The Power of Negative Self Talk

I've been thinking about writing this post for a while, and I usually sit and hammer out a post all in one go as part of a therapeutic purging but this one I think might take time. We'll see.

I want to talk about the incredible power that your self talk has over your self image. Because I don't think I can understate the incredible difference that this has made in my life. And its still new for me but I want to share because it has been such a change for good, that I can't not share what I've learned with those I love. Ya know?

Some definitions before we start so we're all on the same page. Self talk is the things you say to or about yourself and how you say them. You can say them out loud or in your head, it doesn't matter, they have power either way. These things can be good or bad. And sometimes its not immediately obvious which category they fall under b/c as a society we tend to be fond of self deprecating humor, but that too is often dangerous. I'll talk more on this in a bit.

Self Image is how you see yourself. This includes both your mental image of yourself and what you see when you look in the mirror (which is not usually what is really there but can be strongly altered by the filter of your self image). Some one who is depressed is liable to have a very negative self image and what they see when they look in the mirror might be very accurate on the negative end of the spectrum but they can't see any of the good that others see. Other mental illness such as eating disorders can warp your perspective so badly that while they might look like a holocaust survivor to anyone else, but when they look in the mirror all they can see is a fat person. Literally. Some one with Narcissistic Personality Disorder would look in the same mirror and see only good things (possibly far more good things than are actually there) and none of the bad.

I think one of the healthier goals you can have in life is to have a fairly accurate and overall positive self image.

I'm also going to pull the terms Pride and Self Esteem and in my usage they're not going to be the same thing. Self Esteem is positive self pride - for example - when you are rightly glad and proud of yourself for the good things that you have done and for the accurate evaluation of your own strengths. Its a good thing to have good self esteem. You want to have positive self worth.

Pride in my usage is akin to arrogance and over statement of your own achievements. You fail to recognize the support that others give you in your tasks. Everything you do is good and perfect and wonderful and you did it all by yourself and others should kiss your grits.

Negative Self Esteem is what happens when you feel worthless because you fail to recognize the good and give credit to yourself.

And now I'm going to share w/ you an image that I slaved over in photoshop that, sadly, came as something of a revelation to me in my early 20s. Because somehow I got it into my head as a teenager that there were only two options:

If you said good things about yourself, then you were arrogant and stuck up. And I had been horribly bullied by arrogant, stuck up girls so I desperately didn't want to be like them so I avoided saying anything nice about myself at all costs.

This was bad (also wrong).

The reality is that its a spectrum. There are 3 options and not just two. And like most things, swinging too far in either direction is a bad thing but theres a happy place somewhere in the middle that you want to aim for where life is good. With out further ado here it is:

Aren't you amazed at how beautifully colored and detailed that chart is? I know its amazing. lol. But ya know what? It works great to illustrate my point. Its a spectrum and I've discovered that not only can you say nice things to yourself and about yourself with out becoming one of "Those" people, you SHOULD say nice things to and about yourself because its healthy and does good things for you.

Ya know for years in Psych I read about and was taught about the power of positive and negative self talk. And somehow I just didn't think that really applied to me. Yes, in this one area I had rocks in my head but the good news is that I have learned.

I used to have horrible self esteem and an even worse self image. Looking in the mirror used to reduce me to tears. Literally. When I looked in the mirror all I could see was someone grotesquely obese (regardless of my actual size at the time) and borderline deformed in the face. I couldn't see a single positive thing and all I could see were all the horrible imperfections and it seemed the longer I stared at them the more pronounced the deformation.

And the things I said to myself and about myself were even worse. It started when I was in middle school and people called me an arrogant bitch because I was intelligent and wouldn't let people copy off my papers (because I felt it was morally wrong and I didn't want to be a sinner).

People said I talked funny. (The clearest I could get anybody to elaborate on what it was I was doing wrong, so I could try to fix it, was that it was my vocabulary and I had no idea how to fix that.) But I learned quickly that if I made fun of myself first - that self deprecating humor I mentioned earlier - then it diffused the situation and they laughed with me instead of at me. It was survival in the horrible school I was in (I was living in the ghetto and my name was "Hey White Girl" for a few years). And like many survival skills for horrible situations - they might save your life then but applied to normal life, are terribly unhealthy.

