Discussion 'There's no such word as can't'

[Forever Sleep]

Did you get that said to you growing up? Did it piss you off? I remember it used to annoy me.

I suppose it's true though. We often can do the thing. We are physically capable. It's probably more likely we don't want to do it because we find it extremely difficult, unpleasant or, even painful. I suppose our brain throws up: 'I can't' as a defence mechanism. As in- don't make me/ us do that. We'll just suffer more!

I suppose I wonder if it's the route to more suffering though. I imagine that's why people push us to still try. It has been in my experience. I can't bear to bring myself to exercise at the moment and, for a while since but, that's only made me feel so much worse- so the prospect of exercise now is even more dreadful. The same goes for isolating. I imagine my social anxiety would be through the roof now- if I had to be around others again. The same for struggling to get out of bed in the mornings. We mess up our sleep patterns. Feel less tired at night, stay up later, get up later and, the cycle continues. So the: 'I can't do that' does maybe become closer to a physical reality.

If I tried to attain my usual time per distance doing exercise now, I suspect I could well bring on a heart attack! So- the initial thought process of: 'I can't be bothered. I can't face that' has more or less become a physical reality.

So, while I always hated the phrase. Maybe it's true to an extent. But then, I f*cking hate that about life. It all seems to be that- pushing through. Putting up a fight because if you don't- and, even if you do sometimes, it only gets worse.

The weirdest one is life itself vs. suicide. I am finding myself feeling like I 'can't' stand much more of this. But then, ultimately- I'll have to- one way or another- if I keep on living. And presumably, I will. Unless I die, I'll be alive in some state or another. Either doing the things I need to sustain me or, suffering the consequences of letting everything slip. It's so weird because the sentiment feels real: 'I can't do this much longer' but then, it also isn't because I've had ideation and lived for so long already.

 

[Pluto]

 

[Kurwenal]

This is an interesting topic, and you have some very insightful things to say on it. If I focus solely on something early on, though, that some to me:

We often can do the thing. We are physically capable.

Obviously there are those who very literally are not physically capable, through disability that is no fault of their own. For them in particular, I would imagine the aphorism spouted so often by so many to be particularly hurtful. For now, though, I want to explore something tangential.

What about when we're physically capable, but our brain tells us we're not physically capable? This is something I personally tackle every day. I have what I suppose would be considered chronic pain. On paper, in blood tests, scans, everything thrown my way, I'm healthy. So, the doctors have thrown up their arms, said it's just psychosomatic, and called it a day. However, I find the pain very real and consequently very limiting. It is most definitely at it's worst when I'm at my worst mentally. Is the physical pain worsened by the mental pain? Is the mental pain worsened by the physical pain? It's probably safe to say it's some kind of nefarious feedback loop.

If, on paper, my muscles and nerves and bones and all the bits and pieces have the strength to go walk my dog for, day, 20 minutes in the morning, why "can't" I do it? First off, rest assured, thankfully other family members are good enough to ensure the little boy gets his walkies at present. Is it a defence mechanism, whereby my brain tells my body it's in too much pain so even when I manage to get out the door and to the end of the street, I end up returning in sobs and tears? Am I in actual pain, that is physically preventing the activity? I don't know. The doctors certainly don't seem to so much as want to know.

Perhaps I'm just making excuses for myself. According to contemporary medicine, I really can go out there and do it. And when my mental state isn't in the depths of the gutter, I sometimes actually can. The pain is there, but it's not so limiting that I can't walk my little pup. Am I just making roadblocks for myself? I sure know I do that in many aspects of my life. Am I inventing a pain for myself so I can lie in bed (still in pain, mind you), and tell myself what a terrible person I am for not even taking my bub for his walk?

 

[Forever Sleep]

This is an interesting topic, and you have some very insightful things to say on it. If I focus solely on something early on, though, that some to me:

Obviously there are those who very literally are not physically capable, through disability that is no fault of their own. For them in particular, I would imagine the aphorism spouted so often by so many to be particularly hurtful. For now, though, I want to explore something tangential.

