Читать книгу IRRELATIONSHIP: How we use Dysfunctional Relationships to Hide from Intimacy - Mark B. Borg - Страница 14
ОглавлениеPerformer or Audience? Performer or Audience?
Both the Performer and the Audience share the fear that the world is going to fall apart if he or she doesn’t do something to fix or save the caretaker. Although the methods are different, both Performer and Audience are motivated by fear and anxiety.
Performers tend to use intrusive, self-centered maneuvers in their caretaking—planned actions whose real purpose is self-protection. Aggression, of course, can show itself in passive as well as active forms. The Audience may operate in a passive-aggressive manner at the expense of the Performer, who is generally determined to stand out as the active member of the relationship but is usually unwilling be cast as the bad guy by the Audience—at least not explicitly.1 The Performer actively pursues fix-it activities that allow the Audience to hide in the role of non-participant or even victim. From that position, the Audience can passively punish the Performer by not responding to treatment, namely by not feeling better. In reality, however, few cases are this black-and-white.
A more typical pattern emerges when two people are caught up in conflict, and the Performer, seeing him- or herself as the injured party, acts out by criticizing and blaming the Audience. In this type of scenario, the Audience provides space for the Performer by deliberately assuming a passive posture. After their relationship collapses, the Audience consoles him- or herself by believing this is the natural consequence of getting involved with a personality so aggressive that it can’t be controlled.
Ready, Aim, Backfire!
What does the dialogue between a Performer and an Audience sound like when they are brainlocked in a blame-game? Let’s take a closer look at an exchange between Performer Laurie and her Audience husband Lou.
Laurie: Your secrets are killing me, Lou; they’re killing us. I cannot believe after all I’ve done for you and all I keep doing for this family, you can just sit there and say nothing. How can you be so completely unwilling to tell me what you have been up to? I’ve tried and I’ve tried—I’ve done everything. What else can I do?
Lou: [silence]
Laurie: The more I do for you, the more you shut down. The more I ask from you, the more you disappear. What’s wrong? How in the world can I possibly make things any better between us?
Lou: [silence]
Laurie: How can you just sit there saying nothing? I really believed that when I took on that second job, when I started teaching again, when I, at great personal cost to me, supported you on your new business venture and found more childcare and then wound up taking on more care of our son, you’d finally see how much I do, how much I’ve done for you—for us.
Lou: I do.
Laurie: Then why won’t you tell me what you’re up to all day? With all that I do for you, Lou, why should I have to worry about what you’re doing? Why do I have to be the one who does it all—and still feel like the bad guy?
Lou: I know how much you do for me—for us. I know we would not have made it through these difficult times without everything you’ve done. And I thank you.
Laurie: Well, well! Thank you.
Lou: [silence]
With the expertise of these irrelationship veterans, both Laurie and Lou were able to thwart yet another opportunity for intimacy—or the threat of intimacy. Although their roles are dramatically different, this example demonstrates how their agreed-upon roles collaborate with a single purpose. And most of all, they clearly built this routine together.
The observant eye might notice that while Lou quietly acknowledges, and even applauds, Laurie’s contributions, he resists any obligation they might place on him—especially commitment to what might be otherwise considered their joint purpose in taking care of their family. He keeps to the sidelines allowing Laurie to take all the responsibility or blame for what is right and what is wrong in their life together.
“After all I’ve done for you,” is this type of Performer’s refrain. The Audience’s role provides lukewarm acknowledgement and applause—a lame stand-in for silence.
As we can see, the Audience is an exceptionally hard target, which is actually the point. Lou has allowed Laurie to take all the responsibility for the relationship while he emotionally slips out the back door, leaving Laurie unaware of why she feels lonely, suspicious, and afraid. Lou’s silence reinforces Laurie’s performance in a scenario in which his actual presence is not required. Caretaking provided and interaction avoided. Mission accomplished.
Stuck in the Song-and-Dance Routine
Sometimes what appears beneficial—the “feel-good” parts of doing the song-and-dance routine—are so compelling that getting out of it isn’t nearly as appealing as staying in it. If you are the Performer, it’s heady to be told by others that you’re like a mind reader; you seem to know what your Audience is feeling even before he or she does. Who wouldn’t like being described as selfless, sensitive to others, and always ensuring others’ needs are met? It sometimes feels like a full-time job, but the payoff in admiration and praise feels great, right?
And wouldn’t it be wonderful, as the Audience, to find “the one who understands” you? The partner who is so crazy about you that he or she’s continually anticipating your needs and taking care of them, sometimes almost before you’re aware of them? A partner who always has solutions and is so smart, funny, helpful and fun to be with? When you’re with that person you feel alive and full of hope. Now your life is going to be right. He or she will take care of you forever and will never hurt you. And all you have to do is be yourself. Yes, sometimes it can be tiring; and other times this person is a little quick to tell you about your needs and shortcomings, but nobody’s perfect.
Well, if it’s all that good, why is it falling apart? Come to think of it, haven’t you been here before? Didn’t the last promising relationship come crashing down—and the one before that? In the beginning, everything was perfect: Each of you knew your expected parts and seemed to be excited about playing them together. So what was the signal—who said or did what—that made one or both of you sense danger?
Stopping the Song-and-Dance Routine
Realizing that irrelationship is not the answer is great news because it means love, hatred, fear, and joy are still alive. But this isn’t just a matter of becoming aware of denied or hidden feelings. Mutually collaborative relationships in which both parties feel safe talking about their feelings is usually scary, especially at first. But once the awkwardness passes, it feels right and even good. Rather than distancing from feelings for fear that they will prove to be uncontrollable, exploring feelings together becomes the beginning of true and mutually rewarding intimacy.
Using the schema below, review the dynamics of irrelationship to determine which role, or roles, you play in the song-and-dance routine. You’ll know who you are. Be honest but without self-criticism.
Features of Irrelationship
PERFORMER
Give, give, give—until it hurts.
Characteristics: Builds resentment, anxiety, acting out, and imbalance; has feelings of superiority, emotional distance, and false sense of safety; contrives giving behaviors; devalues others.
+
AUDIENCE
Take, take, take—until it hurts.
Characteristics: Impenetrability, anxiety, and acting out; fakes it to make routines appear effective; intentionally foils partner’s efforts to help, fix, and rescue; defends against accepting what others offer.
=
IRRELATIONSHIP
Emotional distance or absence, which defends against empathy, intimacy, emotional risk, and emotional investment.
Outcomes: Depression, dissociation, and isolation
Toward Positive Change
The following questions and exercises will help you identify parts of Lou and Laurie’s story that resonate with you.
1. Are you the Performer or the Audience—or do you mix both roles?
2. What personal traits or behaviors give you away as Performer or Audience? How do they show up in your interactions with others?
3. What situations or feelings trigger your song-and-dance routine?
4. What are the benefits of your song-and-dance routine? What is it like to identify and observe yourself performing these behaviors?
5. Now as an adult, what ways can you deal with relationship-based anxiety that you couldn’t as a child?
