Friday Five: Cat Memes

Because nothing cheers me up quite like cats, here is some feline therapy.

I Hear Voices: Chatter

 

Chatter: The Voice in Our Head and How to Harness It by Ethan Kross

Vermilion

Pp. 171

We’ve all heard the expression, “it’s good to talk’. Yes, but how much, and to whom? Echo chambers can encourage us to wallow in misery, victimhood, or self-righteousness. Communication can help with our problems, however, by allowing us to distance ourselves from them and seeking practical assistance. We spend a lot of our time mentally time-travelling, remembering the future or projecting into the past, all of which can be useful as long as we don’t dwell on the negativity or foreshadow anxious situations. Ethan Kross examines the voice, or voices, in our head, and offers suggestions about which internal monologue and external advisors we should heed.

Talking to others and sharing events can be helpful. It can ‘normalise’ an experience and help a person appreciate that they are not alone. But Kross cautions that we use this sharing function with care and choose the people to whom we discuss issues on a strategic basis. If we rant at our friends about ourselves all the time, they will become disillusioned and uninterested, and feel they have not been heard or supported.

It is important to be able to share, and our support networks are crucial, but if we overshare, not only are we likely to annoy others, we can get caught in a self-destructive feedback loop, especially if we choose the ‘wrong’ people. “Other people can be a tremendous asset, but more often than we realise, they can be a liability too.” While talking about adverse events, we can focus more on the need to repeat and be heard than the need to address the issue and move on.

This process is called co-rumination in which we seek validation from others and it is harmful because, “when we’re upset, we tend to overfocus on receiving empathy rather than finding practical solutions.” While this may briefly feel good, it isn’t useful in the long-term. Naturally, this creates a vicious cycle and one in which it is easy to get stuck. And nowhere does this have greater effect than on social media, which has given us a much wider audience.

One of the ways we can manage these emotions and internal voices is to distance ourselves from them through mental time travel or the simple technique of journaling. Asking people to write about their most upsetting negative experiences for fifteen to twenty minutes leads them to feel better, visit the doctor less, and have healthier immune function. “By focusing on experiences from the perspective of a narrator who has to create a story, journaling creates distance from our experience. We feel less tied to it.”

Mental, physical and emotional welfare can be improved by simply getting out into nature. As well as the health benefits of fresh air and exercise, this is also due to experiencing the phenomenon of awe: “the wonder we feel when we encounter something powerful that we can’t easily explain.” It can be instigated by viewing a sunset or a mountain range and it is considered a self-transcendent emotion in that it allows people to think and feel beyond their own needs and wants.

Marie Kondo fans would be pleased to hear Kross state that imposing order on our environment can help reduce anxiety by getting rid of clutter. “The fascinating thing about seeking compensation for chaos in one area (that is, our minds) by creating order in another (that is, the physical environment) is that it doesn’t even have to have anything to do with the specific issue that is throwing off our inner voice.” It’s a relatively easy thing to tidy a desk, and it can have a highly positive result. Imposing order on situations is the function of rituals, which have a crucial underlying purpose. They reiterate the values of our community and help us to transcend our own concerns, connecting us with forces larger than ourselves.

Distancing is a great tool for normalising challenges, connecting with others and minimising predicaments in our mind. Kross includes a toolkit at the end of the book with practical suggestions on how to give and receive chatter support, from techniques you can implement on your own to those that involve other people. All of these are valuable for those who are overwhelmed by the voices in their head or for those who wish to understand how it affects those who are. For this particular problem, this is a highly recommended self-help book. 

A Doctor Calls: Intensive Care

Intensive Care: A GP, a Community & COVID-19 by Gavin Francis

Profile Books

Pp. 198

Gavin Francis’ memoir about the outbreak of the coronavirus pandemic provides a fascinating first-hand account of how the medical profession dealt with the infection in the face of changing priorities and conflicting information. As a GP in Edinburgh, he also writes proudly of the city’s history, particularly in terms of medical science, and how that relates to current procedures. Published in 2021, this takes a contemporary view of the situation, and certain cautionary tales have proved true in upsetting ways, such as the prioritising of physical health to the detriment of mental health, and the long-term effects of this approach.

We have become inured to the word ‘unprecedented’ – indeed a popular internet meme reads ‘I could really go for some precedented times’ – but the pace of the spread of the virus was extraordinary. Francis writes, “In the space of days, what had seemed like a surreal joke became reality.” Originally doctors were ‘assured’ there was no evidence of human to human transmission, but within weeks the guidelines changed. Doctors dealt with uncertainty, lack of clear messaging and trying to allay fears as well as treat illness.

Of course things are more obvious with hindsight (although this book is written only halfway through the pandemic), and Francis is cautious with his criticism of the politics involved, but he is clearly frustrated about the lack of guidance. He believes that social distancing measures should have been introduced as soon as it became clear that the virus could spread through contact, but understands the hesitancy. While health is his priority – he is a doctor after all – he understands that not everyone will react in the same way. While noting enforced quarantines overseas, he is aware this would be problematic at home. He further appreciates the dichotomy between the suffering of the global economy compared with the recovery of the environment.

