Tag Archives: emotional support

My Emotional Support Ambient Noise

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I need lots of emotional support. I get it from my husband. I get it from my cat. I get it from my bed, my pillow, and my blankets. I get it from my computer and my writing. I get it from music.

But I also get it from my television.

I need noise—some kind of noise—to keep me functioning until I go to bed. After that, I need no noise at all. Even the fans bother me. (Once I had to tell my husband, “Please don’t use power tools after I’ve gone to bed.” It was something I never thought I’d have to say, but there you are. Or there I was. But I digress.)

You’d think that television would produce the kind of noise that wouldn’t let me write. This is true of music, except for instrumental music. Music with vocals is just too distracting. Half the time I want to sing along. The rest of the time, the vocals are just too intrusive. (My theory, supported by neuroscience, is that my brain uses two areas when I hear vocal music—the part that recognizes language and the part that processes music. Combine the two and I have no brain left over for writing. But I digress again. Pedantically.)

Television, however, provides vocals but not much music, at least not the kind that invades my brain. And I don’t even really listen to the voices either, which I turn down not quite to a subliminal level.

How can I avoid hearing the voices? I put on programs I’ve watched a million times before, like Buffy the Vampire Slayer, Inkmaster, Chopped, Mystery Diagnosis, or Forensic Files. They rattle around in the background, but not in my brain. (Occasionally, I glance over at the screen if something really interesting is going on such as the critiques on the episode of Inkmaster when everyone was supposed to tattoo someone’s ass and they all tattooed the flank/hip area. “Doesn’t anyone know where the ass is?” asked Dave Navarro. But I digress some more.)

This may be genetic (the need for ambient noise, not the location of the ass, though come to think of it, that’s genetic too). Anyway, my mother used to crochet a lot, and she often had a baseball game on in the background with the sound turned low. She didn’t even like baseball. I can only assume that it provided her with the kind of comforting background noise that I like. I imagine that football would be too raucous and basketball would be too frenetic. She could have chosen golf, I suppose, but baseball it was, at least during the season.

Anyway, I spend most of my time at home, alone in my study trying to write or edit. When Dan comes home, there’s plenty of noise and it’s attention-grabbing, not ambient. If I’m still writing, he’s quiet, except when he goes in the living room and watches TV there, usually the Screaming and Explosions Channel.

So, why do I think of my programs as emotional support? The house is pretty quiet when I’m alone here, except for the faint clicking of my keyboard and the cat, who pussy-foots and busy-noses when he’s not asleep. Ambient noise keeps me from feeling lonely and imagining that any tiny sound is an impending disaster. Loud sounds made by the cat signal actual disasters. My ambient noise grounds me and marks the passage of time. And it’s a whole lot more soothing than power tools.

A Brief Guide to Gaslighting

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“You’re crazy. I never said that.”

“That’s not the way it happened. You’re crazy.”

“No one believes you. You’re crazy.”

“You’re crazy. You’re just overreacting.”

What do these statements have in common? Obviously, they involve one person telling another that she or he is crazy.

More subtly though, the speaker is saying that the other’s perceptions and feelings are invalid, untrue – wrong.

And that’s gaslighting.

Gaslighting describes a mind game that emotional abusers use to control their victims. (Gaslight is also an old movie, in which a husband uses the technique to try to convince his wife that she is insane.) The victim of gaslighting is usually a woman and the perpetrator usually a man. Of course this is not always true. Either sex can be the gaslighter and either sex the gaslightee.

Back when I was in college and extremely depressed, I had an experience of being gaslit. My grasp on reality was not entirely firm at the time, both because of the depression and because I was physically, socially, and emotionally cut off from the outside world, family and most friends. This isolation left the gaslighter, Rex, in a position of control.

I endured everyday denials of reality, like those mentioned above, but the most obvious one – the one that made me aware that I was being gaslit –happened when I suggested that we go for couples counseling. Rex asked if I was sure I wanted to, as he and the therapist could declare me a danger to self and others and have me put away. That, of course, was not true and I knew it wasn’t, which gave me my first clue that something was amiss.

When we got to the couples sessions, Rex tenderly held my hand and spoke of how concerned he was about me and how much he wanted to help me get better. In other words, he was saying that I was the crazy one and that he wasn’t. That is the very basis of gaslighting – to make the other person seem or possibly even become crazy.

Once a person recognizes the gaslighting for what it is, she can begin learning to trust her own perceptions again. This will not be easy. I know it wasn’t for me.

