More self-analyzation
I think I want to keep talking about this empath thing. I know the subject has been beaten to death, but it's on my mind since that fic I read. Quatre was just....too, too familiar to me. Like, hi self, nice to meet you, slightly creepy that a writer I never met could capture my world view and motivations and perceptions so exactly.
On the basics: An empath is a person who picks up on others' emotions unusually well and feels them as his or her own. This is, as far as I can tell, the basic definition of the word. Some people like to embellish it, defining it as a magical psychic power and accrediting it with healing abilities and possible mind reading. Others think it's simply a high level of attentiveness to the world around oneself. Some see it as a blessed destiny to help heal the world of negativity, others as a nasty curse that interferes extensively with daily life, others as simply one more sense that can work to help or harm.
I have to say, none of these definitions were very helpful to me when trying to sort through all this. The fic I just read was infinitely more so. See, I am definitely not psychic. I can't read anyone's thoughts. I can't heal anyone with the force of my mind. I am not egotistical enough to really believe that I have a magic destiny or that anyone would go out of their way to curse me. In fact, what I can do isn't anything different from what anyone can do--it's just quite a bit stronger, something that probably comes partially from talent/genetics/luck (like good eyesight), and partially from long practice at using it and being observant, to the point where it's just habit. It's like, when someone says "You can cut the tension with a knife", or "The air was thick with anticipation"--the air isn't actually solid, it's just that people's emotions are so strong that you can sense them all around you. That's what every environment is like for me, all the time--that's all. Every emotion around me is a real, solid thing, just as much as a sound is a real thing, or a ray of light--you can't touch it, but you know it's there, you can't deny its existence, you know *what* it is, and that's that. Light is light. A bird song is a bird song. Happiness is happiness. They just *are*.
And like--let's take sound, for example, so I have a consistent example--some emotions travel better than others. You can always hear the guy talking in the dining hall because deep sounds travel better. I will always feel the stress and depression over the happiness, because it travels better. In a quiet environment, though, even the highest note of the piano is audible from across the room. In an otherwise deserted environment, that one spark of relief or joy is practically an epiphany, the way it makes your heart soar. That's the way it is.
Now, because I can sense these emotions around me pretty much all the time for pretty much everyone (I can tune others down, but I feel weirdly off balance if I do, as if I was walking around wearing earplugs or a blindfold; others can shield off their own emotions, but most don't even know they're projecting, much less know how to shield), I have a source of information that most people lack. I know if the person I'm talking to is bored, pretty much as soon as they feel it. I know if the girl sitting in front of me is really bummed about her paper, unless she's actively trying to look pleased so hard that she manages to block off all the bad feelings. I know when that kid's self-teasing joke is lighthearted fun, and when it really reflects problems. This gives me, to my mind, a lot of responsibility. It also gives me some major communication problems.
As for responsibility...if you know for a fact that a person is miserable, can you really just sit there and go, oh, it doesn't matter? If you know, for a fact, that this person is so worried and stressed that she's on the verge of a nervous breakdown--can you help wishing her well and wanting to help in whatever way you can? And doubly so if this is a person you're close to, a person important to you. If you see that a comment or action distresses her and makes her really upset, no matter how well she outwardly hides it, can you really just repeat that behavior like it's no big deal--and if you know something makes her really happy, can you really refuse to repeat it? Basically, I don't just have an inflow of information; I have constant status updates on everyone around me, and I cannot claim ignorance of how my actions affect others. (Well, very rarely I can, but usually no.) This means, to me, that I really do have to do my absolute best to 1) keep from hurting others, and 2) make others happy. Isn't that what you're supposed to do, when you know how? And I do know, so I have a responsibility to follow through on my knowledge.
(The flip side of this point is, if I fail to meet that responsibility, I'm pretty much dooming myself to misery. As I stated above, negative emotions tend to travel better than positive emotions. If I let people be miserable around me, or cause that misery myself, I'm actually just slating myself to feel that surrounding me all the time. So, this is a responsibility to myself as much as others--the way that's most likely to allow us all to have good lives.)
And then communication issues. See, I only realized very, very recently that most people really can't sense these emotions quite so clearly and solidly. Apparently, my emotion-sensors are the equivalent to a dog's nose, as compared to a human's. Way stronger, way more information coming in. So. On the one hand, I have no idea what most people know just from interacting with me. Can they tell I'm stressed/overjoyed/out of it today? I think I'm projecting it, but I'm not sure at all. And because of this, I don't know how much to say. I often assume people know things, because they're so obvious how could they not know, only to have them tell me later that they really had no idea.
