Town Hall Chorus Line

 

As a young person I always had a fantasy that I would have a magic pair of glasses* that would heads up display me the stats on everything I looked at. In particular, I wanted to know what was happening inside of other people. Firstly, what they thought of the things I said and did (what young person isn’t insecure first and foremost?), but also when they said they flossed every night, did they REALLY? Were they as loose with language aka telling the truth as I was, or was I choosing my words to hide out in the plain sight of low expectations. But I also wanted to know a second thing, how many times had thought my thoughts.

Lately I’ve been thinking about thought loops, and how to break them. Thought loops here refers to patterns of thinking that are so well worn, they cycle very quickly (like those motorbikes in globe metal cages). I thought this was a better established term, but upon googling, I’m less sure. In my case, I have always imagined my thoughts as a sort of town hall, each thought having a sort of originating voice, even if those voices are not always easy to place (like guessing voice actors in Dreamworks movies). Many parts vying to say their two cents, sometimes jostling for airtime, but mostly just hitting their mark. 

It becomes a sort of routine, like a song or a play. Each problem solver comes in with their part

Attention, tonight we are here to discuss a feeling. And the feeling is:

I feel anxious about this party tonight

Core self: That’s a normal thing to feel, socializing always has a little bit of risk to it. Which makes it intimidating but also exciting! We’ve felt this many times about many parties and still attended and most of the times, we’ve had a great time once we arrived. But it’s our choice, it’s certainly ok if we don’t go to this party, the world will keep on spinning, and they’ll always be another one.

(Sometimes Toxic) Positivity: It’s all about who you know in this world, and you want to know more people! You want more friends and a partner and creative collaborators, and you’re not gonna meet them at home! So get your butt out the door!

Intellectual Critic: Sure, STP, in theory. But this is a new work friend, that to be frank we don’t even know that well. They think we’re nice, but that’s a little different than having a similar worldview, sense of humor, etc. What are their friends even like? They are younger, so there’s an age gap there as far as potential relationships, plus potential generational chasms in conversation. It’s probably the right decision not to put too much stock in it, and therefore it’s ok to miss it.

Scorekeeper: Bro, you always do this. We should just go to the party. If we are having a bad time, we can leave. It will be better than just not going at all. If we stay in again, sure it doesn’t matter much, but also we’re not working towards our stated goals. You stay in most nights, and go out so little!

People Pleaser: Well if we’re going to go we’ll need to bring something, and we still haven’t figured out what that is, so we need to get on that pronto. If not, we’ll need to send a text that’s either honest about the voices (but not too honest!) or a pleasant enough white lie so they don’t think we’re a bad person.

Productivity Monster: if Intellectual Critic is right, and we don’t think we’re going to meet someone at this party, then honestly we could get some work done, we’re behind on mini album commissions, we need to work on Mel’s website design, and we have a newsletter to send out next week. We could get any of these things done. Plus, having to work is always an acceptable excuse, as PP well knows.

Inner Child: We’re going to feel left out! We don’t even know what the party is going to be like if we don’t go! Stop acting like we know. Maybe something really fun and funny will happen. And besides we sometimes feel so lonely! We shouldn’t be a loner if we don’t want to be!

Feeling 2.0: Maybe I should go, but I don’t know if I’ll know anyone there, and maybe I’ll be weird and bad at small talk, or flirt with the wrong person, or flirt poorly, or accidentally say something mean

Core Self (again): It can be hard going to a party by ourself, but by now we’ve done it many times. We will know 2-4 people there based on the RSVP we filled out, plus we’ve gotten a lot better at talking to strangers after all the craft shows we’ve done (which we love!). We are trying to meet new people so we will probably feel happy we tried. Plus we’ll get to do a “socializing” tally in our habit tracker.

Mean Guy: Get real dude, we’re not going, and we’re not going to do any work either. This is why years roll by and we’re alone. We don’t have the bravery to do these things that we want. We’re not fearless like when we were younger. We’re full of fear, and that fear is WHO WE ARE. Don’t fight it. Grow up and accept that we will never change.

