The Journey Through Extreme States Shows Us Who We Are, Always Human, Sometimes More
First presented at the ISPS Conference in 2023
Hello, the title of my talk is “The Journey Through Extreme States Shows Us Who We Are—Always Human, Sometimes More.” Today I would like to argue that rather than applying culturally conventional approaches to an unconventional problem like extreme states, we should instead apply more unconventional approaches to the problem of cultural normativity, which is a potentially limiting type of social convention.
Extreme states may be a kind of psychological journey. We may believe they are somehow chosen and voluntary, or entirely involuntary. Yet they may influence or even pervade the person’s sense of self. Involuntary states may be met with involuntary forms of treatment, further exacerbating the layers of internal stress and confusion for people who are being treated for conditions of the self and its vulnerabilities. Because this self struggles to function effectively in the outer world, drawing concern and care, but also criticism, judgement and disapproval, the self then learns about stigma. It may experience being stigmatized and learn to participate in a cycle of stigma habitually. Following an extreme state, one may proceed from never having never been pathologized to a process of social adjustment. The perceptions of others can result in changes in identity and self-perception. This different self may have loosened its reliance on what it once knew as its own viability. The new self must possibly confront the fact of its own vulnerability in functioning simply to survive.
The person experiencing these states has clearly been living through them as a human, and perhaps even more fully as a human. They have now opened the door to experiencing what had been closed out or shut down before, the extremes of experience. For example, they may have had to become immediately more resourceful or skillful at avoiding harm. They are still living as a human, but in a new way, and therefore they may not know or understand how events have occurred and what may be done about them. We could still ask what exactly has changed of the person, for example, their states or their self, their identity or role, or their habits of attention? One could try to argue that their “identity” as a human has changed, but what would this mean? As a person, they may have become more socially suspect, or now sense a lack of validation, or sense that their presence may require effortful forms of negotiation or justification with respect to prevailing social norms and dynamics.
We may recognize these kinds of attitudes as stigma, but stigma can also affect the person’s sense of themselves. It unfortunately exists as a social reminder that the person has internal qualities or experiences that define them socially. Stigma takes what had been simply an individual’s unprecedented encounter with the possibilities of human experience and renders it susceptible to social scrutiny. Many people who do not know better are simply repeating observational and judgmental habits acquired through living in the culture itself. But still, we must proclaim, “The person is still a person in the presence of their own extreme states, and so too they must be considered human in the presence of the extreme views of others.” To make these leaps requires a certain faith, but it can be learned as an attitude of cultivating one’s own psychological autonomy in the presence of social forces which might conspire to undermine one’s sense of self. It should be remembered that for many experiencing extreme states, these phenomena interact with their sense of themselves in life-altering ways. Still, they would impact a person’s self not by making it less human but by making it more vulnerable and complicated or stressful to manage. Vulnerability, complexity and stress are all very much part of the human experience. Furthermore, through all the change, uncertainty and vulnerability, we’re still ourselves, just people travelling through life, only differently now, somehow. We may have changed, but who’s to say we won’t return to who we were before, or perhaps even become different in a better way?
So the problem of extreme states, if we are to call it a problem, may be understood as the problem of the self in transition, challenged but not sufficiently supported, exploring the limits of its potential transformation within the norms, parameters or confines of its environment, physical and social. It may be the sign of a suffering soul, but it could also be the sign of new beginnings, if properly tended to. The life that breaks the mold may be a story of life foretold. The extreme state may change our scripts of what life is, how it works, and how we exist and function within it, but it is also very much the narrative of who we ourselves are that is changing. In a moment, we’re not who we thought we were anymore, so what then may we possibly become? If our imagination has pierced the veil of reality, then has it meanwhile impaled us or severed us from the overwhelm of normalcy, from the mandate to be a certain way while becoming a certain kind of person in this world? Have we broken rules or only other people’s self-defined realities? Have we been so shaken or altered that our lives have now moved in reverse, or have we instead perhaps very clumsily shifted gears to put our lives in forward motion, but in a new direction?