And on the other hand, most people don't know how much information they've given me by the time they finish saying, "Hi, my name is ____." I already know how they're feeling about the world when they say this. I usually already know if this is a person I want to know better or not. Often, within three minutes of conversation, I already know a weakness or two of theirs--if they're hesitant about meeting new people, if they're worried about how they look. People are really good at projecting these without realizing it. And for some strange, incomprehensible reason (note the lovely sarcasm here, guys), people get a little freaked out when a complete stranger goes, hey, don't worry about that thing you're stressing about, it'll be fine. Or even when a close friend does it unexpectedly. I can't imagine why, but a lot of people get upset when they find out you know all the weaknesses they were trying so hard to hide.
Third, this can lead to miscommunication. I know that ____ person is upset. I do not know why she is upset. I can guess that it's because of ____, but it's not a given. I don't know if it'll still be bothering her a minute from now, or an hour from now, or a day from now; once again, I can guess based off the strength of the emotion, but even extremely strong emotions have wide ranges for the amount of time they last. So, I can be thinking ____ is really, really furious at me when she leaves after an argument, when in reality she got over it a minute after she left and has no idea why I'm being so touchy around her (or even that I'm being touchy). Or, I might think that strong irritation is directed at the story I'm telling and shut up, when really the person just can't figure out why the hell this program she's been coding for three hours just won't work.
And finally, knowing how a certain will probably react to a given behavior is...not always good for communication. If I know that bringing up x topic will hurt someone, I'll probably not bring it up, even if it's something I really need to talk about. (This ties into the responsibility thing--if it'll make them miserable to hear it, and I'll be miserable if they're miserable, then I'll keep quiet even if I'm currently miserable, so at least one person gets to be happy in all this.) If I know that doing x will make someone unhappy, I'll avoid doing it. This makes it difficult at the best of times to express myself openly and clearly; it means I'm much more likely to compromise even on important things than the regular person, and it means that I'm less likely to object to doing something I don't really want to do, since I already know the reasons for doing it. Skipping this "I really want to do this/don't want to do this" step is good for making the other party happy, and good for cutting down on unnecessary argument, since I try to employ this only where I'd eventually agree anyways--but it's very bad for letting people know what I like and dislike, what bothers me and what doesn't. Basically, the one-way flow of information impedes honest, open communication.
So. Having this ultrasensitive sense makes me 1) feel responsible for others, and 2) makes me ignore/leave unmentioned my own emotions and opinions, at least a good chunk of the time. These effects allow me to accomplish some pretty big things, but they can also be really bad for me. >.> I mean, with them, I really can help people. I really can sit down and make someone's life better. Help them work through things. How many people can say that, on the drop of a dime, they can sit down and really help another person, without having to travel to Africa (or even the local soup kitchen) or donate a million dollars or spend years in school first? That's a real gift, and I do appreciate it.
But on the flip side, I have a strong tendency to get in over my head. I'm very likely to feel that first push of hurt coming at me, and suddenly twist my day around to make it vanish. This means that sometimes, I place the needs of others over my own. I ignore my wants pretty darn frequently--it's fine if I was planning on spending that hour of my time relaxing for the first time in a week, you really still need it more than I do. (There is no sarcasm in that previous statement, though looking at it on paper, it looks like there probably should be in order for it to show a healthy mindset.) Basically, whatever is the strongest, most immediate hurt, that's the one I deal with--so, say, I tell someone that their behavior really upset me, and they get upset that I want them to stop cancelling on me to chase their latest crush. I will probably, in the face of their immediate and forceful hurt at my proposal, back off. They might stop being hurt five minutes later, making their hurt objectively more minor than the extended period I've been feeling hurt over the five times she backed out on me--but hers is more immediate and stronger, and therefore the feeling I'm most likely to react to and try and make better. I am also prone to simply overcommitting myself, putting so much effort and energy into helping others that I no longer have any attention or energy for myself. This isn't really any good for me as a person.
So, there are good and bad things about it. Like most skills. And I need to learn to manage it better, I guess.
I do want to talk about Quatre in this fic a little bit, just to bring things back around to the beginning. See, the whole thing is about the five pilots, as part of the Preventers after the wars, trying to bust some giant prostitution ring. (Really melodramatic plot, with magic appearances from theoretically dead people, a kidnapped lover, all sorts of things. But, because it's fiction and because the characters are insane and might actually get into situations somewhere close to that level of melodrama, it actually does work decently well regardless.) And Quatre manages to get himself right in the middle of everything. He's the one that gets stuck infiltrating the ring, because he has business connections that allow him to pull it off; imagine the swamp of bad emotions a place like that has got to be, with a bunch of kidnapped sex slaves and the slimy rapist people that keep them. And, even when he's home, he needs to deal with everyone else's fear, anger, and other intense reactions to all the melodrama. None of these characters are known for having calm, rational emotions; they're all fiery, passionate people at heart, and they can't hide that from him. Note that they're also mostly very bad at communication, so Quatre really can't tell if a particular wave of anger is directed at him or at the events of the day or what.