Then we moved and I hit puberty and now because I had boobs and hips when none of my peers did, they called me fat and I learned to apply self deprecating humor to that as well.


I have a pet theory that this is why so many fat comics commit suicide. Because they too learned that if they made fun of their weight before others did that they could avoid being laughed AT and instead be laughed WITH. But they, like me, didn't realize the terrible price of that humor...


The problem, that I didn't realize at the time, is that long term - I believed it. I started to believe I really was stupid and fat. It happened so slowly I didn't notice but it did happen.

By the time I was in high school, I was seriously considering an eating disorder as a viable weight loss option because I was so unhappy with how I looked. Even when I lost weight and was dang near perfect in my proportions (in hindsight) I still thought I was fat. I compared myself to the other girls and because I wasn't perfect, I was worthless.

And that is more or less how I thought until college. And there a few wonderful roommates and companions on my mission taught me the revolutionary new thoughts that "Chubby girls get married too" and "Anybody who doesn't want you because of how you look, isn't the kind of person you want to be with anyways" and "Just because you're not perfect doesn't mean you're worthless".

Those might sound like "Duh" statements to you, (and I sincerely hope thats the case) but sadly, for me they were revolutionary.

And then I met Adam. And for what he has taught me in this area I will forever be thankful. Because prior to getting married to him I avoided all negative self talk in his presence (okay maybe more like 90% of the time I managed to keep it hidden) b/c I loved the way he saw me and I didn't want to point out all the things wrong w/ me in case I managed to convince him of them and he'd lose interest...

So when we got married and he started hearing more of it (harder to hide things from people you live with) his response was thusly: "Hey!! Nobody gets to talk smack about my wife! Not even my wife!"  lol. It made me smile and it seemed to truly, deeply bother him when ever I did it so I made a conscious effort to avoid negative self talk aloud in his presence.

And sometimes the difference was subtle. Instead of going "Omg, I am so stupid!" (which would get me in trouble lol), I could say "Oh man, I had a stupid!" (Which he also objected to initially and I pointed out, that no I'm not stupid in general, but in this one decision was a poor choice etc etc).

Doesn't sound like much of a difference but I started to notice a change in the feeling. When I would call myself stupid, it didn't feel nice. It was a pang in my chest. But when I would say "Oh man, I can't believe I had that stupid moment", I didn't get that bad feeling. I like avoiding bad feelings so I kept it up. I even started to watch how I worded things in my own head.

Then I realized I was going to be having children and that I desperately didn't want them to learn my bad self image habits from me (because "Do what I say and not what I do" has never yet proven to be an effective parenting technique). And, this sounds silly, but I learned I couldn't look at myself in the mirror with out a barrage of negative thoughts. So I avoided it. Unless I'm doing my hair or make up, or just checking to make sure I look okay before walking out the door, I didn't look in the mirror.

It was kind of a "if you can't say something nice, don't say anything at all" and since staring at myself in the mirror naked lead to involuntary negative thoughts (not that I made a habit out of that or anything, just more, I catch sight of myself after say a shower and go "OMG!" and then stare for a few minutes at what I felt was a train wreck and poke and prod and jiggle and catologue all the parts I hated... you wanna talk about powerful negative reinforcement....). But so because I couldn't look with out bad thoughts, I made sure I avoided looking.

And I did this for probably a year or so. I'm not sure exactly. I still find its not advisable for me to stare. Its much healthier for me to only check out my weight loss progress in the mirror with clothing ON. And to make sure to ridgidly control my thoughts. "Yes this does not look how I would like it to look, BUT it does look better than it did before and that is positive". I also make sure I include at least one positive for every negative to try to keep balance.

And something miraculous started to happen. After I'd do my make up and look in the mirror, instead of wincing and going "Well thats as good as its going to get", I'd actually look in the mirror, wince free and think "I actually look pretty decent!" I even got so far as thinking I looked pretty.

Then another little miracle happened. I posted a bunch of headshots to FB for opinions from friends (I needed a new profile pic for work) and an old friend of mine who is gifted with photoshop took one and played around with it. She sent me a copy and apologized and hoped I didn't mind.

And no, no I didn't mind one little bit.

