Wednesday, June 13, 2012

Watch out for that rock!

http://chroniclesoffibro.blogspot.com/2012/06/what-i-can-do.html#comment-form

I like this paragraph:

"From the earliest age humans seek acceptance from their peer group. It starts in kindergarten, maybe sooner. No kid in elementary school wants to stand out. They want to be just like their friends, for people accept what they have in common. By the time some venture to junior high standing out may not seem like such a bad thing, having watched all those kids morph into clones of the popular ones in their effort to gain this elusive acceptance. In high school kids splinter off into different groups based on their interests or circumstances. If I recall correctly the only ones who still think everyone wants to be just like them are living out their glory days in homeroom wearing letterman jackets. Hopefully most of the rest have gotten a clue by then. So considering this innate need for approval is it any wonder harsh criticisms are so hard to hear? I want it all back. Health, friends, financial stability, a job, reciprocal relationships where I don't take more than I give. And my innocence too. Believing life is somewhat fair, hard work and perseverance can conquer all of life's ills, feeling like I have something called control over my existence. So when I get a sanctimonious moron telling me how I should behave and respond to my challenges, well my reaction is not usually very pretty. Which has caused me to slash and burn personal and professional relationships with the aplomb of Keyser Soze. With all we face, who on earth has time for that? But I'm not gonna lie, it hurts. Not being understood sucks. Judged by trial and jury in the court of public opinion is painful. Not nearly as painful as Fibromyalgia, though."

I've thought about this lately.  I wrote once about being a 'slave' to my illness.  Wait, I'll be right back...

....OK, here it is:  http://debsisland.blogspot.com/2012/01/my-masters-name.html

(All right, spellcheck doesn't like 'blogspot'?  I've always thought blogger.com's spellcheck was a little strict, but 'blogspot'?  Not to mention 'internet'.  Come on, people.)

Anyway, illness isn't the only thing I'm a slave to.  And, chance are, you're a slave to this, too....

Human nature.

The 'wanting to be accepted' thing--I think it's hard-wired into us.  It is incredibly difficult to not care if people like you or not.  I'm lucky to have immediate family and children and a couple of online friends.  But we humans instinctively want to be in groups of people who don't mind us being there.  It's hard to ignore.  We're not supposed to be alone. 

It makes a certain amount of sense.  If I lived in the woods all by myself, who would take care of me if I injured myself?  Who would I trade with--I'd have to make everything myself.  It would be a much harsher (and most likely shorter) life.

And even if you live alone in the twenty-first century surrounded by technology, when the going gets rough it's very helpful to have connections to other people.  Do you need a job?  You're most likely to get a job, not through the want ads or the unemployment office, but through people you know.  Have a problem with a government agency?  Need to know who you can trust to fix your car?  Have to take an emergency (non-ambulance) trip to the ER?  Need somebody to watch your kids for an hour or two?  Want to move a piano? 

And just try being unpopular in school, or at work.  It's not any fun at all.

You need people.

Or lots and lots of money, with which you can pay for professional people.  After all, money is one of the chief ways we keep score--who's wonderfully acceptable and desirable, who's moderately acceptable, and who's....worthless.

Being acceptable means survival.  It means medical care when your sick, food when you're hungry, shelter, protection.  Being unacceptable is scary.  Your needs don't get met.  Maybe you don't even get to reproduce--another imperative your biology has stuck you with.  In some cultures being acceptable might be the difference between life and death--you could get burned at the stake, or stoned, or something.

And rejection isn't just painful, it's bad for your health (especially if you find yourself dodging rocks).  Some primitive part of your brain is no doubt trying to tell you, 'Hey, this is dangerous, you'd better make some friends quick.'  People who live alone or are isolated socially die younger, apparently just from the stress, if you believe the studies out there.  As stressful as life with our fellow human beings is, for most people it's even worse to be alone.  A lot of people aren't used to it, and experience a lot of anxiety if they're left to themselves.

We just can't escape our biology.

We feel compelled, in most cases, to find a mate and have children.  We can't help but notice the sexy actor or actress on TV.  We can't help but think babies are cute.  Most of us don't do the logical thing and leave them in the woods at 2 a.m. so we can get a decent night's sleep.

We feel compelled to think about chocolate cake. lol  We're pre-programmed to like sugar, probably because if our ancestors didn't eat that sweet piece of fruit every so often they'd end up with scurvy.  So it's 2012 and we eat chinese food until we're stuffed.  That's instinct.  (We also like the brightly colored fruit because we're pre-programmed to like pretty colors.)

The list could probably go on all day.  Drugs and alcohol?  Adultery?  Violence?  How much of that is instinctive, too?  My kids are lucky that my problems are mostly along the lines of kung pao chicken.

And it seems like most of child-rearing consists of a desperate (and only somewhat successful) attempt to teach kids some kind of control over their instincts.  Except for the instinct to mate and have kids of their own and not leave them in the woods.

The internet has replaced a lot of the 'need advice' function in my life. And I can be happy spending a fair amount of time alone--I'm just used to it, and frankly, trying to figure out who everybody is and where I'm at and what they're saying can be exhausting after a while. But there's still that pesky drive to periodically interact face-to-face with humans from time to time.

Who's in control here, anyway?  I am.  Sort of.  Barely at times.  But it is not easy to tell yourself, "You don't really need people around, and you don't need them to approve of you, that's just your biological pre-programming talking."


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