Flippant Thoughts on Forgiveness / Pain, Part 4

I recently applied for a writing joh. When they asked for a writing sample, I realized all my writing exists at an intensity level of roughly +487,000,000.

Here at the blog, it's all pain and suffering, all the time.

So, instead of titling this "Pain, Part 4," I'm calling it "Flippant Thoughts on Forgiveness." Let's dive headfirst into the shallow end, shall we?

Moo... Photo by bertknot

Forgiveness is hard, particularly when you can barely identify the source of the pain, particularly when you can't even bring yourself to write the words, "I'm hurt" or much, much worse, "I'm still hurt."

That's not how it's supposed to work, is it? I'm not supposed to still be hurt. Forgive and forget. Deal with it and move on. Positive mantra about moving confidently into the future. Hoorah.

This is the pain that never ends, it just goes on and on my friend...

I've found, unfortunately, that ignoring unresolved pain is a lot like ignoring all that C-4 you have buried in the backyard (analogy credit to labullets). It will explode in your face. You will wonder what happened. And then you'll be like, "Oh yeah, remember that time I buried all that C-4 in the backyard? Guess it wasn't as stable as I thought."

My buried pain usually turns into anger.

But why? Why am I so angry?

I'm standing outside the dorms on the second floor landing, watching his light blue pickup pull away from the office, and suddenly, I'm filled with uncontrollable rage. I kick at everything in sight, including a bright orange safety cone. Writing this, I still wonder if it is my fault. If I am a bomb waiting to explode.

I've written before about a traumatic experience that left with me with the kind of pain that doesn't get better. About how I blamed myself for hurting the person who had hurt me.

I actually apologized to him years later for using him as an emotional punching bag. At the time, it felt good to realize and acknowledge what I had done, to have a ready-made slot that I could comfortably slide the experience into, neat and snug.

I can see now how I reframed the experience, making him the victim, myself the perpetrator. I had blamed him unfairly for causing my pain. I projected my pain onto him. I hated him instead of hating my dad. I was angry at him without justification. I refused to forgive him—worse, I didn't want to.

I could label it, "That time I took all my worst inclinations out on an innocent person because I'm broken" and move on.

Telling the Truth

Except, that wasn't exactly the truth. But it made me feel better. I didn't have to alter any of my pre-existing ideas, particularly the one where there was something deeply and indelibly wrong with me.

I mean, what was the alternative? I needed someone or something to blame, and the only person available was me. Because the alternative was too dark to consider:

That what he had done to me was wrong.

That what he had done to me was wrong, though well-intentioned.

That what he had done to me was akin to spiritual, emotional "rape." 

That what he had done to me perpetuated for years the very shame that he sought to heal. 

And in the aftermath, I was left alone, emotionally shattered and unable to breathe.

This is what makes me feel a little sick to my stomach, now that years have passed. It's one thing to drag out someone's deepest shame by force—it's another to blame them for feeling wounded and angry after the fact.

You Need Witnesses

There's that famous passage in Matthew 18 about confronting someone who has sinned. About going back, again and again, trying to reason with the person, trying to get them to see your point of view.

This passage is often used to shame Christians who don't follow this exact procedure in every and any conflict with another believer, such as Christians who complain about Mark Driscoll on the internet, as if the correct thing to do were to show up on his doorstep tomorrow with a Bible and a stack of good intentions. 

But considering it now, I wonder about the part where you bring a friend or two with you as witness.

Because what if the other person refuses to see your point of view or denies that anything happened? ("No! I did not steal your oxen. These are my oxen. I've owned them for years, years I tell you!").

If this happens, you need other people who will stand with you in your truth, who will bear witness to your grievance: 

Yes, you were abused.

Yes, what happened was wrong. 

Yes, that is Buttercup and she is your cow.

Yes, I believe you. 

Yes, you are not imagining things. You are not crazy. 