Extreme states may be understood with respect to social environments and their rules and norms, explicit and implicit. But they may also be signs of a different self emerging, however we may define the self. It is a self that has been forced to choose differently with respect to its connections to others and to its own need for viability. It is a self getting to know itself in difficult circumstances in a difficult manner. The sense of having choice, the perhaps lifelong belief that one can, could and should still be able to choose in the best possible way, may reach a point of tension, conflict or contention. It may be the self learning the limits as well as the potential of its own capacities and powers, and even alliances. It is a self brought to a breaking point, and perhaps aspiring to break free rather than break down or break rules. It may be unable to break the patterns of behavior which brought it to this state or condition, and unable to prevent future exacerbations of the process. It may be a self confronting its own pain or turmoil, but also redefining its own promise, past, present and future. It is the self that moves us to not move, or conversely fails to move us to move at all, even in the ways in which we might need to sufficiently to survive. It is the self in sickness perhaps, or simply sick with itself, whatever that may imply for a person. Yet it is a self imperiled, perhaps without precedent, in a manner that may include threats from within and outside, from before and beyond, from now and never, or perhaps from forever in the struggle of life in a lifetime. It is an unknown reality now made manifest, a vulnerability made plain for all to see, a limitation imposed on oneself by others in a new way, their presences or agendas becoming new limitations as we may meanwhile seek to impose new limitations on others.
The self that may have been hollowed by time and experience, existence and reality, self and others must find a context and method for viability, and even sustainability. It may need to question the very nature of the extremes themselves. Whose extremes? How are they extreme? Why do extremes matter? Why do they seem to matter so much to others, when they are simply us exploring the psychological limits of ourselves, though perhaps without sufficient guidance or support, training or skill, capacity or awareness? Yet it may be the culture that has defined and shaped our thoughts and behaviors, given us the incessant norms and rules, roles and scripts and protocols, judgements and social punishments that we now stand ready to confront as a way of moving forward. We no longer play our assigned parts, yet we do not know how to exit the stage gracefully, or when we might possibly return for a second act. The roles, we may suspect, have contributed to our deterioration, denied us necessary forms of authenticity, and made the quest for solidarity more complicated and tenuous. If we are no longer our roles, then what may become of our forms of solidarity, and could they ever be replaced? We do not yet know what solidarity could be for a self that is imperiled, undermined, perpetually questioned and lives in a land of doubt, with or without allies. Why, then, should we believe in solidarity as a solution to our struggles when in the past it may have been a contributor to our problems? Could solidarity itself even be suspect as a psychological accomplice in this extreme rendering of the self, this self that can no longer trade effectively in its needs and resources, at times bringing psychological remedies to social problems and strategies of social support to address its own unique psychological experience.
We are or may be in conflict, or we ourselves may simply conflict in a personal and universal way. Humanity, once an identity, may now become superfluous and tedious, or perhaps to the contrary, a luxury, attained but denied, a dream for others. Our sense and vision of ourselves as human may have changed irrevocably, and our visions for our prospects as a human may now undergo lifelong revision tethered to the fates of our recoveries. Our certainty of what it may mean to be human may undergo radical reformulation. Everything is now a question; all is up for reconsideration. This may be our experience, but it also may not be the experience of those around us, who observe, and find their truths and realities in the certainty of their observations. Observation itself, we have learned, may or may not help in understanding the experiences and realities which appear and disappear, pervade and perplex, or manifest meaninglessly. We still may be the authors of our own lives, but how? How can we hope to proceed while still confronted by an overabundance of norms and values, and uncertainty from within? If we are no longer who we thought we were, then what could we still possibly hope to become? So now we live to live, not to be a certain way. We live to learn how to live best in this new way. and to avoid the forms of harm which now approach us. Our living may be a heroic act of self-defense rather than an egotistical act of self-promotion. We no longer assert our perspective in the ways we used to, and to the people who we once thought mattered, cared or knew better. Instead, we see our perspectives as the realities which imbue these states with any hope of possibility, the counter to the culture, the uniqueness of the human identity within its universality.
There are various possible strategies for navigating the journey through extreme states with or without forms of solidarity. One strategy is avoidance. A second strategy is accepting the limitations of one’s role and predicament, and the presence and possibility of many forms of stigma. A third strategy would be resistance, such as political, social or personal resistance. A fourth strategy would be acceptance, quiescence, cooptation, or even resignation. A fifth strategy would be seeking, creating and sustaining forms of solidarity and becoming solidarity accepting, not solidarity declining. A sixth strategy would be relying exclusively or primarily on peer support, or at least prioritizing peer support. A seventh strategy would be studying, learning about and focusing on the processes of the self.
