Rights as a byproduct.
Oct. 24th, 2010 02:05 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
luna_manarI'm in a really weird mood that I haven't been able to find in a long time. I'm actually okay with the idea of someone being angry at me; not that I want it, but in the recent past, I've been unable to handle close friends being even slightly irritated with me without getting insanely defensive and/or angry.
It leaves me in a strange state where I feel no inclination to rage. I don't need to redirect my hurt at things that I should be angry about, just so I can rant about something and in doing so, blow off steam that wasn't at all triggered by the thing I'm ranting about.
Not to say you couldn't get under my skin if you tried. Compare me unfavorably to someone else and I'm sure to get riled up; I'm a jealous little snot. But I'm starting to realize more and more that "I just don't feel right about that" is a valid response, even if it's an ignorant one.
There are a lot of things I don't feel right about. I don't feel right about picking fights with people who are already upset, even if they're being unreasonable. I don't feel right about not conscientiously objecting to people who are religious just because they think "It's safer to believe than not to." I also don't feel right about saying "God Damn It" in front of someone's Catholic grandmother.
I don't feel right about taking pleasure in malicious actions or words. I don't feel right about ignoring panhandlers. I don't feel right about bumperstickers that say "If you live like there is no God, you'd better be right!" I don't feel right about keying that person's car, no matter how much I want to scream at them.
And it doesn't matter whether or not I'm being logical about all this. It doesn't matter if there are quantifiable flaws in my emotions. My emotions and gut feelings about things aren't based on anything even resembles a greater or empirical good.
I just don't feel right about a lot of things, and that's it. And I've been walking around thinking, inadvertently, that there are things I should feel are right and things you should feel are not; that our instincts about these things aren't to be trusted, because they're illogical, and that there is only one logical "right" to whether something is or is not objectionable.
But that's not something I think, or feel, anymore. I don't think anyone should feel anything. I think people do feel things, and that's it. You can measure the worth of what people feel in any way you want, but...that's what I think. It's purely philosophical. You can think it's wrong, and for you, it might be. But since there's no measurable science dictating the good and bad of emotions, I refuse to latch onto anyone's opinion on the matter as a universal truth.
I rant and rail a lot. I certainly tell other people what I think. And I do think that it's very common for someone to believe one thing and argue something different. I don't think I've done that, much, if at all, so that's a good thing. Occasionally, I change my mind about things, but I don't think I'm a hypocrite, most of the time.
What I know intellectually is hard to convince myself emotionally. I think I'm getting a bit better at that, though; I'm actually starting to feel, as well as think, that emotions are, in fact, logical. Knee-jerk reactions of anger and spite are logical. We have these reactions to completely philosophical things--insults, arguments, condescensions--because there is something about whatever-it-is that causes us pain. Pro-life people feel pain at the idea of other people having abortions. I'll rip your fucking throat out if you insinuate in any way, shape or form that I'm not doing my very best, even when I screw up, because it's important to me that I'm not seen as lazy, and the very fear of someone thinking I'm a slacker hurts my feelings, whether or not I think I should care. There's no reason beyond that. You can chalk it up to some combination of selfish genes and social environment. It's meaningless, but the fear and the pain is real.
You can debate back and forth whether of not this matters at all. Some people don't feel that how much distress another person is in should have any bearing on how you treat them if their viewpoints are factually incorrect or logically inconsistent. Some people even enjoy causing pain to people who are wrong, and feel it's obviously right to do so (no justification needed).
I, myself, don't feel right about that. When someone expresses emotional distress, my reaction is to want to get them out of that distress, if only for a moment. I'm fairly indiscriminate about this; even if the person is someone I don't really like very much, I still react that way, if I see the person is upset. Ultimately, I don't like seeing emotional distress. Which is funny, because I don't have the same reaction to seeing someone in physical pain. It's very specifically the expression of emotion that triggers this in me. Call it what you want, a weakness, a fallacy; it's there. I feel pain when I see someone else in emotional pain. So much, that I have to struggle against the inclination to fall all over myself trying to help them not be unhappy, anymore.
It's why I'm bad at keeping my cool when I'm in the presence of anger, or anything I interpret as anger. It's why I can't deal with friends being upset with me--why I have to deal with it now right now goddammit, and why I can't let go of a grudge or an injury, why time simply does not heal things for me. It's why I tend not to snark at people I disagree with, and why I hate bullies, who are patently incapable of empathy, and therefore, they are the opposite of myself.
It makes me a good champion, and a poor strategist. I want to lift people up without tearing anyone else down. It makes me home in on the exceptions to the rules, and demand they be given a voice, while never wanting to tell anyone else to shut the hell up.