Shame: Don’t let him talk to us like that! First off, WE MIGHT GO, it’s only been 5 minutes since we started these racing thoughts, and we’re going to keep having them like this for hours! Sometimes from sheer force of will we go, even though we hate it and its terrifying. Everyone talking is so exhausting, can't you all just be quiet for a second?

ANNNND SCENE

Something like that. A cacophony of thoughts I am starting to dissect and name as individuals**. They race through their paces and wait for their next turn to speak. Churning through my emotional energy while missing the core issue. The honest acknowledgement of my emotions.

Like so many people my age, I was not raised to show emotion. A crying person must be comforted swiftly and BY FORCE. Not forgiving someone immediately is akin to violence, seen as just as bad and maybe WORSE, than whatever the offender did in the beginning. Strategies that all work towards the same goal. Get these emotions OUT OF HERE. Put those things away, they’re indecent, what if someone sees?

Which is probably why (despite not wanting to) I care so much about what others think, if only in the abstract. And why my feelings, to some degree, cause all this (internal) conversation.

So often I have used depression and sadness to explain my feelings because it is the emotion I am most comfortable being seen as having. I love to sleep and nap, am often sluggish, and even when I don’t feel like making a nest in the couch to go spelunking for dreams, apparently my face and demeanor give off strong “you look tired” vibes. I am a habitual lacker of motivation, though I strive in my ability to say, glue paper scraps together, I am incredibly UN-motivated to fill out job applications or post to social media. And lastly, I have been seen as someone who is a downer (see my hater with a heart of gold blog post to read more on that), or who struggles to be positive. I talk about injustice, and how poorly the average person is treated, because well, it bothers me. A lot.

All these things I think just made sense with depression. And so when I was diagnosed over 10 years ago, I reveled in the diagnosis. Having a new world to dive into and read about, the symptoms, the issues, the struggles was exciting. As someone who loves to craft an argument and a narrative, I accepted the storyline as valid, believable, containing good character depth. Many great artists are depressed or whatever, I’m sure.

And so I ventured on with my SSRI and my off and on therapy and my self help books and my New Years resolutions ( I still do all of these things, I just also did them then). And the town hall conversations then, that was just my brain. And though the thoughts were very much the same, I didn’t feel quite so out of whack. Quite so tired (though still tired) quite so lacking in motivation (although sometimes I had none), quite such a grump (though actually why would I pretend like there aren’t massive problems in our world that need addressing?). At first, I sparkled in the diagnosis, but over time I couldn’t make heads or tails of it. How much better even was I?

I started doing a mental health log (which I still do) to track my mood and see if the drugs were helping, and they were a little! And any help is worth it when you’re struggling. And so I kept logging, and I kept going. Twice over 10 years I would up my dose, and my numbers would point to such, a month with very few good days or two weeks plus of feeling low. But the thoughts were always the same. I just accepted them. Yeah that’s how I think, that’s who I am, but some of the voices also write poetry and are funny and kind and have great ideas, and can cook, etc, so take the good with the bad.

And here’s the thing. When the thoughts do their town hall, they make me tired. When they’re banging around in my head they overwhelm me, and make it hard to get things done. Not just because they’re chiding and poking me to keep me from what I want. Sometimes my thoughts are curious and and delighted by finding the lesser known. Listening to new music, watching weird films, reading difficult books. And if you’re not seeing where I’m going, I’ll just say that I have ADHD (look back at my writing style in general and every word of this post for more clues). I may have depression (although I may not), but my problem, what’s always felt off to me in my life, is that my thoughts GO SO DAMN HARD that I lose my bearings.

