lwveless:

fleabag’s fourth wall breaks being a metaphor for dissociation, and her doing them every scene EXCEPT when she has sex with the priest where she physically shoves away the camera. it being the first time in the entire show where she’s fully present in the moment… poetic cinema.

neoduskcomics:

First of all, if you are one of the people who responded to my last status update on DeviantArt, thank you very much for your support, and I’m sorry for not responding to your comments. I was in a very dark and panicked spot when I wrote that and, to those of you who asked, I assure you that, no, it was not a joke at the time. I regret writing and posting it, but you don’t exactly make the most rational choices when you’re in a state such as the one that I was in. In fact, you almost forget why you did it, or sometimes that you even did it, once you start feeling normal again. To some of you, that may seem overly dramatic and irresponsible, but I think there are some among you who probably understand what I mean.

Second, I have been having what has possibly been the worst week of my life (unless you count the couple of weeks where I genuinely almost killed myself a couple months ago, but what most people would consider the darkest moments were actually my most serene). The past eight days have been fraught with severe stress, panic attacks the likes of which I haven’t experienced since my first antidepressant went wrong, resurgent emotional trauma and, most recently, what was most definitely the worst stomach virus I’ve ever had in my entire life (which I probably contracted in my high stress levels). I did not mean to leave you all hanging for so long, but I was literally retching, moaning and geysering out both ends for four days straight. Only now have I finally begun to feel “normal” again, except I still haven’t made up any of the 10 pounds I lost in those few days of eating almost nothing, so apologies if this isn’t the most cogent or cohesive post.

After the past seven months of dealing with 26 years of undiagnosed, untreated depression and anxiety, a lot has come into my awareness. I feel like I understand some things a little better now, about stuff in general and also myself, though obviously I have a lot of learning and work left to do.

I think one thing I want to make really clear to anyone reading this is that I (almost) never do anything, at least when I am in the right mind, without any consideration or respect for the feelings or intentions of others, or consideration of my own intentions and actions, and how those might directly affect the people around me. As I’ve talked more and more with my current therapist (who I like much more than my last one, by the way), she’s helped me understand that I actually spend quite a great deal of time contemplating and reflecting on my thoughts and behavior, how they’re morally justified or unjustified, and how they impact both myself and others. I also spend a lot of time trying to understand how other people feel and where they’re coming from whenever they speak or act in a certain way.

And this isn’t to self-aggrandize, like, “Oh, look at how empathetic and sensitive this guy is.” I think it’s just something that I do. And while that can be a good thing, it can also be unhealthy sometimes when put through a certain lens or coupled with unhealthy behaviors. For example, I tend to be very self-critical and very hard on my own actions and thoughts, and when I spend so much time thinking about how what I do affects others with that attitude, it can end me up in a very self-destructive cycle. Likewise, when other people do or say harmful things to me, I can end up over-empathizing with them, finding it hard to ever blame them for hurting me or doing wrong by me, and instead internalizing whatever disparaging or wrong things they may say as the truth.

If you find yourself caught in a loop like this, it can be very harmful both to yourself and others, because if you think only horrible things about yourself, that negativity will find its way to other people, and then they will take that as evidence that you are, indeed, a negative person. This is especially true if those people have trouble understanding or empathizing with the feelings of others, and are liable to misconstrue your words and behavior. The negative perception they resultantly develop of you will then reinforce your horrible thoughts about yourself and so on. It’s just an endless, vicious cycle of smaller vicious cycles acting in tandem.

For example, my previous therapist (doing her best with what training and resources she had) took it on faith from my personal accounts that I felt I was manipulative and mean-spirited. I wasn’t (at least, that’s what my currently – more experienced and educated – therapist wholeheartedly believes), but that first therapist didn’t understand what the underlying feelings and thought processes to my words actually were, even as I struggled to explain them. So, she told me she thought I had borderline personality disorder. And, because I had no reason to doubt her and every reason to dissect and criticize myself, I did some surface-level research on the disorder and chose to believe her.