Extreme states show us who we are, that is, for example, brave, compassionate and resourceful as we may have been before, but now we simply manifest these qualities in new ways, and even with new purposes. It’s not just that we need to learn how to live in our own extremes, but that we now must know how to be in both consensus and non-consensus realities, which themselves may conflict, while experiencing our own extremes.
Ideas about humanity may include that humans may be good or bad, or that it is ”normal” for humans to act in good or bad ways, but that they first must be seen as normal to act at all. It’s as if we say as a culture “You can choose to be good or bad, whatever works for you, but please first be sure to be normal, to act normally.” A normal human will certainly be more likely to be perceived as better, anyhow, because of the tendency to misattribute psychosis to character defects. This is truly an unfortunate cultural dynamic because it reinforces the idea that everyone should try to be more “normal” than “good.” This perpetuates stigma against those challenged to seem normal while miring the rest of us in a supposed reality and morality that de-emphasizes being good while over-emphasizing the need to seem normal. It’s almost like a kind of adolescent peer pressure brought to the adult world, but at everyone’s expense, because we all act to defer to the normative view and action at the expense of developing what might be the good, positive or healthy action or view. Such is the foolishness that humans conspire to sustain in the absence of any culturally possible alternatives. It also traps psychological energy and potential at the cultural level,. when judged as good or bad. It is therefore of critical importance that we argue against the myth of psychosis as character defect and continue to argue for its definition and understanding as a health circumstance or condition.
In consensus realities, normality and agreement take precedence over character and behavior, and in extreme states and non-consensus realities, character and behavior take precedence over normality and agreement. It may be part of some people’s definition or sense of “human” that humans are supposed to be or seem healthy. This attitude may occur with or without compassion, understanding, insight or empathy. Without tolerance and in the presence of judgement, health variations themselves may be construed as character defects. For psychosis not to be seen as a health condition resulting from a character defect, we must emphasize its involuntary nature. If you say extreme states are “less than human,” you may be supporting or leading to a view that those experiencing extreme states should be treated inhumanely.
With respect to health conditions and treatments, it could also be noted that the medical profession which has for centuries tried to “first do no harm” still finds itself often helpless as to how to assist people in mental health recovery without meanwhile engaging in actions which are at least perceived by the experiencers as causing harm, even if not intended harm. Would these perceptions be tolerated in any other type of medical care or treatment, and if not, then might their acceptance and perpetuation be due to a culture of medicalized stigma? People may do what they know how to do, which often has to do with how they have been trained. Therefore, in the absence of viable alternatives, professionals may have little means to change their approaches. But what people know how to do is also determined by what the culture believes to be true. The culture plays a role by tolerating the forms of treatment which some find harmful. The culture meanwhile has its own limitations with respect to change and progress. It can be slow to maneuver and seemingly unwilling to yield to new types of information or treatment approaches. So it is sadly often left to the patients themselves and to their advocates in solidarity, to fight their own struggles on many levels, from personal to professional to cultural, with or without sufficient forms of solidarity, advocacy and support. But in the face of such tremendous obstacles and challenges, perhaps one of the most overlooked would be for people simply to cultivate their own internal powers and means, their own capacities to be with and for themselves, their own senses of dignity, autonomy and personhood, so that they might fight their battles with more internalized resources.
Solidarity may be good and bad, helpful and unhelpful (or even harmful), real or imagined, temporary or enduring. It may eventually solve some problems or simply bring new problems and challenges into one’s life. It may invite comparisons with others or diminish the tendency to create such comparisons. It may help or enable one to shine or instead simply to hide more conveniently, comfortably or permanently. It may be the fulfillment of a lifelong search, process or quest, or simply usher in a new chapter of social adjustment which could include self-selected forms of individualism or isolation, if not alienation. Solidarity could manifest as social uniformity or conformity, or parade as a chorus of distinct voices and perspectives. It can coexist comfortably and meaningfully with our life goals, pursuits and agendas, or stand in perpetual conflict with other forms of connectedness, ambition or striving. Like many other experiences in life, it may be necessary and even helpful, but still a mixed blessing. That means it would of course need to be learned about and understood in a way that works. It may even need to be transformed into another realm of experience in order to have any meaning in retrospect. We may crave and detest it, value and ignore it, resist, avoid or diminish it, or humbly proclaim it as the only viable antidote to our sense of isolation and suffering. Regardless, it may provide a new perspective and new forms of insight that would be hard to provide by other means or types of life experiences.
