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A month or so ago, I wrote an article about meditation. In the article, I briefly describe the turbulent year I have had. I refer to it, among other things, as an emotional bounce house.
There was a level of catharsis in writing about the “Year of Questions,” also known as the year that felt like I put my identity in the dryer too long, only to take it out and find a shrunken, uncomfortable version of me that no longer fit quite right. It was itchy and too short in the torso and something about the colors no longer felt like “me,” only a version of me I once knew.
Who knew Tide Pods and identity crisis were such a perilous duo?
For a year, I pulled at my shrunken pilling identity like a squirmy kid — unable to figure out why, at 23, I was going through such an uncomfortable metamorphosis. Why didn’t my favorite things fit anymore?! Why didn’t I fit in the life I had planned? If I couldn’t wear this sweater, then what the heck was I going to wear?!
From June to March I went from thrift shop to fancy boutique, scouring the shelves for something that would feel like the new me. Then, about a month ago after a whole year of shopping, I found solace in a brand new sweater that, at least for now, seems to fit even better than the last. So, as I often do – I wrote about it.
Of the other human beings that encompass my pod of people — very few read the words that I scribe on the interweb. At first it bothered me, now I like it. I find writing blogs akin to an internet journal of sorts.
One of the few people that does read my writing, however, is my mother. I like that too because she is kind and generally doesn’t bring up grammatical errors unless they are egregious.
“I spent this entire year feeling as if I may throw up, either from the stress, indecision, or the hangover from one too many ‘where is my life going’ martinis,” I wrote in the aforementioned article — not particularly phased by the desperation in the words because, as I mentioned, I was coming out the other end of that emotional tunnel.
My mother, however, was deeply sad.
“This whole year, I never knew you felt like that. You seemed so happy! I can’t believe you didn’t tell me you were struggling.”
I tried to explain that I was happy for so much of that year — I was also just confused, and distracted, and scared, and enmeshed in questions. I was in the thick of it — the sludgy, uncomfortable, muddy mess that is slipping and sliding around your 20s and, quite frankly, I didn’t want to talk about it.
Her question caught me off guard but didn’t surprise me. I understand how, as a mother, reading about your child’s unease retroactively can seem unfair, even cruel.
My mother’s sadness revived a question I have faced many times before. If I’m honest, this reaction has been an ongoing theme in my life — not only with my mother but with almost everyone I love.
For my entire existence, I have been inclined and prefer to process all of my emotions alone.
When I feel something (especially if it is a deep kind of feeling), I don’t talk about it until I have had ample time to let it rattle around my brain, smoosh its way through my heart, somersault in my belly, and then settle somewhere deep in my gut.
I suffer in silence and have consistently done so for my entire life, but is that deeply private inclination to process alone a detriment to my relationships?
When I am sad, mad, or conflicted, you probably will not know. You will not know that I am chewing on a big wad of discomfort until I have dissected the feeling into small, manageable pieces and that is how I like it. I need to let my organs evaluate the situation, let my synapses fire on their own without exterior influence, and truly have my pain all to myself to properly process any sort of discomfort.
I process so internally that it’s as if my body functions on its own, smiling and operation like normal, as my insides toss and turn and scream and cry.
“So, she’s incredibly introverted,” you’re probably thinking. Well, no, it’s not that either.
My greatest contradiction is my ability to eloquently describe and explain my emotions. When I am ready to discuss an experience, you’re hard-pressed to get me to stop. Oh boy, do I explain in detail the peaks and valleys of an emotional roller coaster. Only, I do it post-mortem.
I do it when the pain is deceased; when it has been laid to rest. I do it almost as an outsider looking in on my life. I experience, digest, then depict – there is no other way I know how. I don’t talk about my emotions when they’re still raw inside, like a doughy pancake — delicious but messy.
And while this strategy has been the only thing I know — and truly the only thing I am comfortable with — I think it is painful for my loved ones.
My friends, more often than not, will inquire why they are only now hearing about an incident that broke my heart or brought me to tears. They feel as if I have withheld my frustrations and fears, keeping my most trusted confidants in the dark. Loved ones, at times, have told me I don’t feel my emotions deeply, that I am too quick to move on.
My closest people, the ones I adore with every fibre of my being and trust implicitly, often feel that I don’t turn to them when I am in emotional discomfort — that my suffering in silence is a detriment to my happiness and an insult to our relationship.
I, of course, do not feel that way but I understand why they do.
I feel horribly that I cannot give them more, that I am not open about my emotions while they process. I feel almost incomplete that when I am sad, I do not say anything. Or when I am angry, that I do not cry on the phone to my friends. I used to think I was — for lack of a better phrase — emotionally stunted.
Often, I wonder if I should try harder to express despair or discomfort to those around me — but even the notion makes me queasy.
