Wednesday, July 14, 2010

Hot People Don't Paint Themselves Into Corners

When I was a student, I learned a lot about behaviour change. That's basically what dietitians do, actually. We help people change one of the first (and therefore, most habitual) behaviours they adopt. If it was easy, I'd be out of a job. Or at least, that's what I tell my clients so they feel more at ease with me.

Well...the thing about hotness, I think, is that it's not really about the way I look. If it was just about that, I'd have stopped writing this long ago. Or at least, I'd have stopped around the time that I moved here...since my downstairs neighbour tells me on a semi-daily basis how good-looking I am. I do not tell him how much he looks like John Wayne's long-lost cousin from Hicksville in return, but I think it every time. Anyway, the hotness thing must really be about my behaviour and my attitude. And I know better than most how hard those things are to change.

Case in point: My discussion of my listing tendencies crossing wires with my romantic life really got me thinking about how the lists are kind of getting in the way of the rest of my life as well. Last week, I sat at home, mourning the fact that all of my friends had plans that night. In order to fill the time, I made another list. Actually, it's way more ridiculous than that. I filled in my brand-spanking new daytimer. Seriously. I spent my Thursday night planning each day of the next year of my life. And sometime midway through that evening, I realized that what I was doing was REALLY effed up. Really. This obviously made me really upset. I frequently lament the fact that I don't have the social life I wish I had. I don't think it's because I'm some socially inept creeper (although, I did spend 8 years doing intercollegiate competitive debate...so perhaps I'm entirely wrong about that). I think it could have something to do with the fact that when I get into a social situation (except, of course, when I'm already a little bit tipsy), I feel like I have nothing to add to the situation. When I realized this, I also realized that rather than keeping the daytimer as a contingency for a dry spell in my social life, I was doing it as an excuse not to get myself out there. This is a depressing notion, and I've been pretty sad lately as a result.

Let me tell you a seemingly unrelated story. I thought of it the same night, as I was chopping jalapenos to put in a delicious mango salsa. The last time (or at least the most memorable time) I was chopping jalapenos, I was home alone back in Halifax. I was making supper for me and my then-boyfriend who was working until 10 or so at a restaurant just around the corner. The knife I was using must have been kind of dull, because as I was chopping, jalapeno juice was flying everywhere. And a big juicy drop of it landed directly in my eye. I'm sure you can guess that the resulting pain was, well, excruciating. And I'm not even sure excruciating really covers it. It was...AAAAAAAUGH...pain. And I panicked. I didn't know WHAT to do. I grabbed an ice cube, stuck it directly on my eye, and staggered my way, depth-perceptionless, around the corner to the burger joint where my boyfriend was working. Since he was working for at least another half hour, and I felt as though this was something that needed to be dealt with immediately, I stole his tips for the night and grabbed a cab to emerg. I could have gotten the cab for free, as it turned out, because a girl holding ice to her eye and asking to be driven to the ER in the evening just begs to be pitied. Probably because she looks like someone's taken the boots to her, and not because she's a culinary dolt, though. When I got to emerg, the triage service asked what had happened and upon hearing my story responded with "Ouch, that's gotta suck." Yes, I thought, it sure does. Now please get me to some kind of eyewash station. Give me some kind of antidote to this burning, burning pain. I learned that night that there is, and I quote, "no medical treatment for jalapeno juice in the eye." This was the last straw. I turned, stomped out, possibly flipped the bird to the triage service for failing to take pity on me, and promptly began to sob. With the first teardrops to leave my eyes, the burning pain immediately subsided. Huh...so there's no MEDICAL treatment for jalapeno juice in the eye, but there is a perfectly natural, holistic treatment. Just start bawling.

As I was remembering this story, I realized I couldn't remember the last time I actually cried. I came very close, a couple of times, recently. Once was when a friend asked me what my favourite thing about myself was and I genuinely couldn't think of an answer. The other was when I considered that, though my current dating situation has hurled me into a kind of tumultuous tug-of-war with myself, it is immensely better than the given-up, dead-feeling person I was towards the end of my last relationship. And perhaps a good cry would be just the thing to release all this pent-up depression I've been feeling. But, I don't know if that would get to the root of the problem. I've got a (this time, emotional) burning feeling again, and I know something's gotta give if I'm going to get rid of it.

So here we are back at the daytimer. I feel like I need to break out of my protective shell of plans and lists. And I don't know how the heck to do it. I'm really not good at being impulsive, and when I am, it's usually not very good for me (I'm REALLY good at buying candy on impulse, for example). On the other hand, if I consider my romantic life - in an effort not to have that dead-feeling again I've been making a conscious effort not to do things the same way. In fact, I'm considering dating in ways I never, ever thought I would. See: not wearing the proverbial pants ALL THE EFFING TIME, and obviously, also, restraining from labeling and listing. And I think my strategies are working there, to at least some extent. Perhaps I can use this success to motivate me to change in other areas of my life. At least, that's what I'd suggest to my clients if I wanted to help them decrease their potato portion.

One thing I know for sure is that I have to break down some walls, or I'm never going to get out of this corner and get what I want.

1 comment:

  1. Two things:

    1. I don't want to call it a death wish, but it's sort of a death wish. I was thinking about this idea recently, with respect to myself, and with respect to some pretty dumb people I've encountered recently: most people who engage in negative behaviours - even ones they know are negative - secretly want to keep engaging in them.
    So, when it comes down to recognizing your flaws (for example, that I'm never going to get in shape if I don't exercise and eat properly), we make excuses, and then we justify the excuses by saying "I have a problem with making excuses for myself, so that excuses me from making those excuses."
    But really, it's because we don't want to give up our lifestyle, or our learned behaviours. The things that make us comfortable.

    Okay, that example isn't exactly as deep as it could have been. I avoided using a real personal example, because I don't want to acknowledge one, because I don't really want to change. See what I mean?

    2. I don't know if this is what you were talking about, but I'm no stranger to running into those situations where you feel like a good cry would be just the right amount of catharsis, and then it's all you can manage to squeeze off one tear at best.
    It's the emotional equivalent of constipation, or a bladder infection, or (I assume) doing it with someone who's habitually 'early.'

    I don't know think it can be completely based on some kind of suppression/repression - cause really... not that much happens to me. Maybe that's the problem.

    I'm reminded of my faaaaaavourite Chuck Palahniuk book, "Choke" in which the main character goes to restaurants and chokes on purpose in order to get strangers to 'save him' - and then when he's being held in their arms, it's the only time he can really cry.

    And it wouldn't matter what you were crying about. You just need to do it, to release all the boohoo energy hiding in your chest region (That's where it hides. I promise).

    When it comes to breaking free of your secret deathwishy habits that keep you from doing things... All I know is that after my last huge breakup, I was a lot more adventurous. I went to parties, I was excited to be involved in things that weren't related to the relationship. I did things differently.
    However, once you're free of those old habits, you just make new ones.

    I think it always takes something jarring to snap you out of it. The kind of thing that's actually worth a good cry.

    /response as long as original blog.

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