You can't forgive someone for something that never happened—

I can't forgive him or anyone else if I don't acknowledge and accept the truth of what happened. And I need someone else to bear witness to that truth, someone else who can drown out the accusing voices that tell me that I'm crazy, I'm imagining things, I'm too sensitive, I'm making it all up to get attention, a unicorn gored me and I'm filing a formal complaint.

I've become convinced that forgiveness cannot happen without truth. Healing cannot happen without truth. You don't need the person who hurt you to say, "I was wrong. Please forgive me" but you do need someone in your life to say, "Yeah, I totally get it."

This happened for me last year. And in that moment, I could finally breathe.

The INTP & Giving Zero Fucks, Part 3

In this part of the series, we talk about how to give more f***s:

Maybe you're an INTP and you wish to give more of a f***. Think of it not as changing your basic nature, but as an opportunity for self-growth. If you are in conflict with someone about how much you care, here are some suggestions:

Instead of getting defensive, get curious

I've definitely been guilty of flying into a defensive frenzy every time someone accuses me of not giving a f***.

"But, BUT..."

It's so easy to go there. But so much more productive to get quiet and get curious--not about who's to blame, or what's wrong with the other person, or what's wrong with me--but about what's really going on.

And in the quiet, to take responsibility for my part in the conflict, no more, no less.

To resist any shame
To notice patterns
To find the humility in myself that will help me reconcile with the other person.

Apologize

Take responsibility if you have offended someone. This doesn't mean feeling bad about yourself. It does mean giving a f*** about other people's feelings.

You don't have to admit to being a horrible, defective person. You just have to admit that in this particular instance, what you said or did hurt someone else's feelings, and you take responsibility for that.

Don't fake it

As an INTP, even though I know, rationally, that faking it a little bit would probably make my life a lot easier, I still can't bring myself to do it or tell other people to do it.

If you don't give a f***, you don't give f***. Find something that you do give a f*** about and focus on that. You couldn't care less about emptying the dishwasher. But you care about your boyfriend's happiness.

It's okay to have boundaries about what you will and will not accept responsibility for--there are some things that are simply outside of your control such as:

Whether or not the other person chooses to accept your apology or hold a grudge forever.
How insecure the other person feels about their position of authority or the relationship.
How quickly the other person is able to let go of their anger.
The wounded pride or ego of another person.

You might come to the conclusion that there is nothing you can reasonably do (as a reasonable person) to get the other person on your side.

Don't fake it. Hold on to your boundaries and your integrity and don't accept the burden of shame from another person (or even yourself, for that matter). You don't have to fall on your own sword multiple times to get the other person to forgive you. If you find yourself doing this, it might be a sign that the other person is just not willing to let it go.

And that's not something you can control.

The INTP & Conflict: Getting along without going along

So you've apologized without defensiveness or shame. Next up, to improve the relationship:

Give detailed, specific, positive feedback at every opportunity

This may go against your nature, somewhat, as in, "Of course he knows I think he's doing good work. We don't need to say it out loud" or "Of course she knows I love her. Romance is stupid."

But not everyone has this same attitude. You might need to verbalize the "obvious" for people to feel liked or appreciated, rather than tolerated or taken for granted.

Just be honest. You don't have to fake it. If you don't mean it, don't say it. If it feels at all icky or manipulative (as when you do this with a boss or a person in a position of power), just remind yourself that you are simply stating what you actually feel or think. Role-play with a friend if you have to.

If you worry about your tone of voice (I tend to sound innately skeptical in almost every interaction), write it instead.

You can do it!

Cultivate Gratitude about the little things

It's easy for me to be negative and critical, rather than cultivating gratitude for the little things in life. Honestly, I don't think my personality is going to change anytime soon (intensity FTW), but I do recognize and appreciate the people around me who always seem to look on the sunny side of life.

I mean, sometimes they irritate the crap out of me.

But more often than not, they defuse some of my own negativity.

Hang out with these people, if at all possible. They might not help you give more of a f***, but they can help soften a few of your rough edges.

It is possible to get along without going along--to hold on to your best qualities as an INTP (independence of thought and action, for example) without being a complete asshole.

For help dealing with the INTP in your life, go here.