The End of Empathy.

Just read The End of Empathy by Stephanie Wittels. It actually took me a minute to realise she's Harris Wittels' sister. It took the mentioning of an entertainment rag announcing his death for me to make the link.

Her piece talks about the seemingly impossible existence of empathy on the internet, especially in comment sections.

She's right. I'll often write something relatively benign on the Atlantic's comment feed and get a bunch of "Millennials are the fucking worst" and non-related rants about Muslims or Feminism. It's just, the worst.

Usually, I'll try and stay away from comment sections, but the masochist in me sometimes just can't resist.

I try and offset that type of rage or ignorance through simple, kind reactions. It usually works.

This one time I also just replied:

It was an honest reaction, and my sensitive, empathetic nature was worried about his blood pressure / rage haemorrhoids.

I don't think empathy is dead, but I do think emotional intelligence is a spectrum, and that crap people love being crappy on the internet, where they can rage-out and be ridiculous with impunity, and without getting confronted/called out or punched in the face.

I actually find empathy a great tool in confronting outlandish reactions. Especially in confronting anger/shittyness.

"Are you alright, you seem really angry."

And when people need to answer with how they feel, or why they feel that way, they change their angle.

Then again what do I know. I'm a liberal man-hating queerbones baby butthole - or whatever.

Well, it’s been weird (like my face).

Well, it’s been weird.

I decided to buck-up and go into work. Sitting at home was just going to further along my narration of feeling sorry for myself. Besides, it’s not like I have tons of vacation days and am making enough money to actually take time off. So, I came into work.

I figured I need to work, I need the pay-checks, it would be good to get out of the house, and there’s no telling how long I’ll be living with Bell’s palsy for, so I might as well live as if it’s my new normal. And honestly, it hasn't taken that long for it to be my “new normal.” It's what I've got right now.

I was the first in the office, and the next two architects in were quick to notice and ask me about it. One got pretty upset, which upset me. I guess it’s kind of upsetting to see me. I look sad I think. I'm like a puppy in a cast. Only I'm a grown human woman with a half-paralysed face.

I decided to send an e-mail out to my co-workers, explaining what happened and linking to the Bell’s palsy wiki. I mean, you can’t not notice, so at least this way people might answer their own questions. A few people I’m closer to were more upset, and were pretty empathetic.

Overall, it went well, it just takes a lot of energy to manage people’s reactions. I got upset once, and it was Monday morning talking to one of the senior architects who just looked so sad. I was saying that Friday and Saturday had been hard on my morale, and I choked up a bit.

I'm lucky to have had Friday in the hospital and the weekend to adjust. It has helped me adjust, and just kind of accept it. I felt sorry for myself, but that got old fast enough.

Eating lunch is hard, so I try and take it slow to not be gross. I drink with a straw I brought in. I don’t buy plastic straws anymore ever since watching a video of a sea turtle with a straw up his nose.

My right eye has started twitching, and I'm tired. I'm going to have to try and sleep more, and rest the eye more. It's going to be an adjustment. Daily, I guess.

Navigating the world with an eye-patch on has been something. First, I look like a pirate. But I also wear black a lot so I look like an assassin pirate I guess. It affects my depth perception. And I can't really smile. Walking around it has a nice "fuck off leave me alone" quality. But sometimes I don't want to look that way. Sometimes I want to smile. 

I went to the Kiehl's store yesterday to pick up a moisturiser I had sampled the week before my paralysis. I got the same sales rep, who was quick to be like, "You weren't paralysed last week!" Which, in fairness, I wasn't.

The other sales girls were really curious about it.

To be honest it's kind of socially interesting to see people's reactions. People really internalize it. There are some people who have really big, deep reactions. Some are clearly terrified at the thought of waking up disfigured, even if it's promised to be temporary. Some look disgusted. Worried. Some are disbelieving. People want to know why and how they can avoid it. 

