3:03am December 16, 2013

➸ Another thing about the anti-political nature of therapy culture

lillianmmalter:

lookninjas:

madeofpatterns:

Therapy culture will tell you that if you are getting hurt doing a thing, you should stop doing the thing and take care of yourself.

But sometimes that’s not actually the right things to do.

Some worthwhile, vitally important things are not safe. Particularly in politics…

Let’s talk about ignoring pain for a second, because I have some experience with this:

When I first started running, I very quickly and very easily fell into that mindset that “Pain Is Temporary; Pride Is Forever.” I’m a sucker for that kind of talk anyway, always have been, and it was very very easy for me to convince myself to ignore all kinds of aches and twinges and little small pains, to convince myself that they were minor and honestly most of them were.

But then there were the shin splints. Common enough running injury, for which the primary recommended cure is rest and recovery. But I couldn’t rest — I was making so much progress! I’d come so far and I’d done so much and I couldn’t stop when I had such good momentum. I had to keep going.

So I ran. And then I’d ice my shins a little or maybe do some calf raises and then run some more. I’d stretch extra-good and run some more. Tape my shins. Run some more. New shoes. Run some more. Run some more. Run some more.

You can see where this is going. I couldn’t, because I was in that mindset that a little pain is necessary for a big gain, but you can.

One afternoon, I set out on an easy, bread-and-butter run. Four miles, moderate pace. Nothing that should have hurt anything and yet a mile and a half from my house, I felt the dull throb in my left shin turn into a sharp spike of pain, followed by a vicious cramp so intense that I immediately teared up. No amount of stretching or walking would ease the pain. No clumsy massage could soften the muscles. I limped home, in tears, feeling like my life was over.

Three days later, I wrote it off as a fluke, and tried to run again, to push through the pain.

I didn’t run again for two months and it took me another month to be able to run without the perpetual fear that I was going to feel that pain and that, this time, it wouldn’t go away.

But this is running. Not politics. I can stop running for two months and there will still be some food left in the food banks. Social Security, Medicare, various other public assistance programs — these will still not cease functioning because I couldn’t run. My ability to run does not affect the fight for equal rights; it does not speed or slow the progress of practical gun control legislation.

Tell me — who does weeds’ job if she burns out tomorrow and can’t work for two months? How can any movement possibly be successful if the people who do its work are perpetually pushing themselves to collapse?

I’m all for learning to work with discomfort without letting it stop you. I’m a runner, still and hopefully always — discomfort is what I do. But there’s a constant weighing and measuring and balancing — where does the discomfort turn into pain and how do I prevent pain from becoming injury. And if I have to pause what I’m doing — not stop, but pause —then I pause. And if I have to rest and recover, I do that. Because if I don’t do that, then I will have to stop. For good. And I don’t want that.

Do we really want our activists, our freedom fighters, our heroes, to have to stop for good? To push themselves so far that they can no longer function?

I don’t fucking think we do.

Recovery is as necessary for the brain as it is the body. Moreso, in fact. And it’s every bit as important in politics as it is in athletics, if not moreso. And telling anyone, no matter who, that they have to push past the pain — not discomfort, but actual pain — in order to do anything they need to? Is cruel, pointless, abusive, and yes, pathological.

The world needs activists. Not martyrs.

That bit about pausing, not stopping? I stopped. I got so burned out sacrificing my economic security and mental well-being for a cause which hasn’t seemed to produce tangible results in years that I got jaded and stopped caring. I still don’t trust the worthiness and ability for change of nonprofits as a direct result of how burned out I got. I still talk about my old job in terms of not wanting to sell my soul to the cause, that’s how fucking devoted they expect people to be there, despite the fact that they, as an organization, don’t affect real change anymore. Kind of the opposite of what anybody wanted, really.

The kicker is, I wasn’t even doing the heavy lifting, because, news flash, not everyone is suited to marching on capitals or canvassing cities or throwing their bodies into physical harm’s way to make a political point, nor should they be. Sometimes change happens gradually, generationally, in small ways and slightly larger ways you barely notice until you look back on history and say, “Oh, that was different when I was younger.”

So don’t bitch at me with your absolutes, OP, because even “lazy” people who aren’t “politically engaged” are doing things to change the world, and they’re probably doing it in a more long-lasting way than this burned-out ex-activist ever did when she thought she was actively fighting for progress.

That’s *not what I was talking about* in my post, though.

I agree that activists need to take care of themselves, and that it’s a problem that they get pressure not to notice what their work is doing to them. I absolutely agree with that. I can see how my post looked like I was disputing that, but I’m not.

My post was about pressure I’m getting to give up things I damn well ought not to give up. Pressure to see being well-adjusted and avoiding pain as an overriding goal regardless of what it costs me.

I’m not talking about things like organizations pressuring people into running themselves into the ground, and people buying into the notion that doing so is noble.

I’m talking about people saying that it’s wrong to protest or fight any battles ever, because people who fight battles get hurt.