Emotional processing
Nov. 13th, 2009 01:30 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
jaunthieSome people are very good with emotions; their own, other people's, or both. They understand a lot about how emotions work. Some of this is natural aptitude, or as the teaching community has it, "high emotional IQ"; but there's also the time and effort some people put into studying them and learning about them, through reading and observation and internal questioning. It's a complex subject, one that can consume years of study and hard work and still leave lots of unanswered questions and much ground still left unexplored.
I admire those people. I also admit I am not one of them.
Years ago, I acknowledged the easily recognized fact that emotionally speaking, I'm just not that intelligent. I'd say my emotional intelligence is on the low end of average, at best. And since, like most people, I don't like doing things I'm not good at, I haven't been naturally inclined to study emotions, either. Oh, I've been able to compensate for that lack of emotional intelligence to some degree, by a lot of hard work (and let's be honest, through getting whacked over the head with the clue-stick again and again over the years until some of it finally took), but it's never been something I'm particularly good at, and I doubt it ever will be.
Which leaves me something at a loss when trying to cope with, well, loss.
I am still emotionally processing the death of my beloved kitty Jacques. I took Tuesday off from work, as I felt highly disinclined to burst into tears at random intervals in front of my co-workers. (The crying was going to happen, and did indeed happen. With rare and few exceptions, I don't cry in front of other people if I can possibly avoid it. It's an ugly scene, and I don't trust most people that much.) I was back at work on Wednesday, but I did my best to avoid my co-workers whenever possible. I knew that I was far more moody and irritable than usual, and I didn't want to risk engagement with others and possible blow-ups. Generally speaking, I've been rather more withdrawn with everyone this week than is usual even for me. I've been extremely tired without cause (well, without any other cause), needing lots more sleep than usual. Physically I know I'm showing other signs of stress, too. I've also been pretty much a failure in regards to NaNo word count the last few days; the spirit just isn't in it. I've had crazy-busy work weeks during NaNo before, and I've always been able to write through them. This time, not so much. Yes, the crazy days at work aren't helping, but I'm pretty sure most of it ties right back into this loss and the amount of energy it's consuming as I try to cope with it.
This isn't terribly surprising to anyone, I know, not even me. I know that it takes me a LONG time to process major negative emotional events, and that this is a big one. (Anyone who thinks that losing a pet isn't a big emotional deal has my permission to stop reading and go away right now.) But I don't really know what's going on under the surface, or how long it will affect me this noticably.
It took me years to process the death of my great-grandmother to the point where I could really feel it and work with it, way back when I was a teenager. On some level, I'm still processing the deaths of two of my grandparents, even though those deaths occurred years ago. I don't really know what is still left to process, or when it will be done, or even what exactly is going on. I just know that there's still issues being worked on in regards to both deaths, somewhere under the hood, deep in my subconscious or wherever it is that these things get hashed out. Someday, sometime, the processes will finish cycling, and I'll probably learn something about myself at that point or shortly thereafter. I'll need to deal with the leftover grief and other emotional baggage that pops out, whenever that day comes. I don't understand it at all, but at least I know that the processing is still underway, and that the day *will* come.
That's about as smart as I get when it comes to my emotions at this level. Part of me thinks that it's odd that I'm not more aware of what's going on inside my own head, or that I'm not more curious about it. I'm pretty intellectually curious about most things. I like to think, I like to plan ahead, and I get really annoyed when I don't understand something.