In fact I stared at this image for weeks afterwards (which sounds incredibly vain now that I write it but I swear its not) just because I was so shocked that that girl in the picture was ME and she was beautiful. I had never put myself and the word beautiful together in a sentence. I was pretty, maybe, with make up. But I'd never be so arrogant as to call myself beautiful. But that was the only word I felt was accurate for that picture. I think it helps A LOT that the pencil-sketch like quality of the picture means you only see the features themselves and not any imperfections in the skin or circles under the eyes. You just see the features that are very pleasant.

But either way it was the start of a recognition of the revolution that had happened with out my hardly even noticing. I discovered that I actually liked myself, that I could look in a mirror and LIKE what I saw there and that while I don't look like I want to look like, in terms of "I'd like to be skinnier because I want to be healthy", I don't hate or punish myself for not looking like I should.

And I credit it to my positive self talk. Its important people. Don't ever, ever call yourself dumb or stupid or ugly. Never. Not even for a joke. You might have made a stupid decision or made an ugly face but you yourself are not stupid or fat or ugly.

So please, start today. Resolve to never, ever say bad things about yourself. Not even in your own head. It hurts. Even if it seems silly or frivolous, I thought Adam was full of it and I only stopped abusing myself to keep the peace in our house but I cannot understate the powerful positive impact this has made in my life.

Self abuse robbed me of the energy I need to accomplish things, don't let it steal your joy and your energy. You can have positive self esteem with out being prideful. Be accurate and fair to yourself. I am not fat. I have weight I would like to lose so that I can be healthier. I am not stupid tho I occasionally make stupid decisions but I can learn from those and not do them again.

(For the record, this took a couple weeks to write).

I feel better now

I just wanted to apologize to anybody who actually read my last post. I blame the hor-moan-ies. (No pun intended, Im trying to capture the pronunciation from My Big Fat Greek Wedding).

The good news is sometimes you just have to hit bottom, have a pity party and cry for a bit to get your husbands attention. LOL

After a long talk w/ the Hub, we then both jumped in and did some cleaning including moving the filing cabinet to its new home (where it is INFINITELY more functional and accessible) and then my Wonderful and Amazing Husband took it upon himself to do some cleaning in the kitchen/dining room AND catch up on the bulk of the filing backlog in that room.

Its a frickin miracle. He cleared over half the floor AND counter space. You can see my kitchen counters, floors and kitchen table ALL at the same time!! Really!

So that has helped me to feel infinitely better about life and I even managed to get ALL THREE COATS of acrylic varnish sealer stuff on the book cases and shelves so they are all set out to dry and cure up and then we'll be able to throw the bookcases together FINALLY which will empty out that back bedroom nicely in time for my folks to come stay for Christmas.

Life is definitely looking up.

Its a miracle.

I'm in a bad mood

Do you ever just hate your house and think there is no way in hell you are ever going to get this disgusting pit of filth clean?

Cuz that's where I am at right now. I am never going to manage to get this god awful hell hole clean. I'm entirely ready to just pile everything up in the yard, light a match and just start over. I think I will manage to reach my goal weight before I manage to conquer this mess.

I don't even want to try any more because in order to actually fix it I will have to do major gut and purge work and while I do that my back will be turned on the rest of the filth that will breed with abandon while I'm not looking. And gut and purge work always generates terrifying mess while its in process anyways and I think if this gets much worse we won't actually be able to move and the health department may actually shut us down.

And I have to conquer it bc my parents are coming for Christmas and there's no where for them to stay atm bc we have succeeded in covering every effing flat surface (save most of the floor but gimme one more week there...) with crap, crap and more crap.

And it just makes me angry and I want to throw things and smash things and I'm not usually the destructive type but right now I feel like I'm up against Goliath alone and with my hubby and kid and 3 cats are workin their hardest to generate as much filth as possible to undermine the ground I'm standing on.

And for some reason I'd really rather read a book or sleep right now than deal with my life.

I wish I could have my mommy here to help me dig my way out of this pit bc she loves me and really wouldn't judge me like I deserve to be judged for lettin my house get this bad. Anybody else would judge me and they'd be right to do so.

