Thoughts on Empathy

So, in yesterday's post I ranted about some jerk who posted terrible animal torture photos on FB. I alluded to how it'd almost be easier to forgive something so horrific, if you knew that the person wasn't all there upstairs. (Which he most likely is not!)

Anyhow, I was thinking about my rant this morning, and how it applies to other areas of my life. For example, I had to run out to buy some hair dye, and I was debating whether or not to go to the drugstore next door or the one across the street. While it is a whole 30 seconds closer, I tend to avoid the drugstore beside us because of the two boys who work there.

Okay. How can I say this without sounding mean....?

If I knew that they had both suffered some sort of head injury, and that they're part of an 'integration into society' type program, then I'd be totally cool and more accepting of their very odd personalities and mechanical delivery. But otherwise, I find that they just make me uncomfortable. And I know it's not just me who finds them 'off', as Jim has observed the same thing.

I feel bad sharing these ugly thoughts, because I know it makes me look bad. And yet, I wanted to write a post about it, because I'm sure I'm not alone. If we know someone is mentally challenged, we're always empathetic and quick to cut them tons of slack. But if someone appears completely normal, and yet displays some seriously strange personality quirks, it's much easier to judge them or label them a weirdo -- which I know I'm guilty of doing to the two dudes next door.

I don't know... I just don't see how any normal, healthy person would act and talk the robotic way they do. They have no smiles or expression, their statements always have a very odd inflection, and they constantly speak as if they're reading from cue cards. I'm sure that they must be brain damaged and part of some work program. How else can two people work at the same store and both act the same bizarre way?

Anyhow, while this example hits close to home, I have another example that lands even closer. My mom.

Pretty much all my life, I've had trouble having a "normal" conversation with her. I love my mom and have tried to accept the way she is, but I've always found her conversation skills (or lack thereof) very frustrating. She constantly jumps topics mid-stream, which has always made me feel like she's either not listening or simply doesn't care, when I know deep down that's not true.

For example, I could tell her the biggest news of my life, and she would respond in the same breath with something like, "Oh that's wonderful, sweetheart! Congratulations! So the Shellhorn's cut that crabapple tree down in their front yard. Does it ever look different! Your father is at your sister's place baby-sitting the kids, and I'm thinking of taking a bath. I have Cleo here on my lap. She's such a good cat. And... oh, what's her name... the dachshund? Page... or no, Pearly. Pearly. Cleo just babies her to death."

I'm not kidding. This is what talking with my mom has been like since... well, as long as I can remember. But in recent years it has definitely gotten a lot worse... which made us all realize that maybe mom's not so flakey after all, (Ha. Sorry mom, if you're reading this. xo) but that she actually has a real problem.

Mom brought her memory issues up with her doctor, and he told her that fibromyalgia sometimes causes what is known as "fibro-fog". Mom was first diagnosed with fibromyalgia when I was in the first grade... she didn't know of this side affect until just now.  Unfortunately, the medication to treat the other symptoms often makes the mental fog even worse.

With this new knowledge, my sister told me that she finds it easier to accept mom's scatterbrain-ness. Although she told me that it's now impossible to go to the mall with her, as she'll often wander off in another direction. So whenever Amy loses her, she'll tell people she knows who work in the mall, "If you see my mom, tell her to stay put." Eventually mom will show up, hollering down the mall to Amy, "Heeere I aaaam!"Amy said it's much less annoying and actually kind of cute if you just treat her like someone with dementia.... which mom was also tested for a couple weeks ago.

It would not be a surprise if mom had dementia. Apparently my grandpa did, only he hid it quite well. For thirty years or more, he always carried a little notepad in his front pocket, where he'd jot things down throughout the day. As a child, I honestly thought that it was because grandpa was so important, that he had too many things to remember. ;) As an adult, I recognize similar problems in my mom, with her inability to remember anything without posting a big note to herself on the fridge. And just like grandpa use to quickly go through what Jodie n' I referred to as "the role call" whenever he said our names, ("Debbie-Barbie-Dellie-Amy-Jodie-Melodie. Melodie!"), mom displays similar symptoms when trying to recall the names of her pets. Especially Pearl. It often takes mom a moment to remember Pearl's name.

Anyhow, she hasn't heard back yet about her test results, so we're assuming it's not dementia or early-onset Alzheimer's, or she definitely would've heard something by now. (I actually gave mom my copy of "Still Alice" last year, and keep bugging her to read it. Although it'd probably scare the hell outta her, since it had ME thinking that I had early onset Alzheimer's, every time I forgot something!) So, if not dementia, we're thinking mom's problem likely has to do more with the fact that she's suffering from fibro-fog and is doped up on a ridiculous amount of medication for all her other ailments. Apparently, she takes something like 10 different types of pills several times each day, and three of them are heavy narcotics, just a stage or so below morphine. She's been on many of these for YEARS!

Gee... and we all wondered why mom was the way she was?

Her new doctor has started slowly weaning her off a couple of the more powerful meds. His motto is "investigate, then medicate", while her last one was just a professional pill pusher.  It's only been a month since she started detoxing from years n' years of medication, so she still suffers from serious memory loss, although she's become more aware of her habit of jumping conversations mid-stream. Unfortunately, she doesn't realize she's doing it until she's already done it. She also said that as her body goes through withdrawal, she constantly feels like she's drunk.

What a crazy thing!

And so with all this new knowledge over the last few months, instead of struggling with a lack of patience for my mom's frustrating conversations skills, I've found incredible empathy.

I want to try applying this empathy to all areas of my life...  like for cashiers who act like robots. And even in more extreme circumstances where I have to force that empathy, like for assholes who torture animals and then post the pictures on the internet. (Not that there's any excuse... but obviously someone who does something like that MUST have something wrong with them and cannot be completely sane.)

Anyhow... I think that's something I need to work on.

And here ends the therapeutic writing reflection exercise for today. ;)