Venice is an attractive, middle-aged woman who cuts hair in an old-fashioned barber shop in Portland. She cut my hair a few months ago when I was visiting and did such a good job that I made a point of going back the next time I was in town.
When I slipped into her chair I remembered vaguely that she'd mentioned that she had a new relationship going with her postman, so I asked if her letter carrier was still making special deliveries.
She sighed and said the relationship was on hold because he had “trust issues.”
“You mean he's a jealous asshole?” I asked.
“Yeah,” she said and starting snipping at my hair before she stopped herself, stepped back and asked how I wanted my hair cut. She was obviously having concentration issues.
Later that day I stepped inside a bank to report that the walk-up ATM machine wasn't working. The teller closest to the door shrugged her shoulders and said, “It's a new machine last week and it's been having issues ever since it was installed.”
So now I'm having issues with the whole issues issue. It seems like nobody confronts problems or acts badly these day, they just have issues.
Bullies have self-esteem issues. Drug addicts are burdened with dependency issues. I suppose serial killers are just dealing with life-taking issues.
Like many things, once you become sensitive to them, you start to see them everywhere. The other day I stopped into a neighborhood pub and found a nice-looking older woman named Rose holding down the stool next to me.
Rose, I quickly discovered, suffers from both “unemployed senior issues” and "latching onto strangers at bars issues”; but she was a good soul and I told her as much while I gulped my beer, then ran like a guy with "afraid to look back to see if he is being followed issues.”
I'm old enough to remember when people didn't have issues, children had disorders (“Oppositional Defiant Disorder”, “Attention Deficit\Hyperactivity Disorder”, etc.), often caused by genetic or physical problems; but adult problems without physical roots were complexes or syndromes. Post-first marriage baby-boomer men suffered from “Peter Pan Complex” and disillusioned women had a choice of either “Wendy Complex” or “Cinderella Syndrome.”
The diagnoses sounded to me like descriptions of behavior rather than symptoms of a disease, but people I knew talked as if it was because of their syndrome that they acted immature, too bossy, or had unrealistic expectations for relationships.
At the time, a psychologist friend of mine – who'd started seeing a lot of clients suffering from dysfunctions with Disney character names – told me he had identified a new dysfunction that he called: “Rumpelstiltskin Syndrome.” As he defined it, it is any anxiety-related condition which begins to clear up as soon as a therapist gives it a name.
I have no issue with that.
No comments:
Post a Comment