The Importance of Absence aka The Absence of Importance
This thought is linked to a person I am currently working with and is a product of discussions with my supervisor, so thanks to both of them, but no responsibility attached to either. Also, I have to be a little careful that I don't inadvertently reveal identities.
I expect all of us have been in a situation where we get a sense that we are not being attended to either as much, or in the same way, by a beloved. Often this is the opening act to the opera of being dumped, but before we have reached that conclusion (and it does take time as each of us believes that we are far too wonderful to be dumped, and I am sure that you are) we know that something has changed in that relationship. It could be spending less time together, going out less often, the conversations are less involved, there is less sex. Fundamentally these are all indicators that we are becoming less important, less central, to that other person's universe. We are becoming more absent, and that increasing absence is important.
Some recent research has shown that this kind of rejection is important e.g., Böckler et al (2021). It will come as little surprise that the study is a little artificial (throwing a ball between participants) and that they found that rejection matters. Perhaps most interesting is that the effect of rejection is the same whether one is rejected by someone you know or by a stranger. Why is that interesting? It shows that rejection (or perceived rejection) is a powerful thing.Going back to when your relationships went South. When that has happened presumably you responded so how have you responded? There are probably three options;
1) do nothing
2) react in the same manner - start your own
campaign of alienation
3) try to reclaim your value
If you value that relationship my assumption is that you choose option 3.
So, what do you do? I mean you, what did you actually do?
Do you find ways to be more noticeable, you try to up the sex frequency,
dates, time together, do you change your clothes, act more extravagantly, laugh
more, are more attentive, start bringing gifts, arranging trips, being more affectionate - probably most of us have done things like this and
looking back sometimes when we think about how extreme we went we might think we
were on the border of oddness.
How is your odd relationship behaviour in any way forensic?
For our clients we are trying to bring about change. At one end this might be moving out of a service, perhaps back into the community or to a lower level of security, at the other this may be getting to the end of the intervention we are doing and being discharged from the service or from our responsibility.
Each of these changes could be interpreted as increasing absence.
My client is moving towards discharge and he knows that this means no more of the environment that he is in, no more time spent with me, with other staff, with his ward peers. As he spends more time away from this service, getting to know his new surroundings and the new staff, he is becoming less present, less crucial.
Things are going well. He's being
"good". We don't need to pay so much attention to him as he is doing
well.
When we are good we can be left to our own devices, we don't need attention and motivation, because as far as the world is concerned, everything is alright. If you remember when you were a child, if you were behaving well you were left to get on with playing in the garden. It was only when you starting fighting with your sibling or annoying the dog that someone would come out to see what you were up to, pay you some attention.
In an environment where "good" is the standard expected then one has to be great to be noticed, and then that environment has to welcome and identify greatness. What is greatness in forensic services? What is greatness anywhere?
In an entirely appropriate and positive way my client is fading.
He has 3 options. Of the 3 two of them have the potential to be interpreted as clinically relevant as they are likely to involve behaviours that stand out as different from routine.
If he disengages from psychology and social work and occupational therapy, alienates us, then is this a signal that he isn't ready for discharge, he's still unwell?
If he tries to reclaim his value, to become more present, more central, how does he do that? By demanding attention? How do people get attention in services? Often by doing things that we consider challenging - being more argumentative or stubborn, maybe getting into scraps, using drugs, self-harming, acting out in some way.
When we are terrible we are noticed, that is pretty much a guarantee, and pretty much all environments recognise terribleness.
It is easy to be terrible, it's hard to be good, and for many of us, impossible to be great.
Bugger.
Absence is a part of life. I am partially absent from my parents' lives because I am an adult, so this is to be welcomed. My graduated trainees are absent from my life because they are qualified and the little I had to offer when they were becoming competent they no longer need. I'll miss the discussions, but that's the process of mentorship and apprenticeship. COVID has made us all absent, sometimes partially, sometimes wholly, sometimes temporarily, sometimes permanently. Have we given this any thought, how this fading, changes our behaviour, changes others' behaviour, changes perceptions? Have you felt anxious, scared, let down, curious, relieved, free, and how has this been expressed?
The possibility of absence being important is something that we need to consider in our work; where might it arise, how might it be communicated, what can we do about it? By recognising the importance of absence we can understand behaviour in a different way (i.e., not necessarily evidence of mental illness; maybe as entirely reasonable human behaviour that is true of all of us to some extent, and defined by the context we are in) and be creative in how we respond to that person's genuine fear of absence.
That's the clever bit,
that's the great bit.
Comments
Post a Comment