Fable

If you can relate, then you should download Furies!

From the book:

First thing this morning, computer disaster! I blew my iTunes library all to hell when I reformatted the wrong hard drive. The last seven hours were a computer nightmare, without food, without a bathroom break, and finally with a migraine headache. I needed to eat. I walked into the kitchen, ready to break something.

I watched my son struggle with the peanut butter jar and wondered if he felt like I did - frustrated beyond any justifiable reason.

No. I have worked with computers for years. My frustration is a kind of attachment trauma. Computers are probably just Harlow monkey experiments on a global scale.

Imagine you are working on the computer and your hard drive starts clicking, the screen freezes and then the only moving thing is the mouse cursor. Imagine waiting for an important e-mail, but the internet is down for no reason. What if you decide to call tech support and their first question is some version of - “is your computer / printer / router / monitor turned on?” I feel rage in these moments. Why? Because I cannot fix the problem, I can't get someone to help, and it makes no damn sense!

How should we describe our experience in such moments? People feel more harm from loss than reward from an equal gain. Aren’t we better off looking for the blessing, the benefit, the reward, the silver-lining, and avoiding the recognition of loss? We try to spin our story of the experience. We hope to create some emotional gain and limit possible harm. Modern pop-psych, aspirational descriptions do so:

• The computer problem is just a challenge to overcome.
• The internet chat boards are very helpful with computer troubles.
• In the grand scheme of things, it doesn’t matter.

We split off the painful qualities of adverse events. What if we use realistic terms such as “victim” or “helpless?” We feel unnerved. We rebel against the label “victim” even as we feel self-pity. We grasp for affirmative terms, such as “resource” or “capacity.”

If we don’t know where we hurt, how can we care for ourselves? Our hurt is where the Furies are, and that is where we work.