With all of this, he obviously drops into a state of physical illness pretty quickly. He can't keep control of his own negative emotions, and with so much, he can't block out the others', either. (He also thinks it would be very selfish to shield out all others simply so he doesn't have to deal with them, which I would agree with. If you have the ability to help, you should.) He experiences a lot of guilt, largely because he can't work miracles and make everything better, which is something I feel a lot. He has extremely high expectations for himself and tends to disregard any sense of his own limits in the name of making this work--I get that feeling too, that because I have this sense in abundance, I should be able to use it and the information I get from it, I need to make things work, I don't have time to worry about myself or my own emotional state because all of this really needs to get taken care of and I'm the only one who can do it. He has miscommunications--genuinely thinking another character hates him, until he finally cracks and asks what he did wrong, and the utterly confused other character tells him that he's angry at everything that Quatre's having to do, not at Quatre himself; this kind of communication problem is really, really familiar to me. His need to make the situation better precedes his need to rest, his need to relax, his need to care for himself--at least in part because he can't do those things while the situation holds, but also in part because he does ignore/forget himself in the middle of so much stuff. He manages to blend in as an inside agent because he feels how the other people around him feel, and can behave as if he were one of the higher-ups in this ring, even though the whole idea makes him sick once he's outside it. I have seen myself do that--adjust my own emotions to fit into the situation, even when the situation is totally Not Okay--and I hate it about myself.
And throughout it all, I see so, so much of myself in him. It's insane. He's me, on many levels; his thoughts follow the same patterns as mine, his decisions show the same motivations and values, he reacts to his decisions (aka his lack of regard for himself) in ways that are extremely familiar to me. Obviously, I've never been in quite as much a self-destructive position as his is in the story--but if someone told me, we need you to do this, listen to this kid who escaped from them and then decide if you'll do it or not? I have no doubt I'd do it, and damn the consequences to myself. That kind of emotional appeal is probably the easiest way to get me to do just about anything, and let's face it, I'm not all that good at thinking in advance of my own emotional needs in the first place. XDDD So, yeah. That's what got me thinking. Seeing too much of myself in a character written by a person I've never met.
On the basics: An empath is a person who picks up on others' emotions unusually well and feels them as his or her own. This is, as far as I can tell, the basic definition of the word. Some people like to embellish it, defining it as a magical psychic power and accrediting it with healing abilities and possible mind reading. Others think it's simply a high level of attentiveness to the world around oneself. Some see it as a blessed destiny to help heal the world of negativity, others as a nasty curse that interferes extensively with daily life, others as simply one more sense that can work to help or harm.
I have to say, none of these definitions were very helpful to me when trying to sort through all this. The fic I just read was infinitely more so. See, I am definitely not psychic. I can't read anyone's thoughts. I can't heal anyone with the force of my mind. I am not egotistical enough to really believe that I have a magic destiny or that anyone would go out of their way to curse me. In fact, what I can do isn't anything different from what anyone can do--it's just quite a bit stronger, something that probably comes partially from talent/genetics/luck (like good eyesight), and partially from long practice at using it and being observant, to the point where it's just habit. It's like, when someone says "You can cut the tension with a knife", or "The air was thick with anticipation"--the air isn't actually solid, it's just that people's emotions are so strong that you can sense them all around you. That's what every environment is like for me, all the time--that's all. Every emotion around me is a real, solid thing, just as much as a sound is a real thing, or a ray of light--you can't touch it, but you know it's there, you can't deny its existence, you know *what* it is, and that's that. Light is light. A bird song is a bird song. Happiness is happiness. They just *are*.
And like--let's take sound, for example, so I have a consistent example--some emotions travel better than others. You can always hear the guy talking in the dining hall because deep sounds travel better. I will always feel the stress and depression over the happiness, because it travels better. In a quiet environment, though, even the highest note of the piano is audible from across the room. In an otherwise deserted environment, that one spark of relief or joy is practically an epiphany, the way it makes your heart soar. That's the way it is.
