The Outliers
Last night a friend and I were discussing the whole nature versus nurture question ~ how these two basic parameters affect self-identity. The seemingly obvious answer is that it is both ~ a person's nature interacting with his/her environment. Yet this answer does not explain the outliers. There are those who were raised in relatively normal environments whose siblings turned out to be well-adjusted, productive adults, and yet are themselves a total mess. Is the brain chemistry just so off that the environment couldn't over-ride some underlying malfunction? On the flip-side, are those who came out of a horrible environment, one that would surely turn most people into a self-destructive lunatic, and yet they are rational, effective individuals.
The outliers.
It seems a pretty solid theory that those that can't function well in society, but came from a relatively normal environment probably do have some issues with their intrinsic brain chemistry. The plethora of medications that affect neurotransmitters, and the frequently positive results that arise from their use, supports this idea.
So back to the puzzle of the outliers at the other end of the spectrum ~ those who should be batshit crazy because of their life experiences, but are well-functioning, sane individuals. In fact these individuals often exude rationality. They, in particular, fascinate me.
As I was mulling the subject, it occurred to me that some people hang on to their pain. I don't mean merely hang on to the knowledge of the trauma and the lessons learned from it; but actively hold on to the pain itself. They continually acknowledge its existence, at times wallow in it. It is ever fresh, even if the precipitating experience is decades old. An extra burden that drags them down, muting the joys that may be in abundance in their everyday existence. It becomes an old, familiar friend.
Why? I have wondered if when the source of someone's pain is a person close to them, someone they have loved, like a parent or a spouse, if feeling the pain seems better than feeling nothing at all. A contorted way to feel close to the person. To keep some part of a relationship alive that should have been swept into the past long ago.
The problem with this is that if the relationship is ongoing, like with a parent, holding on to the pain never allows the relationship to progress past the point where the trauma occurred, for either party.
The outliers who come out of an awful childhood seemingly unscathed must be champs at putting past pain in the past, no doubt remembering lessons learned, but removing it emotionally from their current existence. It doesn't become part of their self-identity. The bad things they've endured are separate from who they are. Quite simply, they have learned how not to own the pain, or perhaps more importantly, have learned how not to allow the pain to own them.
The outliers.
It seems a pretty solid theory that those that can't function well in society, but came from a relatively normal environment probably do have some issues with their intrinsic brain chemistry. The plethora of medications that affect neurotransmitters, and the frequently positive results that arise from their use, supports this idea.
So back to the puzzle of the outliers at the other end of the spectrum ~ those who should be batshit crazy because of their life experiences, but are well-functioning, sane individuals. In fact these individuals often exude rationality. They, in particular, fascinate me.
As I was mulling the subject, it occurred to me that some people hang on to their pain. I don't mean merely hang on to the knowledge of the trauma and the lessons learned from it; but actively hold on to the pain itself. They continually acknowledge its existence, at times wallow in it. It is ever fresh, even if the precipitating experience is decades old. An extra burden that drags them down, muting the joys that may be in abundance in their everyday existence. It becomes an old, familiar friend.
Why? I have wondered if when the source of someone's pain is a person close to them, someone they have loved, like a parent or a spouse, if feeling the pain seems better than feeling nothing at all. A contorted way to feel close to the person. To keep some part of a relationship alive that should have been swept into the past long ago.
The problem with this is that if the relationship is ongoing, like with a parent, holding on to the pain never allows the relationship to progress past the point where the trauma occurred, for either party.
The outliers who come out of an awful childhood seemingly unscathed must be champs at putting past pain in the past, no doubt remembering lessons learned, but removing it emotionally from their current existence. It doesn't become part of their self-identity. The bad things they've endured are separate from who they are. Quite simply, they have learned how not to own the pain, or perhaps more importantly, have learned how not to allow the pain to own them.