I think if I were reserved, or shy, or mysterious, or any other word that can be used to describe someone who is not me — not loud and opinionated and learning to be honest about her imperfection, then it would be okay. But I am not. I am an introspective extrovert to a tee, outgoing and sarcastic and obsessed with connection and honesty, so my deeply private coping skills often surprise those around me.
In short, I am worried that my coping mechanism is unfair to the people closest to me.
As I get older, should I try harder? Should I flip my skin inside out and feel in a way that others can see? If not to ease my loved ones, then to explore what it is like to project my emotions outwards in a way that so many say is cathartic? Or, will I forever unpack despair at the pit of my stomach where no one but I can see its squirming? And if so — will I sacrifice the feelings of the people I love in an ability to protect how I cope?
Now that I have, to some extent, level set my emotional landscape — I feel ready to truly evaluate how my existence impacts those I love.
I am inclined to suffer in silence, but I fear that it is selfish for me to continue to do so.
I am curious what you think. .
Respond
CallMeVictoria
Life is messy, let's get dirty. itwasvictoria@gmail.com
@callmevictoria
@itwasvictoria
Guys, I have something to admit, all those “lol’s” after my scriptures are just an insecure front for my crippling truth and cynicism as I rock back and forth in the fetal position on the floor because adulthood basically consists of wanting to die but at the same time being afraid of it lol
Nothing has been more true than referring to your comments as scriptures
CMV returns and the comment section matures like a fine wine, love it
I mature like a dead rat.
In my opinion, yes, because I’ve realized it the hard way. I’ve always been an “keep it to myself” guy, which works great when you’re single but it really can hurt your relationship. I always thought keeping it inside was me being a tonight, brave guy but all it really did was change the way I acted with and towards my wife (without me really knowing) and left her wondering what she might be doing wrong when it reality it was me with the struggles. I’ve learned that being open with your struggles is actually less of a burden for your loved ones/relationships and more of an opportunity to grow together, which allows you to grow yourself. Sorry for another rambling message but depression/anxiety are something serious to me that I always hope my silly words could help someone
My husband is the exact same. When something has upset him, he keeps it bottled up, not wanting to mention it, but outwardly showing it by being cold and distant to everyone in sight. He’s finally seeking professional help for his anxiety/depression, but it has been a long 10 years being on the receiving end of the silent treatment because of something that happened at work beyond my control.
I’ve had to accept that being a strong man actually means talking about feelings. Hope that professional help really helps
At least he had Dwight to prank all the time and let off some of that steam.
Professional helper here. This is something that does not come easy to all people and just like any exercise of body or will, it needs to be built like a muscle. I have seen opening up do wonders not just for a relationship but for an individual. My thoughts go out to those who are struggling silently, even needlessly so.
Mostly what he says. I tend to be very similar to you (CMV) in that I tend to process all of the stuff on my own and no one generally knows that anything is going on. Whether you realize it or not, the people that are closest to you and spend the most time with you, like a significant other, tend to notice the subtle changes even if they often misinterpret both your feelings and the reasons why.
I think it is something you should work on, but not necessarily in the way I feel like you were suggesting above where it is for them at the detriment to you. For me, what has worked the best is when I tell the people important to me, “Hey, hopefully you haven’t had to deal with any weirdness, but I’m currently dealing with X. I’m trying to wrap my head around it before I involve you, but I don’t want you to feel left out of anything. I’ll let you know if I need anything, but for now I’m going to work on getting myself back to the Robby we all know and love (tolerate).”
Then a simple cheeky grin and you’re mostly off the hook to figure out your stuff without anyone important feeling like they’re not a part of your life.
Thank you for sharing. I was (and am still, to some extent) that kind of guy too, but my fiancee has really helped me unlearn my unhelpful habits of bottling stuff up and ignoring stuff.
I came here to say this.
If you haven’t done so already crack open the book The Seven Habits of Highly Effective People
I think it’s sort of a societal expectation for men to withhold their emotions which is kind of sad. Not saying we should all be emotional messes, but it never hurts to be genuinely honest with the people around you if you feel sad, lonely, anxious, or any other “unmanly” emotion.
CMV,
I think you are just on the cusp of discovering why you do this. Let me explain…
I used to use my friends’ ears and shoulders upon entering any kind of crisis. In doing so, it allowed me to just barely graze the pain I was going to feel, vent about it, let them talk me off the edge, tell me how to “fix” it, and then I would feel like I could quickly move on.
But then a real crisis hit. My world turned completely upside down and I didn’t know how to talk about it, so I didn’t. In doing this, I learned that while my friends were wonderfully amazing and helpful people, never allowing myself to overflow with feeling never gave me the opportunity to deal with some of those deep seated feelings that were always in my gut.
