Impostor!

The impostor syndrome, sometimes called impostor phenomenon or fraud syndrome, is a psychological phenomenon in which people are unable to internalize their accomplishments. Despite external evidence of their competence, those with the syndrome remain convinced that they are frauds and do not deserve the success they have achieved. Proof of success is dismissed as luck, timing, or as a result of deceiving others into thinking they are more intelligent and competent than they believe themselves to be. Notably, impostor syndrome is particularly common among high-achieving women.

I read, or skimmed through really, a book about this years ago when I thought that the idea applied to someone in my work life. I still think it was dead on accurate about this person although I have not seen her in many years and I do hope she is doing better.

I came away from my days studying psychology with a healthy disrespect for the field as it was at that time, 30 or so years ago. One of the things that plagued me and everyone else during this time was the specter of Medical Student Disease.

a condition frequently reported in medical students, who perceive themselves to be experiencing the symptoms of the disease(s) they are studying.This can go on throughout studying a psychology book (and probably a medical book). First you think you have one thing, then you realize that is not that but another. Logic soon prevails that you seem to have symptoms from each disease that you read about and logic pulls you out of any serious thought. Yet, as each disease confronts you on the page, there is that nagging thought that the symptoms fit in some small way.

It was harmless to me but had me up late at night a time or two vacillating between anxiety and hilarity at the idea that I had contracted everything.

The impostor syndrome seems to have some similarity to this. Of course as I was reading the book about the syndrome I was also just a little suspicious that I was an intellectual impostor, which meant I probably could not understand the book very well, which meant I probably was not an impostor as the book would be meaningless to one.

The idea stuck that each of us has a bit of every psychological disease and that it was just a matter of degree.  (I have a similar theory about viruses and many of the more common medical diseases.) Most people, I guessed, had only a small symptom here or there. But as I grew older I started to see that symptoms where all around me. Sometimes I find it surprising when a day goes past  in which I don't notice some rather extreme neurotic symptom in those around me, or in myself.

I noticed that I am far more comfortable with myself than others are. Others worry about one's neuroses too much. They are worriers.

[This was actually written a while back, but I was a little too neurotic to post it. But that is ok. I'm ok, you're ok.]

Hey Go Mad

I had this terrible ear infection over the weekend. I am used to a bit of tinnitus but this time in addition to the high pitched tone there was also a steady lower tone added to it.

I figured this ringtone upgrade was at least proof that we are not static in our old age but it was extremely worrisome. Today the extra ring is gone but there is still a moderate loss in hearing. I assume this will come back but I am just happy that my extra ringtone was not "Hey Jude." For a few years now, despite the brilliance of the Beatles, I knew that I had reached a point of diminishing returns on the song when I could not wait to get to the next song at Paul McCartney concerts.

If "Hey Jude" does become a ringtone in my ears, I shall quite likely go mad.

Not How It Works

Then...

...as I was walking to my car, it hit me. I thought about it for a while and decided it was all pretty much above me. But the next day I was a bit sick. There is not a better time to be depressed.


Then...  as coincidences in time would have it, I opened up the book I had been reading which was "The Critique of Pure Reason."  There it was. The next chapter was about Kant's conception of time.


The world I know is not the world at large. I have  known no criteria for understanding this objective world except my own subjective view and my subjective view of the subjective views of others. Not only did the idea I had as I was walking to the car fit into place but there is no better way to confirm that the world is not just a mishmash than to have a wonderful coincidence. Either my mind was so attuned to Kant from my readings, which I can't believe, or there was just a gigantic coincidence in time.... about time.


The idea I had evolved from two separate sources. One is that I noticed that my friend Ike and I, being born less than a year apart, had a sometimes specific use of words that others do not. He told me that he had not heard a particular word I used in many years: "umbrage." Yet, it was a common word when we were younger together.   


The other source is the old saw that actors and actresses I remember as a child onward are dying off. We both existed in time together.


This made a complete hash of my depression the day before over the world going mad around me. Of course it appears to be going mad to me, because the knowledge I have gained in a lifetime is not the knowledge of those around me. The knowledge I use to understand the world is outdated yet the wisdom... well, I hope there is more of that now.


And compilation of coincidences I have had in my life provides me with the grain of hope that I cling to that might indicate that perhaps.. there is more to this world than meets the eye, especially when one is depressed.

Still Descending...

As time has passed, the world around me seems to be tilting more and more towards madness. It actually appears to be a descent, not the swing of a pendulum. I know a bit about chaos theory. The appearance of the disintegration of people and institutions around me might just be shadows on the wall of Plato's cave, but I have my doubts. It feels so real.

Let me try a different approach, I was born in a world that was highly organized to be what it was. Everything about my conscious life was exactly what it was. I had the feeling that, as I grew, I was learning new aspects of a static thing, the world. I was studying a photo of a flickering candle and basing my whole perception of that candle upon the photo.

I had a few classes in psychology, which of course means that I know everything and nothing at the same time. And thus, I am entitled to speak out without you thinking me mad.

I was always fascinated by those schizophrenic cat paintings. I know I have blogged about them before. It is kind of funny that the world eventually appears either to be a descent into madness or perhaps a metamorphosis into something I never had the possibility of understanding.

I do not envy those who think they understand something, like whether there is a God or not. In the end, I envy no one for their knowledge. The unattainable is not worth the trouble.

But I am stuck with a question that seems so utterly obvious. Why is it that it only occurred to me as a Pink Floyd type of lyric? It is a valid question. Was Louis Wain really descending into schizophrenia or was he merely painting the world as it appeared to be, or frankly, as it was?

http://imgur.com/gallery/15A60

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Louis_Wain

Restful Socializing

I have been taking a well needed break from the social media sphere. And if it continues to work for me... I might disappear in a blinding flash of