How Growing Up With Wire Monkeys Added To My Self Destructive Behaviour

“The theory of learned helplessness was then extended to human behavior, providing a model for explaining depression, a state characterized by a lack of affect and feeling. Depressed people became that way because they learned to be helpless. Depressed people learned that whatever they did, is futile. During the course of their lives, depressed people apparently learned that they have no control.”
“Learned Helplessness“, Duen Hsi Yen (1998)

“Although we experience the world in bits and pieces, the sequence in which we experience them flows together and we feel the world around us in a continuous panorama. When we try to communicate about it, we have to break it down into bits and pieces. Perhaps a large part of our trouble starts there.”
“Communications: The Transfer of Meaning”, Don Fabun (1968)

“[Psychologist Harry Harlow’s revolutionary experiments on maternal deprivation] found monkeys who had soft, tactile contact with their terry cloth mothers behaved quite differently than monkeys whose mothers were made out of cold, hard wire.

“Harlow hypothesized that members of the first group benefited from a psychological resource — emotional attachment — unavailable to members of the second. By providing reassurance and security to infants, cuddling kept normal development on track.”
Original Source: Harry F. Harlow, “Love in Infant Monkeys,” Scientific American, 1959

“thanks for writing that and
helping me feel less retarded.”
a comment left by the incomparable “dw” on my last post

I think I need to expand a little on my last post. I think some of it has been misinterpreted and I think some of it was overlooked and I think it’s because I didn’t use enough words.

The post wasn’t meant to be about compliments and money, but those two issues were what most people concentrated on in their comments.

But the difficulty I have accepting, and especially believing, compliments and acknowledgements, as well as budgeting my income, are symptoms of something much larger. They’re not the disease.

Compliments, as I wrote in my comment on the post, do feel good. I do encourage them. I have received them in the past and I’m still alive and, without a doubt, better off for them. My problem is not being able to believe them, or to be able to accept them as they’re generally meant… as acknowledgement of having done something well.

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Posted in Bipolar, Bipolar Disease, Bipolar Disorder, Classic, Clinical Depression, crazy people with no pants, Diabetes, Family, Father, Granny, Health, Manic Depression, Poverty, Salted Truths | 17 Comments

Plans For My Blogging Anniversary And Someone Looking For Absolutely Nothing Finds My Blog

My second blogging anniversary is in November so my plan is to repost one of my favourite pieces once a week, probably on Friday’s, until the actual anniversary.

But not wholesale, the Super Special Second Salted Anniversary posts will have new content with a link to the archived post. The idea being I’d like to encourage people to read the conversations which were started last year or two years ago… and hopefully take part in them.

…if someone wanted to jump ahead they could take a look at the Excerpts From 100 Posts page… which almost no one seems to do. I actually asked and your grandmother said it would be good idea. Don’t you love your grandmother?

Actually a bunch of my blogversaries are coming up. Like October 16, 2006, which was when I actually joined WordPress by creating my first username and test blog, johnnytesting. Then there was the creation of my [redacted] username and blog, and [redacted] on November 15.

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Posted in crazy people with no pants, Health, Second Salted Anniversary, WordPress | 15 Comments

Still Self Destructing After All These Years

a spider for Thordora...

For the second time this year I have burned through my disability cheque before the second week of the month, so for the next sixteen days I’ll be eating 0.19 cent packages of monosodium glutamate and wondering where the food bank is in this town.

I knew it was happening while I was doing it, I even told myself out loud that it was happening again. But I refused to look at my bank account until Saturday night when I withdrew $40 and it left me with $18.46 until October. And just like the last time, and all the times before that, I’ve made my life infinitely harder than it should be and did it mostly on purpose.

This type of self-destructive behaviour has been with me for a long time. But while I was on welfare and living off student loans during the 90’s the lack of money hid the behaviour. I couldn’t help but be broke before the next cheque, because on welfare the cheques only gave me $120 ($4/day) to buy a months worth of food and toilet paper.

Then, when I was reporting in Ottawa and Toronto — but especially while I was working in public relations, the self-destructive behaviours would sometimes have me spending $2000 in eight days… but at that pay-level people are more capable of loaning money to their broke friends then if both of you are almost homeless. So the self-destructive behaviours were covered.

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Posted in Bipolar Disease, Bipolar Disorder, crazy people with no pants, Health, Living With Depression, Living With Manic Depression, ODSP, Poverty, Salted Truths | 24 Comments

No Post Day | Famous First Words

A friend of my family died on Thursday. He was a local psychiatrist and artist who helped a lot of people and did a lot of adventurous things in his life. He would’ve been 91 next week.

His family is scattered across the planet so the service won’t be until next weekend. I think it’s pretty likely there’ll be a headstone in the local cemetery but his ashes will be scattered someplace else… maybe back in his native England.

I’ll write more about him next week after the service… he did do a lot of interesting and experimental stuff in his lifetime.

But for now… something remarkable happened just before he died. His wife, an amazing artist and a close friend of my mom’s, had been looking after him at home because he wanted to pass on with dignity, and not in a white room someplace else, so she was literally at his bedside when he passed on.

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Posted in Bipolar Disease, Bipolar Disorder, crazy people with no pants, Health, No Post Day | 16 Comments

We Should Probably Keep Meeting Like This

I met some bloggers for brunch in Ottawa recently. This is the second time I’ve met people face-to-face who only know me through this blog, which is something I didn’t think I’d ever do again. I mostly went because I was invited by Zoom!, whose blog I really enjoy, and since there have been no night terrors since the brunch, I’d call the entire event a rousing success.

As a means of judging how far I’ve progressed in my recovery I’ve been really interested to find out how I’d act and react in a group of people, and finding out in a group of strangers seems to make more sense than surrounding myself with people I do know only to find out that, when it’s not my turn to speak, I drool.

The brunch was a lot more informal than I initially thought. When I was first invited I figured it would go one of two ways… either we’d be standing up and mingling so when I dropped my glass of orange juice it would have some time to build up momentum before crashing into the carpet.

Or we’d be sitting around a collection of tables and the discussions on either end would occasionally be interrupted as I, somewhere in the middle, would again and again drop egg-yolk into my lap.

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Posted in Bipolar Disease, Bipolar Disorder, Blogging, crazy people with no pants, Health, Salted Truths | 15 Comments

Unimproved Roads

I recently discovered there’s a road designation in Ontario called “unimproved road”. It basically means a trail wide enough for a car, but barely suitable for a horse-drawn cart or an all-terrain vehicle.

I had dinner with my friend Dean on Monday and afterwards we took a tour of the countryside, and there’s a lot of it around here. Basically the region of Canada I live in is the size of England but with a population which could fit in a medium sized airplane, so there’s a lot of open fields and forests.

Dean likes to go off on two or three hour drives and he has lived here for his entire forty years, so he knows where all of the unimproved roads are. Unimproved roads have basically been abandoned, they’re the original roads connecting villages which don’t exist anymore, or homesteads to their fields. The ones Dean took me down on Monday mostly started as dirt roads but soon after were virtually indistinguishable from the fields on either side.

Dean would spot one, even if it was the first time he had seen it, and just turn the wheel and start to explore. It’s a remarkable piece of the region that I don’t get to see often. We didn’t see any deer, which is what Dean was searching for, but we did see a young red fox who stopped when we stopped and didn’t seem to care about us in the least. It even posed for a picture.

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Posted in Bipolar Disease, Bipolar Disorder, Classic, crazy people with no pants, Friends, Health, Intervention, Living With Depression, Living With Manic Depression, Ottawa, Poverty, Salted Truths | 10 Comments