Except, it seems, when it comes to my deep-level emotions. I am vaguely curious about them, yes, or I probably wouldn't be writing this post. I am certainly aware of my own lack of understanding and knowledge in this space. But for me, this area is marked very clearly "Terra Incognita" and "Here Be Dragons" in huge, blood-red, Old-English Gothic script, and apparently at some level I'm okay with that. I don't know why. Maybe it's because somewhere deep down I don't believe emotions are logical or understandable, so it's okay that I don't understand them. (This is manifestly not true in many respects, but it is so for me, so maybe it's a self-fulfilling prophecy in my case.) Maybe it's because I don't want to experience grief or loss or any of these big negative emotions, so I don't look into them too closely. (Just because my heart has gone and jumped off an emotional bridge doesn't mean my brain has to go there too, right?) Maybe it's because I don't like acknowledging things I can't control. (If I refuse to pay any attention to it, maybe it'll just go away, AKA the Giant Bug-Blatter Beast of Trall defense.) Maybe it's because my skill-set is limited due to my lack of emotional IQ, and as mentioned before, I don't like doing things I'm not good at. (Hey, if I were meant to understand these things, I'd have been given a bigger and better toolbox to work with.) Or maybe it's a relief to have one area in my life where it's okay not to be in control of everything. (The boss-lady gets a day off!)
Well, okay, probably not that last one. I'm too much of a natural control freak for that to be terribly likely. But it's probably a combination of the rest of those things, plus several more that haven't even occurred to me yet. But as I said, I just don't know, and I don't think I'll ever know. However, if any of you reading this have better toolkits than I do and/or feel like sharing your own insights, feel free to share. I'm not adverse to learning more, even if I'm skeptical that I'll ever learn enough to be competent in this arena. That's not defeatist, by the way; it's just an acknowledgement that the subject matter is too broad, and my own energies, talents, and interests mostly lie too far elsewhere, for me ever to gain mastery - at least not unless my priorities really change.
Another thing I'm at a loss to know is how to go about telling people that Jacques is gone. Blogging about it seemed like a natural way to disseminate this information to those people who read this journal. Besides which, it allowed me to write about him, which helped a lot. I'm a writer; it feels natural for me to write about these things, whether in a journal or another format.
However...I have at least two good friends whom I know do not read this blog. It's not that they don't know that I have one, or that they don't have the address. I've sent them both links to this site in the past. One of these people simply won't read blogs, for a complex set of stated reasons that essentially boil down to a lack of time and a genuine strain on a limited resource. I understand her reasons, and can even sympathize with them, even when it kind of annoys me on a base, selfish level. (Evil self: Hey, I put the information out there at least in part to help keep interested folks up to date with my life and what I'm thinking; if you're interested, why aren't you reading it?) The other friend is a beyond-workaholic who makes me feel like a complete and utter slacker. Her work keeps her insanely busy all the time, to the point where sleeping and eating are squeezed into random, not-frequent-enough corners, and she's got a family to take care of on top of that job. She literally does not have hours enough in the day for everything she needs to do, so I can't exactly resent that she does not spend time reading the ramblings I post here. (Although, quite selfishly, I can and do resent the fact that she is kept so perpetually busy by her job, and wish that she had more time for herself and the people who care about her.) There are probably other friends and family members who don't read the blog regularly if at all, too.
So how do I go about letting these people know that my cat has lost his fight with cancer and is no longer with us?
That's a stumper, at least so far. It seems really awkward - to me, anyway - to just call them up out of the blue and say "hey, just wanted to let you know that Jacques died." Among other things, I don't want to let them know anything of the sort. Yes, he died, but I still get teary and choked up talking about it. I don't WANT to talk about it, and certainly not inform someone over the phone of the fact of his passing. I want them to know, don't get me wrong. It feels rude on some level that I haven't informed them, and I'm aware that the more time that passes between the event and their learning about it, the more potentially awkward it's going to be. But I still don't want to have to tell them over the phone, and who knows when I'll get the chance to see them in person. (Well, in one case, I'm almost certain to see her before the month is out, but still.)
That's a problem. I haven't figured out a solution for it yet, clearly. What is the etiquette of notification of death? For people, it used to be put an obituary in the paper for the general public, and send out invitations to the funeral or memorial service, not to mention calls or letters or something to family and friends. (I'm not really that acquainted with the etiquette of death, which is probably part of the problem.) Maybe if you're really formal, you send out black-edged envelopes with a formal annoucement of death, regardless of memorial service - but again, that's for people.
