Sennette
is a ravishingly fashionable and utterly charming swab whose interests include
ballroom dancing, lace-making and ornithology. When she is not engaged in these
fine pursuits, you will most likely find her in Las Vegas, drinking gin and playing
blackjack, and, if the spirit strikes her, making a drunken nuisance of herself
at the Neon Graveyard. She is also a skilled marksman, and won first prize at
this year's Grand Shooter's Gala in Caverndale, West Virginia. Before being recruited
by MellowTraumatic, Sennette worked at the renowned publication Grimsinger's
Psychology Annual, where she worked herself up from secretary to highly respected
correspondent — a position which she enjoyed for nearly 95 years before retiring
amidst much fanfare just last spring. Sennette now divides her time equally between
Europe, the States and Las Vegas, owning property in such varied places as Prague,
Tuscany and Hell's Kitchen. Senette enjoys fine wine and cuisine, and is treated
to these extravagances by one of her many suitors at least thrice weekly. She
is also a devoted pet owner, and shares her homes and travels with three extraordinary
animals: a chihuahua, a French bulldog and a rare pink cockatoo. Sennette has
been married three times, and contrary to what her detractors may say, she feels
that this makes her inordinately qualified to give advice. Send
your questions to Sennette: AskSennette@yahoo.com 
Installment
Number 4— April 30, 2007
Dear
Sennette,
Two months ago I narrowly survived a shark attack, leaving me with one leg and
several extra toes. While I'm fine with my new body, I'm dismayed at the way my
friends and family fought over who would be the supreme caretaker while I was
struggling just to get to the bathroom. What can I do to end the bickering? —
Yours, Stub Yes,
indeed, there is nothing like grave physical tragedy or blunt force trauma to
get all your loved ones in a tizzy and vying for your attention. Good going, Stubsy!
Throwing yourself haphazardly into the path of a hungry shark may have seemed
like a good idea at the time, but as you now know, it can be more trouble than
it is worth. Why must they fight over you? Why, oh why, as you lie there bravely
fighting the growth of superfluous appendages, must they take the opportunity
to display their dominance and aggressiveness? Bit of a mystery, isn't it? Perhaps
it's one mystery best left unexplored, but I shall do my best. Only for you, Stub. At
first, it may seem that all the gnashing of teeth and flailing of arms is an attempt
to express how much they love you. However, upon closer inspection, it may in
fact be more egotistical than that. I suspect that each of them wants to be the
Chosen One, the one you trust, the one you want by your side. The operative word
being, of course, "one." So, sadly, they fight each other for the privilege. The
faulty logic of this is that while you may have lost limbs and gained toes, there
is nothing whatsoever wrong with your mind. Therefore, when your friends
and family fire off the starter guns and race to your bedside as if it's a competitive
Olympic sport, you will have no trouble deciphering the true forces at work. The
fact is that in their eagerness to win the trophy cup engraved with "# 1" or "First
Place," they actually manage to cause you more distress than you are already
enduring. Are they really unaware of this simple truth? Possibly. But more than
likely they are aware of it, and instead of being truly helpful in your
time of need, they have chosen this difficult moment to play out their own little
recovery-room drama of "Survival of the Fittest." Displays of this kind are common
amongst what is typically referred to as the "lower" species. In contrast, we
humans are supposed to use our brains rather than our brawn. So, as you bear witness
to the primordial soup of craziness that your friends are stirring up, you can't
help but feel a little concerned on their behalf. "Hey, where are you going?"
you might ask them, as they scurry back to the Age of the Dinosaurs. If you were
of lesser caliber, Stubs, you might allow yourself to be satisfied with the competitiveness
and in-fighting, perhaps even encouraging it so as to exercise the muscles of
your own neediness. However, as your letter makes clear, you are instead extraordinarily
sensitive, and you are able to discern that something is amiss in Darwin's Paradise. Perhaps
a stern talking-to is what is required. Humans are supposed to be able to understand
"reason," after all. Explain to them in no uncertain terms that you are not going
to stand for this frightfully passe conduct. It's just so Paleozoic. Seriously,
isn't it just so 400 mya? Remind the folks in your crew that they are human,
and have already been "selected" by nature, so not to go messing it up now. Remind
them that each one of them is as necessary as the rest, and that they all
have a place in your heart and by your bedside. We humans are a tribe after all,
and we are always most successful when we banish the idea of "one" and embrace
the ideas of all. As a species, we do our best work when we act with both our
heads and our hearts for the good of the community. Dear
Sennette, I
know this will sound dumb or maybe even a little obscene but is it ok to want
or proceed to cut yourself? —
Lucy Dear
Lucy, Due
to the gravity of your question, I felt I should pass it along to Kansas Mayhem.
She has issued this official statement: Though
we are no strangers to anguish here at MellowTraumatic, we must confess that none
of us have ever felt compelled towards self-injury. We have great compassion and
empathy for your suffering, but we would be remiss if we tried to answer this
question as if we had some type of expertise in the matter. Our expressions of
pain, though absolutely real, have always been metaphorical and artistic in nature,
and we believe unconditionally in the curative potential of art and creative expression.
