I’m gonna get a little philosophical on this one. It won’t be pretty, and you’re encouraged to disregard this entry entirely.
Why are we betrayed by our subconscious? Why does the conscience completely wither in some, yet others are driven to self-destruction to save others?
It seems to happen backwards from what you’d think, in fact. People born into a functional, normal family tend to be content to live and let die, to cut their losses when things turn to bullshit. Those who should learn “I’m on my own, and so are they” thanks to drunken stepfathers and molesting grandmothers don’t, instead they often end up martyrs rather than sociopaths. Drawn to the very chaos they consciously seek to escape, recreating the childhoods they don’t want back, yet find a sort of familiar comfort in.
Expert psychologists have described the human psyche as “totally fucked up, dude.” We’re supposed to learn from bad experiences. If you get burned as a kid, you stay away from fire. If your dad is an alcoholic, you find a man just like him. What separates things we learn from from things we recreate?
What makes us decide just who to help, anyway? There’s a strange thing within the US especially with this regarding health care. On the left, you have people who are pro-choice and pro-universal healthcare. On the right, pro-life and anti-universal healthcare. On either side, once you’re born, your status is flipped. And both sides do tend to claim religious doctrine in their favor from the same book, though the right seems to be much more apt to claim said doctrine and ignore the parts within that are pretty clear on Jesus helping the poor and insisting his followers be among them.
Of course, in the interest of full disclosure I might be a little to the left of Castro, somewhere around the Huey Freeman political doctrine, so my opinion here is biased.
That said, it all ties into the great inconsistencies with who we feel for. The same people who will cheer someone on Oprah who overcame an addiction won’t spare a dollar for the man on the street currently fighting it. That same person who doesn’t tip at a restaurant will show up at an ex-girlfriend’s home at 3 AM because she had a fight with her boyfriend. Again. And her husband got involved in it too.
But recognition for having not had three illegitimate children and a crack problem? Doesn’t seem to be much. Come back after you hit the pipe a few times and forget to use a condom, says Oprah! Or at least fake it in a book before coming on the show.
We swear up and down to avoid becoming or dating our parents, then we do anyway. If you’re raised by a heroin addict who humps bears when he’s coming down after running to a bathhouse (uh, do I need to clarify I mean the ursine type, not the gay man type?), against all odds that’s who you’ll end up dating, swearing never to do it again, then thinking about how great that person was to you, when they were awful.
Everyone seems to have that little voice that leads them into trouble, into emotional trauma and repetition, and nobody wants to admit it. That little voice is certain it’s always right, does no wrong, and makes every decision in the span of seconds. It’s like we all have a teeny tiny George W. Bush in our minds, telling us that it’s totally cool to invade Iraq (Visit your ex) because even though we were attacked by people in Afghanistan (a history of molestation), Iraq is way more important than the economy or local issues (this metaphor is stretching horribly but let’s say “your self esteem”). Except for the gays. Those are more important than anything (The metaphor just snapped in the middle, like the broken condom it represents now and the morning after pill you wished you took, except the economy was broken so you thought it might fix it?).
I think I’ve just proven my George theory with that awful series of broken metaphors, and I apologize. I also invite you to replace George W. Bush with Sarah Palin as your inner voice’s gender prescribes.
I’m just going to chalk it all up to the greed of that little voice, that it’s convinced no matter how bad it’s gone before, it’ll totally be awesome this time. You’ll get laid and this time she’ll totally realize the mistake she made by not staying with you (and going to Iraq instead)! Who cares if she freaks out when a relationship gets stable (too much success in Afghanistan?), and goes and cheats on you (uh…here’s that Iraq metaphor again, shit).
And if your boyfriend gets drunk and beat you, it’s just because you didn’t fix dinner right (find WMDs). But you can SAVE HIM (Distract everyone with Iran).
Okay, okay, I’ll stop with the tortured (waterboarded metaphors). Ha, did it again! Just like your ex!
And on that note of bad relationships and metaphors, I think I’m starting to understand why Twilight is so popular.