What about when we're physically capable, but our brain tells us we're not physically capable? This is something I personally tackle every day. I have what I suppose would be considered chronic pain. On paper, in blood tests, scans, everything thrown my way, I'm healthy. So, the doctors have thrown up their arms, said it's just psychosomatic, and called it a day. However, I find the pain very real and consequently very limiting. It is most definitely at it's worst when I'm at my worst mentally. Is the physical pain worsened by the mental pain? Is the mental pain worsened by the physical pain? It's probably safe to say it's some kind of nefarious feedback loop.

If, on paper, my muscles and nerves and bones and all the bits and pieces have the strength to go walk my dog for, day, 20 minutes in the morning, why "can't" I do it? First off, rest assured, thankfully other family members are good enough to ensure the little boy gets his walkies at present. Is it a defence mechanism, whereby my brain tells my body it's in too much pain so even when I manage to get out the door and to the end of the street, I end up returning in sobs and tears? Am I in actual pain, that is physically preventing the activity? I don't know. The doctors certainly don't seem to so much as want to know.

Perhaps I'm just making excuses for myself. According to contemporary medicine, I really can go out there and do it. And when my mental state isn't in the depths of the gutter, I sometimes actually can. The pain is there, but it's not so limiting that I can't walk my little pup. Am I just making roadblocks for myself? I sure know I do that in many aspects of my life. Am I inventing a pain for myself so I can lie in bed (still in pain, mind you), and tell myself what a terrible person I am for not even taking my bub for his walk?

Again- it's interesting though- isn't it? The difference between can't and, can but with horrible consequences. I remember a girl at school once walked in on a broken leg! How many of us would have (sensibly probably) said- 'I can't walk- I'm not going into school.' So- was it that she was more afraid of being in trouble for missing school? Maybe she just didn't feel pain so severely. Not sure really. It's probably not wise to push beyond certain pains though! They are there precisely in order to immobolise us till we fix the problem I would think.

That's the other issue too- incentive. We need to feel like the pain we will almost inevitably go through will be worth it. I think that is largely missing- unsurprisingly in suicidal people. Many of us think life will suck no matter how much effort we put in. I'm not meaning to invalidate pain here- either mental or physical. It's more that I find it interesting I suppose.

I'd definitely concede in my case that I haven't always pushed myself to do things I found difficult. Even though I suspected they were good for me. I've been more lucky though that it's rarely been chronic pain that I anticipated. Sometimes milder pain and exhaustion but, most of the time, it's been mental anguish scaring me off things- social anxiety etc.

But, that can become huge in our minds too. That's even weirder because- it's nothing compared to physical pain- surely. We can't even be sure we'll have a bad experience but the fear can become overwhelming till we tell ourselves we 'can't' bear to face whatever it is.

I'm sorry you suffer so much and I don't in any way mean to question that. I also think you're right- that the body and mind are interlinked and we likely genuinely can have physical symptoms because of where our mind is at. We absolutely do. I'm pretty anxious at the moment and, I can feel it affecting everything- my heart rate. My digestive system etc.

I guess it's a very difficult balance. My parents are sort of in a similar position. They both suffer with arthritis and gout. Which, makes it painful to move but then, not moving can make it worse. It's a horrible vicious cycle.

Are you able to do very gentle exercise? Have you tried swimming maybe? I've heard the buoyancy of the water can help. But then, I guess there's all the hassle of getting there and changed etc.

 

[Kurwenal]

Again- it's interesting though- isn't it? The difference between can't and, can but with horrible consequences. I remember a girl at school once walked in on a broken leg! How many of us would have (sensibly probably) said- 'I can't walk- I'm not going into school.' So- was it that she was more afraid of being in trouble for missing school? Maybe she just didn't feel pain so severely. Not sure really. It's probably not wise to push beyond certain pains though! They are there precisely in order to immobolise us till we fix the problem I would think.

