StoryGator

I'm sad to be sad – recursive emotions

Last week was the emotional equivalent of quick sand. The descent was slow enough to let you enjoy the role of both victim and observer (and in a way, also the role of culprit for jumping into it) and every effort to break free made it worse. Bizarre, fascinating, and cruel.

Ok, we're used to emotions basically from the get-go. The first action of a newborn is to scream, some say we have to blow up our lungs for the first time, others believe us to be hungry, or maybe it is the sudden separation from our mother in combination with bright, sterile light. Whatever it is, this first emotion won't be our last and as pointed out above, we're victims and observers (and way too often culprits) at the same time. So what about the quick sand?

My emotions this week may have felt justified, but they were equally unwanted. And then the brain kicked in / switched off, judging the situation itself using the same emotion: I was sad. And I was sad about being sad. I was angry. And I was angry at myself about being angry. I was annoyed. And I was annoyed at myself about being annoyed.

You see the problem. Recursively spiralling away from the primary source of my emotion (and if present: the justification for it) down the staircase until whatever was going on was my fault, unpleasant, and simply therefore my fault again.

Maybe that's why hate is such a top seller out there. How often do you hear of someone hating themselves for hating? They stick close to their 'justifications' or don't need one to start with.

Anyway, this isn't a blog promoting hate. (Believe me, I'd hate me for it.) So how did I escape the quick sand? Well, I didn't honestly. I accepted the primary emotion for what it was, stopping the spiral... and then I waited. I didn't fight it, I didn't mourn it. I waited. And after a while the sand dried up and I could move on. Figuratively and metaphorically.

It wasn't easy to calm my problem-solving—situation-controlling instincts. Trust the process. You will get out. Give it time. Breathe. Listen to the zen fortune cookie. And try not to get angry or annoyed at yourself for it.

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Next post: “Only a Sith deals in absolutes” Last post: “Whose side are you on?”

“Whose side are you on?”

This question can feel omnipresent at times. We face decisions every day, moral systems try to present themselves as binary. Then, does it mean that by myself, I am safe from this question?

Earlier this week I received a mail, and packed within it was a compliment: “Thank you for your support. In 25 years, I have not had better guidance for this.” ... ... ... ... ... [ Please imagine a lot more lines here.]

After reading this, I was stunned at first. A feeling I can vividly recall right now when writing this: The blinking cursor waiting for my next words, for a direction of thoughts, for ... ... something. Blinking into the gap.

I could have just stood up, smiled the moment away, turned around and ignored the gap. This time, let's face it. Why was I stunned? Was I even truly “stunned”? And what's the truth underneath? It took me time to unpack it and in its essence: I couldn't reason the compliment away. It was a credible, honest, and unasked for compliment. Freely given. I found no flaw, no misconception. No fight, no flight, just fright. I was: defenceless.

Then whose side am I on? Whose side is my reasoning on? Feeling defenceless because I failed to reason a compliment away.

Not this time. This time, let's face it. Let's embrace the compliment. Let's embrace the fact itself that I can't reason it away. That it is credible. Let's be grateful and proud.

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Next post: “I'm sad to be sad – recursive emotions” Last post: “Who's the protagonist?”

“Who's the protagonist?”

When looking at storytelling and self-love, judgement and motivation go hand in hand. “Why do I do this? Why didn't I do the other thing?” “Not that I like it, but I made a promise...” “BUT WHAT WILL THE NEIGHBOURS SAY???”

And the spiral can go on and on. A few days ago, I had a dinner invitation coming up. It has been planned for a while (it's an annual event actually) and I was truly looking forward to it. Unfortunately though, I woke up in some kind of an energetic down state. A busy and draining week, a bad night's sleep... I guess we all know that.

“Then just stay home, I can go without you.” is what was offered after I opened up to a fellow invitee. To “just” do what I feel like doing. (The word “just” is a definite candidate for its own dissection here in the future. It's a fantastic example of a word being comforting in outside talk and pressuring in internal self-talk.)

“Then just stay home” is the kind of advice I happily – and honestly – give to others. I truly mean it. Take care of yourself, practice mental hygiene, there will be another occasion! After all, it's an (annual!) dinner event, not a funeral. And in general. This was one of the lessons I hoped to stay from Covid times. And my internal self-talk was equally as compassionate and understanding, right? No? Well of course not. I gave myself a hard time. I was defendant, attorney, and judge in personal union.

I am not going into detail now. There's no point to it. And THAT is exactly the point. I wouldn't dare to speak like this to a close friend. Is the correct – and cruel – implication then that I'm not a close friend to myself? ... ... ... [time for the penny to drop] ... ... ... And I forgave myself. I applauded myself for making the understandable and justified decision.

“It was a tough week. And although it would be a great event, you might be even more drained afterwards. Taking care of yourself is the foundation of everything else. If I were in your place (which I am and that's the point) I would. Do. The. Same. Have a good one!”

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Next post: “Whose side are you on?” Last post: “And my story goes...”

“And my story goes...”

At the turn of every year, we look back, then we look forward. And we strive to feel something. It could be content, or at least feel like it. Although content has this label of “stagnation” attached to it which society tries to shame away. It could be happiness. Yet then happiness can be taken away, vanish or – perhaps even crueler – slowly dwindle. None of these are as painful as what proceeds them: the fear of loss. It could be eagerness. Now finally we reached the realm of positive emotions directed forward. But eagerness can be incited by a whole pantheon of inner dark spots.

Then... back to bed it is? Or is there something else. Not too big, not too small, not too specific maybe. Rooted in positivity but without force.

“Hope is not the conviction that something will turn out well but the certainty that something makes sense, regardless of how it turns out.” [Vaclav Havel]

I got inspired today by a “Love Yourself” lesson and how it needs to start from the way we talk to ourselves. Having a passion for storytelling myself, I decided to investigate the way I tell my story. To myself and to others. And so here we are.

A new Hope – “And my story goes...”

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Next post: “Who's the protagonist” Last post: “About me”