using the description on the home page, primarily, and left a link.

The next day, I got this comment on the post:

Gothgrrl said :
“doesn’t that sound a bit discriminating? who said that typical lesbians are not intelligent, witty, loyal or educated??”

I ANSWERED:

Gothgrrrl, the dictionary defines “typical” thus:

1. exhibiting the qualities or characteristics that identify a group or kind or category; “a typical American girl”; “a typical suburban community”; “the typical car owner drives 10,000 miles a year”; “a painting typical of the Impressionist school”; “a typical romantic poem”; “a typical case of arteritis” [ant: atypical]<<<<<<

2. of a feature that helps to distinguish a person or thing; “Jerusalem has a distinctive Middle East flavor”- Curtis Wilkie; “that is typical of you!” [syn: distinctive]
3. conforming to a type; “the typical (or normal) American”; “typical teenage behavior”

I have discovered over many years that typical lesbians do not care about certain things, and they behave and think in certain ways that are common to lesbians in general. I had a hard time finding those who were not like that and had other qualities. Hence, ATYPICAL.

I think that being politically correct all the time about everything has a way of stifling communication among ALL people. WE are too afraid to say things for fear of stepping on toes, and so things don’t get discussed and issues don’t get resolved. Furthermore, why would you denigrate or discourage a group whose goal is to aspire to the best in themselves in all ways?

This is my opinion, and Atypical Lesbians is my project. IF you don’t resonate with it, then you wouldn’t be comfortable there. However, since you’ve never found out about it, taken part or had a discussion about it with me or any other member, you are not qualified to make your judgment.

Thank you for your comment, and i wish you all good things.

December 30th, 2007 at 06:13PM
Oh, and Goth–one more thing. I never said that typical lesbians weren’t all those things. I said that ATYPICALS were, plus they were other things too. It’s a combination. And you took it out of context for your own purpose, whatever that might be.

Now, i am sharing the above posts because i feel it is a good example of something quite common that is at the crux of why my site, Atypical Lesbians is needed. There will always be some people who know–even if only on some subconscious level– that they are not reaching or striving for their potential, and so they must justify this in various ways, one of which is by attacking those who do strive toward their potential.

I wanted some perspective on her, so i went to her page/profile… one thing that popped out was, Gothgrrrl filled in her HEALTH CONCERNS AS:
Borderline Personality Disorder, Panic Disorder, OCD, Avoidant, Social Anxiety, Depression (nice cocktail, but mostly BPD)

I can see why she was diagnosed this way–her behavior exemplifies it in SPADES.

Further, she also has a group of “Experiences & Interests” Icons complete with labels:
[img]file:///C:/DOCUME%7E1/JAEBAE%7E1/LOCALS%7E1/Temp/moz-screenshot-5.jpg[/img]

Have Borderline Personality Disorder

Still Love My Ex

Have a Boyfriend But Want Someone Else

Want to Be Fearless

Have Anxiety Attacks

Am Terrified of Commitment

Am In Therapy

Study History

She is announcing to the world everything about herself that is broken….I saw nothing positive in her list, did you? Just on the surface, by looking at this list, one can make an assessment about her, that she is allowing herself to be a victim, has a hard time letting go, wants what she feels she can’t have, is not honest with herself or others sometimes, allows fear to be the foundation of her existence, needs something to blame things on, doesn’t know what she wants and is afraid of it if she does, cannot deal with change–is not adaptable….i could go on and on…it’s not that hard to figure out, just by looking at her list.

Obviously, she struggles quite a bit with coping. Someone with that many diagnoses is PATENTLY lacking in coping skills. Believe me, i am not dismissing or condescending to those with chemical imbalances and organic mental illness….I believe there is a difference, here, that is worth noting, which often gets blurred by humanity’s own garbage: brain injury, chemical imbalance and organic brain illness are not what i am addressing here…i am addressing those conditions, disorders or imbalances that stem from a human’s own creation, starting with the coping mechanisms created to deal with something.

Back to my bug under the glass…Gothgrrrl–the fact that she announced all that on her page, means that she embraces it as her identity. She allows it to have complete power over her. It’s almost like being mentally ill is her religion, and the illness itself is her god. All things are referenced back to this NutGod. Things that cannot be explained, things she doesn’t want to deal with. If she can shift it there, she doesn’t have to look at it or do anything to make it better.

Further, I also believe that many of the names the psychological intelligentsia gives to disorders would be better stated as COPING MECHANISMS, not Personality Disorders… A disorder of personality has an antecedent…that, being the inability to cope in a healthy way.

I think that probably most of the things we call personality disorders is merely a manifestation of an inability to cope with something in a healthy way. I think these things can be conquered, notwithstanding the true chemical imbalances and organic brain conditions that also exist… I can say these things from experience.