To be clear, it isn't promised to be temporary. There can be lasting effects, and I'm still learning about them. But, it's still early days and I'm overwhelmed as it is so I'm trying to take it slow.

All of this reminds me of an article recommended to me on how not saying the wrong thing when you're interacting with someone going through something difficult. Apparently this is known as "ring theory." 

The illustration is by Wes Bausmith, sourced from the LA Times article.

So, according to this theory, if you're communicating "inward" (towards the person or people who are more directly affected by the illness or trauma) you're meant to be comforting. If you're looking to "dump" on someone, or "complain" and make it about you, it should be to someone who is further out from the centre of that trauma. 

The closer that person is to the bullseye (as compared to you) the more supportive you should be. 

It's a great theory. I think that there are some people who are so innately self-centred and anxious that they're unable to truly empathize outside of themselves. So presenting this theory to someone who is a narcissist, won't change that.

It's been interesting to see peoples reactions. Who says something supportive? Who can't get past what my situation would mean to them? It seems that friends who are more likely to be described as being good looking, or who would self-identify as their looks being important to them, have taken it really hard. They have big reactions. I'm guessing for them, they can't imagine going out and living a life that's disfigured. 

Being pretty has never been an identifier for me. It's not even in my top 10. But for someone who whom it's in the top 3, I can see how it would really shake them.

I think most reactions have been because I look sad. I look like I'm frowning and I'm not wearing make-up and I just look sad. So people see me and reflect that. 

I think for a lot of people, it's potentially one of the worse "temporary" medical issues they can get since it's so visible and clear. 

For me my acceptance of this, is entirely reliant on whether or not this is indeed temporary. I say that, knowing full well, if this ends up permanent I have absolutely no recourse. I mean, I'm "accepting" this first and foremost because I have no real choice in the matter. And yes, it's easier to swallow if I tell myself it is most likely temporary, but this is all guesswork. It's a great way to sooth the worries of others. I get to say, "it's supposed to be temporary."

I understand that for some it might seem obvious that it's temporary, and that it could clear up in weeks, but in the research I've seen, and in the stuff I've read so far, there does not seem to be two cases alike. I saw a 4-week heal rate in someone very young, and I've seen cases drag on over a year, with very slow progress. Some people do have permanent impairments. I've read of people going through acupuncture and referring to it as a miracle cure, like I've seen people say they went to 10 sessions and had no change. Wikipedia is saying it's mainly treated with steroids, but for now it doesn't even seem like studies are conclusive on its efficacy. 

It could be inflammation based. It could be stress based. It could come from a virus. It could a lot of things. It's described as being a diagnosis of "exclusion" in that it's not a stroke and it's not B, C, or D, thus it's Bell's palsy. 

For now it's just a ton of questions and just trying to figure things out while resting because I'm exhausted and impaired. My eye has been twitching a lot. I get muscle pain in my under jaw, like right in my mouth/jaw. 

My mom wanted to treat me last night so we had turkey burgers with bacon in it. I was eating it like a bird with the side-hole of my mouth, the only part that works. It was kind of bananas. I feel like one of those impaired background players in an Adam Sandler movie. You know, one of his buddies he casts in all his films, to act dumb and usually back-watery. I laugh out of the side of my mouth and just want to make it even weirder by completely changing my physical comedy. 

It's been weird.

It's been absurd, really.

How to start an empathy revolution.

Roman Krznaric at TEDxAthens 2013 and the travelling empathy museum.

How People Treat Mental Illness vs. Physical Illness.

By Haejin Park over at Buzz Feed.

What I Wish People Knew about Depression.

Really great piece over at Psych Central about the unknowns and untruths about depression.

Written by Therese J. Borchard, who nailed it.

Some of my favourite bits: 

I wish people knew that depression wasn’t something that can be cured by participating in a 21-day meditation series with Deepak Chopra or Eckhart Tolle on Oprah.com, and that although mindfulness efforts can certainly help, it’s possible to have consistent, chronic death thoughts even after years of developing a meditation practice.
I wish people knew you could be grateful and depressed at the same time, that gratitude can coexist with a mood disorder. 