That's the other issue too- incentive. We need to feel like the pain we will almost inevitably go through will be worth it. I think that is largely missing- unsurprisingly in suicidal people. Many of us think life will suck no matter how much effort we put in. I'm not meaning to invalidate pain here- either mental or physical. It's more that I find it interesting I suppose.

I'd definitely concede in my case that I haven't always pushed myself to do things I found difficult. Even though I suspected they were good for me. I've been more lucky though that it's rarely been chronic pain that I anticipated. Sometimes milder pain and exhaustion but, most of the time, it's been mental anguish scaring me off things- social anxiety etc.

But, that can become huge in our minds too. That's even weirder because- it's nothing compared to physical pain- surely. We can't even be sure we'll have a bad experience but the fear can become overwhelming till we tell ourselves we 'can't' bear to face whatever it is.

I'm sorry you suffer so much and I don't in any way mean to question that. I also think you're right- that the body and mind are interlinked and we likely genuinely can have physical symptoms because of where our mind is at. We absolutely do. I'm pretty anxious at the moment and, I can feel it affecting everything- my heart rate. My digestive system etc.

I guess it's a very difficult balance. My parents are sort of in a similar position. They both suffer with arthritis and gout. Which, makes it painful to move but then, not moving can make it worse. It's a horrible vicious cycle.

Are you able to do very gentle exercise? Have you tried swimming maybe? I've heard the buoyancy of the water can help. But then, I guess there's all the hassle of getting there and changed etc.

Thank you for your well-considered reply. Certainly there's a lot to discuss here.

I think your mention of incentive really is a key for so many of us. When you've crossed that veil, not the veil between life and death, but the veil between wanting life and wanting death, incentives can feel so pointless, so non-existent. It really is for the best that I will never have children, for many reasons, but not least because even though the incentive to care for, nourish, support and love those whom I had brought into the world.would be right there, tangible, living and breathing before me, I know in my heart of hearts that, having already crossed the veil, that incentive would be meaningless and so the word "can't" would be the centre of my thoughts.

I can very sadly understand that notion of not having really pushed myself to do things that were difficult. It has been a constant in my life, really. Say, at school, the subjects that I had some degree of natural aptitude for, they were where all my focus went. If there was a small bump in the beginning of starting something new, I decided it was too difficult and never even tried. I never really learnt resilience as a result, the notion of pushing through difficulty to what could be a satisfying reward. I stayed in my bubble where I was safe, where I knew I could get the grades I wanted because I had a small level of resonance with the topics at hand.

You say that mental anguish is surely nothing compared to physical pain. I would challenge that, if I may. Is not physical pain a product of the brain, ultimately? Obviously it will all depend on the individual, but I'd wager that for some people physical pain is more distressing than mental anguish, that the opposite is also true for others, that a very lucky few don't feel much distress from either, and that another unlucky segment feels both as pure devastation. Speaking purely personally, I have had 'real' physical pain (i.e. physical pain caused by an identifiable physiological problem) and whatever this psychosomatic nonsense I experience too. I have also had mental anguish. If some weird game of life gave me the option to abolish one personally, but persist with the other, for my part I'd sooner be rid of the mental suffering. That is what has defined my life, and that is the primary reason why I'm on this forum at all. The physical problems never helped, but I don't feel they were the driving force.

