Negativity is a constant battle for the chemically sensitive. We regret what we've lost which makes us sad. We feel frustrated at our daily limitations and constant sacrifices we are forced to make to stay safe and healthy. We fight toxic exposures which try our patience and make us angry.
I try to avoid negativity on this blog because I know how constant pessimism can effect one's attitude. I avoid complaining about how I feel because I think it affects my general attitude and physiological health and would rather chant positive affirmations tricking my brain into thinking I feel great. This has actually helped me over the years. I do believe the neurological research that states the brain is very plastic and easily manipulated. I also try to surround myself with positive energy and happiness while I search for everyday joy in nature (gardening), creativity (art projects) and recreational activities. Sometimes it works; sometimes it doesn't. If I haven't written a blog post for a while it's usually because I am writing them but I then delete them one by one before posting because I think what I'm writing is too negative. Some slip through but only if they are about people I've encountered.
People contact is always a negative risk. Not only do we have to worry about their poisonous habits, but so many have their own health issues and life challenges that hang a dark cloud over everything. I avoid MCS support groups and other chemically sensitive people for this very reason. I'd like to avoid all doctors, too, since they tend to be the main cause of any frustration. Every now and then my life gets infiltrated with negativity and I suck it up like a sponge. Then it just boils out of me. I hate that. (Oops! That's negative....)
Recently I had an old ex-friend email me. I hadn't heard from her since I moved to the edge of civilization. I purposely purged her from my life not wanting to deal with her selfish, backstabbing, self-centered behaviors. She's been depressed most of her life, struggling to keep her head above water, and inflicting negativity on everyone around her. Fifteen years ago I told her she needed to give up caffeine for her health as her anti-depressants clearly weren't working. She laughed and told me I was ridiculous. I was really excited to hear from her. I thought we could reconnect, share, converse, have fun, maybe rekindle our friendship. Then I asked, "It's been so long! How have you been?"
My mistake. She's now more depressed than ever contemplating suicide. Still drinking caffeine, but she has added cigarette smoking, alcohol, and pot to her arsenal of self-medication. Her selfishness is embarrassing. She began emailing me long monologues wallowing in self-pity with little interest in anything to do with my life or what I've been doing since our last encounter so long ago. She wasn't interested in a reconnection or a reattempt at friendship. She just needed someone's attention. I'm guessing she ran out of patient friends and started searching her archives of ex-friends. At one point just when I thought she would finally acknowledge something personal I said about myself, she responded with one sentence and, "Well, enough about that, let's get back to me." If I hadn't already suffered for days reading her lengthy, one-sided rants I would have thought she was joking. She wasn't.
For some reason I always think if I give these people a chance to expunge their bad news eventually we can evolve into a mutually shared conversation. Silly me. After two weeks of her rants and me brainstorming ideas for solutions, I came to my senses. I was free therapy for her. I was a depository for all her negativity as she sucked all the positive energy out of my soul. I became irritable then angry then hostile.
I tend to be a magnet for these people. At least a few times a year I get toxic people who work their way into my life demanding attention. The chemically-sensitive man-baby wanted me to devote all my energy to caring for him because, "That's what good friends (women) do." Another old friend reappeared and exclaimed, "I think you'd be a good support!" and then proceeded to take over my life with his non-existent health problems. The failed friendship who refused to give up her fragrances but wanted to discuss her and her brother's mental health issues five minutes into our first meeting.
Two of our local librarians are depressed. Both go on and on about their depression drama as if they are staring in their own soap opera series. If you stand there long enough they will repeat their history of it in full detail. I keep wanting to say, I'm just here to check out books! When I ask about movie suggestions, one of them pulls all the movies off the shelf about people who are depressed. Her whole life is wrapped up in depression. She looks at me dumbfounded not understanding why I'm not equally enchanted by the subject. When I suggested one of them give up caffeine and smoking she responded with, "Oh no. My therapist said I need these things for comfort." I wanted to scream, Cha-ching! I'm sure your therapist doesn't want to lose her cash cow!" Can you imagine a health care professional prescribing addictions for self-medication? No, I'm not surprised, but I am shocked this woman thinks it's appropriate to regale library patrons with her health problems.
Is my super-empathy so obvious and glaring these people target me? Do I ask too many questions signaling I can care unconditionally? Maybe. I like asking after people and I'm honestly interested in hearing how they are. It's common human decency to be empathetic to others, but it's just kindness and etiquette not a request for a lengthy sermon on their misery nor have it continued day after day. I believe it's bad manners to attack people with your problems every time you encounter them as if everything about being alive is wrong. So selfish. I can tolerate toxic suck for a short time then their negativity starts to affect my own disposition. I like to help people, but once they show they aren't interested in my help or advice and just want to use me for a negativity depository, I'm finished.
Depression is a common symptom of chemical sensitivity and Hashimoto's, but it's only a symptom. Calling it a disease as if it just mysteriously appears with no cure and requires no personal culpability is idiotic. The usual cause
is substance abuse, some kind of chemical impacting the brain balance whether
that chemical be alcohol, drugs, nicotine, perfume, or foods acting like chemicals, for instance, caffeine. Caffeine is
the most obvious suspect because it is so widely accepted in our
society as a mandatory fifth food group. Most people plan their daily life around their caffeine addiction. It's a drug that is not only socially acceptable but socially required. Few would admit caffeine is poison and I believe caffeine poisoning is the main contributor to our epidemic of mental illness because its negative effects are so misunderstood.
However, depression has its
own side effects. It makes people incredibly selfish and single-mindedly
self-centered as they demand undivided attention and unconditional support from
everyone around them. They complain incessantly and blame everyone else but
themselves for their problems...it's their mother's fault, it's their husband's
fault, it's their employer's fault, it's their kids' fault. Wasting time
organizing all the people at fault doesn't contribute to healing. It's not a solution. It's only
justification for more self-pity and continued inaction. Then depressed people
self-medicate with more chemicals and become even more intolerably self-centered
and selfish and the cycle continues. It's so typical of them to wallow in
self-pity as if their suffering is a badge of honor. It's self-soothing, like thumb sucking or back patting.
One of the questions my ex-friend posed was, "Did I choose depression?" My answer is YES. Substance abuse is a choice. Is it easy to overcome? No, but it's still a choice. I know addictions are difficult. Years ago I gave up caffeine and all my depression went away. I think it would be harder if I ignorantly hadn't given up the caffeine and instead added alcohol, cigarettes, and recreational drugs to the mix, but was still my choice. Fifteen years ago my ex-friend rejected my help. Fast forward, I suggested again she give up caffeine. She had all kinds of excuses why this wasn't possible. She'd rather be dead than decaffeinated.
I recently read an article on a woman who died from a heroin addiction. The article kept calling her addiction a disease and the comments went crazy with most stating addiction isn't a disease, it's a choice. I think once the choice is made and the addicted person refuses to seek solutions it becomes more like a disease, but using the word "disease" is to avoid culpability as if this woman's death was not her fault. Addicts haven't been infected by a germ or virus. They aren't even being poisoned by the perfumes or bad habits of others. Their choices are their own.
I don't have much sympathy or tolerance for depression. If I can eradicate it from my life, anyone can. I'm not interested in the negativity that comes from the toxic sucking behavior of others who want to drag another person down into the gutter for company. Still, I think it's human nature. Misery loves company. We share misery so when someone brings me down, my next step in healing is to share it in order to get it out of me so it doesn't fester. But I'll only do it once and promise I won't let it go on and on for weeks!
