As I'm sometimes wont to do, I've reprised, amended, and am re-publishing a blog post originally written in 2013:
Would it be accurate to say we all live in little boxes? Think about that.
Back in 1962, Malvina Reynolds wrote a song called
"Little Boxes". It was also used as the theme song for a Showtime TV series called Weeds. What's striking about the song is how the lyrics fit so timelessly and so well in today's collective psyche even as they did back in 1962 and, arguably, even way before that.
Weeds starts out with
"Little Boxes" playing while showing what can only be taken as business people in lock step backing their virtually identical black four door sedans out of their driveways simultaneously to go to work, all in sync, all in one direction, all of them filing out the gated community one after the other, sort of representative, as
myth would have it, of lemmings on their trek to the cliff ledge high above the jagged seashore, waves pounding relentlessly on the rocks far below.
Later episodes would show something similar but along the same lines - things like joggers...all of them timing their heart rates, holding their wrists, taking their pulse while running in-place on residential street corners waiting to cross the busy intersection, people all out mowing their manicured lawns, washing their cars, etc., etc. In other words, depicting the 'normal' routines so many of us buy into virtually every single day of our lives.
We become inured to this routine whether we want to admit it or not. It is, after all, representative of our daily lives. It really doesn't matter if you live in a more rural community, a more metropolitan area either urban or suburban, or somewhere else like on a farm or a ranch. We ALL live in our own little boxes, our homes. It doesn't matter where. The routines each of us have are similar to the routines of others, but different, too. Even within nuclear families individual members construct their own little boxes that reflect their own routines, their own schedules, their own activities, their own perceptions, their own biases and prejudices.
For example, some of us like our jobs. Some of us love our jobs. Some of us learn to like our jobs. And, some of us learn to
eventually love our jobs over a period of time.
Others of us hate our jobs - we can't wait to find something else that might work better for us - we're almost always on the lookout.
Some of us stay in our jobs simply because, although we despise the work, the pay is good. But, if something better comes along, some of us do just about anything in order to land those kinds of jobs. Some will get those jobs - others will not. Some will be disappointed in their failure. Others will get on with their lives as if nothing happened.
It's probably pretty safe to say most of us unabashedly love our families. But, it might also be safe to say some only like their families. And, some might even feel trapped with their families, right or wrong.
Some of us get really frustrated with members of our families - kids in particular....doggone kids! Babies wonderful. Terrible twos....not so much, but certainly tolerable. Just wish they'd grow up. They grow up way too fast. They go brain dead upon reaching their teenage years and puberty. When they get to twenty-something, they suddenly just seem to magically get smarter. As they get older, their parents can even become much smarter to them. Who'd a thunk it?
Some kids love school. Some kids hate school. Some like it, but are also sort of ambivalent about it. Others grow to embrace it. Everyone is different.
Some of us have more patience in dealing with these kinds of frustrations than others. To some, family is everything. To others, family is secondary to their job.
No two individuals can really be classified as having the same perspective about family, home, or job because they live with their own family, in their own home, and work in their own job, and they are different from everyone else. After all, their family history helps define who they are more so than just about anything else in their lives. That's what makes humanity unique in and of itself.
So, we get accustomed, we fall into a routine, we live in our own little box, our home, and life goes on.
Our world becomes limited, if you will, to our work, our family, our jobs.
Some of us attend religious gatherings, church services - all faiths, all religions.
Others view nature as their only spiritual need.
Some of us take vacations. Others consider a trip to a used car lot, or a mall, or the movies, or even a day trip as a kind of vacation. Others claim they don't have time to do any of these things...that their jobs are too demanding that way.
The truth is the degree to which we survive, at least in this consumer driven economy we've kind of had engineered for us by design, depends on how much we make, whether we are a one-income or a two-income family or whether we even have a job, whether or not we are a single parent, how many children there are (if any), and so on. Some of us work weekends. Some have weekends off. Some work the night shift. Some work part time. Some are executives. Some are laborers. Others are somewhere in between.
It's the same, but different. Make sense?
We also tend to think of others as leading similar lives to our own even if we can visibly see minor differences in how we live. We don't generally recognize the differences in each of us that also makes us unique. "People should just think like me" can become a very pervasive mentality if we aren't careful. So can "I'm right and you're stupid" if we don't agree with something someone else believes. Judgment, sometimes very harsh judgment, of others becomes a sort of norm for some. Opinions become more important than factual information.