I wish people knew that, despite impressive research on neuroplasticity and our brain’s capability of changing, it is unfair to expect a person to undo depression by merely thinking happy thoughts, that the science is new and while a person can be mindful of forming new neural passageways, he can’t change a lamp into an elephant overnight, just as he can’t unthink a tumor from happening.

... 

I wish people knew that the hardest thing some persons will ever do in this lifetime is to stay alive, that just because staying alive comes easily to some, it doesn’t mean arriving at a natural death is any less of a triumph for those who have to work so very hard to keep breathing.

Really voices how I feel, that no matter the research, the knowledge and the understanding I gain, I still struggle daily. All the explanations in the world don's actually change the way I hurt. 

Great read.

Originally posted here.

Brené Brown on Empathy.

Suicide is not selfish.

I was introduced to Feminista Jones through a podcast I listened to featuring her. She's a sex-positive, intersectional feminist and black rights activist, who works in community activism and social support systems.

In her interview she talks about mental health and suicide, and mentions a past article of hers I'd like to link to, and talk about here. Jones mentions a colleague who recently died by suicide, and how disappointed she was to see the online community victim-blame and refer to her suicide as "selfish."

Jones discusses the issue from the perspective of a black woman, and describes the ways in which the culture of being a black woman in America is extremely loaded:

... for Black women, experiences with depression and trauma are often directly related to our being women and being Black and carrying the weight of this duality in a society that “others” both identities. Factor in religious expectations that require "more faith," intraracial expectations of loyalty and secrecy (when experiencing abuse), and the persistent disconnect between Black people and mental health care, there are so many things to consider when a Black woman takes her own life.

Intersectionality is an important part of not only a feminist analysis of the world, but of a considered, logical one. Context exists. It matters. There have been numerous articles and media coverage of PTSD and the black experience over the last few months, especially in relation to state-violence and gun violence. What about gender and sexual violence? What about being a black woman, who experiences both of these things but might also live with a disability, or face homophobia? Everything matters.

Personally, I have a lot of difficulty reading pieces about suicide that are written by people outside of the mental illness community. I don't think suicide is selfish. I think it's a painful result of a really painful time. It's seen as the only out. It's the only solace. I get that. It's turning it all off. Lights out. Peace.

Feminist Jones describes this well, here she's comparing losing someone to suicide as opposed to cancer:

There is something different about a person committing suicide, though, which elicits a different, almost angry feeling of betrayal. Many people think it is selfish to end your life when so many people love you, rely on you, need and want you around, and can’t imagine their lives without you. The angry feelings are often centred on what people need from you… for themselves. Some people make your life, your whole being, and your entire purpose more about what works to make their own lives better. People are concerned more about what they can no longer take from you and less about whether or not you were living your life happily for yourself. When someone takes his/her own life, that person is posthumously blamed for causing so many other people pain with little recognition or empathy for the pain that likely led to the suicide itself.

She goes on to refer to it as an act of "freedom and mercy" for the self, and is critical of how unsympathetic some are when discussing someone dying by suicide.

No one has the right to determine what another person should endure. We don’t get to tell other people that “it will be OK” and they “need to have more faith”. We have no right to tell someone that their pain isn’t as bad as others, thus negating their experiences and isolating them further away from actually getting help that might make things better. We don’t get to make other people’s lives about US and demand that people live for us and our wants and needs. We have no permission to dictate the choices of others and expect that their choices consider our feelings before their own. That is the epitome of selfishness and we need to end that way of thinking.

She ends her peace in a devastatingly poignant statement:

I’ll leave you with this: When I hear “Suicide is selfish,” I think of every Black woman held in bondage, whose body was ravaged daily, whose womb was exploited for profit, whose children were stolen, whose back was lashed for not meeting the requirements of her owner, who was sterilized, and whose mind was irreparably destroyed after years of torture who took the only path of freedom for which her earthly body could not be further punished.