Yet it is always worth asking, “For whom does the solidarity exist?” For whom is it intended and how does it serve, benefit, support or help them? Is it solidarity in name alone, but not in spirit, or conversely solidarity in spirit alone but never in fact or practice? For people in recovery, solidarity may be a compelling need or goal, but an arduous and perilous path, a series of calamities and misunderstandings, or the only sign that being hopeful in life still seems justifiable. Solidarity may provide external signs of why and how we should endeavor to sustain our internal reasons to persist. Solidarity may support the belief that there are ways of others which could become ways of our own, for the benefit of all. We may not understand solidarity as it currently exists or know how to find it, or how to repair its ruptures, or how much time and energy to devote to its fulfilment. We might not know what specific roles other individuals might play in our lives, if only they could and would, and if only we would believe it possible. We may need to try to accept and tolerate, persist optimistically and move forward heroically into this realm of understanding with others. We may have been told it is necessary and could be helpful to us specifically. We may also have been warned of its more perilous potential. We do not and cannot know in advance, and so we must risk, just as we risk in recovery and in life itself. Indeed, we risk ourselves in being with others, and in a contrasting way, we may risk or jeopardize ourselves in attempting to be without others generally, if not completely alone.
So just as we may once have needed help in getting help, now we may paradoxically need to have solidarity in order to find solidarity as well. We need to participate, as people, with people, for people, and in a way for all people, or the process simply will not work.
Humanity relates to the self as two forms of identity, species on a biological level and self on an individual or personal level. What links the two may be human groups on a social level. We could argue that all human selves share attributes and commonalities. Some might claim, however, that the self is indistinguishable from the body, and others might argue differently that the self cannot be proven to exist. Belief systems, as well as psychologies and perhaps even previous perspectives may influence or determine these perspectives. Some contemplative views might explain the existence and functioning of the self by relying on concepts such as awareness and will. These views are similar to my own. The self may change in some more superficial ways throughout a lifetime, but I believe it always to be a human self in key and identifiable respects. The person, their humanity and their self are inextricably linked throughout a lifetime, in my view. So of the three possible connections to self by humanity, extreme states or solidarity, humanity would be the least malleable.
Extreme states then may relate to the self as changes in one’s states, experiences, capacities or forms of awareness, and perhaps similar changes in one’s will, or ability to rely on and implement the functioning of the will, skillfully and effectively. These changes may be perceived as compromises in one’s motivational states, which could then be attributed to the will and its nature or complications. Extreme states may change, if not the true nature of the self, then at least its reflection or perceived identity, by oneself, first, but then perhaps subsequently by others. They may change the direction the self chooses and the course or path it then undertakes, or the tasks and responsibilities it assumes or abandons. Extreme states, not because they are suspect but because they are variable and uncertain in other ways, would then be the most malleable process with respect to connection to self of the three possibilities, humanity, extreme states and solidarity.
Solidarity relates to the self as the self in connection rather than in isolation. Solidarity may provide context, forms of support, and on a societal level, meaning and belonging, as well as opportunities to express the self to others resonantly. Solidarity can affect the self theoretically, but it’s often more about others than about the self. It may change in nature, form or specific instance or circumstances, but it is still premised on the idea of being and possibly remaining in connection to others. I would say that of the three forms or entities in relation to the self, solidarity is in the middle between the immutable fact of humanity and the highly changing and fluid nature of extreme states. Indeed, solidarity can only be so variable because human processes develop more slowly when more and different others are involved. They must find ways to similarly adapt, find and use new forms of connection, and seek possibilities for remaining in or choosing not to remain in solidarity while finding ways to move forward in forms individual or collective, aggregate or personal.
