This post is my take on how to survive in this world. I say this because in my adult life, I have tackled great difficulty either by providing value to others, or digging deep into reserves of meaning, i.e. unconditional love. In other words, your two biggest allies are
1) understanding those around you: What needs are universal? Every person is different and yet the majority of people subscribe to Maslow’s hierarchy. Is this social situation one you’ve seen before or do you need to re-characterize from scratch? Does this selection of people have a common unifying goal or share special skills that should be addressed? Who in the room holds a position of power? Who desires to be heard?
and
2) knowing yourself: sleep schedule, favorite foods, exercise habits, great passions, work that feels effortless. Without judgment, what patterns does my brain identify as a danger to my personhood? Is this an overreaction to what’s happening or is my amygdala screaming for good reason?
The only good quote to come out of Ender’s Game was in the foreword:
“Human beings may be miserable specimens, in the main, but we can learn, and through learning, become decent people… a group of human beings, who not through genetic change, but through learned skills, are able to understand and heal the minds of other people.”
– Asimov
Reading this was an unsuspecting turning point in my personal development. I’ve always considered myself to be a miserable person. The cool part is that it’s okay. Natural inclination is to be tapped into and wrought while iron-hot. To plunge headfirst into the lava is the equivalent of repeatedly dipping myself into the most terrifying, taxing, vulnerable situations — so that I may change my behavioral response over time. The result of this practice is the ability to sit with the hellish emotional landscape that I experience every day, as an adult; but without drowning. From there, I have more control. I still have the same initial pullback: the desire to run away, anxious-avoidant love style, all-or-nothing drama… and then my life experience kicks in to save my ass. This is not “growth mindset”: this is crisis intervention training.
What does it mean to be learned? Educated? I would argue it doesn’t eliminate the carnal knee-jerk side of the human experience. It’s the coexistence of understanding.
So all I need to do to live well is to pursue what I don’t know, huh? That’s not the end of my case…
More knowledge doesn’t always correspond with better survival rates. Whether you’re street smart or book smart, it will either serve you or enslave you. This is where interpersonal skills are crucial. Just as I have mentioned above, you must know the enemy as well as you know yourself. We contain multitudes, and yet many aspects of personality stay the same over a lifetime. Once recognized, a trait becomes an object that everyone can interact with. This is what owning your identity means.
In addition, knowledge can at times be painful and burdensome. For example, would someone with an uncurable terminal illness live a fuller life if she had been diagnosed in its later stages rather the beginning? Some things stand immobile, independent of how the mind perceives it.
All of this to wax poetic. Just like my professors at Brown criticized top-down analysis and advocated grassroots observation in business case studies… well, I’m not in school any more and I can do what I want. I want analysis done in a way that makes sense to ME.
Ah, now that I’ve cleared the conceptual headspace—here’s more of the nitty-gritty. This is my advice for mental resilience in hostile environments. I present three situations that may not seem antagonistic but will reveal themselves for various reasons.
1. Basketball
It was my eighth grade year in high school and I was on the Thirds— lowest tier— basketball team. In our final game against our rival school, the girls at Marks made it their mission to constantly trip me and choke me. I didn’t realize at that time it was perhaps because I was the only girl on the team who could score points. In that moment, I could only cry out of what I believed was unfair. None of my coaches told me to get back up. The bullies had succeeded. If I had understood that the bullying occurred because of my value, I would stand stronger.
2. Dressing in the Hospital
The first thing to leave you during your treatment is your sense of style. Naturally, as that would make you… a person? With an identity? You wouldn’t dare…
You wear these open back johnnies and rubber socks that make the men on the unit ogle. Naturally, as overzealous as my mother is, she would drop off bags and bags of nice, soft, warm clothing such that I could sense jealousy from the other patients. Of course my mother wanted me safe and comfortable, but it really made me a target on the unit.
Context is everything. I didn’t understand why my father was so financially sound and yet dressed so poorly. I didn’t understand why he told me to purposely appear ugly and deemphasize my appearance so I could complete my university studies. Shiny can mean trouble. I get it now.
3. Baba
Speaking of fathers, the final boss for daughters is always their dads. I’ve begun to play pickleball and I met another girl who still lives within the framework of her dad. “I’ve never beat him before,” she admitted.
That was me when I was eighteen. He was a great compass for how to stay out of generic trouble, until we had to tackle schizophrenia, together.
To this day, I still live in fear of my dad. It’s an odd combination of love and protection and sheer terror. As I live at home, I have to come to terms with not owning anything I use, and for privileges to be stripped away at any moment. Sometimes I make him out to be the bad guy, the instigator: I would rather circle any false bullseye out of the moments where I am torn white-faced from my bedroom, or sedated and pinned by a whole team of gloved masked “technicians” — that they are all bad — to make sense of the trauma… but the truth has distilled. In the moments when I am fighting for my life… There are agents who are fighting for my life, too. My dad is on the front lines of that war.
You’d think that believing in good makes you naive. I think cooperation wins.
The epilogue
A new friend of mine has been sharing his grief at the early death of his mom and it really hit me how fragile and tenuous life really is.
We’d like to say that THIS TOO SHALL PASS because every moment has a beginning and end. Surely, there must be a finality of reprieve?
It’s possible that it may. Or it may not.
And so the world expands a little, contracts a little.
Breathing from gravitation to collapse.
MISCELLANEOUS ADVICE
How do I presume as a mentally ill woman in her mid-20s?
Date.
Is Morality tied at all to survival?
Yes.
Does responsibility make you stronger or weaker?
Surrounding yourself with people who rely on you is a great way to root yourself in your community. Responsibility can grow you a backbone. However, as much as family and friends love you, preoccupation does not make you immune to mental ailments. Ultimately, it’s all about what you want from your few years on this Earth, in the face of adversity. RIP Stephen TWITCH Boss.