 I can't speak to the black experience. I can only speak to my own variations of pain.

And pain, kills. And wanting to escape that pain, should not be faulted. Especially when the services and the accommodations offered to us to help live with that pain are lacking and in most cases, all-together non-existent.

If you want me to live, help me.

If you can't help me, let me die.

If you can't let me die, try and empathise with why I would want to.

It all brings me back to a quote from Martha Manning's Undercurrents:

I didn't want to die because I hated myself; I wanted to die because I loved myself enough to want this pain to end.

I know that must be really dark and unimaginable for a healthy person to understand, but at least try.

A Highly Sensitive Person; in graphs.

All from Buzzfeed.

I'm a Highly Sensitive Person.

My initial reaction to opening the Salon article What your levels of sensitivity say about you by Scott Barry Kaufman, was that it made me laugh, because, naturally, the banner image is Claire Danes crying.

The article starts with a quote by Pearl S. Buck. It irritates me that she uses the male pronouns here, especially since she’s the creative person she’s referencing, but I guess it’s a sign of the times.

The truly creative mind in any field is no more than this: A human creature born abnormally, inhumanly sensitive. To him… 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, and create— so that without the creating of music or poetry or books or buildings or something of meaning, his very breath is cut off from him. He must create, must pour out creation. By some strange, unknown, inward urgency he is not really alive unless he is creating.

This rung true in me, since I'm sensitive to a lot of things. Crowds, noise - I'm easily over-stimulated, especially when I'm tired. It’s not unusual for me to get home some days and need to sit quietly and decompress. That might sound like meditation, but it isn't It just me sitting down and attempting to allow my brain to release some of the stimulation it’s still processing. I almost shut-down. There are definitely ways in which creative output help me feel productive with my sensitivity. It’s difficult, and rare, to feel sensitivity benefits me. I know it benefits friends and those around me, in certain situations (situations where I can provide support) but for me, it’s as if I'm carrying something fragile at all times.

The article discusses how different types of sensitivity are measured in people, and how being sensitive can affect you:

On the one hand, this research confirms that ease of excitation and low sensory threshold are related to negative life outcomes. This is consistent with prior research that has found that these forms of sensitivity are linked to lower levels of meaningfulness and self-efficacy, and are positively related to anxiety, depression,poor social skills, poor attention details and difficulty describing and identifying feelings, avoidant personality disorder, social phobia, and agoraphobia.

On the other hand, this research suggests that sensitivity need not be negative. As the researchers note, “for some sensitive people, sensitivity does not necessarily have to be debilitating. Rather, it could enhance their complex inner lives, and possibly lead to higher subjective well-being.” Prior research has found that aesthetic sensitivity is related to a variety of beneficial outcomes, including greater attention to detail and communication skills, and higher levels of affilitativeness and openness to experience.

The author goes on to mention an Elaine Aron book The Highly Sensitive Person:

...highly sensitive people may thrive in a more peaceful environment. In such solitude, these individuals may be better able to take advantage of their sensitivities. Indeed, many famous artists, musicians, humanitarians and scientists were exquisitely sensitive to their environments, and used their experiences as grist for the mill of their extraordinary creativity and compassion. Sensitivity is not only associated with creativity, but also with spirituality, mystical experiences, and a connection to nature.

The article is pretty thin, but I appreciate the research dealing with sensitivity. Yes, there are many kinds of sensitivity, and different kinds, coupled with the difference of individuality creates a myriad of experiences with sensitivity.

This article doesn't touch the socio-cultural readings of sensitivity, but by experience it isn't something appreciated in working spaces, the corporate world, capitalism or in structures of power. 

Empathy cards for serious illness.

These empathy cards for serious illness by Emily McDowell are beautiful and so so so so welcome tin a world of disingenuous cliché.

I have a few similar designs that focus on depression and "hard times."

Here are a few of Emily's:

Check them out on Emily's website.