We cannot answer your question responsibly because we lack the knowledge to do
so. However, we do not take your question lightly, and thus we recommend wholeheartedly
that you seek the answers elsewhere. A good place to start, perhaps, would be
here: CUT (Note:
Scroll down the page to find a link to self-injury resources.) Sincerely,
Kansas Mayhem and all of us here at MellowTraumatic
Installment
Number 3 — January 15, 2007
Sticky
Situation
Dear Sennette, I
have a former co-worker who turned out to be a secretly talented recording artist!
Should I contact her about how much I enjoy her songs or leave her alone? Also,
another co-worker sent me a little gargoyle! Would a simple thank-you note suffice? —Will Well,
"Will" (if that is indeed your real name), it seems that throughout history people
of varied professions have found it necessary to assume "alter egos" or "secret
identities" in order to exist in this harrowing world with some degree of anonymity.
This method of self-preservation does indeed serve the purpose of allowing undercover
agents, prostitutes, authors, actors, rock stars, superheroes, and of course —
ahem — advice columnists to go about their business without anyone
else being the wiser. But why the masquerade? In the case of superheroes, undercover
agents, advice columnists and prostitutes, the answer is simple: We must protect
our identities because our lives depend on it. In professions such as these,
the revelation of a secret identity is extremely serious and can cause horrendous
damage (collateral and otherwise) to all involved. So, if you find yourself in
possession of this type of knowledge, I would advise you to keep it to yourself
and tell no one! However,
in the case of authors, rock stars, actors, or arteeeeests of any ilk for that
matter, the danger is surely not as grave. One can only guess at the various personality
defects that undoubtedly come into play. We won't pretend to understand the "complexities"
inherent in existing with a near-split-personality disorder, but we do know that
many such people have hidden behind mysterious personas during their illustrious
careers. There must be something to it, though we are hard-pressed to decipher
exactly what that something is. In fairness, some of these personages may,
due to the realities of their time, have been forced to hide their identities
as a result of racial, religious, or sexist discrimination. But in today's modern
society, an alter ego is more often a choice rather than a necessity. Sometimes
it may even be a viable choice, made primarily as a result of the desire for artistic
freedom. These personalities are often shy and conflicted, selectively hiding
behind the cloak of an alternate reality in order to better concoct the mischief
at hand. I would imagine that your former co-worker falls into this category.
Your letter states that she is a recording artist, which would indicate that her
alter ego is designed primarily to protect the ego, rather than life
itself (as is the case for an advice columnist — such as myself, for
example). Some may consider this psychological and philosophical self-protection
to be a rather unseemly and unwarranted practice. And, in my opinion, it is
wholly frivolous in contrast to that of protecting the physical self. However,
your former co-worker clearly suffered from the need to shield herself from the
uncomfortable sensation of having everyone at "the office" know her innermost
thoughts. Perhaps it was insecurity, or perhaps a coy, self-serving ploy. We really
can't know what convoluted reasoning lies behind the motives of these fragile,
painterly types. I can, however — and with a fair degree of certainty —
assure you that whatever she did was as much for your sake as it was for her own.
One can most definitely argue that, despite the decidedly egotistical nature of
secret identities, the charade could also have been initiated out of respect for
others. For who in their right mind would want to be subjected to the bitterness
and trauma of a ne'er-do-well at work, even if said trauma does take on
a somewhat alluring musical form? One would surely wish to avoid such a person
like the plague, especially since these "creative" individuals can't ever seem
to resist the unfortunate temptation of pelting others with a continuous stream
of self-involved blather. It seems that whenever they're given half the chance
to speak freely about their "work," all semblance of professionalism and self-control
goes swiftly out the window. At least that was my experience when, as a young
secretary at Grimsinger's Psychology Annual, I was subjected to the ceaseless
droning of a painter/copy editor who missed no opportunity to prattle on about
how he painted only black on the canvas to represent the dark abyss of his soul.
"Oh, for heavens sake! Get ahold of yourself! You are boring me to tears," I finally
screamed at him, and was rewarded with applause from the entire staff, who had
all been thinking the same thing but were afraid to say it. But
I digress. The
past is the past, and given that you no longer work with this person, perhaps
the game need no longer be played. And since it seems unlikely that your former
co-worker's secret identity protects her from physical harm, and that it was probably
only meant to protect her from emotional harm, you might as well throw caution
to the wind! What is she going to do? Cry? Just because someone found out her
widdle secwet identity? Puh-leeeeze! She would probably be thrilled to hear from
you. Tell her to wipe her snivelling face with a hankie and pull her sorry self
out of the gutter. Do it. Do it now. As
for the gargoyle, a simple thank-you note will indeed suffice. But you would do
well to mention what a spectacular and thoughtful gift a gargoyle is. Seriously,
could you have gotten anything better? I don't think so. On
second thought, perhaps you'd better step it up a notch and write that simple
thank-you note in your own blood. |
