interestingly, when i first read the word, i understood ambivalence as a sort of shrug of one’s shoulders, a lack of clear feeling about something. and i thought, meh, i usually have pretty discernible feelings and opinions about most stuff, one way or the other. i’m not sure i’m ambivalent about much.
when i actually went to read further, though, there were other definitions: ambivalence not as a lack of feelings, but a complete and utter mix of them. ambivalence as the state of having simultaneous, strong, contradictory ideas or feelings about something or someone; a continual fluctuation between two opposing poles. a site called wiktionary defines ambivalence as a coexistence of opposing feelings. and that feels familiar. if that’s true, then i’m ambivalent all the time.
it has got to be one of the hallmark traits of trauma survivors, don’t you think?
for me, just a few tiny examples: wanting my mom, and hating her for not protecting me. believing myself, while desperately hoping that i’m a big fat liar. resenting the echoing cries of my little one and holding her close. it’s one fucking huge WWF match inside our heads and bodies, every day.
pocketbrit and i often joke about lobotomies and there’s a good many reasons why, the chronic ambivalence being one, the fluctuating, ongoing mindfuckery of recovery being reasons two through eight hundred. i keep meaning to check youtube for a DIY option – or d’you think that maybe our local library has ‘brain surgery for dummies’ on the shelves?