Using Humor to Disguise Fear or Terror

“Oh, Peter, of course I understand. And I approve. I’m a realist. Man has always insisted on making an ass of himself. Oh, come now, we must never lose our sense of humour. Still, I’ve always loved the tale of Tristan and Isolde. It’s the most beautiful story ever told – next to that of Mickey and Minnie Mouse” – Ellsworth Toohey (From “The Fountainhead”)

I have been reflecting on this idea a lot as I consider how I wound up in a gaslighting and abusive relationship and stayed on for as long as I did.

Upon exiting this relationship, something in me became unlocked, and I started writing a lot of poems – here’s one of them titled “How Abuse Starts”

It’s funny
It’s fun
It’s exhilarating
It’s dangerous
It’s evil
It’s routine

Feels like home

One of the key reasons why a woman may find herself attracted to a man is if the man is able to make her laugh. Incidentally, when a man wants to win a woman over, he often goes out of his way to make her laugh, and it works. We are attracted to humour because it is often seen as a marker of confidence, intelligence and charm. Laughter is deeply associated with pleasure and happiness. It activates the limbic system in our brain – the lower order center for emotional processing and causes the amygdala to release endorphins – a feel good hormone. On an interpersonal level, laughter signals acceptance and positive interactions. It is the lubricant in conversations and the analgesic to humdrum small talk. It cuts through our superficial defences and touches our emotional core, so there is a very primal aspect to it.

People who can make us laugh at ourselves get even more stripes. Think about the Canadian comedian Russell Peter. In a podcast interview with Jordan B Peterson, Jordan wryly noted that Russell Peter’s jokes which “insult one ethnic group after another” drew a multicultural audience which would be “waiting with bated breath for their turn to be insulted.” Russell Peter responded with a resounding “Yes” to this rather bizarre observation, to which Jordan said “what do you make of that and how the hell do you get away with it?”

Russell explained that when he talks about a certain group of people, he talks about them from their perspective, not his perspective – the way they read it is “this guy actually understands us, we can’t be offended because he just said something only we should know about ourselves – which means he’s either an insider, or he’s really paid a lot of attention to us, so one way or the other, they know it’s done as a tribute, as opposed to making fun of us. They think, ‘how did he know that? Okay we can trust this guy’ ”

Therein lies the rub – when you feel seen, heard and felt, you develop trust toward the person making you feel that way – your humanity is being acknowledged and it touches your soul. When you are able to apply humour in a way that makes the other party feel acknowledged, the Endorphine rush from laughter elevates the experience of being seen, heard and felt, and that makes you much more open and trusting of the person that tickles your funny bone. If you are the funny guy, you have hit the human jackpot, in my case, as my ex-husband has well and truly milked me for my inheritance, the phenomenon is more literal than figurative.

But my question today is “How do we allow humour to be a stand-in or an escape from dealing with difficult things with integrity and honesty? I think of situations where we laugh out of a sense of awkward discomfort because we cannot believe what the other party is saying. We do not know what to make of the situation, or if we do, we are afraid to confront them or hold them accountable, instead we dismiss and deny by laughing, as if automatically assuming that they meant what they said as a joke – when deep down inside, we know it is not.

The more you do this, instead of calling out what you see and feel discomfited by, the more it eats away away at your true sense of self and wholeness. It eats away at your confidence.

I think of situations in my own marriage where I lost touch with my feelings of fear and what those feeling were trying to tell me when I would let myself get distracted with my husband’s absurd jokes and inane but nonetheless amusing behaviours. In these instances I believe I was using humour to hide terror and fear – the fear and terror of knowing that my husband did not have my back, and that he was just using me for as long as I was complicit in not naming and calling out his covert abuse.

I think of how we can make fun of ourselves as a way of avoiding our own deeper more intense emotions – we dismiss, trivialise, stick our heads in the soil like the proverbial ostrich just to get away from the true feelings hiding behind that wry facade, or goofy humour. Over time, repeated behavioural habits of masking deeper emotions with humour results in us being tone deaf to our own emotions. It makes us blind to reality while robbing us from the joy of living out our true self.