What is the etiquette for notification of the death of a pet? I don't think Miss Manners covers this. Even if she does, I haven't seen her advice on it, and I'm not really the Miss Manners type anyway. Anyone have any ideas?
I admire those people. I also admit I am not one of them.
Years ago, I acknowledged the easily recognized fact that emotionally speaking, I'm just not that intelligent. I'd say my emotional intelligence is on the low end of average, at best. And since, like most people, I don't like doing things I'm not good at, I haven't been naturally inclined to study emotions, either. Oh, I've been able to compensate for that lack of emotional intelligence to some degree, by a lot of hard work (and let's be honest, through getting whacked over the head with the clue-stick again and again over the years until some of it finally took), but it's never been something I'm particularly good at, and I doubt it ever will be.
Which leaves me something at a loss when trying to cope with, well, loss.
I am still emotionally processing the death of my beloved kitty Jacques. I took Tuesday off from work, as I felt highly disinclined to burst into tears at random intervals in front of my co-workers. (The crying was going to happen, and did indeed happen. With rare and few exceptions, I don't cry in front of other people if I can possibly avoid it. It's an ugly scene, and I don't trust most people that much.) I was back at work on Wednesday, but I did my best to avoid my co-workers whenever possible. I knew that I was far more moody and irritable than usual, and I didn't want to risk engagement with others and possible blow-ups. Generally speaking, I've been rather more withdrawn with everyone this week than is usual even for me. I've been extremely tired without cause (well, without any other cause), needing lots more sleep than usual. Physically I know I'm showing other signs of stress, too. I've also been pretty much a failure in regards to NaNo word count the last few days; the spirit just isn't in it. I've had crazy-busy work weeks during NaNo before, and I've always been able to write through them. This time, not so much. Yes, the crazy days at work aren't helping, but I'm pretty sure most of it ties right back into this loss and the amount of energy it's consuming as I try to cope with it.
This isn't terribly surprising to anyone, I know, not even me. I know that it takes me a LONG time to process major negative emotional events, and that this is a big one. (Anyone who thinks that losing a pet isn't a big emotional deal has my permission to stop reading and go away right now.) But I don't really know what's going on under the surface, or how long it will affect me this noticably.
It took me years to process the death of my great-grandmother to the point where I could really feel it and work with it, way back when I was a teenager. On some level, I'm still processing the deaths of two of my grandparents, even though those deaths occurred years ago. I don't really know what is still left to process, or when it will be done, or even what exactly is going on. I just know that there's still issues being worked on in regards to both deaths, somewhere under the hood, deep in my subconscious or wherever it is that these things get hashed out. Someday, sometime, the processes will finish cycling, and I'll probably learn something about myself at that point or shortly thereafter. I'll need to deal with the leftover grief and other emotional baggage that pops out, whenever that day comes. I don't understand it at all, but at least I know that the processing is still underway, and that the day *will* come.
That's about as smart as I get when it comes to my emotions at this level. Part of me thinks that it's odd that I'm not more aware of what's going on inside my own head, or that I'm not more curious about it. I'm pretty intellectually curious about most things. I like to think, I like to plan ahead, and I get really annoyed when I don't understand something.
Except, it seems, when it comes to my deep-level emotions. I am vaguely curious about them, yes, or I probably wouldn't be writing this post. I am certainly aware of my own lack of understanding and knowledge in this space. But for me, this area is marked very clearly "Terra Incognita" and "Here Be Dragons" in huge, blood-red, Old-English Gothic script, and apparently at some level I'm okay with that. I don't know why. Maybe it's because somewhere deep down I don't believe emotions are logical or understandable, so it's okay that I don't understand them. (This is manifestly not true in many respects, but it is so for me, so maybe it's a self-fulfilling prophecy in my case.) Maybe it's because I don't want to experience grief or loss or any of these big negative emotions, so I don't look into them too closely. (Just because my heart has gone and jumped off an emotional bridge doesn't mean my brain has to go there too, right?) Maybe it's because I don't like acknowledging things I can't control. (If I refuse to pay any attention to it, maybe it'll just go away, AKA the Giant Bug-Blatter Beast of Trall defense.) Maybe it's because my skill-set is limited due to my lack of emotional IQ, and as mentioned before, I don't like doing things I'm not good at. (Hey, if I were meant to understand these things, I'd have been given a bigger and better toolbox to work with.) Or maybe it's a relief to have one area in my life where it's okay not to be in control of everything. (The boss-lady gets a day off!)
