On Monday, I was so overwhelmed by my mother's gossip that I got upset and left after dinner.
It's been over 5 years that my mother has shared gossip with me about what she claims is the truth, but actually is her opinion based on her biases. However, it is my contention that consistent negativity taints the truth with the negativities of the truth teller.
From my observations, my mother is heavily opinionated and thus her claim of truth suggests she embroiders a series of white lies using tidbits of truth.
In fact, it really is not gossip because it is one-sided, and each and every time I have responded with my own opinion, she has either rejected or ignored it.
According my interactions with her for most of my life, the good son is supposed to listen to her monologue without comment but with rapt attention to her even though he is left feeling sad and depressed because the commentary is distinctively negative and one-sided.
If I assert myself and give my point of view, then she will not accept that and repeatedly has gotten upset over it instead of accepting it. Most of the time I have tried to ignore her negativity rant and have kept my opinions to myself. Even though that comes at an emotional cost, it ends the minute I leave her home.
My mother has stated that she has the right to paint a negative commentary about our family and the world at large without me offering counter-argument.
Thus, this is not a conversation that I participate in willingly; rather I am her sounding board who is supposed to only listen to her litany of anxiety- and fear-driven monologues about our family.
Yes, I am my mother's sounding board - and it only makes me feel like I do not really have a say in the conversation because it is based on emotion-laced opinions based on ignorance.
I feel that she also has projected her negativity onto me. Although she is my mother and has never done anything wrong, she has projected her behavioural and mental negativities onto me which consist of her anxiety and concern about her family.
As a result of her monologue whenever I visit her, it has in the past led to the fine tuning of my biases and prejudices due to her stifling influence.
As I get older, I realize that my negative feelings and emotions were all labeled by my parents.
In fact, only she is allowed to express negative emotions. If I get upset about having to listen to this broken record of lamentation, then I am asked why I am angry.
There is no real compassion from my mother if I show anger. In her eyes, it is wrong for a good son to show anger. Thus, she is the parental model for maladaptive behavior.
This leads me to believe that I do not own my negative feelings because they have consistently been labeled by my mother. When my objections to her non-stop litany of negativity has led to confrontations, she has asked me why I am angry and claimed not to know why I am angry.
Well, I am angry at having to listen to my mother's negativity, which takes an emotional toll on me. This is why I spent a quiet Christmas at home this year (2014)
Yet I love my mother dearly. The only positive outcome of having to put up with my mother is I loathe gossiping and am not willing to be candid with her about my life when asked about it, except to tell the white lies that protect my privacy.
Privacy is also why there are no examples of what she has said or what I have said.
Of course, the lack of examples of my mother's behavior may cause anyone who reads this blog entry to doubt what I have written. Such doubt is based on the lack of facts I provide to protect my privacy, and I can accept that as a given.
Even writing this on my blog is difficult to do because I am aware that writing about it leaves me vulnerable. However, Christmas time makes me keenly aware that holidays are supposed to be a time of quiet respite, free of gossip and other white lies.
When a parent expresses herself negatively, it means she is unwilling to see life in a positive light due to what life has handed her. While I admit that she has found in me a willing sounding board, the psychic pain that results from listening to her has left me unwilling to spend holiday time with her.
So I will not be spending New Years Day with her either. My quiet time is too precious to share it under the barrage of negativity that taints her gossip.
Instead, I will have to work on my own behavioral and mental negativities through prayer and meditation. Indeed, my own anxieties and fears are but the legacy of my own parents passed down to me. So are my hopes and wishes, though my best work is found through self expression in this blog.
Rather than complain about my life, I would rather give the synopsis of a part of my life that will continue until my mother passes on to the glory she deserves. Much of this blog entry is carefully crafted to protect my family's privacy.
No details were provided to protect my family. Hence, candidness would only happen when I am in the company of a trusted friend. Anyone who reads this blog entry thinking they have dirt on me would be sorely mistaken. All you have as "facts" are carefully written white lies that protect my mother and myself.
Because the Internet is almost like the public domain, it would be unwise of me to be candid. Even so, as my mother declared recently, "I have the right to speak out, because it's the truth."
Ironically, all of these truths are covered by white lies to protect the privacy of my family. As well, I would admit that most of my blog entries are also protected by white lies, because the world cannot ever handle the unvarnished truth.
Logically, my opinion that white lies protect the privacy of the truth-teller is inconsistent with the argument that truth ought to be devoid of lies. My counterargument is that the white lies that I carefully dispersed in this blog entry carefully hide the truth to protect my own privacy and the privacy of my friends and family.
Showing posts with label opinion. Show all posts
Showing posts with label opinion. Show all posts
20110812
Blog to Write "It" Out
"It" refers to my thoughts and opinions, with careful consideration of what I write.
I enjoy going back to edit my blog until what I write feels true to me — usually closer to reason than gut feeling, though sometimes with a mix of rational and emotive thought when necessary.
Yet I prepare my thoughts before I put my feelings out.
For blogging isn't a daily process at the moment because a life solely lived on the Internet lacks the inspiration that interaction with people in real life brings.
While that's my opinion, we are all free to chose how we manage our lives, accordingly.
Though there is more to life than living on the Internet.
Every time I step out of my home, I savour every moment away as much as I do when returning home.
Writing a blog entry helps me to express my thoughts, and explore my feelings in a way which is more public than my private journal entries.
Although public opinion requires appropriate content, much of my private writing will not be exposed in this blog so as to preserve my peace of mind.
For self-disclosure of matters best left private has often been unsettling, and sometimes embarrassing to me.
Sometimes I even dread reading this blog after staying late the previous night, least I discover that one of my posts of the previous day contains something which might come back to haunt me.