There are one or two positives to be drawn from the response to the pandemic, as Francis clutches at straws of hope, such as the speed of the response to the homeless crisis, and the recalibration of which jobs are important, “as if all the old hierarchies were being pushed aside and new possibilities were emerging.”

Some people found that after years of agoraphobia and anxiety, they now felt better as they were not pressured into going out and doing things: introverts were more accepted and acceptable. On the other hand, however, strides taken in the advance of understanding of mental health were now being pushed back. As a GP, his job is to attend to all aspects of his patients’ health, and he finds the crisis causing phenomenal mental health consequences. “Some days every call I took was about loneliness, self-harm, anxiety, panic attacks.” The lockdown may have slowed the pace of transmission, but it provoked “a silent epidemic of despair: panic and anxiety are the virus’s dark refrains, a second pandemic leaching into everyone’s lives.”

Francis writes of the history of epidemics and how public health awareness is the greatest weapon against disease. “More lives have been saved though better housing, sanitation and vaccination than were ever saved by a surgeon’s knife or a physician’s drugs.” He also writes of the development of vaccines and the public attitude to them, both contemporary and historic: it turns out the anti-vax movement is nothing new.

Francis offers some glimpses of hope and humanity, with examples of what we can achieve when we care for each other. But he also presents us with a world that has changed and will never again be the same. How we handle this crisis or challenge depends on our viewpoint and whether we believe in the overwhelming good or bad of society – and yes, there is such a thing.

Hearts and Minds: QED

Ylaria Rogers as Catherine in Proof

Proof by David Auburn

Freefall Productions

The Q, 14 -17 March 2018

A mathematical proof is an argument in support of a statement based on exhaustive logic. It implies a clinical level of control, which David Auburn exploits in his 2000 Pulitzer Prize and Tony Award-winning play Proof. Catherine (Ylaria Rogers) is the daughter of mathematical genius and professor, Robert (Gerard Carroll), who has recently died after a long mental illness. During his increasing insanity she cared for him mentally and physically as she explains in intimately heartbreaking detail.

Her sister, Claire (Julia Christensen), who has escaped filial duty in New York as a currency trader, returns for the funeral and to sell the house. Her bags may be light but her baggage is not. Meanwhile, Robert’s former student, Hal (Derek Walker), stumbles across a proof in his mentor’s notebooks that he believes will change the future of mathematics.

On one level the play is simplicity itself, pared back to four characters and a single set. Despite the intellectual subject matter, there is no emphasis on chalk-covered blackboards or complicated-looking equations; we never see the experimental scribblings as they are contained in innocuous-seeming notebooks. The action all occurs outside the house, set on an oblique angle across the stage, featuring an array of well-tended pot plants in a sort of conservatory and windows covered with sheets through which lights shine erratically during scene changes.

Against this solid backdrop, however, we are in the world of non-linear narrative and imaginary numbers. Robert, whose death precedes the beginning of the play, makes several appearances and gives Catherine a bottle of birthday bubbles, which she drinks with him. Should we see this as an example of her mental fragility or the time-bending possibilities of quantum physics? She, herself believes she may be following her father’s footsteps both in the cerebral world of prime number theory and the irrational realm of madness.

Scratching the surface further uncovers layers of guilt, fear and anxiety, as is felt in all relationships, whether that be between father and daughter; siblings; tutor and pupil; or lovers. Carefully constructed façades crumble just as we are told the house in which Catherine and her father have lived until now is falling to pieces.

While a proof follows logical steps, it may also include natural language – in a mathematical context, this means a language developed and spoken by humans in an organic manner as opposed to a formal language, such as that used to program a computer. This is accepted to admit some level of ambiguity to the deductions, and this production excels in its ambiguity. Those who didn’t know the plot were shocked at the mid-point revelation, although admitting they should have seen it coming; a true testament to expert storytelling.

Tour director, Tyran Parke, and original director, Derek Walker, trust the actors to carry the narrative, and their belief is well placed as all four handle their character with subtlety and sensitivity. The frequent switches in pace and motivation are demonstrated through tone and expression as well as posture and movement. No one resorts to histrionics or excess; all are entirely believable. The role of Catherine is pivotal to the success or otherwise of this play and Ylaria Rogers imbues it with grace and nuance, highlighting every aspect from stubborn anger to enchanting naivety.

They also credit the audience with enough intelligence to reach their own conclusions about the ‘moral’ of the play rather than enforcing any particular agenda or riding any current hobbyhorse. The programme notes state that Freefall Productions wants to give audiences, ‘stories that they can identify with, theatre that touches our hearts and minds.’ With this superb and thoughtful gift of a production, they have done just that.

Alexander Brown as Hal and Ylaria Rogers as Catherine