I'm sorry for your anxiety. It's insane how much something that we tend to consider as being centralized in an abstract concept such as the mind can have such massive ramifications for our whole body. I see you mentioned digestive concerns with your anxiety. Regrettably this never worked for me, but I just want to draw light to a treatment course called Nerva. It's developed by the same team in an Australian university who developed the low FODMAP diet for identifying dietary triggers in the gut, but Nerva is actually about what's called the gut-brain axis. There's been a lot of research showing very strong connections between the state of the digestive system and the state of the mind, and Nerva is designed to help soothe the imbalance between the two. At first it sounded like total mumbo-jumbo to me, but it's actually backed by a lot of well-researched science. It boils down to semi-self-guided hypnotherapy through an app, of all things. Again, sets off huge red flags, but it's meant to be very effective for some. It was actually a dietitian who got me to try it. I had absolutely nol luck with it, unfortunately, as I have massive issues with quieting my inner cogs, and I was able to receive a full refund for my payment for the service by contacting the team and explaining what I had tried and why I felt it didn't work. Just throwing it out there, because even though it certainly did me no good, I believe that was more a problem of my own limitations rather than the limitations of the science behind it.

Thank you for your kind suggestions of ways to manage my own pain. Unfortunately swimming is not an option, generally, as I'm more prudish than the average Victorian-era bather, so I'd almost need to be in a diving bell to ensure nobody could see anything of my body. I do try to do gentle exercises that I've been recommended by my doctor and physiotherapist, though I can't say I'm very compliant. I probably shouldn't really call it pain, because generally it doesn't really feel like it's muscular, or in my bones, or even nerve pain. I find it very hard to narrow down and pinpoint, but pain is the closest word I can think of to describe it. Maybe it's just the pain that comes with living.

 

[itsgone2]

So, while I always hated the phrase. Maybe it's true to an extent. But then, I f*cking hate that about life. It all seems to be that- pushing through. Putting up a fight because if you don't- and, even if you do sometimes, it only gets worse.

The weirdest one is life itself vs. suicide.

I like this thread you've created. I've had stretches of strength in life and have told people this phrase. Dont say I can't, say I'm getting better at, things like that.
Yet here I am for third time in life, with suicidal thoughts. The ultimate I can't. Just yesterday my psychiatrist said, you've done this before, you can do it again. Basically the same phrase you bring up, just worded differently. And yet it made no difference.

 

[Forever Sleep]

I like this thread you've created. I've had stretches of strength in life and have told people this phrase. Dont say I can't, say I'm getting better at, things like that.
Yet here I am for third time in life, with suicidal thoughts. The ultimate I can't. Just yesterday my psychiatrist said, you've done this before, you can do it again. Basically the same phrase you bring up, just worded differently. And yet it made no difference.

I think we need to have a certain amount of motivation/ resilience to battle through: 'I can't'. Which brings us on to perhaps the more realistic: 'I don't want to'. And ultimately, isn't that permissible?

It's usually a: 'I don't want to- because I fear it may make matters worse.' And, all people can really come back with is: 'Maybe it won't be as bad as you fear' or, 'It will be for the greater good'. Neither of which they can know for sure.

The worse one maybe of all is along the lines of: 'We all have to do things we find difficult. Life is difficult.' The tricky nuance with suicidal people being: 'Well, perhaps I'd prefer to reject life and I'm not doing that shit either!'

Thank you for your well-considered reply. Certainly there's a lot to discuss here.

I think your mention of incentive really is a key for so many of us. When you've crossed that veil, not the veil between life and death, but the veil between wanting life and wanting death, incentives can feel so pointless, so non-existent. It really is for the best that I will never have children, for many reasons, but not least because even though the incentive to care for, nourish, support and love those whom I had brought into the world.would be right there, tangible, living and breathing before me, I know in my heart of hearts that, having already crossed the veil, that incentive would be meaningless and so the word "can't" would be the centre of my thoughts.

I can very sadly understand that notion of not having really pushed myself to do things that were difficult. It has been a constant in my life, really. Say, at school, the subjects that I had some degree of natural aptitude for, they were where all my focus went. If there was a small bump in the beginning of starting something new, I decided it was too difficult and never even tried. I never really learnt resilience as a result, the notion of pushing through difficulty to what could be a satisfying reward. I stayed in my bubble where I was safe, where I knew I could get the grades I wanted because I had a small level of resonance with the topics at hand.

