December 15, 16, 17: Don't Talk to Me About It, Optimism, Addicts, and Magical Thinking

"Life," said Marvin, "don't talk to me about it."

I'm with Marvin, the clinically depressed robot, on this one tonight.

For the past three days, all I've been doing is writing and grading and working.  Sunday night, I slept for two hours or so.  Yesterday, I didn't go to bed.  I stayed up grading until 4:30 this morning.  Then I slept for about an hour or so, got up, and graded some more.  Finally submitted my final grades for the semester at 10:30 this morning.  Then I went to work.  Then, a therapy appointment. Came home, got changed, and dashed off to my son's choral Christmas concert at school.  Now, I'm home.

But this blog post is about none of that.  It's about optimism and a conclusion I arrived at this evening.

I think I need to stop being an optimist.

Optimism is all about believing and hoping for the best in everything.  If I go to the doctor with a persistent cough (and I'm an optimist), I will believe that it's just bronchitis and not stage 4 lung cancer.  If I go to the grocery store at Christmas time (and I'm an optimist), I will buy that bottle of holiday wine AND a present for my Secret Santa at work, believing my debit card will not be declined.  If I have an alcoholic or addict in my life (and I'm an optimist), I will believe that my addict is just having coffee with a friend like he said instead of hitting Pat's Bar at 10 a.m.  If there's a presidential election coming up (and I'm an optimist), I will believe that Donald Trump will lose the election, be arrested in the ballroom where he was supposed to deliver his victory speech, and be led away in handcuffs to a federal penitentiary where he will spend the rest of his life behind bars--instead of Donald Trump calling Vladimir Putin to thank him for helping him win again.

You see what I'm saying.  Sometimes optimism strikes me as a form of magical thinking.  Magical thinking is the belief that your thoughts, wishes, and desires can influence the external world.  If you've seen Field of Dreams, it's the whole "if you build it, he will come" thing.  In the short term, magical thinking can help you cope with difficult situations.  In the long term, it leads to disappointment, heartbreak, and (if continued) clinical depression.

Let me explain it another way.  If I call a phone number and expect to speak with my best friend, but the number is out of service, I just keep calling the same number, over and over, expecting a better outcome each time, because that's what I want and desire.  That's magical thinking.  It's unhealthy and unproductive.  And I think optimism falls under the umbrella of magical thinking sometimes.

Tonight, I was disappointed by the actions of a person I know.  The optimist/magical thinker in me has been walking around, semi-believing that this person was getting better, seeking help, finally being honest with himself.  He wasn't, and that truth really made me angry, disappointed, and sad all at the same time.  He is walking down a path of self destruction, engaging in his own form of magical thinking.  That's what people with addictions do, I guess.

Here's how it works.  I'm an addict, but I don't want to give up my addiction.  So, I tell myself, hey, it's only one drink or one pill or one trip to the casino or one sexual encounter.  I can handle that.  It's not going to hurt anyone.  So I do it.  And then I do it again, because the first time wasn't so bad.  And then again.  And again.  And again. And again.  All the while, I tell myself that I'm not hurting my spouse.  I'm not gambling with mortgage or rent money.  I'm not choosing to neglect my children or job or other responsibilities.

Of course, that's all magical thinking.  An addict does all of those things.  He hurts his spouse.  He gambles and spends the grocery money and mortgage payment.  He neglects his kids.  He does all these things until his spouse kicks him out.  He loses his house.  His kids always expect him to lie and disappointment them.  By the time the addict has a moment of clarity, it's too late.  He's alone.  Homeless.  Sick.  Jobless.  No place to turn,  All his bridges are piles of ashes at the bottom of deep canyons.

So, I am going to go to bed tonight and pray for this person, as I have been for a while.  Some people say that prayer is a form of magical thinking.  I don't think it is.  Prayer is simply about giving your worries up to God, saying, "I can't handle this one.  It's up to You."

Saint Marty is bone tired at the moment.  Life.  Don't talk to him about it.