Scorpions, frogs and reptilian brains

Frank Herbert wrote, in “Dune”, “Fear is the mind killer”, and went on to put forward the view of his sisterhood of manipulators, the Bene Gesserit, that if you were unable to control your fear, you were animal rather than human. The hero, Paul Atreides, undergoes a test in which it appears to him that his hand is being burned away (it isn’t) and he passes the test by not withdrawing his hand to save it. This marks him as being “human”. Or (if you know the story) more scared of his mother than he is of becoming one-handed…

I think I rank as sub-human at the moment, as my anxiety disorder has been re-triggered recently by someone talking about (and wanting me to remember and give evidence about) a part of my past which I would wish were, in Twelve Step terminology, something I did not regret and did not wish to shut the door on. I had thought I had reached that point, but it seems not.

“Sub-human” is, however, perfectly OK in the parlance of modern psychologists, who like to talk about the “reptilian brain” which deals with the most basic urges, the “fight, flight or freeze” responses to perceived threats. I’m dealing with reptilian brain here, then, and not even with the cuddly furry animal “paleaomammalian complex” which deals with food, sex and family, which the Bene Gesserit would probably still think was subhuman. It would seem that I’ve adapted rather badly in the past to a series of traumatic experiences, and the result was post traumatic stress disorder; most of the symptoms associated with that seem now to have diminished to the merely slightly annoying with the passage of time and a lot of hard work, but an elevated level of anxiety seems recalcitrant.

Depression was part of the package as well, but I’ve previously written about how that unaccountably vanished overnight between 25th and 26th May last year, and it hasn’t returned. Would that the anxiety had done likewise!

Until this trigger, I’ve got by by dint of regarding my condition as being analogous to having an adrenaline allergy; I seem to overreact to anything even very slightly startling, as if it were many times more scary than it actually should be. Unfortunately, this includes things which I know 20 or so years ago I would have regarded as “exciting” or “energising”. I take care to limit exposure to anything “exciting”, therefore, and always have an exit strategy should something unforeseen get the adrenaline running. I’ve also trained the system to default to “freeze” rather than a random selection out of fight, flight or freeze, which tends to result in less embarrassment, although it also has meant that when something was thrown at me I sat there and let it bounce off rather than ducking or flinching – and yes, I am very cautious when crossing the road.

The trouble is, the mere mention of a particular individual from my past and his actions seems to have thrown me into a more or less 24/7 freeze this last week, and I don’t like it. Needless to say, he, his actions and my responses figured large in my Steps 4-7 (list of defects, sharing them, offering them to God to remove or not as he thought fit) and in my Steps 8 and 9 (list of persons I had harmed, including myself, and amends to them). Mind you, on reflection, I have not made any amends to him (if indeed any are warranted), as any contact with him by me would inevitably harm others, and I’m not sure how I can make amends to myself for allowing him the ability to mess up my life and those of my loved ones, save for avoiding any possibility of the same thing happening again.

As I’m talking about reptilian brain, I’m reminded of the story of the scorpion and the frog; the scorpion (who can’t swim) asks the frog to carry him over a river. The frog initially declines, as he says “But you’re a scorpion, you’ll sting me to death”. The scorpion responds that if he does, then he will drown as the frog will be unable to carry him, and seeing the logic, the frog agrees. Halfway across the stream, the scorpion stings the frog. As he is dying and dropping the scorpion into the water to drown, the frog says “But why? Now you’ll drown!”. The scorpion replies “I’m a scorpion, it’s my nature”. And, in conscience, I knew this man was a scorpion, and I thought he wouldn’t sting me. Just as the frog followed the logical path and determined that the scorpion would rationally not sting him, so I determined that this person wouldn’t (on this point) deceive me if he were rational. Of course, he wasn’t that rational.

Harking back to my “About” page, this is an issue on which Emotional Chris (EC) and Scientific Rationalist Chris (SR) are at odds. EC had a gut feeling that something was not quite right at the time (as indeed he felt about anything which involved this individual), but SR couldn’t see what was wrong and eventually caved in to pressure. So, of course, EC blames SR for messing up. Again, I was dealing with this guy from the start because he had a hard luck story which engaged EC’s sympathy but left SR shaking his head, so SR blames EC for that, and then again for having a “sod it” moment at the point of making the final “yes/no” decision and not waiting for mature reflection, or rather even more mature reflection, as SR had already done quite a lot of reflecting.

It can be reasonably said that EC and SR both have inflated ideas of the other’s capacities. SR was not allowed to make mistakes (in conscience, I was actually “not allowed to make mistakes”, as anything less than perfection was professional negligence) and EC was not allowed to have impulses and act on them, at least not unless they proved to be beneficial. Putting the two together, it was certainly unacceptable for both reason and instinct to fail – and both SR and EC agree on that. They shouldn’t; in large part the events happened that way because EC and SR already didn’t trust each other.

There has, to be fair, been an advance in the course of the last year; in 2004-2013, frankly, SR and EC each wanted to kill the other, but that has waned as I’ve worked through the situation again and again, and they work reasonably well together now and there’s a fair amount of trust. Do they really forgive each other, though? I could answer “yes” most of the time, but when I’m forced to try hard to recall details of an event from this earlier period, I fear the answer is “no”.

One temptation would be to do a fresh step 4/5 concentrating on scorpion guy, and probably a fresh 8/9. I’m not sure my reptilian brain will let me, though – a lot of the last fortnight has been spent with the “freeze” reaction engaged. At least it isn’t “fight” or “flight”…

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