I personally think that when you hit the point where you think anything is fair game for a joke, you have hit a new level of delusion. Horace Walpole, an 18th Century writer and historian, said “Life is a tragedy for those who feel, and a comedy for those who think.”

This has been quoted to me on occasion when I shared with some friends how I felt about certain events in my life. Instead of showing empathy and holding space for me to articulate my thoughts and feelings without judgement, they told me in essence to “think more and feel less”

There have been other friends who have said to me, “Don’t think so much” or “Don’t overthink it.” I personally think that saying things like that just shuts people down emotionally and shames them. It is easier to tell someone not to overthink than to say what you actually mean: “I’m sorry to hear that that you’re struggling, but I don’t really want to know the full length and breath of what you’re dealing with, so I will just ask you not to overthink it.”

It is hurtful at worst, and insensitive at best.

To be fully human, we have to be able to be fully open to our feelings and emotions and examine the length and breadth of them. This is crucial in gaining more knowledge of ourselves. When you try to trivialise or minimise your emotions, you are denying a part of who you are.

It is one thing to feel your feelings and observe them, it’s another thing to fuse with your emotions and allow them to define who you are. The former is healthy and the latter is unhealthy. For example, if you think to yourself when feeling triggered, “I am angry” it is quite different from telling yourself, “I am feeling angry” – there is a space that is created between you and your emotions when you recognise that you are just feeling an emotion, rather than being owned or defined by it.

When we are able to hold space for ourselves to feel our emotions fully and articulate them, whether to a trusted friend or in a journal entry, that is when we will be more self-aware and able to extend that same love and self-awareness to others as well.

Let humour have its place in the world. But let us not use humour to avoid the hard work of dealing with loss and working through grief and unprocessed trauma.

“Laughter cannot mask a heavy heart. When the laughter ends, the grief remains” Proverbs 14:13

References

Peterson, Jordan, host. “S4E24: How We’re Breeding Narcissists| Russell Peters & Jordan Peterson – MP Podcast.” The Jordan B. Peterson Podcast, Season 4, episode 24, MP Podcast

Rand, Ayn. The Fountainhead. New York, Penguin Random House, 1943

David, Susan A. Emotional agility: get unstuck, embrace change, and thrive in work and life. New York, Penguin Random House, 2016

Cardoso, Silvia. Our Ancient Laughing Brain. New York, The Dana Press, 2017

The Living Bible, Tyndale House Publishers, 1971.

Listen

I rediscovered recently on an older blog of mine that I had forgotten about.

My entries in that blog really spoke to me and reminded me of the person I am deep inside, someone that went into hiding for a long time.

I wonder if in the process of being married and building a life with my ex-husband, where I felt compelled to focus so much on externalities, I forgot who I really was.

I wrote this poem in 2012. It’s called “Listen.”

Listen,
To the internal clicks and sighs
The silent telling of whys

Follow,
Those signs
The little longings
That beckon you to quiet

Watch,
The moments transform
As you allow those
Voices to die

Laugh,
From the belly
As you awaken
From sleep to rest

And Thank,
Your lucky stars above
As you quicken
to who you are

Scorpio Revisits The Mirror

Boxed in a living, brooding black
Hot, crackling fury enraged in the vacuum
I crave, I thirst,
I am on my knees

but

Your words break me
like
shattered glass
and the screaming hammer
against the door

A child, blithely
Bouncing, up and down
Up and down
on the mattress.
Even as the world
Crumbles and implodes in the universe of
Her heart

and

The door is marked
With the deep round imprints of unmitigated
Rage.

Give me space not
Broken nights harnessed
By the gnawing, nameless
Certainty that

Tomorrow,

I’ll see the image
Of your back
Walking out on us again

Brother, when you read the news
At the dining table, sunlight filters
Thru’ my mind

You sit quietly,
Unperturbed, in silent enjoyment
That picture fills my heart
And the noise clears my head.

