Precision of Language

Precision of Language.

I was watching the movie “The Giver” this morning and this phrase that is repeated throughout the movie started to click with me. I have never believed that my vocabulary was inadequate, knowing that I can read, write, describe, and discuss things with clarity and precision. But as the film, which is (very loosely) based on the book “The Giver” by Lois Lowry, continued on, I began to understand that I do not in fact, always have the correct words to describe my mental health.

It’s an interesting realization, and also a very good explanation as to why I tend to pull back into myself when I really begin to struggle. There is a quote from the original book that stands out to me as  I think through my own life and my own ups and downs, the periods of indescribable pain and mania: “Even trained for years as they all had been in precision of language, which words could you use which would give another the experience of sunshine?” (p.90).

The quote above is a truth that strikes me deep within. It is a quote that speaks to me on many levels and with many different reminders. In the negative, it reminds me that at times, I am alone in my true feelings. It explains how during periods of depression, anxiety, and even mania and psychosis, that nobody else will ever truly know the feelings that I experience; that my words will never be able to give that feeling to another person so that they can help more, understand better, or simply feel as I do. It is a truth that many people that I have interacted with have shared with me – the loneliness of their lives and their world, which is often coloured differently and skewed from what is considered to be ‘normal’ perception.  I have experienced this myself – it isn’t necessarily a bad thing and the quote can also be used as a reminder to me that no, unless they have experienced the exact fluctuations in mood that I have, they will not be able to understand completely. But that is also the key. When I remember this, it is much easier for me to share my experiences, with lower expectations.

I fully admit to times where my expectations have exceeded what can realistically be accomplished. In my relationships there have been (and sometimes still are) many times when I have wished that those closest to me could jump inside my head and just ‘get it’; that they could see, and feel, and experience those things that I do. Remembering that no, they can’t do that is a good way to open myself up to accepting the help that is available and the relationships that can be built. If I can lower those expectations, then I can fully embrace their friendship, knowing also that they accept me as I am, without needing to experience my pain themselves. It is a very powerful revelation.

In the same way, this reminder also applies in the reverse. It allows me to accept others and their experiences as valid, and as deep and as complicated as my own. As much as I want to believe at times in a ‘normal’ range of emotion and feeling – it will still always be an individual concept. Accepting that, I can accept another person’s experience and readily admit that although I do not always understand them, I can support them, love them, and be there for them in their times of struggle. It is a very grounding concept that although words exist in abundance, there is not always a “precision of language” that can describe such a personal experience, which will truly allow another person to experience the exact same thing.

Precision of language. The more that we share, the closer we will get to fully understanding each other. The more that we accept that no matter how precisely we describe something, it is still impossible to duplicate within another person exactly, the more that we will end stigma associated with periods of mental illness, struggle, and outside thinking. The more that we accept that it is a personal and individual concept, the more open we can be to those around us struggling. The more that we accept an individual and their pain, struggle, internal battles and victories; the more that we can normalise people, mental health conditions, treatment options, and a diagnosis that no matter how precise the words, can never fully explain the condition.

So let’s keep talking. Let’s lower the expectations. Let’s describe as fully as we can the experience, and let’s listen to support and raise our understanding, accepting that we may never fully ‘get it’, but loving the person anyways.