I learned to sit with myself through all of the suck. I had to sort out, write down, and internalize each and every feeling that needed to felt in those moments. It was, quite honestly, an incredibly life changing experience. I work so similarly to how you described now, and I think its a really healthy way to make sure your mind is able to work through all of your emotions without feeling like they need to be tabled, fixed, or gotten over. Its absolutely excellent and self aware to know that this is how you process feelings, and I don’t think there is anything wrong with it, so long as you are consistently finding that you are able to maneuver to the so-called “end” of the feeling and find resolution. Feel your feels girl, and do them in the way that works best for you.
This is a great Ms. Emme. I was a bottle my emotions and they’ll go away kind of guy until I had some really shitty stuff go on in my life and I felt lost. Then, as you said, “I learned to sit with myself through all of the suck.” Acknowledging negativity and addressing the issue up front or at least begin to work on a resolution has been very freeing for me.
You don’t have to open up to people for the sake of opening up. People deal with emotions differently. You have to find out what works best for you.
Agreed, I certainly don’t want to be dismissive of people’s anxiety and depression but I feel like a lot of the anxiety and depression infecting American culture isn’t necessarily from clinical mental health issues but more societal exposure (i.e seeing other people’s Instagram filtered lives). In a world where social networks encourage people to step over into narcissism and lose the community networks and relationships that have formed a crucial framework for people’s mental health for millenia (to say nothing of the amount of time we all spend in front of tv, computer and phone screens nowadays) there are bound to be adverse affects.
If anyone here has ever taken a gander at how to win friends and influence people they know one of the most fundamental needs people have is to be listened to so many times in a world full of people clamoring for other people to pay attention to them it’s hard for people to feel listened to. This makes the people out there who are willing to listen or at least give the appearance of listening even more invaluable.
That is an incredibly helpful book, can’t recommend it enough!
As someone who’s consistently on the brink of an existential crisis, I think just the opposite.
Suffering in silence is polite.
When people ask you how you’re doing or if you’re okay and need anything, they’re only doing it as a polite gesture, like when someone offers you a piece of their small lunch bc you said it looks good.
Sharing your feelings/suffering with others when asked then puts a burden on them to care and try to help when in reality, they don’t want to. They just want to interact with a happy person.
But then again, maybe I’m just too cynical.
Just gotta walk up to strangers and start telling them all the crazy shit going on in your head even if they don’t ask how you’re doing. You’ll probably never see them again so who cares what they think and you’ll feel so much better for getting it out. Little kids do shit all the time and look how happy they are for no reason whatsoever
I think this is a little harsh. If a co-worker or acquaintance asks it’s more out of politeness and by no means should you unleash all your struggles on them. But sometimes a family member or close friend notices that you aren’t the person you usually are and it may help to open up in that case. Even if you don’t want to go into every detail a simple “I’ve been having a rough time lately, but I’m handling it on my own and I appreciate your concern” can go a long way
“Hanging on in quiet desperation is the English way” – Richard Wright of Pink Floyd, “Time”
“Very hard to explain why you’re mad, even if you’re not mad”
Of course, not everyone who speaks the words “how are you?” is actually asking.
But sometimes,they are. And sometimes, when you’re riding that ragged edge, you need to tell them that you’re not okay. Bear in mind I’m talking about parents/siblings/significant other/close friend here.
Something about your comment seems red-flaggish. I could be wrong. In any case my message is that if silence isn’t working for you then call out for help. Fuck being polite.
Fellow cynic, couldn’t agree more. Most people, including ‘close’ friends, don’t really care how you’re doing past the canned “good, you?” they are expecting. My close firends/siblings/family all fall into this category. Any attempt at opening up has quickly been shut down by me once I see the response I’m about to get.
This is my exact situation except my attempts at opening up are shut down by the other people. Now I just pay one person to listen to me and another to give me pills.
A wise dolphin once said if you are struggling look to see who around you is struggling that you can help. There’s always someone who has it worse and spending time away from whatever’s in your head enables you to approach it with a clearer perspective when and if the time comes to circle back on what was bothering you.
Do whatever it is you need to do to help yourself out. Doesn’t have to be the same way every time. Just make sure you take care of yourself.
Irish Catholic checking in. Is it possible to not bottle up your emotions and only allow them out when they boil over or drunk?
If it is I haven’t found it
Also Jon Mulaney joke rec
I’m not a doctor, but to me, you should probably talk to one who can help you overcome those issues. Good luck
Not sure why this is getting down votes, absolutely nothing wrong with talking to a professional.
If you think opening up more will please others then you’ll only be doing yourself a disservice and end up worse off in the long run. Those who truly care about you will find a way to deal with what works best for you. After all, it’s your life/happiness – not theirs.