Author's note: Many of the posts contained within this blog are personal memoirs. They are mine. They are real. I wrote them as I experienced them. If any story is at all fictional or needs to be attributed to someone else, I will state that firmly in the first paragraph.

Tuesday, November 16, 2010

Emotional Detachment

My entire family has become acquainted with it. My younger brother is still learning it. My older brother has made physical distance his greatest addition to it. My father is the paragon of it. My mother is the antagonist to it who compels the rest of us to strive for it. My sister and I are close, very close to it, and to enjoying the serenity that constantly encompasses my father.
Emotional Detachment. Is there any goal greater than making oneself impervious to the remarks and actions of others?
My quest for emotional detachment began when I was a child. My mother is a compassionate, caring, and fiercely emotional woman. She loves others as she does herself to the most absolute definition of the word. However, I have watched rather insignificant things affect her deeply. The world in which we live and the attachments that we make are undoubtedly based purely on perception. My mother experiences emotion as I have never before seen others do. When she loves, she loves unconditionally. When she cries, she weeps honestly. When she loses her temper, she is infuriated. When she is disappointed, guilt is inescapable to the emotionally attached. I have seen my mother cry for characters in movies and weep for elderly neighbors who have finally passed on. When my mother's own mother suffered an expected death at a very old age, her sorrow permeated the home and left her on an emotional cliffhanger for over a year.
My father, on the other hand, rarely cries. Never have I seen him truly weep. His temper is seemingly nonexistent and his disappointment is fleeting. I witnessed my father receive a phone call about his own mother's death, after which he pensively sat on the couch and never shed a tear.
Growing up, I had the privilege of watching both extremes of this emotional spectrum: my mother and father. As a teenager, I underwent heartbreak and change just as everyone else does. It was during this time that I truly began to emulate my father and his attitude. I did my best to become an emotional stone wall. I lived my life as I wanted to; seeking joy every day, but ignoring situations and interactions that could tip my emotional scale back toward anger or sorrow.
Living in Europe while preaching religion challenged the perceived "perfection" of my emotional detachment. Nothing I did seemed to be successful and our sources of aid were all unexpectedly dry. I was on my own emotionally, and there were no external ways for me to recharge. I sank into a depression that I had only seen but never experienced. I finally glimpsed my mother's world and knew that the only immediate escape was improving my emotional detachment. And so I did. Quickly. I argued when argued with only for the sake of arguing. I responded to hostility with hostility. I responded to joy and success with my own skeptical form of joy. Again I had made myself untouchable and survived with mere emotional scars but no lasting wounds.
Relationships are necessary and unavoidable. Is it possible to form lasting relationships without becoming emotionally attached? No. Not if you want to be a true friend. Learn to flick the switch between emotional attachment and emotional detachment.

2 comments:

Wiser said...

Can I just say, I love the way you write. It's addicting. I look forward to future posts my friend.

Unknown said...

Its true. I am emotionally detached. But I can see that it is not a good way to be. I want to more like your mother. Its like I'm not really living my life. I think that a truly well-balanced emotionally healthy person has real empathy for others. I have empathy, I just don't show it. And if you can't show it, you may as well not have it, as far as others are concerned.