Times like now I envy my sister her anxiety disorder. She freaks out/stresses out like this and she had to clean everything. I get stressed and just want to curl up in my little stress ball fetal position and hide. Either way I would feel like shit but at least I could feel like shit in a clean house and that seems to bring her some measure of comfort instead of me just adding to my problems.

The Problem With Fiction

See this is why my reading new fiction is dangerous. I almost never have this problem with non fic no matter how fascinating it is. But when it comes to good fiction... I lack... Middle gears. Even if I do manage I tell myself to go to bed, and put the book down, my brain still won't let me sleep. I have.to. Know. What happens NEXT. I'm like one of those animals with lock jaw that latches on to something and can't let go for love or money.

If I didn't have plans I can't easily weasel out of tomorrow I'd just say screw it and stay up all night but I need sleep and so I'm layin here, futilely trying to sleep and failing miserably.

And this is why I reread old books. They're safer that way. I can actually put them down (usually, provided its not the good part) when I need to and get my brain back from them. I don't latch on like a limpet. I can moderate. But tonight it was this or cake and I had 52.8 running through my head so I chose this.

Maybe telling you about it will sufficiently exorcise my demons and I will sleep. Also I'm typing this via the blogger mobile app on my phone an not proof reading so we apologize in advance.

Oh the Profanity

WOW.

So I made the mistake of indulging in some morbid curiosity and did some math this afternoon. I've been doing Weight Watchers for a little over a year now and I wonder how much weight I'd actually lost, not counting the weight I've gained back occasionally when I have a stupid and stop tracking for a while.

Because I mean I know reached 25 lbs below my starting weight at one point but I've gained some back. It was my fault. I stopped tracking and started doing emotional eating and thats like taking an alcoholic to a bar. I swear I'll be okay, it will just be one drink and then 8 pounds later I go, "Oh CRAP!" and start getting serious again. I tell myself its okay, I just need to forgive myself and move on. At least I'm lighter than I was before, yada yada yada.

But I'm really kind of annoyed with myself at the moment because I have gained and lost the same 8 pounds THREE TIMES NOW. And its all my fault. Weight Watchers is a totally livable program. I can absolutely do this. The problem is that I get lazy or stressed or whatever and I stop tracking my points. I tell myself its okay, I know what I'm doing now. I'll keep track in my head. Its just for today. Then today turns into a week, and a week turns into 3 weeks and then I finally break down and face the scale and its bad.

I, Ami, am addicted to food and I cannot control my eating with out help. Seriously.

So even though I hit 25 lbs below my starting weight, I'm sitting at more like 18 pounds below starting at the moment.

And I was curious - how much weight have I lost total? Not including the gain backs? So I looked it up  on my weight trackers. I figured it would probably be in the mid 30 pound range, right? Sounds reasonable. Not too bad.

Oh no. 52.8 pounds. Thats right. You read that right. In the last 14 months I have lost a total of fifty-two-point-fricking-eight POUNDS. And what do I have to show for it??! 18 pounds and some change.

Thats it.

Oh. my. God.

I would be well over a third of the way to goal weight. Almost half way to my goal weight if I hadn't taken those little binge holidays. OVER A THIRD OF THE WAY.

I have worked my butt off to lose over 52.8 pounds and I only have 18.6 pounds to show for it because I lack the consistency and dedication and HUMILITY to admit I cannot control myself and I have to track my points because with out accountability I will screw up. Hell you'd think I would have got the message when I was staring down the barrel at 300 pounds and decided to start doing Weight Watchers because clearly I don't know how to feed myself with out gaining weight! But no, I clearly lack real conversion to that principle because otherwise I'd have 52.8 pounds to show for it and not 18 pounds.

So that means while I lost 52.8 pounds, I've gained 34.2 of it BACK. And I didn't do it all at once. I'd lose 10 pounds gain back 2. Lose 6 pounds, gain back 1. Lose 9.5 pounds, gain back .5. Lose 3 pounds and gain back 6.

52.8 pounds!!!!

REALLY. I could be THAT MUCH LIGHTER RIGHT NOW. I could have FIVE of those lovely 10 pounds lost ribbons on my board in the kitchen instead of the 2 I do have. OMG.