It makes me rage in a wild way when I'm hurt, regardless of who I hurt in the process. When the only thing I can think of is why do I hurt make the pain stop, I scrabble for anything to murderkillburndestroy and god help anyone who gets in my way.
And it all comes back to the point that I value honesty almost more than anything else. Not the "brutal honesty" where you spout out every dumbass thing than crosses your mind, but the ability to say "I'm angry at you," instead of "you're a stupid asshole." To say, "I don't understand, tell me more" instead of doggedly sidestepping a subject that is strange and uncomfortable. To say outright that you are unable to compromise about a passion instead of trying to justify in a thousand different ways why you shouldn't have to.
I'm not entirely sure, but I think something might have clicked in the last week or so. It really depends: do I really think I know what I'm talking about? I'm basically taking the stance that emotionally, right and wrong are in fact an entirely subjective idea, and that the physical logistics of morality are irrelevant. I'm arguing that Hitler Had His Reasons and pedophiles aren't monsters. Even if absolutely nothing could ever justify such actions to me, and I feel sick to my stomach if I think about it for too long. I'll never argue it was good or justified or that anyone deserves being treated like garbage; I'm saying nothing is justified, and no one deserves anything at all. We can fight for what is best for us, and what makes us feel right. And that's going to constantly pit us against each other, forever.
It means there IS no answer. It means there will always be war and imbalance and suffering. And it means I'm okay with this.
I deal with people on a one-on-one level. I've never been any other way. My only real goal is to find my common ground with each person, protect them from whatever hurts them if I can, and rage at anything that injures me, with varying degrees of priorities cancelling each other out depending on how strongly they affect me. I'll scream at sexist assholes until a feminist pulls a gun on one. I'll be understanding of my coworker's very distracting need to obsessively clean her desk until she tries to Windex my monitors. I'll be hurt until whoever hurt me apologizes, and means it.
I am not a principled person. There are too many ifs, ands and buts for me ever to feel right or happy taking such a hard line on something, I'm willing to preemptively upset other people over it. All my malice, all my rage, genuine and vicious as it is, is reactive. What natural violence I do possess, isn't the kind that seeks to inflict suffering. I'm a creature of bridgebuilding, and I don't really care what else that makes me. It's why labels don't stick to me, and I'm rather proud of that.
It means I'm as hated as a turncoat as I am loved for being "the only one who gets it." It means a lot of my friends hate each other. It makes me a good teacher, and a storyteller. It means I lead a really, really interesting life.
It leaves me in a strange state where I feel no inclination to rage. I don't need to redirect my hurt at things that I should be angry about, just so I can rant about something and in doing so, blow off steam that wasn't at all triggered by the thing I'm ranting about.
Not to say you couldn't get under my skin if you tried. Compare me unfavorably to someone else and I'm sure to get riled up; I'm a jealous little snot. But I'm starting to realize more and more that "I just don't feel right about that" is a valid response, even if it's an ignorant one.
There are a lot of things I don't feel right about. I don't feel right about picking fights with people who are already upset, even if they're being unreasonable. I don't feel right about not conscientiously objecting to people who are religious just because they think "It's safer to believe than not to." I also don't feel right about saying "God Damn It" in front of someone's Catholic grandmother.
I don't feel right about taking pleasure in malicious actions or words. I don't feel right about ignoring panhandlers. I don't feel right about bumperstickers that say "If you live like there is no God, you'd better be right!" I don't feel right about keying that person's car, no matter how much I want to scream at them.
And it doesn't matter whether or not I'm being logical about all this. It doesn't matter if there are quantifiable flaws in my emotions. My emotions and gut feelings about things aren't based on anything even resembles a greater or empirical good.
I just don't feel right about a lot of things, and that's it. And I've been walking around thinking, inadvertently, that there are things I should feel are right and things you should feel are not; that our instincts about these things aren't to be trusted, because they're illogical, and that there is only one logical "right" to whether something is or is not objectionable.
But that's not something I think, or feel, anymore. I don't think anyone should feel anything. I think people do feel things, and that's it. You can measure the worth of what people feel in any way you want, but...that's what I think. It's purely philosophical. You can think it's wrong, and for you, it might be. But since there's no measurable science dictating the good and bad of emotions, I refuse to latch onto anyone's opinion on the matter as a universal truth.
I rant and rail a lot. I certainly tell other people what I think. And I do think that it's very common for someone to believe one thing and argue something different. I don't think I've done that, much, if at all, so that's a good thing. Occasionally, I change my mind about things, but I don't think I'm a hypocrite, most of the time.
