Long Roads

Like everyone else I know, I've had plenty of adverse, embarrassing, shameful or distressing situations arise. You don't get to hang out on the planet for very long without that experience. Whether it's getting an F for standing in front of my whole fifth grade class and not being able connect the wires from the battery to the light bulb, or finding out that my husband is in love with my best friend, I have painful stories that make up part of the tapestry of my life. Everyone does.

One story thread for me is alcoholism and sobriety. I did my lifetime's worth of drinking and drugging by the time I was 30 and had to trade my drinking card for a folding chair in a church basement with a bunch of other people who had been through the wringer. We all had our own stories, or unique journeys, but we shared what was most important --- we needed help to quit and the help that worked for me was in those rooms.  31 years ago, on January 5, 1981, I tentatively took my seat, the one that was waiting for me. I didn't think I belonged there and I wasn't at all sure I was through. But I decided to listen. I found a lot of other people who felt like they were on the sidelines, baffled by how their good intentions didn't work out, how they couldn't get any traction in life, couldn't like themselves or get along with other people.

I know that everyone has things they feel self-conscious about. There is probably not a person alive who is entirely content all the time. The human condition seems to bend to the breeze of  want and desire. Whatever it is that makes one person able to laugh off what another holds as a deep wound, keeps us from ever truly understanding another person's afflictions. That they exist, yes. How they feel, we'll never know.

That being so, it would seem to follow that we would treat each other gently, acknowledging that we don't know what another person suffers, and don't presume to judge. But the opposite is more often the case. Since other people can't understand why in the world you're so scared of spiders, or can't stand the smell of gum, or writhe over having to speak to a stranger, they will more likely laugh it off or tease or become irritated. Isn't that what happens?

I've had a bug phobia as long as I can remember. I was teased and taunted by siblings, boyfriends, cousins, even the adults around me. It was shaming and did nothing to help me get over the fear. It wasn't until I finally fell into the care of a trained therapist ---- by that time so paralyzed that I would hardly leave the house ----- that I was able to get relief and begin to take control over that part of my life. They still scare me. I'll never be a friend of the insect. But I'm no longer immobilized by fear. And it started with someone acknowledging the fear and offering to help.

What is it that makes people prey on someone they perceive as having a weakness, rather than offering strength and understanding? There is a lot of play in the media about bullying these days. I'm glad it is being taken seriously. I know there is a backlash as well. There are the minimizers who say that everybody gets teased and bullied, it's part of growing up. And there are the bully-apologists, who seem to take some pleasure in hierarchical terrorism, with statements like: "I was bullied and I turned out all right. It made me stronger."

I happen to believe that the first bullying experience many people encounter is from parents. The message is clear --- I'm bigger and stronger than you are, so I can make you do whatever I want. And if you don't, I'll hurt you.

We are a society built on competition, testing, and strength. Those are all attributes that can be positive, can contribute to meeting personal goals and bringing personal commitment to the community. But very often they are glorified and exploited for their own sake, as in sports, business, and military power. Within the framework of Win-Lose, Top Down, Winner take All, and Might is Right, care and nurture are seen as weak, disability =worthlessness, and arts and intellect are extracurricular fluff.

I know that is simplistic. Any kind of blanket categorization is indefensible. That is why, when I find instances that call those assumptions into question, I pounce on them, eager to be proven wrong. Unfortunately, too often I simply see further confirmation of my previously formed categorical thinking.

Maybe I should get new glasses. Or maybe I already have.