I'm in shock. Can you tell?! I'm good old fashioned flabbergasted!! HOLEY-CHIT MAN!!

52.8 pounds!!! 52.8 POUNDS! FIFTY-two-point-eight POUNDS!!! O. M. G.

My Thoughts on the Missionary Age Change

So today was the first day of General Conference (Mormonese Translation: General Conference is a big shindig the church throws twice a year in April and October, where they gather all the bigwigs together and have a big two day long conference, 5 different sessions, 2 hours each and you hear talks from all the current Apostles and the Prophet and his counselors plus an assortment of other church big wigs. Its broadcast world wide and is generally a big frickin' deal for the Mormon folks).

And generally if theres going to be any sort of big announcement it happens at the Saturday Morning session of Conference.

And today there was a BIG announcement!!

http://news.yahoo.com/mormon-church-lowers-age-requirements-missionaries-020034994.html

You can read it there but basically they've lowered the ages of the missionaries. Previously you had to be 19 for young men or 21 for young women to serve. Well that's changed. Now it is 18 for young men and 19 for young women.

And I think this is flat out the awesome sauce. And let me tell you why. Some of this makes sense to anybody, some of this only makes sense if you understand the strange world that is Utah Mormon Culture (which is its very own little funky thing).

For the guys lowering the age to 18 is great for those who are ready. You don't have to go right at 18 if you're not prepared or whatever but for those who are ready it means you don't have to go, get started on your first year of college, finally get everything all straightened out and then drop out, move home and leave for 2 years on a mission. That can really put a kink in your academics (but I can testify from personal experience that if the Lord wants you to serve it will all work out regardless but it does add to the anxiety and makes the planning more complex). So now the guys, as soon as they graduate high school can just go straight out into the mission field instead of going to school for one year, THEN going on a mission.

That's nice.

But what I'm really, really excited about is the age drop for the sisters. See they've always had the sisters be older, mostly b/c it helps to keep relationships in the field "mission appropriate" if the sisters are older. (FYI: There is NO dating whatsoever as a missionary. None.) But see one could argue that 21 was perfect b/c that way most of the girls can finish college and THEN serve. Nice right?

Except for this nagging cultural bit of STUPIDITY (I'm callin' it like it is people): If you go out on your mission at age 21, you get home at age 23. And at age 23, in Utah, one of my former roommates had her 6 year old niece come up to her and ask, "Aunt Maggie*, Why are you an Old Maid?" (I would like to note here that Aunt Maggie decided shortly after that experience that it was time to leave Utah and move to Texas where people aren't so very..... Utarded). So yeah. Women in Utah get home from their missions at age 23 and are instant old maids! (Yes I am well aware that the average age for a first marriage for a woman in this country is 27. Utah is weird. Welcome to the dark side of Mormon-Land. Please note this is the culture NOT the doctrine.)

And see what REALLY bugs me about that is that in our culture the common preference is for men to date/marry women their same age or younger. Its increasing in cultural acceptance (see the "Cougar" phenomenon) but its still not the norm. Especially among the Mormon crowd, where probably the most famous tradition (please note tongue in cheek) is this:

Girl and Boy Date and Fall in Love -> Boy goes on Mission and Girl Promises to "Wait For Him" -> Shortly into Mission Boy receives the infamous "Dear John Letter". Girl marries some Hot New RM (Return Missionary). Boy is heartbroken -> Boy finishes Mission, comes home. Finds some sweet YOUNG thing (Who is also "Waiting For Her Missionary"), woos her, wins her and leads her to break some other poor shmucks heart with a "Dear John Letter" and thus the circle continues.

Note if she's "waiting for her missionary" odds are she is between the ages of 18 and 21 (b/c the boys all go at 19 and get home at 21). See now how 23 year old single sister fits awkwardly into this picture. Most of her 23 year old peers at home already have 2-3 children by this point.

And you wanna know the saddest part of it? Those 23 year old "Old Maids" are the fricking cream of the crop. I mean no disrespect to those who don't serve but it is truly amazing the depth of knowledge and testimony you gain as a missionary. That's WHY they send the guys. One could argue that its for the Work of God but lets be honest- a big part of it is to get their moronic twerpy stage over with in a hurry.