We survive in environments, physical and social, as we must and are able to. There may be certain kinds of environments which can lead to, provoke or exacerbate extreme states for some people, and other kinds of environments which can possibly lead to forms of healing for those very same people. So there is no denying the significance of the environments in whichever way and wherever we find ourselves. Due to the effects of memory, conditioning and trauma, past environments matter too. So where we have previously found ourselves and have had to find ways to adapt matters. We may have been asked to or made to change to meet environmental expectations, which can include adhering to socially defined norms and values. We may have been uncomfortable or perhaps caused others to feel discomfort. Or we may have sensed our fear and then somehow caused someone else to experience a corresponding fear, but in a different, individualized or unique way. There are also the times or instances we don’t know about, or the ones which are no longer plausible, or we are not sure really happened, or how and why. That is, what led up to the circumstance and therefore what might we try to not repeat in the future, in order to honor our unique learning process? And yet, here and now, we are somewhere, and perhaps in a sense with some others, needing to understand, maneuver, affirm identities and roles, communicate and navigate paths both conversational and consequential. We live and learn, or so we hope, but still we inevitably are shaped and conditioned, and we may consider ourselves lucky if we have only ever been shaped and conditioned in mild ways and not actually harmed.
Still, here we are and let’s say something is not working right, and then for some reason we have no one to turn to, and then, with no other viable resources we become destabilized, and eventually, given vulnerabilities and uncertainties past and present, what we now may call an “extreme state” ensues. But what is the process of creating such a state, and how may it connect to or reflect our underlying actual human needs? Why is it so susceptible to being misunderstood, invalidated, neglected, or exacerbated? Why does this form of human expression of human uncertainty, stress and lack of resources or capacity, lead to the prospect of being dehumanized, not for a moment, but for a period of one’s life, or even for an anticipated lifetime? What is the nature of the link between experience, any human experience, and the corresponding capacity for other humans to try to negate it? They may wish to redefine our intrinsic humanity, as if to qualify it, or affix a label to us, such as, “human but experiencing extreme states.” This is not our humanity, nor is this other people’s right or prerogative, to think, speak or act in this way. They should first try to consider their own humanity and its various forms and means of expression. I argue here that the person who experiences the extreme state has faced and managed extreme uncertainty requiring extreme forms of courage. They have had to meanwhile experience life, and their own perceptions of life and of themselves, differently, more individually and complexly, and in a way “more uniquely human.” Certainly, they have had to innovate ways to survive as individuals increasingly, if temporarily, distinct from others or societal norms, roles and resources.
Some of our struggles may have led us to turn away, at first from the beliefs and perceptions of us, which we may have found to be inaccurate as well as unhelpful. We may have completely turned away from these people, and even from all people whom we do not expect to be as allies to us, our identities and experiences. We may therefore attempt to prejudge or prioritize our forms of solidarity. For example, “First I trust this person or these people, next I trust this person or these people, and so on.” But these alliances or tentative forms of solidarity may themselves change. We cannot know in advance with certainty what can change for us, with whom, how and why. Yesterday’s fans may become tomorrow’s critics, and yesterday’s allies tomorrow’s adversaries. It is possible for former foes to become friends, but how could we hope to navigate such a process, even internally? We may learn to think more in a different way, such as politically, yet see diminished value in thinking and acting at all as it relates to our actual quality of life experience. Our experience has become, through experiencing the extreme state, far more unique and individualized, for who else could possibly have experienced such a particular state in such a particular way? Even if such similarities could exist across all people, other people cannot be the experiencers of my experience, but only witnesses, peers, supporters, teachers and guides. A consequence of my extreme state may be that I no longer appreciate the veil of social connection and role as entirely accurate. I may grow to see it as inherently misleading, creating supposed connections among supposed people who may claim to share experiences, but can never truly understand mine in the way that I have had to. I have learned to live with experience and still live as human, even without solidarity.
