learned helplessness

Seligman's experiments on learned helplessness go like so: You shock an animal. It doesn't have any control over the shocks, or know when they're going to come. It stops trying.

This is happening to me with my downstairs neighbors.

They seem like nice people, but they have an inordinate fondness for the guitar, ukulele, and stereo. These implements of torture are located directly under my bedroom.

I never know when they're going to start making noise. I never know how long it's going to last. In fact, often, just when I'm about to go down and say something to them (which I've done on two occasions already, at 3 a.m. and 2 a.m. respectively,) they stop. Then in a couple of minutes they start. I put my shoes on, and they stop.

Less than 24 hours ago, I yelled at them for singing guitar duets at the top of their lungs. Now, they're out in the lawn blasting Tommy. My bedroom is being invaded by someone else's African drumming. My living room is invaded by them.

"In all cases, the strongest predictor of a depressive response was lack of control over the negative stimulus."

This doesn't bode well. I've tried things: turning on the air conditioner, putting in earplugs, looking for another part of the house.

I'm at the cafe now. It's closed, so I'm sitting in a chair that's locked to the other chairs by a corded padlock. The cars are rushing by. The crosswalk announces, "walk sign is on. walk sign is on. walk sign is on." every minute or two. Yet, it's still preferable to being in my own house. I guess I've already learned helplessness.