In my experience most 18-19 year old guys are twerps. (I am actually quoting my Mission President's Wife here...) And left to their own devices they don't grow out of that until they're 25-30. But a mission is just this incredible thing that if you work, and study and teach and pray and really give your mission your all... It is the greatest refiners fire and when you're done you have Men (and Women) of God.

And these sisters.... I can't think of a better preparation to be a Mother. I have 18 months of serious experience teaching the gospel that I know will help me teach my children. I've learned how to work and study and have the Spirit with my companion. When you get a companion as a missionary - its a complete stranger and you get thrown together for at least 6 weeks and you have to figure out how to get a long with no tension whatsoever so that you can effectively do the work of the Lord. That can be quite a challenge if your personalities are.... less compatible. Its fantastic prep for learning how to work and communicate and study and pray with your Eternal Companion (aka Your Spouse).

So these AMAZING sisters who you would think the guys would be LINING UP for a date with them, often take YEARS after their mission to find their spouse, largely b/c "They're Older".

How stupid is that?!

Oh and lots and LOTS of sisters just plain don't get to go b/c they get married long before they got anywhere near 21 and could even think about praying about, "Should I go on a mission?". But now they're 19. The guys have been gone for a year so hopefully some of the hormones have cleared their heads and now they get the chance to really pray, "Am I supposed to go?"

Its more complicated for sisters than it is for most guys. For most guys, since the 70s or so the standard has been, "Every worthy and able young man should serve a mission." But for sisters, not all of us are called. And yes if they're supposed to stay home and get married straight away that will still happen but I just think it will be easier and more sisters will be able to serve.

And that is just so fricking exciting. And I am so happy for them. And jealous really. My father called me and was like, "Wow, only 15 years and Caleb can serve a mission!" And my Mom started to scold him for stressing me out and ya know... that thought doesn't stress me. I want him to go with my whole heart. The thought of him getting married and leaving my house, that stresses me, but a mission? I'm just excited and crazy jealous.

Because I loved my mission. I absolutely did not want to come home. I missed my family but that was it. If I could have still seen my family regularly as a missionary they would never have gotten me to leave. I will still resolutely say that it was flat out, hands down, the single best thing I have ever done FOR my whole life. And I'm so grateful for the chance to serve and if it wasn't for my family now I'd be beating down the door for them to let me serve again. I still dream about it actually.

So yeah. Just my two cents. I'm sorry if it really sounds like I've got the hate on for the Utah Mormons. They're okay, mostly. Just certain cultural quirks make me twitchy.

*Names have been changed to protect the innocent.

Colloquial vs Technical

I'm gonna go off on a little wild hair thats been buggin me for a bit here (and please keep in mind I'm still semi loopy from the muscle relaxer I took LAST NIGHT) and that is when people confuse/freak out over colloquial vs technical usage of terminology.

B/c see the nagging thing about language is that a word ultimately means what the user thinks it means, in their head, when they say it.

Read that last line twice to make sure you got it. Yes one could argue (rightly) that what a word means is whatever it is defined as meaning in a dictionary. Except see dictionaries change over time (The Oxford English Dictionary is the awesome sauce for this reason b/c it not only tracks what the word means now but what it USED to mean and when the meaning changed. Very important.) and the dictionaries change to reflect current usage. And some people seriously get their panties in a twist when some body gets the current (colloquial) usage wrong vs the technical (current dictionary version) usage or even visa versa.

Personally I think both usages are valid and you have to know your audience and the context they're being used for to know which version to go with.

Abstract rambling I know but here let me give you some examples:

Shoe Fetish

I like to say I have a "Shoe Fetish" (or at least I did before I screwed up my ankle and had to start wearing shoes for comfort and not looks). Now TECHNICALLY the term "Shoe Fetish" implies that I get off on shoes, sexually speaking. You periodically hear stories in the news about freaky little men who break into their coworkers apartments to steal shoes and they find them in some little apartment attic somewhere with 2000 stolen worn shoes that they just have to have for sexual reasons. Ew.

This is NOT what I mean when I say I have a "Shoe Fetish". I purposefully abuse the technical term (for the sake of humor) and go with the colloquial usage which has come to mean "I really love shoes! They make me giddy happy when I find a new pair ON SALE!!".

