STABILISE

Disclaimer: It is important to note that STABILISE is a work in progress operated by an educated woman with lived experience with bipolar disorder and computer scientists interested in improving access to practical knowledge, medical professionals, and crisis responders. We are building a mobile application that is designed to track moods and analyse text so help can be provided sooner. For medical advice, please consult your family doctor or a trusted health care practitioner. If you believe you are in need of immediate medical assistance and live in North America, call 911. Otherwise, please reach out to the Lifeline at 988 (by phone or text).

Tag: relationships

  • On Nausea

    Years ago, I stumbled across a memorable quote from Jean-Paul Sartre’s book, Nausea:

    “It’s quite an undertaking to start loving somebody. You have to have energy, generosity, blindness. There is even a moment right at the start where you have to jump across an abyss: if you think about it you don’t do it”.

    It is interesting to consider the initial moment when you recognize there is the potential to love somebody. I am not strictly talking about romantic love, but platonic love as well.

    Vulnerability can feel scary. To put yourself out there, to drop your guard, to show up with an open heart – these are tremendous tasks.

    It calls to mind Kierkegaard’s conception of the leap of faith in his book, Fear and Trembling. This is a logical comparison given that both Sartre and Kierkegaard were continental thinkers.

    In Fear and Trembling, Kierkegaard talks about the leap of faith, a decision that separates the knight of infinite resignation from the knight of faith. Basically, the knight of infinite resignation is the one who doesn’t jump. He approaches the precipice and is paralyzed by its depth and the potential for danger. In comparison, the knight of faith is the one who knowingly makes the leap.

    What I am learning is how to practice awareness while appreciating love’s capacity to inspire joy, peace, and gentleness. There is value in letting somebody in long enough to get to know them. Some people are beacons of light and arbiters of hope. They walk with you on life’s journey.

    It is not a perfect venture. Love is messy. It makes demands. It asks questions, hard questions, the sort that encourage you to take a good, long look at yourself in the mirror. There are conflicts, crises of conscience, and requests for compromise.

    All is well though when you choose to make the leap for those who allow you to feel safe and heard. Love is a communion between two beings who are committed to showing up for each other with respect, integrity, and dignity.

  • On Vulnerability

    In an interview Junot Diaz had with Identity Theory, he said:

    “You can’t find intimacy—you can’t find home—when you’re always hiding behind masks. Intimacy requires a certain level of vulnerability. It requires a certain level of you exposing your fragmented, contradictory self to someone else. You run the risk of having your core self rejected and hurt and misunderstood.”

    Beginning anything new is an exercise in vulnerability. The creative process is ripe with possibility and intrigue and fear. It requires one to accept the risk that Junot describes of “being rejected, hurt, or misunderstood.” While Junot is referencing two of his characters from The Brief Wondrous Life of Oscar Wao, what he has to say is reflective and thoughtful about what it is like to exist as a creative person in the world.

    Most of my creative decisions tend to be deliberate and careful. This may be what Junot means when he refers to “hiding behind masks.” While it is beneficial to care deeply about the research behind one’s work, there does come a point when one must attempt to create without the intellect. It was actually Anne Sexton who wrote, “Watch out for intellect, because it knows so much it knows nothing…”

    When I reflect on what she and Junot mean, I trace it back to vulnerability. The power of the intellect is forming a strong foundation with factual information. Information can construct a mask that prevents a person from saying or accessing the underlying truth behind what they are doing. Information can obstruct our desire to connect meaningfully with another person.

    For instance, there is a certain feeling that accompanies being truthful with a person about an experience. There is the fear of being misunderstood, the terror of not expressing one’s self correctly, and the pain of needing to confide. It is easier to speak in quotations or rely on what has already been done because it transfers the burden to another.

    In saying that, I reckon that a significant aspect of being a human in the world is accepting our “fragmented, contradictory self.” It is okay to make mistakes, to get it wrong, to bite our tongues, and to concede a point. Vulnerability requests this type of honesty. Isn’t it true we grow more when we are challenged?

    Intimacy is one of my challenges. I find that I am always seeking an external source to validate my emotional experiences. I am learning there is value in being able to define such an experience for one’s self. For me, intimacy is a sense of returning to one’s self, acknowledging internal truth values while respecting the narrations made by others. Vulnerability seems to be an acceptance of our imperfect natures and a willingness to express these imperfections without over-editing. The mask must come off sometime. Perhaps art is the chipping away.

    Sources:

    Interview with Pulitzer Prize winner, Junot Diaz

    Admonitions to a Special Person, Anne Sexton