Mind The Sap

Errant ramblings, mostly.

Wednesday, April 26, 2006

My Word

"Anticipisorrow"

WHAT?
The sinking feeling that you aren’t quite worthy of the level of happiness you are experiencing, sometimes resulting in self-sabotage in order to partake in more familiar, comfortable emotions like: anxiety, grief and (gasp) despair.

WHO?WHY?
Mostly low-self esteem types, those with chronically low levels of serotonin, histories of depression, histories of periods of great joy (usually at a young age) followed by unanticipated loss.

WHEN?
Of all times, when one’s outlook on life is actually positive, serotonin levels are up, and one is maintaining stable relationships, participating in healthy activities, and exhibiting adjusted behavior. Stunningly, can occur just after great joy, accomplishment or period of mental quietude.

EFFECTS:
Inability to take pleasure in the moment due to constant worry about bittersweet-ness of said moment once it becomes only memory, vicious circle of emotional/personal dissatisfaction.

REMEDIES? Beyond SSRIs and MAOIs? Friends who understand, puppies, a little wine, poetry, God.

Galway Kinnell writes it up good...

“…and if you commit then, as we did, the error
of thinking,
one day all this will only be memory,

learn to reach deeper
into the sorrows
to come—to touch
the almost imaginary bones
under the face, to hear under the laughter
the wind crying across the black stones. Kiss
the mouth that tells you, here,
here is the world. This mouth. This laughter. These temple bones.

The still undanced cadence of vanishing.”

Thursday, April 20, 2006

Reality TV, the dre-way

I am still toiling away at my next-to-last overdue essay, but that doesn't mean I don't have time for over-the-top daytime television. Well actually it does, but a girl's gotta procrastinate, right?

For some reason, I cannot bring myself to watch any of those glittery high-energy, cliffhanger-type reality shows such as Great American Race or American Next Top Singer or Sex Object or whatever (I chalk it up to fear of commitment--its true). I am, however, able to sit through hours of compellingly-narrated programs such as "American Justice" or pretty much anything on either TLC or A&E, save for the makeover shows.

I am amused, mostly, by these shows' ability to showcase (for no one but myself) the relative ease with which I am persuaded. (I could never sit on a jury). "American Justice", for example, seems to follow the following formula when presenting a case:

a) in which shocking murder is outlined
b) in which police begin to investigate he or she who made initial call to authorities
c) in which it is almost certain that the mother/fiancee/husband did it
d) in which new evidence emerges to show that we may have been too hasty in our desperate need to assign blame to someone
e) in which, naw, they were just trying to stretch what little content they actually had to create an entire hour of programming.

So, I've seen a handful of these episodes (now apparently consciously aware that I know "whodunnit" before the first advertisment), and yet I can't pry myself away from the television after said advertisement. This is not simply because I am sent on the same rollercoaster of oscillating loyalty (Is the prosecution neglecting key evidence? Was that video a fair representation of the accused's state of mind?) each episode, but because of a more disturbing realisation...

After no less than two of these shows have made my eyes well up with tears, I realised that I didn't want to believe, at all that the accused had commited such heinous crimes. They were pretty. They were well-educated. They had nice homes and good jobs. They looked like anyone I might meet in the future. They looked and talked like some people I already know. (Da da daaauun).

So, like, I am totally caring now about television now. Its just that I'm more apt to think about the Texas mother on death row and whether or not she was served justice, when really I should be thinking about my undergraduate thesis, or at the very least, America's Next First Racing Apprentice. Or whatever. My brain is fried from essay'in.