You say that mental anguish is surely nothing compared to physical pain. I would challenge that, if I may. Is not physical pain a product of the brain, ultimately? Obviously it will all depend on the individual, but I'd wager that for some people physical pain is more distressing than mental anguish, that the opposite is also true for others, that a very lucky few don't feel much distress from either, and that another unlucky segment feels both as pure devastation. Speaking purely personally, I have had 'real' physical pain (i.e. physical pain caused by an identifiable physiological problem) and whatever this psychosomatic nonsense I experience too. I have also had mental anguish. If some weird game of life gave me the option to abolish one personally, but persist with the other, for my part I'd sooner be rid of the mental suffering. That is what has defined my life, and that is the primary reason why I'm on this forum at all. The physical problems never helped, but I don't feel they were the driving force.

I'm sorry for your anxiety. It's insane how much something that we tend to consider as being centralized in an abstract concept such as the mind can have such massive ramifications for our whole body. I see you mentioned digestive concerns with your anxiety. Regrettably this never worked for me, but I just want to draw light to a treatment course called Nerva. It's developed by the same team in an Australian university who developed the low FODMAP diet for identifying dietary triggers in the gut, but Nerva is actually about what's called the gut-brain axis. There's been a lot of research showing very strong connections between the state of the digestive system and the state of the mind, and Nerva is designed to help soothe the imbalance between the two. At first it sounded like total mumbo-jumbo to me, but it's actually backed by a lot of well-researched science. It boils down to semi-self-guided hypnotherapy through an app, of all things. Again, sets off huge red flags, but it's meant to be very effective for some. It was actually a dietitian who got me to try it. I had absolutely nol luck with it, unfortunately, as I have massive issues with quieting my inner cogs, and I was able to receive a full refund for my payment for the service by contacting the team and explaining what I had tried and why I felt it didn't work. Just throwing it out there, because even though it certainly did me no good, I believe that was more a problem of my own limitations rather than the limitations of the science behind it.

Thank you for your kind suggestions of ways to manage my own pain. Unfortunately swimming is not an option, generally, as I'm more prudish than the average Victorian-era bather, so I'd almost need to be in a diving bell to ensure nobody could see anything of my body. I do try to do gentle exercises that I've been recommended by my doctor and physiotherapist, though I can't say I'm very compliant. I probably shouldn't really call it pain, because generally it doesn't really feel like it's muscular, or in my bones, or even nerve pain. I find it very hard to narrow down and pinpoint, but pain is the closest word I can think of to describe it. Maybe it's just the pain that comes with living.

I feel the same way. I think I would have tainted any offspring with fear, pessimism and cynicism about the world. The poor things likely wouldn't have stood a chance. I'm glad I didn't inflict that on them.

I suppose I am refering to my own experience really. Remembering the worst I've felt physically- gallstone in the bile duct and, mentally. But, that's fair. I dread to think how else either my body or my mind could go wrong. I suppose I've just been more familiar in observing constant physical pain affecting someone mentally than vice versa but again- I'm sure they are linked. I suppose I was thinking more of my social anxiety- which does cause massive discomfort. But, I doubt that is as bad as some other things.

That's so kind of you to suggest that therapy. To be fair, I don't constantly get affected by anxiety. Just now and again, stuff will come up that I fixate and catastrophize over. I'm sure I've also read that the gut has it's own kind of intelligence though. So- what you said doesn't sound at all whacky. Something I should absolutely take to heart is- 'We are what we eat.' My poor body doesn't stand the best chance with what I give it to digest.

We sound fairly alike in our body shame. I would also avoid swimming like the plague now. I always felt uncomfortable but now, I'm such a mess. That has held me back I suppose. I used to love being in water.

I so wish you could find some relief. I've lived around people almost constantly in pain and it's just so brutal.