It took weeks of talking to my current therapist for me to accept that I don’t have BPD, and what a serious conjecture that is to make aloud to someone who’s suffering from mental illness. But communication is so difficult. So often do we say “A” when really we mean “B” or perhaps “A1” or “A but lowercase.” And it’s not even necessarily because we’re trying to obscure or dance around what we mean. Communication is difficult. It’s fraught with all kinds of assumptions both communicators have to or choose to make about the person they’re speaking with. There are so many coded words and phrases we use to mean one thing that could mean a million other things depending on how they’re taken.

Communication is also so important, because it’s the only way any of us can ever get anything done. But the thing about communication is that it takes at least two people trying their best for it to happen properly. One person can try to explain themselves and understand the other as best as they possibly can, but if the other person doesn’t extend that same effort, empathy and willingness to understand – or simply can’t for whatever reason – communication falters. Ideas become misconstrued. Patients get misdiagnosed. Relationships fall apart. Even tragedies may happen. Because communication, unfortunately, is tragically important for both society and an emotionally healthy spirit to function.

I posted a video about empathy a while back, and I want to address that a little further, because it’s related. Empathy is about trying to put yourself in someone else’s shoes, see things from their perspective and understand what they’re thinking and feeling. And yes, it can be hard depending on the people involved, their differing experiences and their differing situations. Sometimes, it’s just something some people struggle with. And while that may seem sad, it’s not really hard to see why it can be difficult. When people communicate, a lot of the time, people are not talking to each other, but at each other. They’re lecturing or deconstructing, but they’re not really, genuinely listening.

When someone says something to you, your first reaction may be to deliver a comeback, draw conclusions about what they said or try to take apart their words and evaluate them. But that’s not really listening, at least not empathetic listening. To really listen, to really try to understand another person, you have to genuinely take in what they’re saying. You have to try to get a feel for where they’re coming from, what they mean when they say the things they say, and what you think it means to them. This is what it is to actually try to understand someone else. Not to connect intellectually or verbally, but emotionally and spiritually.

And this concept may confuse many people: what exactly is the difference between drawing conclusions about and deconstructing what a person says, and trying to understand their perspective? They seem incredibly similar if not the exact same thing. But they’re not the same thing. If you’d told me any of this, like, a year ago, I would’ve probably blown it off as hogwash. But this past year has allowed me to experience trying to talk to people as a severely depressed person, talk to people about severe depression, and listen to very emotionally upset or even hopeless people. And I’ve learned that there’s a very vague but crucial line between comprehending and understanding when it comes to interpersonal communication.

That line can mean the difference between diagnosing someone with BPD and gaining further insight into the actual nature of their mental illness. It can be the difference between labeling something as evil or purely mean and seeing it as hurt or a cry for help. But that line is very, very hard to discern, and it can be even harder for people who struggle with things like understanding complex emotions and relationships. And unfortunately, for such people, crossing that line will often have much more disastrous and unexpected consequences. It’s not their fault, of course. It’s simply something that happens. Because communication, active empathy and human relationships…are hard. And they’re hard to explain and they’re hard to get right.

This also isn’t to say that we can excuse any severely poor behavior or horrible mistake simply because we can empathize with the person who perpetrated them. Actions and words must still have consequences, and those people must still deal with them. Many very, very bad or destructive people in the past have all had good intentions and tragic histories, but that doesn’t make what they did not terrible. And that doesn’t mean we have to tolerate it or even accept it.

What it means is that we should try. We should always try before we give up. On living. On people. On getting help. On ourselves. We should always, always try. Try as hard as we can. Because we’re worth the effort. Talking to people is hard. Getting help is hard. Doing the right thing is hard. Apologizing is hard. Accepting an apology is hard. Accepting that you may never get an apology is hard. Accepting that you may never understand something is hard. Dealing with loss or pain or trauma is very, very, very hard. But we have to keep trying.

And if you no longer want to try, I’m sorry. I really am. I’m sure you’re exhausted. I’m sure you feel like you’ve had enough. And I hope you find the strength and purpose to try again one day.

Also, please be kind to yourself. No one deserves your own empathy more than you.