Dear Peter:

I admire your commitment to self-reflection and growth. The exercises you mentioned are intriguing ways to explore and appreciate your past without being constrained by it.

“It might be interesting exercises to try to re-write the old stories or journal entries while trying to avoid labeling language. My first attempts were surprising. Without the labels it seems to free the memories, allowing them to flow…. they didn’t become the emotions in the moment, so I didn’t relive the experience by bring the past into the present”-

– okay, I just dug into the very thick folder of my journal entries and typed out this portion of what I shared on May 18, 2013 in regard to my mother, with whom I was still in contact at the time, exactly as it appears on the paper: “Once somebody has hurt you TOO MUCH, for TOO LONG, TOO OFTEN, TOO COMPEHENSIVELY, TOO PERSISTENTLY, TOO BLINDLY to your suffering, and with NO APOLOGIES, NO ASKING FOR FORGIVENESS…, you don’t want any contact with that person… Any such contact is humiliating and a further victimization to the victim of the perpetrator… It is infuriating to me, the perpetrator’s expectation, as well as society’s expectation, that I continue contact with my perpetrator because she is my mother… No contact is necessary for me… for my sense of self-respect, self-compassion- for my sense that I am taking a stand. For as long as I continue contact, I deny and minimize my own experience of so many years. I deny and minimize my decades-old desire to have no contact with her. I NEED to have no contact with her and in so doing TAKE A STAND. Be believable in that she really, really hurt me”.

In the above entry, there are many labeling words, and in big case letters. Some of them are: “TOO MUCH, for TOO LONG, TOO OFTEN, TOO COMPREHENSIVELY, TOO PERSISTENTLY, TOO BLINDLY”- words that emphasize the extent and intensity of the hurt I experienced; “NO APOLOGIES, NO ASKING FOR FORGIVENESS”- words that highlight the lack of remorse or acknowledgment from my perpetrator; “humiliating”- a word that conveys a strong negative judgment about the contact with her; “infuriating”- a word that describes my intense emotional reaction to the societal and perpetrator’s expectations to maintain contact; “perpetrator”- a word that assigns a specific role to the person who caused harm; “victim”- a label assigns a specific role to the person who suffered harm.

There are advantages of using labeling language in contexts as in the above: it helps to clearly express the intensity and nature of emotions. Words like “infuriating,” “humiliating,” and “victimization” communicate strong feelings and make it evident how deeply I was affected by her. By using these labels, I tried to validate my own emotions and experiences (something extremely important in the face of lacking external validation). These labels provided immediate context and understanding to anyone reading these words: words like “perpetrator” and “victim” quickly establish the roles and dynamics in the situation.

My labeling language communicated the severity of my experiences. Repeating words like “TOO MUCH,” “TOO LONG,” and “NO APOLOGIES” highlights the persistent and comprehensive nature of the harm.

I needed to use labeling language to effectively communicate (or try to communicate) the depth and extent of the hurt I experienced. It helped me to articulate the profound impact of the abuse and neglect I endured. By labeling my experiences, I was seeking recognition and validation of my suffering (seeking my own recognition and validation and that of anyone reading or listening to me), trying to ensure that my pain is acknowledged and taken seriously. It helped me assert my need for no contact as a necessary boundary for my well-being. It communicated the importance of this boundary clearly and strongly.

Labeling my experiences empowered me to take a stand. It reinforced my decision to protect myself from further harm, and it helped me to challenge societal expectations that I should maintain contact with my perpetrator. It highlighted the injustice of these expectations and reinforces my right to prioritize my own well-being.

Labels like “infuriating” and “humiliating” communicate the injustice and absurdity of being expected to maintain contact with someone who caused significant harm.

