From the Jungian Society of Atlanta website
Madam’s speech assessment went well, I think. “She obviously understands, she just can’t verbalize!” chirped the tester. Uh, yes, I know. But it was still good to get confirmation that she DOES understand; she CAN follow simple directions (especially if they are modeled for her). She just can’t seem to make the connection to speech.
TEG thinks she just doesn’t want to. Well, she is a mite stubborn, but…no. Judging from her level of frustration when I just don’t! understand! Her! I would say that she wants to communicate, she just can’t right now.
I know the feeling.
I've been trying to write, trying to post. But the only thing that comes out is just...blurgh. Whining of the rankest order. Maybe Shakespeare could create art from all that "woe is me." I can't.
I’ve done some reading about the Jungian notion of the Shadow. Most psychologists agree that we need to stop fighting those aspects of ourselves that we view with distaste and even hatred. That we need to sit down with them and discover what they have to teach us before we can be free.
Intellectually, I know this. But, action, as always, is harder.
Self-pity is my Waterloo, my black dog, my three-AM-in-the-morning-cringe-of-embarrassment. I try so many remedies—to talk sternly to myself (in the ‘bootstraps’ mode), to vent pages and pages in my notebook, to ignore, to distract.
Nothing. It appears this negative trait is here to stay, arms crossed, belligerent. I ask it, again and again, what do you have to tell me? How can I be rid of you?
In return I get a whiny litany that seems to narrow itself down to fun, and power. Both of which are currently in short supply.
So...fine, self-pity. You've had your day. I gave you every chance, tried to understand you, tried to reason with you, took you to bed and woke up with you. No more.
I am heartily tired of the sound of my own self-pity, and I refuse to give it voice here until it reveals its secrets. That's right...I am holding self-pity hostage!
Insert maniacal laughter here.
Labels: navel gazing