I was diagnosed over the years with many different things…to the point where i thought i was just this broken, fucked up individual. It’s enough to make you want to kill yourself….oh…see the correlation? That’s not very helpful, is it? Well, once i took responsibility for all that and began to do the self-work, avoid the therapy where i just masturbated the sickness, things began to change. Those symptoms of these disorders went away. wow. it was a miracle. NO. IT WAS HARD WORK and it was SELF UNDERSTANDING and it was SELF-RESPONSIBILITY.

The amusing/paradoxical/telling thing is that Gothgrrrl also identified strongly as someone who studies HISTORY. Not her OWN, ironically….isn’t that interesting? Someone will choose an identity marker of one who studies things in the past, when they are crippled by their present because they can’t study their own history?

Okay. I’ll stop here. I hope this gives some food for thought, and i welcome any insights from any of you, even if you are chicken to post it here under comments….

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November 23rd, 2007 Psychology, relationships No Comments »

Relationships: Dealing with Psych Issues

 

I have always been interested in the subject/discipline/pseudo-science of psychology.

I have been through my own dark nights of the soul. I have had various diagnoses for conditions caused by biology, physiology, environment, upbringing, life challenges and issues…most of us have. But in going through all of these, I made a concerted effort to understand myself, the effect that various experiences had on me as an individual, and I explored every possibility and option for healing myself, without allowing myself to entirely fall prey to the victim mentality that I was completely helpless.

I have also known many people who struggled with various psychological issues, and I have endeavored to understand them as well, as someone on the outside, looking in. Frankly, I think that mental and emotional instability is more prevalent in our society than ever before. Part of that, I believe, is the nature of our society–what our society has become in response to technological growth, the nature of being in a “global village,” and all the demands of life that seem more and more urgent and taxing.

I have been asked for advice many times about how to deal with people who are behaving in a certain way that is damaging to themselves, their relationships or to other people. This is because I have made no secret of my experiences in that regard, and I am happy to provide insight whenever asked. I have been on both sides of that coin. While I don’t have all the answers, I do believe I have a few. With that in mind, I want to share a couple of situations that seem to arise the most.

  • If you find yourself dealing with someone who is unstable, and you suspect they might have some kind of disorder– whether personality disorder or some other organic brain issue–be aware that you should mention it, but that timing is crucial.

Let’s say you are in a new sexual relationship, and your partner is manifesting some odd psychological symptoms. You want to mention it, talk about it, offer a suggestion that they talk to their doctor about it– whatever the case may be. One caveat is this: don’t EVER bring it up while that person is “Triggering” (manifesting those symptoms and in a negative state of some kind). They will be incapable of processing the information in a healthy way. The best time to bring this up is AFTER you have had sex, and she has had an orgasm.


(for real, I mean it).

The reason is, her positive/euphoric brain chemicals (neurotransmitters and neuropeptides, mostly) will be flooding her brain–dopamine, oxytocin, serotonin, norepinephrine, epinephrine–some of them, the same chemicals that are normally unbalanced. She will be much more likely to be receptive to a difficult subject. (If she responds with resistance, saying you are ruining her good moment, or the like, then just know that you probably have no other recourse, as she must meet you halfway in order to make any positive changes. You have then made an effort to do the right thing, and you can walk away with no regrets, or should-haves lingering in your mind).

Also, DON’T have this conversation in BED. Suggest the two of you go into the living room, have a glass of wine, and talk on the sofa.

The reason for this is, you don’t want to create a contradictory or negative association between love/sex and pain/discomfort. Creating this negative association can adversely affect the sense of comfort, safety and pleasure that should reside in the bed.

Also be aware that if this person is unwilling to seek help, there is absolutely NOTHING you can do. Improvement only follows their own ability to be proactive and help themselves.

  • Often, the negative behaviors of people are predicated on their own damage. If someone is treating you with disregard, is being abusive, disrupting your stability, being insensitive, passive aggressive or otherwise becoming a toxic element in your life, you have the right and the responsibility to demand better. This usually means walking away from that person, and never looking back. You truly do teach people how to treat you, and if you allow mistreatment, it’s the same as telling them it’s okay to treat you badly.
  • If you are dealing with some kind of disorder yourself, then know that no matter what others may tell you–professionals and laymen alike–you DO have the power to turn it around, and create at least a portion of the life you would like to have. Hiding it will never be an effective means of dealing with it. Sooner or later, you will not be able to maintain consistency and the truth will emerge, and is likely to damage anything positive you might have created up to that point.

We are all struggling. We are here to learn and evolve. If at any time we cease to do that, we are merely going through the motions, and not really living at all.

The human mind is a fascinating, and as yet, largely uncharted mechanism. What we do know about it is incredibly inspiring, interesting and helpful. What we don’t know is the promise of a deeper understanding of ourselves and our place in the Universe and on this particular time-space continuum. Don’t think for a moment that everyone else but you is stable and healthy. We all have our issues. The only difference is in how we choose to deal with them. That’s the distinction that can create a life of pain, strife and conflict, or a life of joy, love and happiness.

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