Most people understand that this is what I mean when I say the term "Shoe Fetish" and they go "OOOOh me too!" and I only occasionally get crap from the more technically minded (usually male) individuals. And I've learned to judge my listener and I can usually tell if they'll be okay with the "Shoe Fetish" term (and find it humorous) OR if I should go "Ohhh I seriously love shoes" just so I don't get that, "Ewwww you freak" look from somebody.

Antisocial vs Asocial

Similarly my husband is forever getting bent when somebody "misuses" the term "Antisocial". My husband is a strictly technical person. I periodically have to calm him down about this and I've found telling him "Its okay Sheldon" (The Big Bang Theory reference. If you don't get it, go start watching immediately after reading this post), helps him get a grip on things and take a deep breath.

Because see the colloquial usage says "Antisocial" when what they really mean is "Asocial". Technically. Because "Asocial" means somebody who is just not social. I.e. a homebody, someone with few or no friends who doesn't get out much and dislikes large groups (you could also describe them as introverts). But most people don't use "Asocial" to mean that (it is kind of a weird, if accurate, term). Most people use the term "Antisocial" to describe such a person.

Except in psychology Asocial vs Antisocial are two very different things. An Antisocial person is somebody more like the Joker in Batman Begins. Violent, aggressive, with no regard for the feelings of others or societal norms. They might really like large groups of people but mostly so they have an audience full of victims.... Colloquially this type of behavior usually gets termed "Psychopath" but that term may or may not encompass this set of behaviors depending on which dictionary you're looking at.

Confused yet? I know.

So basically, I tell him that YES "Asocial" is the correct term. However, the general populace doesn't KNOW this term and doesn't get the difference. So for clarity's sake if I'm speaking to a group of lay people I will use the term "Antisocial". If I'm speaking to a group of psychologists I'll use the term "Asocial" and ya know what, one could argue in both situations I'm using the right terminology, because its the one that my audience can understand.

Mentally Retarded

Now this one irritates me b/c some people don't get the difference between the colloquial usage and the technical term. They assume they are one in the same. And they are NOT.

For example: If you call some one a "retard", this is a derogatory term synonymous with "Stupid".

One could argue that usage of the word "retard" as a derogatory term is cruel to people who are actually "mentally retarded" and while they are probably right, at least personally, thats not what I mean. I would never, ever call an actual mentally retarded person a "retard". I generally reserve that term for a high functioning individual who is choosing to be an idiot. Its a fine distinction and probably means I'm a bad person and I should probably abandon its usage all together but it slips out occasionally, so there.

However, the technical term "Mentally retarded" does NOT mean "Stupid". It just means "Slow to learn."

For example: you might have noticed that nothing now days is "Fire Proof" this is because ANYTHING will burn if you get it hot enough, and thus the Sheldon's of the world (or more accurately, their lawyers) have declared that things must be called Fire Retardants, which means "really hard to catch on fire".

Likewise a mentally retarded person is not stupid and incapable of learning. Okay, point of fact, in some extreme cases, such as a permanent vegetative state, one could argue that such a person is in fact incapable of learning, and then somebody else would argue that you don't know what their brain is actually absorbing and down that road leads to madness. So for our purposes we're going to say that as long as they're capable of consciousness and some form of communication, they are still capable of learning.

It might be really hard, and they might be slow to learn but they are learning and that is all that mentally retarded means. They're not "learning proof", they're just "slow to learn". So before you get your panties in a twist that somebody is calling some one you know "mentally retarded" and you think that means that they are saying your loved one is "stupid and incapable of learning", it is NOT the same thing. It just means "slow to learn" like fire retardant means "slow to catch fire".

Flip side for law and policy makers out there: just because a child has been termed "mentally retarded" does not mean that they are incapable of learning and therefore you shouldn't even try or spend resources and time teaching them, it just means they need extra help and are still "worth" assisting.

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So yeah. Long story short: please be aware that there are differences between the technical and colloquial definitions of terminology and that its important to use contextual clues to tell which one is being used to avoid misunderstandings and also using the version that is appropriate to your audience is important for clarities sake.

Any examples of technical vs colloquial that get your dander up or am I the only one with this problem? lol