Self pity

I have no idea what I'm doing. 

I am often wrong, I am often confused, I am often basing my opinions on outdated or wrong ideas, or inaccurate perceptions or bad information. 

These perceptual and epistemological shortcomings are compounded by a set of entrenched character defects that are my default way of trying to protect myself from hurt or threat. Bill W wrote in the 12 Steps and 12 Traditions: "The chief activator of our defects has been self-centered fear-- primarily fear that we would lose something we already possessed or would fail to get something we demanded." (p. 76).

a scarlet Ibis. a little blurry. saying "it's not very complicated"

Yesterday, I started the day with a nearly totally unconscious, fierce, aching, chronic desire and longing for the company of someone who is distant. I think part of the reason I wasn't even aware of my longing was that I *always* want the company of this person, these days-- it is a persistent feeling of just never being able to get enough. Much of the time, I am able to turn it over to the larger container of faith that everything will be all right and that it can help to dive more into my ordinary life-- simple things, like cleaning the floors, taking a walk, reading, meditating-- or more complex tasks, like grading, or working on my dissertation proposal, etc. But, for whatever reason, I lacked all perspective and sense of proportion yesterday. 

And it was especially haunting because I was completely unable to determine with any accuracy or clarity exactly what was dragging me down and down. The feeling state was just one of deep sadness and weird, unattached nostalgia. I'm prone to these moods in autumn anyway, and sometimes they just wash over me like a tsunami and I have no ability to find a place to put my feet.

One of the big feeling states that arises in me as a result of self-centered fear is self pity, a kind of co-creator with fear. The prospect of losing something I already possess can cause self pity. The prospect of not getting something I desperately want causes self pity. Of course, self pity itself takes on a variety of forms. It might look like anger, resentment, jealousy, sadness, "romanticism" of the Goethe-esque, Sorrows of Young Werther kind, hatred, suspicion, fear, etc. In the work of becoming more emotionally sober and more self aware of emotion, I have learned powerfully that there are some deeply causal elements-- self-centered fear or self pity-- and there are symptoms-- anger, sadness, etc. The work is essential for me. It reminds me of this funny little saying that floats around AA: "Poor me, poor me, poor me, pour me another drink."

Generally, self pity has a few recognizable symptoms that are common to whenever it rears up. Negative self talk-- "You are such a fucking idiot, why have you gone and allowed yourself to be so vulnerable so soon after having been so hurt? She finally realized what a waste of time you are and rightfully has turned her attention to more imporant things. You are a sick fucker. So weak and codependent. Is it any wonder she doesn't want to have anything to do with you? Why don't you fucking step up and be a REAL man?" It's always eye opening for me to write down the thoughts I have when that voice is working in my head. When those demonic and hateful insults are in black and white, it's jaw dropping how "normal" and familiar such internal statements are, running in the background of my life. It's funny how I have successfully removed other people who might have talked to me like that, but the introjected hater is still sometimes very much in my mind. 

Another symptom of self pity is destructive impulses. Self-centered fear arises because I don't think I will get what I want (in this case, the love and attention of this person) and then self-pity sets in. In the midst of the feeling, and mostly to try to find relief from the pain, I sometimes have powerful impulses to isolate, lash out, tear down the structures of trust and intimacy that have taken a long time to build, get angry, accuse, sulk, act out. 

Another symptom is to get into extreme efforts to control the other person or the entire situation. Even while my fierce longing for this person was unconscious in me yesterday, I kept having these fantasies of just ditching the PhD program, moving to where this person lives, completely turning over the apple cart, just to have a greater feeling of control. I had no clear idea why I was having these wild impulses. There's nothing necessarily wrong with changing one's life to be with someone, but when it arises out of a desperate desire for control, it's toxic af. 

Performing sadness publicly on social media is another symptom. Posting sad songs, sad poems, projecting darkness. Again, nothing wrong with going into sadness in order to grieve, cathart and heal. But the ego display of bleeding out is an ineffective and maddening cul de sac.

Yet another set of symptoms of self pity for me is that I puff myself up, demand more recognition, demand to be taken seriously, a sort of "do you not know who I am?? A man of my caliber!!" egotism. This especially happens when I feel someone is actively depriving me of something I feel I deserve or that would boost my look good. In the case of my love for the person in question, I have periodic overmastering desires to shout to the entire world what I feel for her, and sometimes that desire arises out of joy and a natural urge to share great news, but other times, I have seen that it arises out of my ego-- yet another control strategy, a way of marking territory, or a way of boosting my look good, because this person is smart, funny, beautiful and sexy and I still can't believe sometimes that she's even halfway interested in me. 

There's probably more symptoms but damn it all, that's enough for now, eh?

I went to my usual Wednesday AA meeting after a whole day of this misery and soon after arriving got almost instant clarity. This often happens to me. And, as is often the case, the root of my troubles was self-centered fear and self pity, and all of the defense mechanisms and armor that I don as a result. The very simple fact was this: I was sad not to be able to spend the day with a person I love. That's it, at the root. 

My goal now is to be able to recognize such simple things and then admit them. "I miss you and I wish we could be together." Or to get even a little more honest: "The degree to which I have strong feelings for you terrifies me sometimes. It feels like there is a lot at stake for me in loving you. I am afraid I will be hurt. It actually feels like I could be destroyed. I know that's not accurate, but that's how it feels." Because it was not just that I missed this person and wanted to spend the day with her. It was also that this feeling was so magnetic, so intense and so all-consuming that it was forcing me, against my will, to face how attached I am and how vulnerable I feel. 

These awakenings are capable of moving me from the morass of self pity to the healing of self compassion. I can start to take good care of myself and calm my fears. Once my fear that I am going to lose this person or not get to be with this person subsides, the entire scaffold of ineffective self protective strategies crumbles. 

This goes directly back to my concept of a power greater than myself. I am not able under my ordinary steam to turn in that deeply shifting way, from the terror of loss to a peaceful acceptance that everything is exactly as it is and there is nothing I can do about it. This shift only happens for me on that ground of faith, that mystery that there is some kind of something essential happening that I am merely a part of-- and that "all I have to do" is let go and show up. (A condition of complete simplicity, costing not less than everything, said good old Tommy Eliot).