That's easily solved by going to bed at a decent time, coupled with thinking long and hard about what I wish to write helps me to rest comfortably.
That blogging has helped me become aware of the difference between self and other is why I keep blogging.
If I wish to be helpful to others through this blog, then it's by expressing myself thoughtfully and with careful consideration of the fact that other people may be reading it.
Yes, I am careful about my choice of words when blogging, and admit to some self-censorship.
Other times, though, when the topic is abuse and violence, I will express my feelings strongly.
Life is too precious to wish the worst happened to other people — if I had done so in this blog, then I will find that entry and having regretted writing it, edit or delete it, depending on how I presently feel about the content I'd been writing.
If that's called being inconsistent, then I am guilty of it. If in the past I wrote something that insults someone or makes light of tragedy, then when I find it, I'll edit it to remain consistent with good taste. If this is self-censorship, so be it.
While that may sound politically correct, this blog would not be online long were I to step outside the boundaries of common sense.
With careful preparation, I like to blog to write it out — my thoughts and feelings about myself and others.
I enjoy going back to edit my blog until what I write feels true to me — usually closer to reason than gut feeling, though sometimes with a mix of rational and emotive thought when necessary.
Yet I prepare my thoughts before I put my feelings out.
For blogging isn't a daily process at the moment because a life solely lived on the Internet lacks the inspiration that interaction with people in real life brings.
While that's my opinion, we are all free to chose how we manage our lives, accordingly.
Though there is more to life than living on the Internet.
Every time I step out of my home, I savour every moment away as much as I do when returning home.
Writing a blog entry helps me to express my thoughts, and explore my feelings in a way which is more public than my private journal entries.
Although public opinion requires appropriate content, much of my private writing will not be exposed in this blog so as to preserve my peace of mind.
For self-disclosure of matters best left private has often been unsettling, and sometimes embarrassing to me.
Sometimes I even dread reading this blog after staying late the previous night, least I discover that one of my posts of the previous day contains something which might come back to haunt me.
That's easily solved by going to bed at a decent time, coupled with thinking long and hard about what I wish to write helps me to rest comfortably.
That blogging has helped me become aware of the difference between self and other is why I keep blogging.
If I wish to be helpful to others through this blog, then it's by expressing myself thoughtfully and with careful consideration of the fact that other people may be reading it.
Yes, I am careful about my choice of words when blogging, and admit to some self-censorship.
Other times, though, when the topic is abuse and violence, I will express my feelings strongly.
Life is too precious to wish the worst happened to other people — if I had done so in this blog, then I will find that entry and having regretted writing it, edit or delete it, depending on how I presently feel about the content I'd been writing.
If that's called being inconsistent, then I am guilty of it. If in the past I wrote something that insults someone or makes light of tragedy, then when I find it, I'll edit it to remain consistent with good taste. If this is self-censorship, so be it.
While that may sound politically correct, this blog would not be online long were I to step outside the boundaries of common sense.
With careful preparation, I like to blog to write it out — my thoughts and feelings about myself and others.
20110106
Sometimes Online Forums Feel Like Being in a Play
Jaques:
All the world's a stage,
And all the men and women merely players;
They have their exits and their entrances,
And one man in his time plays many parts,
His acts being seven ages. — As You Like It Act 2, scene 7, 139–143
All the world's a stage,
And all the men and women merely players;
They have their exits and their entrances,
And one man in his time plays many parts,
His acts being seven ages. — As You Like It Act 2, scene 7, 139–143
After four years of reading an online forum off and on, I've had the following epiphany.
An online forum is almost like a play with actors, both active participants and passive readers.
Each actor writes out their sparse dialog, but they all may have their own images of that play arise whilst interpreting the replies from other participants.
The minute a reader writes a response or makes an original post (OP), s/he becomes an actor.
Sometimes I forget that an online forum is not reality itself.
Yet what I write in a forum should often reflect the good that is found in real life, to balance out "the evil men do."
“The evil men do lives after them.
The good is oft interred with their bones,” — Julius Caesar (Roman general and statesman, 100-44 B.C.)
20061228
The Psychosis called Childhood
The behavior of someone on LSD and a small child are very similar. I believe that there is a naturally occurring "LSD like" chemical that we are all born with that wears off over a period of 16 to 25 years. During this time we call "maturing," it should be expected that the child will make really stupid and thoughtless mistakes. - Psychotic Kids
There actually is a substance in the brains of most people similar to LSD.
It's called DMT or dimethyltryptamine. It is similar in structure to serotonin.
"DMT is created in small amounts by the human body during normal metabolism by the enzyme Tryptamine-N-methyltransferase."
But the body quickly metabolizes it before we are aware of any effects.
However, perhaps in children, they may react to the brief moment when their brains are affected by DMT.
Hence the play of children where they talk to imaginary friends might be part of the normal "delusions" and "hallucinations" of childhood.
Thus mental illness and drug highs may be due to psychological immaturity, a side-effect of that inherent brief "psychosis" called childhood
There actually is a substance in the brains of most people similar to LSD.
It's called DMT or dimethyltryptamine. It is similar in structure to serotonin.
"DMT is created in small amounts by the human body during normal metabolism by the enzyme Tryptamine-N-methyltransferase."
But the body quickly metabolizes it before we are aware of any effects.
However, perhaps in children, they may react to the brief moment when their brains are affected by DMT.
Hence the play of children where they talk to imaginary friends might be part of the normal "delusions" and "hallucinations" of childhood.
Thus mental illness and drug highs may be due to psychological immaturity, a side-effect of that inherent brief "psychosis" called childhood
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