Linguistic Rashes and the Art of Therapeutic Jargon

And so it seems as though I’m surrounded. No matter what cavern I descend or mountain peak I climb, enduring abusive therapeutic jargon is my lot. Not only do I find myself on the verge of a syllogistic coma, I must also carry around a tube of vernacular Benadryl to avoid being overrun by a semantic rash.

The word ‘issue’ and its plural variant have infiltrated every conversational crevice from chats and dialogues to blogs and confabulations. There are now issues for everything. They come in all shapes and sizes. There are computer issues and car issues and hair issues and facial issues and behavioral issues and travel issues and political issues and pet issues and issues with issues and social issues and serendipitous issues and client issues and food issues and employment issues and catalytic issues and … [insert ad nauseam here]

The dictionary defines ‘issues’ as “a personal problem or emotional disorder”. I suppose that definition is apropos since I have a personal problem with its descriptive usage. I was first introduced to the term about fifteen years ago through a liberal-minded California dwelling relative who used it in reference to the I’m-working-on-myself therapy bastion of phrases and lingo. Rather than using the word ‘problem’ or ‘sin’ or ‘grief’ or ‘difficulty’ the all-saving generic ‘issue/s’ has taken his throne.

Perhaps one day my spine won’t crinkle when I hear it. Perhaps one day the hives will stop and I can live in peace and harmony with this invasively euphemistic terminology. Perhaps one day I won't end up spinning on the floor like Curly gnawing on a Jungian lexicon while foaming at the mouth. But until then, I will continue on. I will engage in conversation and chat and joyful banter and do my best to not pass out as issue upon issue upon issue is dealt my way. God help me.