I travel through the
Amazon,
a myriad maze,
My jungle book.

Those yells,
Those lusty, knowing voices that
Insist, persist on telling me
With such intense glee

“You’re Wrong
That’s your name
You’re Wrong
You’re Wrong

Wash the dishes
Clean the house
Scrub up, work hard,

Smile

Even harder,
Slam down the competition
With your grades,
if you can…

Shut your mouth
Be good… and maybe
Just maybe
Things will get better

But only
if you can
Learn how to be good,

This house of cards
Will stand maybe
If you shaped up
you sick,
fuck up,
you little piece of..”

ARE SILENCED

I stumble out
onto a vast green field

Blinded by sudden sun,
assaulted by
A fistful of daffodils
dappling the green, green grass.

I breathe in deep,
I pluck one out
And kiss its face
Something that feels like
Sheer relief
rushes in

With reservoirs of tears,
To quench the numbing ache.

Gaslighter

Over and over again
It goes
In my mind
And my thoughts
My soul

Who was he?
Who were we?

Quiet memories of
Evenings spent watching LOTR
And your favorite animes:
Full Metal Alchemist
Death Note
Naruto

I lived for these
Moments of connection
With you
Where I could catch a
Glimpse of the
Worlds in which you lived
The tropes you operated on

How many times
Did we fight
And all I ended up
Feeling was a sense
Of abject failure?

How many conversations
Did we have
As to where I felt
We were stuck in
A holding pattern?

I got zero no matter
How much
Energy I expended

How many confrontations
Were deflected
And how many promises
Undelivered

There’s a word that’s
Coming up a lot in my mind
These days:

“Gaslighter”

I lived in your reality
For so long
I thought your barbed words
Were ‘cute’
You passed off hurtful words
And actions
As ‘jokes’ even though
They formed a consistent
Pattern

Gaslighter
For nine long years
I lived with
You and endured
So much self-doubt
Shame and blame

You found me when
I was vulnerable
And twisted my reality
For yours

I kept feeling
Afraid you’d
Leave me one day

The day came

You beat me up
And said
“This is it, you fucking
Bitch, I’m getting
A divorce”

As I sat in the
Corner of the couch
In a foetal position
To protect myself
From your blows
Raining down on me

Gaslighter

I loved you

In the end
All of these affections
Ended in such
Violence

Gaslighter

I hurt you

I kept apologizing
For losing my temper
And yelling,
Being controlling,

You called me a bully.

I thought you were joking

Gaslighter
I thought I needed you

But all this while

I was running
Away from Myself

Nice Girl

You try to be kind
You try to be good
But have you been kind
To yourself?

Have you thought
About how much
You can bear
How much you can carry?

The only cross
You ever needed to carry
Was your own
Yet you had no time for that

You see the sadness
And loneliness in others
But do you see
The devastation in your own heart?

You keep walking on eggshells
Believing that
You need you to be
Something you’re not

You try to be strong
Not realizing how
Powerful you are
When you feel weak

Their hurtful words
They don’t define you
Their thoughtless actions
Are not your fault

Their silence
Does not reflect on you
and you don’t have
To live in fear of punishment

Let go and trust
Take all the time you need
To heal, feel and be you

This world is your playground
And you can live in safety
Child, take all the time you need
To grow up

Summer Roses

Pale Pink
Summer roses in the sky
Remind me of
Days spent alone at home
Prepping dinner, playing house
and you’d return
With a bunch of roses

Back then you loved me
Back then you held me
Back then we loved and
Hurt so hard
I couldn’t let go

Now the pink
Has turned to blue
And black
On my body, my face
My eye

Nobody told me
how someone you’d
share your soul with
could ever touch you
like that
treat you like
a filthy rag
and discard you with such ease

Today I seem OK
The bruises have healed
But the hurt goes
Deeper still

Pale pink summer roses in the sky
Remind me of you