I remember in high school applying to colleges and I just couldn’t get myself to fill out more than one application. And you can imagine, quite the town hall was going on. You don’t want to go to that college, and the other one, you won’t get in, but probably you should have a backup, but also who cares I don’t even care about college I’m going to be a writer, you don’t need school for that. You get the drift. I was worn out by my ADHD and so I procrastinated, and missed deadlines and then justified missing those deadlines, I even got an extension because my guidance counselor reached out to the school, after noticing I had written the due date wrong. And my reaction at getting a second chance? “Oh I appreciate that, but I’m good.” I’d already made peace with not having to fill out the application, and while it made feel confused and hot and embarrassed, it was also a relief. I’m just no good at those things, you know, because they’re hard. And also stupid.

I was never diagnosed because I was so afraid of having something like that. A “learning disability,” in the common parlance of the time. It sounded like something you got as a punishment for bad behavior. It might as well have been terminal to young Greg. And because I wasn’t raised to recognize my emotions (especially my fears and frustrations), I just did whatever it took to make sure I never got punished with something like that. I got good grades, and school was easy, so obviously no one suspected I had that. But then when I went to college and they actually required you to work, and work on your own, when you couldn’t do all the worksheets in half a study hall. Without the fear of my parents knowing my grades constantly it became clear that I was having trouble, not even the grades, just motivating myself to do the work. But I just thought, I guess I don’t like college. And there is truth to that. But the reason I didn’t like college? Because I needed structure to function and I suddenly didn’t have it, after the ultra structured and supported high school routine. I could join many organizations, not because they would look good on a college application, but I guess because you're supposed to want to? My indecision protected me from those choices by making as few as I could get away with. But internally I was always found wanting by internal committee.

I started on ADHD medication about 6 months ago, and it worked on day 1. I suddenly felt able to focus better. I still got sidetracked and off-task, but the chorus didn’t go off when I did. I just caught myself eventually, and went back to what I was supposed to be doing. And this past week I had a low period, and I even watched the town hall for a little bit, and then as if by magic, I didn't. It wasn’t this force inside of me that couldn’t be ignored because it was all I could see, hear, feel, experience. It wasn’t who I am. I paused the song, walked out of the play, and had as strong of a feeling as you have going from one room to the other. IRL, I missed a party because I ate a big thing of mac and cheese and fell asleep. Maybe I was emotionally eating because I was a little low, and a little anxious re:town hall above, but it just wasn’t a whole to do. Like my core self said, the world kept on spinning.

I don’t want to end on the note that I got the right medication and everything’s easy now and life can finally begin. But I’ve been working really hard in therapy and in general on myself, and the things that have unlocked new information about myself, have been twofold. One, I have started writing again. Not writing for all these years closed off a really important outlet for myself. Creatively, but also as someone who wants to get at the essence of things. A lover of self-improvement and being intentional. And most importantly someone who wants to be a better communicator in any form. Two, and this one goes hand in hand, is being honest. You can’t really work on yourself unless you get really honest about what you think, how you behave, who you love, what you’re afraid of. And though I’ve been in therapy off and on for these past 10 years, I have never been brutally, radically honest.

I held things back, defended myself, and explained away my behavior to therapists. And while I can talk all day about myself and my thoughts, and this one's hard but, feelings, it is truly of diminishing returns if you’re not being honest to the point of discomfort. Because then the chorus is just coming out to perform for someone else. It’s the key to good writing, and to working on yourself. It's the honesty that got me to a diagnosis that feels more helpful than the first. It's the honesty that started me on a path that feels more true to the life I want to live. Fingers crossed!

 

 

*yes I know I sound like I support the tech brained ideology that having glasses with AI assistants is actually great for mankind, but the problem is not the innate desire, to understand your fellow man, but that the incuriosity towards why we yearn for that or even the realization that many things we would want are actually unknowable, and being mature enough to make peace with that. Then re-focusing your energy on problems that technology is well suited for, that will help people and save lives, you know a level of benevolence and maturity we can never expect from a Billionaire. Not just that the glasses are silly, which of course they are. Also a privacy nightmare.

**This by the way is how IFS, my current therapy style works, but is also how I’ve thought of my brain more or less for a long time. I was even planning a zine about all the different me’s inside of me sort of thing. Before I came across it.