Part of the humanizing of the extreme states is the process of learning to live with and even appreciate it somehow, differently over time, making one’s peace with it and with oneself (as the experiencer of such a state). This may also be the process that leads us to look way from the culture, from normative values and beliefs for our solutions and forms of understanding, and look more within ourselves. We may also eventually seek solidarity with some others or with the ideas of others, which could be helpful, but we have also begun what may be a lifetime process of increasing our experience of self understanding. This now refers to our understanding of ourselves both with and without extreme states, and with or without forms of solidarity. The culture may have been our cradle or our curse, but now it may become a kind of social, and socializing creature unto itself, which we can choose to engage with or try to dismiss, participate in or protect ourselves from. We now see and appreciate the need to prioritize selecting what does and does not work for us with the culture, how and why. We have learned the value or necessity in at times choosing our own company over the company of others, our own values and beliefs over the values and beliefs of others, our own sense of time and urgency, necessity and priority, over those imparted by others. We do this not out of arrogance, but out of necessity. It would be simplistic or pejorative, even stigmatizing to say that we are compensating for lives that are compromised. Indeed, the task of living is always lifelong, whatever the forms of previous experience or identification with others may have been. We would be foolish not to recognize, appreciate and value the changing nature of all people’s lives, and even of the norms and values which others may preach today, but which may have quickly faded by tomorrow. To live with the possibility of extreme states, and in the presence of changing conditions and forms of solidarity, we must be very proactive, anticipating future possibilities for ourselves. We therefore need to learn to create what may be called, paradoxically, a viable personal or individual culture, a way that we can be with ourselves sufficiently to learn how to be effective in our own lives with or without the benefit, help or support of solidarity with others. We can learn to always be capable of being prepared to make progress in the ways which might best serve us, and our lives as humans, relying on ourselves and on “our selves” to experience and integrate our own humanity, extreme states and forms of solidarity. It is difficult work and may require new forms of learning, awareness and skill, but it is our work, and our most pressing, though lifelong task.
If we are able to do this when necessary, it will demonstrate that we will have been human in the best possible ways, the ways in which we needed to be. Life circumstances ask much of us, in ways which others might not fully understand. It is our goal to better understand this environmental demand for our viability, spirit and longevity. We hope to sustain the self sensibly, if not the soul. We likely did not choose to turn away from others but had to, for survival, self-understanding and the opportunity to recreate future potential. So we will have chosen a path not of utter abandonment but of reconfiguration, not of avoiding life’s immediate challenges but of ultimately preparing to face more effectively life’s greater challenges. We will connect with ourselves in the ways now made necessary, then transform this new sense of possibility into growth potential for ourselves and others. We will have traveled a different route in a different way, but all mortals arrive at the same ultimate destination. We will have traveled a human path in a different but equally human way. We may be forced or helped to take the path less traveled (Frost), yet we will be better for having chosen to follow our own paths in our own ways, the best possible ways for humans to travel such paths, with or without forms of solidarity.
A human journey through extreme states, perhaps even one without solidarity present, could be assisted by the development of a personal culture before the occurrence of the state. This strengthening of the process of self-identification while diminishing the tendency to overidentify with normative culture could prepare and equip one to face the next possible extreme state or personal challenge. It is not a form of narcissism but quite the opposite, an increased capacity, skill and willingness to judge and choose wisely when, where and how one’s personal values should be upheld in contrast to those of others, while remaining open to the possibility of connecting socially. As humans accustomed to group and cultural life, we far too easily dismiss our own principles and certainties when confronted with situations that expect conformity. The antidote to this form of self-renunciation or even deception must be learning to exercise the capacity for free choice in situations where the social and the psychological collide. This may not be comfortable, but it could become more intuitive and even learn to seem natural, that is, natural in the sense that it affirms our true nature and the nature of our experiences and perspectives.
A human journey through extreme states requires the ability to choose one’s own priorities over the priorities of others. The initial survival exigency is then continued in recovery by pursuing those priorities purposefully while mindful of consequences. The journey requires the humility necessary to exist in an attitude of service to one’s recovering self, which implies also to others. The journey may require the (personal) self-assurance or courage to look above and beyond the immediate circumstance and its social expectations to see oneself more clearly. One must perpetually envision one’s future as more about oneself than about others, who may or may not be present. All futures are individualizable; the path is as unique as the person.
A human journey through extreme states requires honoring these states themselves, that they may be understood if not healed. We thereby honor both the life that preceded the states and the life that will follow. All life experiences, however contrasting in supposed value, need to be capable of equal forms of validation, that they may ultimately add more forms of valued experiences to one’s ultimate understanding of one’s own existence in a lifetime. It’s not what lesson was learned, perhaps, but how valuable the learning resulting from a lesson may be. Extreme states may be one of life’s greatest teachers. We are called to learn as experiencers of such states, about ourselves and our capacities for experience and understanding, about our humanity and its intrinsic and changing natures, and about our solidarity with others when possible, or our solidarity with ourselves when necessary.