We've all heard the cliché, "thinking outside the box". What exactly does that mean, and how does it apply to each of us? Is it only applicable in a business sense with related ideation....profit motive? Or, are their other applications? Something perhaps along the lines of what happens when our individual routines are disrupted? What if the disruption just happens to be a trauma of some kind - say, a physically debilitating trauma?
In the show, Weeds, the main character's husband dies suddenly from a heart attack. She is then literally forced to think outside her comfort zone, her little box. She chooses to start a business growing, and selling, weed from her home. The series expands from there. She involves members of her own family in this business including her children and her brother-in-law. The journey they make is a rough one. As the business grows, others are brought into the fold...neighbors, business associates...friends. Meanwhile, life goes on as it always has for the vast majority of everyone else surrounding this particular little box. These people acknowledged the trauma suffered by the family of the main character, but that particular trauma did not stop them from carrying on with their normal routines.
If a trauma occurs in our lives, does it force us to think outside our own individual box like the main character in Weeds? Might this be another application of something that actually requires us to think outside our own box? Of course it is. But, we must also ask ourselves whether or not it allows for personal growth. Perhaps we let it restrict our personal growth instead. It all depends on the individual. Does it involve family? Maybe extended family? How about friends? Neighbors? Business associates? Does it even consider that life goes on uninterrupted for the vast majority of everyone else surrounding the issue of our own trauma in our own little box? We must then also reconcile how much, if at all, we wish to keep our own individual trauma 'out there' for others to be able to see, to feel, to experience.
When the trauma is more significant, more long term, like a disabling injury to someone in the family, a new life paradigm arguably must occur, not only for the person with the disability, but for others close to them, as well. Whether this new paradigm becomes a festering sore or a new opportunity for those involved is an inherent risk based on the family's strengths or dysfunctions prior to the event, itself.
A 're-education' must take place, an adaptation, if you will, to life after the trauma. The re-education/adaptation isn't something limited only to the person suffering from or injured by the trauma. It's something everyone close to them must undergo as well. In other words, learning how to cope, how to understand, how to adapt, how to survive, how to live again isn't limited solely to the individual disabled by the trauma itself.
Physical disability, mental impairment, age related mobility, birth defects, special needs, post traumatic stress disorder, and so many more...are all things that require us to adapt right alongside those affected by the trauma itself.
Closeness to the trauma, however, must be put into its proper context, as well. For example, the individual injured in the traumatic event is, by virtue of their condition, obviously the person most directly affected - ergo their struggle to adapt to their own new paradigm for living within their own new little box.
By the same token, those closest to the person injured, by virtue of the effect the trauma has on their loved one and on them, personally, and how they are now required to interact with the injured individual, must also adapt thus creating their own new little boxes.
The dilemma then becomes one of how much must all these new little boxes all look the same. How far must those closest to the person injured bend their own new life paradigm, their own new little boxes to accommodate the person injured?
Does the injured individual now command center stage? Should what they want be lumped in with what they actually need and be put first and foremost? Is there a clear separation between the two? Should there be?
At what point do the needs of the other members of the nuclear family get shoved aside or diminished, or once again be brought to the fore? Is this a gradual, almost imperceptible process? Or can it be something much more sinister over the long term?
How do the wants and needs of the community at large surrounding this trauma factor into this equation?
Attempting to concurrently develop a 'new' world view based upon, and now required by, their individual situations as a direct result of that trauma may become problematic for some, a challenge to overcome for others, a defeat for still others, and even a conscious choice for others. It all depends upon the individual's personal makeup and the choices each of them are willing and/or capable of making.
And, therein, lies the problem faced by loved ones attempting to help, support, nurture, and love those who've been injured by the trauma itself.....that person's caregivers, if you will.
Those caregivers may face anger, temper tantrums. They may face reluctance. They may face defiance. They may face refusal to do things necessary for healing, both physical and emotional. They may face selfishness like they've never seen before. They may face unalterable choices made by their loved ones, both physical and emotional. In fact, most caregivers will face these kinds of obstacles in some form. That's simply an undeniable reality.
They, right alongside their loved ones, may face further trauma:
Multiple surgeries...
Depression
Anxiety
Frustration
Paranoia
Threats of suicide
Attempts at suicide
Successful attempts at suicide
And so much more.
The question then becomes one of how to deal with all of these issues?
How hard does one 'push', especially knowing just how much the victim of trauma has already been through...already endured...already suffered?
How much should one be willing to sacrifice their own needs to accommodate the wants and needs of their loved one still struggling with their injuries, both physical and emotional?
