Stress. What If You Are Not Competent to Aid in Your Own Defense?

What If You Are Your Own ‘James Arthur Ray’?

“James Arthur Ray, once-prominent New Age motivational speaker, bestselling self-help author, and well-paid spiritual teacher who suggested clients could “create wealth in all areas” of their lives if they overcame hang-ups by shaving their heads, walking on hot coals, and bending rebar with their throats, was found guilty of three counts of negligent homicide in connection with the deaths of three of people who attended a 2009 sweat-lodge event he ran near Sedona, Arizona.”  Three people who believed the snake oil salesman.

Speaking of trials, a couple of days ago, a certain defense lawyer in a certain high profile trial reported to the judge that his client had a mental defect making it impossible for her to aid in her own defense. This got me thinking about genetic transmission of this trait–a mental defect making it impossible for a person to defend herself. What if this mental defect extended to an inability to defend yourself against yourself?

This could be serious, since yourself is with you a good portion of the time.  What if you have this mental defect leaving you unable to defend yourself, and also, deep within that mysterious personality of
yours, you have a snake oil salesman as talented as any ‘motivational speaker’?

Could you indeed be led into a ‘group think’ poorly thought-out, even self-destructive decision by your inner charmer?  What if the person who keeps talking you doing stupid things is you?  I ask these questions propped up in a booth at MiMI’s Restaurant, unable to move any part of my body other than my fingers. This is my second time at MiMi’s this week. I had breakfast here two days ago after an eight o’clock emergency appointment (that I agreed to this outrageous time slot shows my desperation) with my rheumatologist whom I’d contacted admitting to extreme pain in the areas of one of my several auto-immune diseases.

Back to the Inner Snake Oil Salesman problem and the mental defect. The snake charmer in my tiny brain and I woke up this morning with the realization that I’d left the sprinkler on all night in an inner courtyard where I have a little I-don’t-care-if-it’s-100-degrees project going. The project is to nurse back to health the five or six sprigs of English ivy–amongst the 95 percent weeds–managing to survive last year’s deer buffet.

Concerned that my neighbors would notice the small lake and think I am a bad person who doesn’t care about the planet I was wasting water, I painfully hauled myself out of bed to resolve the environmental tragedy and made my creaky way downstairs.

I turned off the water and surveyed the damage.  That’s when the old Inner Snake Oil Salesman kicked in.  This is what she said: “Hmmm….You know, these weeds would come out really easy with the ground being as wet as it is.  I mean, if you pulled out the boatload of well-rooted creatures right now.  And you are already sort of cranked into position since your back hurt too much for you to stand up straight after turning off the water.”

My Inner Snake Oil Salesman said, “Come into my garden, little girl, there’s nothing here that can hurt you.”

I mesmerized myself. I wanted to believe. I went stupid.  (One of the ways you can tell you are lost in the sea of emotions is–you are incapable of considering how following the Inner Snake Oil Salesman worked out for you the last time.)
I turned against my own body….And now, as I struggle to hold my coffee cup…You know, I could use some salt on these sausage patties….Maybe that kind-looking lady in the next booth would hand me a shaker if I fell out into the aisle…