Now, because I can sense these emotions around me pretty much all the time for pretty much everyone (I can tune others down, but I feel weirdly off balance if I do, as if I was walking around wearing earplugs or a blindfold; others can shield off their own emotions, but most don't even know they're projecting, much less know how to shield), I have a source of information that most people lack. I know if the person I'm talking to is bored, pretty much as soon as they feel it. I know if the girl sitting in front of me is really bummed about her paper, unless she's actively trying to look pleased so hard that she manages to block off all the bad feelings. I know when that kid's self-teasing joke is lighthearted fun, and when it really reflects problems. This gives me, to my mind, a lot of responsibility. It also gives me some major communication problems.
As for responsibility...if you know for a fact that a person is miserable, can you really just sit there and go, oh, it doesn't matter? If you know, for a fact, that this person is so worried and stressed that she's on the verge of a nervous breakdown--can you help wishing her well and wanting to help in whatever way you can? And doubly so if this is a person you're close to, a person important to you. If you see that a comment or action distresses her and makes her really upset, no matter how well she outwardly hides it, can you really just repeat that behavior like it's no big deal--and if you know something makes her really happy, can you really refuse to repeat it? Basically, I don't just have an inflow of information; I have constant status updates on everyone around me, and I cannot claim ignorance of how my actions affect others. (Well, very rarely I can, but usually no.) This means, to me, that I really do have to do my absolute best to 1) keep from hurting others, and 2) make others happy. Isn't that what you're supposed to do, when you know how? And I do know, so I have a responsibility to follow through on my knowledge.
(The flip side of this point is, if I fail to meet that responsibility, I'm pretty much dooming myself to misery. As I stated above, negative emotions tend to travel better than positive emotions. If I let people be miserable around me, or cause that misery myself, I'm actually just slating myself to feel that surrounding me all the time. So, this is a responsibility to myself as much as others--the way that's most likely to allow us all to have good lives.)
And then communication issues. See, I only realized very, very recently that most people really can't sense these emotions quite so clearly and solidly. Apparently, my emotion-sensors are the equivalent to a dog's nose, as compared to a human's. Way stronger, way more information coming in. So. On the one hand, I have no idea what most people know just from interacting with me. Can they tell I'm stressed/overjoyed/out of it today? I think I'm projecting it, but I'm not sure at all. And because of this, I don't know how much to say. I often assume people know things, because they're so obvious how could they not know, only to have them tell me later that they really had no idea.
And on the other hand, most people don't know how much information they've given me by the time they finish saying, "Hi, my name is ____." I already know how they're feeling about the world when they say this. I usually already know if this is a person I want to know better or not. Often, within three minutes of conversation, I already know a weakness or two of theirs--if they're hesitant about meeting new people, if they're worried about how they look. People are really good at projecting these without realizing it. And for some strange, incomprehensible reason (note the lovely sarcasm here, guys), people get a little freaked out when a complete stranger goes, hey, don't worry about that thing you're stressing about, it'll be fine. Or even when a close friend does it unexpectedly. I can't imagine why, but a lot of people get upset when they find out you know all the weaknesses they were trying so hard to hide.
Third, this can lead to miscommunication. I know that ____ person is upset. I do not know why she is upset. I can guess that it's because of ____, but it's not a given. I don't know if it'll still be bothering her a minute from now, or an hour from now, or a day from now; once again, I can guess based off the strength of the emotion, but even extremely strong emotions have wide ranges for the amount of time they last. So, I can be thinking ____ is really, really furious at me when she leaves after an argument, when in reality she got over it a minute after she left and has no idea why I'm being so touchy around her (or even that I'm being touchy). Or, I might think that strong irritation is directed at the story I'm telling and shut up, when really the person just can't figure out why the hell this program she's been coding for three hours just won't work.
And finally, knowing how a certain will probably react to a given behavior is...not always good for communication. If I know that bringing up x topic will hurt someone, I'll probably not bring it up, even if it's something I really need to talk about. (This ties into the responsibility thing--if it'll make them miserable to hear it, and I'll be miserable if they're miserable, then I'll keep quiet even if I'm currently miserable, so at least one person gets to be happy in all this.) If I know that doing x will make someone unhappy, I'll avoid doing it. This makes it difficult at the best of times to express myself openly and clearly; it means I'm much more likely to compromise even on important things than the regular person, and it means that I'm less likely to object to doing something I don't really want to do, since I already know the reasons for doing it. Skipping this "I really want to do this/don't want to do this" step is good for making the other party happy, and good for cutting down on unnecessary argument, since I try to employ this only where I'd eventually agree anyways--but it's very bad for letting people know what I like and dislike, what bothers me and what doesn't. Basically, the one-way flow of information impedes honest, open communication.