If I was to re-write the above (today) without labeling language, it’d be something like this: “My mother caused me significant and repeated harm over a long period, without acknowledging my suffering or seeking forgiveness, and maintaining contact with her was extremely challenging. The contact with her felt disempowering and harmful. I find it difficult to accept the expectation from both my mother and society that I should continue contact because she is my mother. Establishing no contact is important for my sense of self-respect and self-compassion, and it allows me to assert my boundaries. Continuing contact means diminishing my own experiences and long-held desire for separation. I need to establish no contact to honor my own feelings and experiences and to acknowledge the impact of the harm I have endured.”-

– By removing labeling words, the narrative becomes more neutral and objective, and it encourages you, the reader, to interpret my experiences and emotions based on your own perspectives, without being influenced by my pre-assigned judgments.

Removing these labeling words is supposed to (so I am reading online this morning) support my healing process by allowing me to process my experiences without being overwhelmed by the intensity of labeling judgments. Without labeling, there is supposed to be a sense of emotional detachment from the events, which can make it easier to process and reflect on them without being overwhelmed.

To the right above, I say this morning, more than 11 years since my massively LABELING writing above, that using non-labeling, more neutral and objective language would have harmed me, because I desperately needed MY voice to be heard. Following a lifetime of not being seen or heard, I (me, myself) needed to be seen and heard.

Fast forward, now, being that I did cut contact with my mother shortly after that journal entry (May 2013), now that I did protect myself, I can see the benefit in using non-labeling language because it allows the reader to feel what he/ she would feel, based on his/ her life experience, reading about my experience, and not feel weighed down/ limited by my strong emotions.

Although I see it as a disadvantage to un-label my journal entry back on May 18, 2013, I see un-labeling advantageous in the context of much lesser impactful interactions with people. Example, an original journal entry: “I felt so angry when my friend didn’t show up for our meeting. It was so rude and disrespectful of her. I can’t believe how thoughtless she is. This always happens, and it’s incredibly frustrating. I always feel like I’m the one who cares more in this friendship.”

Rewritten without labeling language: “When my friend didn’t show up for our meeting, there was a strong emotional response within me. The situation triggered a reaction where I experienced intense feelings. I noticed that this event reminded me of past experiences where I felt similarly. It seems like I often find myself in situations where I question the dynamics of my friendships, and the level of care involved.”

In the revised version, the emotional reactions and thoughts are described without labeling the emotions as “angry”, “rude”, “disrespectful”, “thoughtless”, or “frustrating”. Instead, the focus is on the experience and observation of the emotions, allowing for a more neutral and reflective narrative. If the revisited version is followed by The Rule of Charity, let’s say, it can lead to a more balanced and true perception of the friend, leading to empathy and calming the anger.

On the other hand, empathy for my mother was the ongoing experience that has kept me in contact with her for way too long. More empathy for her in 2013, would have kept me imprisoned for longer, making it a lifetime of devastation for me.

See, I just used strong, labeling words: “a lifetime of devastation”, and I used those words because my mother has been, truly, a lifetime devastation for me: although much healing has been done, still- every day, almost every moment of every day- I experience an intense physical tension, a physical disquiet that accompanies these tics- my left shoulder twitching just now, here’s a tic involving my neck, here’s the usual trouble to extend my belly so to breathe comfortably. This is a physical- neurological and permanent damage that my mother inflicted on me.

It is not possible for me to undo/ reverse this particular damage- no matter what I do or don’t do, and for how long- same as a victim of chronic neurotoxicity (long-term damage to the nervous system caused by exposure to toxic substances, an irreversible damage which includes symptoms like tremors, rigidity, and involuntary movements) cannot undo or reverse their damage, no matter how much and for how long they try, no matter how much anger they release, no matter how much therapy they receive. Some things can’t be reversed.

Another permanent damage is my ADHD and learning disabilities (trouble with memory and processing information), which is the reason why I write (or type) so much, ever since I was able to write. It helps me process information. And processed, I forget and have to re-process. Actually, I just exhausted myself processing and typing so much in this post. I hope that it wasn’t too for you, Peter? If you’d like, I can submit shorter posts for you in the future.

anita

Dear Peter:

Thank you for the quick and genuine-feeling reply, it makes me smile because of the personal feel of it.

Exhausted I am indeed, so I’ll get back to you Fri morning.

Anita