Must everything be put on hold to do this?
Must everything be sacrificed in the all consuming effort to ensure the recovery of the victim of the trauma.
At what point does the use of the term 'victim' become problematic?
Or will these individuals always be a victim?
Should they be allowed to remain a victim, or should they be nurtured toward being someone who won't let their victim-hood define who they are or who they will be?
When is enough enough? Where does the pain begin to end and the healing actually, truly begin?
The photo above has no attribution other than the note at the bottom:
"Lessons Taught by LIFE". There is a Facebook page that shared it, in addition to the one I linked to below the photo. Here's the link to that Facebook page:
Caregiver quotes.
As soon as I saw the photo, I knew I had to include it in this essay because it resonates with me on a very deep personal level.
The message in the photo prompted a question in my mind I've long sought an answer to with little to no success:
At what point must one also make a conscious decision to back away, to let some of the chips fall where they may, and to hope for the very best for the individual being cared for?
There will be no owner's manual for caregivers, especially in my own situation. All there will be is the individual caregiver's own sense of right and wrong, of caring, of unconditional love being offered with no strings attached. Decisions made are decisions that must be lived with and reconciled individually. Not everyone will agree with those decisions. The lengths to which those who disagree are willing to go to prove their point can be either uplifting or devastating to others.
Of course, there will also be the knowledge there are professionals whose job it is to try to help guide each person's journey based on their own personal and professional experiences, and the hope those professionals know what the hell they're talking about.
Counselors, psychologists, psychiatrists, physical therapists, occupational therapists, members of the clergy, community organizations, government agencies - all are a part of the mix. Add to that mix the possibility these professionals may not even have an owner's manual on how to respond to certain traumas and a recipe for disaster can begin brewing in the background behind all the external influences, beyond the comprehension of anyone involved including professionals in their areas of expertise.
How much should each and every single family member be involved in reconstructing their own little boxes right alongside the individual injured by the trauma? Should they be forced to help in the re-construction of the victim's little box? If they choose not to be actively involved, is it their fault? Should they be given some slack? What if they snap? What if they lose it? Who suffers then?
What about extended family members? Blood relatives - brothers, sisters, cousins, aunts, uncles, grandparents? What about step-brothers, step-sisters, step-mothers, step-fathers, step-grandparents, step-aunts, step-uncles, and step-cousins? Whose wants and needs should be placed first and foremost? Or, should they be at all? How are each individual's wants and needs to be balanced in this equation?
Again, no owner's manual. Walking a tightrope like this can, in and of itself, be a traumatic experience, especially if the caregiver loses their balance, or if they have their balance knocked right out from under them as a result of their efforts to help and they must then depend upon others as their own safety net to fall into.
Finally, there's always a possibility a kind of 'damned if you do, damned if you don't' scenario will rear its ugly head at some point in the re-construction process.
Regardless, we will re-construct our own little boxes based on our own life experiences and the choices we make from then on. Choices made by others are outside each of our own individual control and purview.
We can, and often times do, reflect with concern over some of the choices others make, but in the end, we have little or no say in how those choices will manifest in results over the long term re-construction of someone else's little box...especially if they construct something for themselves while refusing to even acknowledge that their specific trauma has affected others who might just be making their own life altering sacrifices in order to help as best they can given the hand that life's circumstances have dealt them. In these types of instances, the only real control we have is of our own making and that reflects how we choose to respond to those circumstances.
For those readers who've experienced something similar to what's in this post, you'll know exactly what's being put forward herein. For those who've yet to experience their own personal trauma, whether to yourself or to a loved one, the intent here is to give you some food for thought, some advance knowledge of questions you may want to consider asking yourselves.
In case you, the reader, haven't surmised it already, this essay encapsulates my life as a caregiver, both pre-Columbine massacre as caregiver for my first wife, Carla, who was diagnosed with, and suffered from, delusional paranoia with psychotic episodes, and post-Columbine massacre as caregiver for both Carla and my daughter, Anne Marie, who was critically injured in that massacre and was disabled as a result of her injuries. My journey as a caregiver for Carla ended October 22, 1999 when she completed suicide 6 months after the massacre. My role as caregiver for Anne Marie effectively ended on less than amicable terms around Christmas of December, 2009. My journey of healing is ongoing.
And so it goes. Life does go on. It's all in how we choose to let life shape us that will ultimately define who we become, no matter what life might have in store.
My two cents.
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