It took a long time and a lot of healing before I could recognize what had happened, how my circumstances had been controlled, how my perceptions had been invalidated – how I had been gaslit. That was a vast revelation. It was like turning the tube of a kaleidoscope and seeing a different pattern come into focus. The elements that made up my life may have been the same, but the new perspective changed everything.

Having someone outside the situation who can validate your perceptions is an important tool in recovery. Sometimes a friend or family member can perform this function, but mental health professionals who have been trained in the process are often more successful. They are the people we often turn to who can tell us we are not crazy, that our feelings are valid, and that the mind game of gaslighting has affected us.

With help, a person’s thinking becomes more clear, accurate, and trusted. Turning off the gaslight is like turning on a much more powerful kind of light – one that illuminates your life, improves your clarity of vision, and begins to break through the gloom and despair.

And that light is more powerful than gaslight.

 

A version of this post appeared earlier in my “Bipolar Me” blog (bipolarjan.wordpress.com). It proved so popular that I thought I’d share it here.

When Your Friend Is Depressed

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…And by “depressed,” I mean clinically depressed – the sort that has no apparent reason and lasts for weeks or even months. Your friend is not just sad, but feeling hopeless, helpless, discouraged, defeated. even immobilized. She or he may not want to go anywhere or do anything that used to bring happiness. You may even detect a dullness – called “flat affect” – in the person’s voice, a lack of animation, often combined with monosyllabic responses.

What can you do to help your friend?

At first it may seem like the answer is “not much.” And that’s partly true. What your friend really needs is probably help from a mental health professional and possibly from antidepressant medication.

There are, however a few things you can do to help your friend – and a few things you shouldn’t do, not because they will make your friend’s condition worse, but because they simply won’t help.

Let’s start with the things you can do.

Keep reaching out. Even if your friend doesn’t respond, refuses your invitations or doesn’t show up, know that the simple act of staying in touch says that you like the person even though she’s having a hard time and that you won’t abandon her. Make no mistake, many people will. Even if your friend is unable to respond, when she finally does get some relief from the depression, she will realize and remember who stuck by her during the depths. Surely you can spare a minute or two for a phone call or email a couple of times a month. You may think it won’t make a difference, but it will.

Offer to help with practical matters. If your friend has decided to get professional help, you can make doing that easier. You may not realize it, but the simple acts of getting up, dressed, and out of the house can seem insurmountable to him. Offer to drive him to his appointments or to the pharmacy to pick up his prescriptions. Give him a pill caddy to help him remember to take his meds every day.

Imagine your friend is physically ill. In a way, she is. The depression is a result of a neurochemical imbalance in her brain. What would you do if a friend were recovering from an illness or perhaps surgery, or even the death of a loved one? Bring her a hot meal once in a while or pick up an extra sandwich if you’re getting one for yourself? Offer to do laundry or another household chore? Enlist other friends to help? Pray for her healing and tell her you are doing so? None of this will make your friend magically well, but they can help her through the worst phases of a depressive episode while she’s waiting for medication to take effect (which may take as long as six weeks).

There are also some things that you shouldn’t do for your friend because they simply will not work. Here’s a brief list.

Don’t try to “fix” him. As much as you may care, you do not have the power to make it all better. Trying to do that will only frustrate both of you. Leave your psychological theories and miracle cures at home.

Don’t give “pep talks.” Telling your friend to snap out of it or to smile more or to think of others who have it worse will not alter his brain chemistry for the better. He most likely won’t be able to appreciate jokes and humor, either, even if he did before the depression.

Don’t expect quick results. Clinical depression lasts for weeks or months, or in some cases even years. It’s frustrating to see your friend suffering for that long, but if your friend sees you give up, she may too.

Don’t ignore suicidal talk. Suicide is a real risk for a depressed person, even if he is getting professional help. Most people who kill themselves give warnings – they talk about being better off dead or give away their possessions. Stay with your friend. Make sure he has the number of a suicide hotline. Call his therapist. Take him to an emergency room.

My advice for someone who lives with a depressed person is similar: Do what you can and realize what you can’t do. If you truly care about the person and stick with him or her through the bad times, you may find one day that you have your friend or loved one back – maybe not as good as new, but on the way to getting better.

That’s when you’ll find that all your efforts have been worth it. Helping a depressed friend survive and heal is an accomplishment not to be taken lightly.