So. Having this ultrasensitive sense makes me 1) feel responsible for others, and 2) makes me ignore/leave unmentioned my own emotions and opinions, at least a good chunk of the time. These effects allow me to accomplish some pretty big things, but they can also be really bad for me. >.> I mean, with them, I really can help people. I really can sit down and make someone's life better. Help them work through things. How many people can say that, on the drop of a dime, they can sit down and really help another person, without having to travel to Africa (or even the local soup kitchen) or donate a million dollars or spend years in school first? That's a real gift, and I do appreciate it.
But on the flip side, I have a strong tendency to get in over my head. I'm very likely to feel that first push of hurt coming at me, and suddenly twist my day around to make it vanish. This means that sometimes, I place the needs of others over my own. I ignore my wants pretty darn frequently--it's fine if I was planning on spending that hour of my time relaxing for the first time in a week, you really still need it more than I do. (There is no sarcasm in that previous statement, though looking at it on paper, it looks like there probably should be in order for it to show a healthy mindset.) Basically, whatever is the strongest, most immediate hurt, that's the one I deal with--so, say, I tell someone that their behavior really upset me, and they get upset that I want them to stop cancelling on me to chase their latest crush. I will probably, in the face of their immediate and forceful hurt at my proposal, back off. They might stop being hurt five minutes later, making their hurt objectively more minor than the extended period I've been feeling hurt over the five times she backed out on me--but hers is more immediate and stronger, and therefore the feeling I'm most likely to react to and try and make better. I am also prone to simply overcommitting myself, putting so much effort and energy into helping others that I no longer have any attention or energy for myself. This isn't really any good for me as a person.
So, there are good and bad things about it. Like most skills. And I need to learn to manage it better, I guess.
I do want to talk about Quatre in this fic a little bit, just to bring things back around to the beginning. See, the whole thing is about the five pilots, as part of the Preventers after the wars, trying to bust some giant prostitution ring. (Really melodramatic plot, with magic appearances from theoretically dead people, a kidnapped lover, all sorts of things. But, because it's fiction and because the characters are insane and might actually get into situations somewhere close to that level of melodrama, it actually does work decently well regardless.) And Quatre manages to get himself right in the middle of everything. He's the one that gets stuck infiltrating the ring, because he has business connections that allow him to pull it off; imagine the swamp of bad emotions a place like that has got to be, with a bunch of kidnapped sex slaves and the slimy rapist people that keep them. And, even when he's home, he needs to deal with everyone else's fear, anger, and other intense reactions to all the melodrama. None of these characters are known for having calm, rational emotions; they're all fiery, passionate people at heart, and they can't hide that from him. Note that they're also mostly very bad at communication, so Quatre really can't tell if a particular wave of anger is directed at him or at the events of the day or what.
With all of this, he obviously drops into a state of physical illness pretty quickly. He can't keep control of his own negative emotions, and with so much, he can't block out the others', either. (He also thinks it would be very selfish to shield out all others simply so he doesn't have to deal with them, which I would agree with. If you have the ability to help, you should.) He experiences a lot of guilt, largely because he can't work miracles and make everything better, which is something I feel a lot. He has extremely high expectations for himself and tends to disregard any sense of his own limits in the name of making this work--I get that feeling too, that because I have this sense in abundance, I should be able to use it and the information I get from it, I need to make things work, I don't have time to worry about myself or my own emotional state because all of this really needs to get taken care of and I'm the only one who can do it. He has miscommunications--genuinely thinking another character hates him, until he finally cracks and asks what he did wrong, and the utterly confused other character tells him that he's angry at everything that Quatre's having to do, not at Quatre himself; this kind of communication problem is really, really familiar to me. His need to make the situation better precedes his need to rest, his need to relax, his need to care for himself--at least in part because he can't do those things while the situation holds, but also in part because he does ignore/forget himself in the middle of so much stuff. He manages to blend in as an inside agent because he feels how the other people around him feel, and can behave as if he were one of the higher-ups in this ring, even though the whole idea makes him sick once he's outside it. I have seen myself do that--adjust my own emotions to fit into the situation, even when the situation is totally Not Okay--and I hate it about myself.
And throughout it all, I see so, so much of myself in him. It's insane. He's me, on many levels; his thoughts follow the same patterns as mine, his decisions show the same motivations and values, he reacts to his decisions (aka his lack of regard for himself) in ways that are extremely familiar to me. Obviously, I've never been in quite as much a self-destructive position as his is in the story--but if someone told me, we need you to do this, listen to this kid who escaped from them and then decide if you'll do it or not? I have no doubt I'd do it, and damn the consequences to myself. That kind of emotional appeal is probably the easiest way to get me to do just about anything, and let's face it, I'm not all that good at thinking in advance of my own emotional needs in the first place. XDDD So, yeah. That's what got me thinking. Seeing too much of myself in a character written by a person I've never met.