What I know intellectually is hard to convince myself emotionally. I think I'm getting a bit better at that, though; I'm actually starting to feel, as well as think, that emotions are, in fact, logical. Knee-jerk reactions of anger and spite are logical. We have these reactions to completely philosophical things--insults, arguments, condescensions--because there is something about whatever-it-is that causes us pain. Pro-life people feel pain at the idea of other people having abortions. I'll rip your fucking throat out if you insinuate in any way, shape or form that I'm not doing my very best, even when I screw up, because it's important to me that I'm not seen as lazy, and the very fear of someone thinking I'm a slacker hurts my feelings, whether or not I think I should care. There's no reason beyond that. You can chalk it up to some combination of selfish genes and social environment. It's meaningless, but the fear and the pain is real.
You can debate back and forth whether of not this matters at all. Some people don't feel that how much distress another person is in should have any bearing on how you treat them if their viewpoints are factually incorrect or logically inconsistent. Some people even enjoy causing pain to people who are wrong, and feel it's obviously right to do so (no justification needed).
I, myself, don't feel right about that. When someone expresses emotional distress, my reaction is to want to get them out of that distress, if only for a moment. I'm fairly indiscriminate about this; even if the person is someone I don't really like very much, I still react that way, if I see the person is upset. Ultimately, I don't like seeing emotional distress. Which is funny, because I don't have the same reaction to seeing someone in physical pain. It's very specifically the expression of emotion that triggers this in me. Call it what you want, a weakness, a fallacy; it's there. I feel pain when I see someone else in emotional pain. So much, that I have to struggle against the inclination to fall all over myself trying to help them not be unhappy, anymore.
It's why I'm bad at keeping my cool when I'm in the presence of anger, or anything I interpret as anger. It's why I can't deal with friends being upset with me--why I have to deal with it now right now goddammit, and why I can't let go of a grudge or an injury, why time simply does not heal things for me. It's why I tend not to snark at people I disagree with, and why I hate bullies, who are patently incapable of empathy, and therefore, they are the opposite of myself.
It makes me a good champion, and a poor strategist. I want to lift people up without tearing anyone else down. It makes me home in on the exceptions to the rules, and demand they be given a voice, while never wanting to tell anyone else to shut the hell up.
It makes me rage in a wild way when I'm hurt, regardless of who I hurt in the process. When the only thing I can think of is why do I hurt make the pain stop, I scrabble for anything to murderkillburndestroy and god help anyone who gets in my way.
And it all comes back to the point that I value honesty almost more than anything else. Not the "brutal honesty" where you spout out every dumbass thing than crosses your mind, but the ability to say "I'm angry at you," instead of "you're a stupid asshole." To say, "I don't understand, tell me more" instead of doggedly sidestepping a subject that is strange and uncomfortable. To say outright that you are unable to compromise about a passion instead of trying to justify in a thousand different ways why you shouldn't have to.
I'm not entirely sure, but I think something might have clicked in the last week or so. It really depends: do I really think I know what I'm talking about? I'm basically taking the stance that emotionally, right and wrong are in fact an entirely subjective idea, and that the physical logistics of morality are irrelevant. I'm arguing that Hitler Had His Reasons and pedophiles aren't monsters. Even if absolutely nothing could ever justify such actions to me, and I feel sick to my stomach if I think about it for too long. I'll never argue it was good or justified or that anyone deserves being treated like garbage; I'm saying nothing is justified, and no one deserves anything at all. We can fight for what is best for us, and what makes us feel right. And that's going to constantly pit us against each other, forever.
It means there IS no answer. It means there will always be war and imbalance and suffering. And it means I'm okay with this.
I deal with people on a one-on-one level. I've never been any other way. My only real goal is to find my common ground with each person, protect them from whatever hurts them if I can, and rage at anything that injures me, with varying degrees of priorities cancelling each other out depending on how strongly they affect me. I'll scream at sexist assholes until a feminist pulls a gun on one. I'll be understanding of my coworker's very distracting need to obsessively clean her desk until she tries to Windex my monitors. I'll be hurt until whoever hurt me apologizes, and means it.
I am not a principled person. There are too many ifs, ands and buts for me ever to feel right or happy taking such a hard line on something, I'm willing to preemptively upset other people over it. All my malice, all my rage, genuine and vicious as it is, is reactive. What natural violence I do possess, isn't the kind that seeks to inflict suffering. I'm a creature of bridgebuilding, and I don't really care what else that makes me. It's why labels don't stick to me, and I'm rather proud of that.
It means I'm as hated as a turncoat as I am loved for being "the only one who gets it." It means a lot of my friends hate each other. It makes me a good teacher, and a storyteller. It means I lead a really, really interesting life.