Well, okay, probably not that last one. I'm too much of a natural control freak for that to be terribly likely. But it's probably a combination of the rest of those things, plus several more that haven't even occurred to me yet. But as I said, I just don't know, and I don't think I'll ever know. However, if any of you reading this have better toolkits than I do and/or feel like sharing your own insights, feel free to share. I'm not adverse to learning more, even if I'm skeptical that I'll ever learn enough to be competent in this arena. That's not defeatist, by the way; it's just an acknowledgement that the subject matter is too broad, and my own energies, talents, and interests mostly lie too far elsewhere, for me ever to gain mastery - at least not unless my priorities really change.
Another thing I'm at a loss to know is how to go about telling people that Jacques is gone. Blogging about it seemed like a natural way to disseminate this information to those people who read this journal. Besides which, it allowed me to write about him, which helped a lot. I'm a writer; it feels natural for me to write about these things, whether in a journal or another format.
However...I have at least two good friends whom I know do not read this blog. It's not that they don't know that I have one, or that they don't have the address. I've sent them both links to this site in the past. One of these people simply won't read blogs, for a complex set of stated reasons that essentially boil down to a lack of time and a genuine strain on a limited resource. I understand her reasons, and can even sympathize with them, even when it kind of annoys me on a base, selfish level. (Evil self: Hey, I put the information out there at least in part to help keep interested folks up to date with my life and what I'm thinking; if you're interested, why aren't you reading it?) The other friend is a beyond-workaholic who makes me feel like a complete and utter slacker. Her work keeps her insanely busy all the time, to the point where sleeping and eating are squeezed into random, not-frequent-enough corners, and she's got a family to take care of on top of that job. She literally does not have hours enough in the day for everything she needs to do, so I can't exactly resent that she does not spend time reading the ramblings I post here. (Although, quite selfishly, I can and do resent the fact that she is kept so perpetually busy by her job, and wish that she had more time for herself and the people who care about her.) There are probably other friends and family members who don't read the blog regularly if at all, too.
So how do I go about letting these people know that my cat has lost his fight with cancer and is no longer with us?
That's a stumper, at least so far. It seems really awkward - to me, anyway - to just call them up out of the blue and say "hey, just wanted to let you know that Jacques died." Among other things, I don't want to let them know anything of the sort. Yes, he died, but I still get teary and choked up talking about it. I don't WANT to talk about it, and certainly not inform someone over the phone of the fact of his passing. I want them to know, don't get me wrong. It feels rude on some level that I haven't informed them, and I'm aware that the more time that passes between the event and their learning about it, the more potentially awkward it's going to be. But I still don't want to have to tell them over the phone, and who knows when I'll get the chance to see them in person. (Well, in one case, I'm almost certain to see her before the month is out, but still.)
That's a problem. I haven't figured out a solution for it yet, clearly. What is the etiquette of notification of death? For people, it used to be put an obituary in the paper for the general public, and send out invitations to the funeral or memorial service, not to mention calls or letters or something to family and friends. (I'm not really that acquainted with the etiquette of death, which is probably part of the problem.) Maybe if you're really formal, you send out black-edged envelopes with a formal annoucement of death, regardless of memorial service - but again, that's for people.
What is the etiquette for notification of the death of a pet? I don't think Miss Manners covers this. Even if she does, I haven't seen her advice on it, and I'm not really the Miss Manners type anyway. Anyone have any ideas?
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2009-11-14 05:19 am (UTC)As for telling those two friends I have no advice on that.
Sending you all my love and support.