Tag: emotions

Anger is a Splinter

Bailey GunnLeave a comment

When you think about emotions, what comes to mind? What does happy look like? Is it a group of friends laughing together? What does sadness look like? Is it raindrops running down a window? What does fear look like? Is it a dark room with a single door?

And what about anger? Is it more than the color red?

For me, anger is not an emotion in the traditional sense. It is a reflex in much the same way that someone may tap your knee, and it will respond with a kick. In simpler terms, you may notice that anger is first out of you when something bad happens, instead of an emotion like sadness, because you haven’t had time to rationalize or process your feelings yet. Once you have taken the time to think it through, you turn to another emotion to cater to your expressive needs.

On the other hand, sadness, happiness, and even fear are not reactive. They are the product of something, but only after you’ve had time to ruminate. Anger is somewhat pure in that it is not tainted by thought, and actually, it is so strong because it’s devoid of thought entirely.

But of course, anger is problematic as a result of its nature. You may find yourself lashing out because of not being able to form what it is that you want to convey, and so anger beats you literally and metaphorically to the punch.

This is why anger is like a splinter.

Splinters. You will notice when you get one…or at least you think it’s a splinter. It could be just a little bump of unusual pain in the middle of your hand. You don’t really know because you can’t see anything. All you know is that you are hurting and the sharp sting of the tweezers is not making it any better.

It’s the same thing with anger. You don’t really notice that anything has happened until you are crying and honking uncontrollably at the car that cut you off. You don’t really think that you are upset until you are eating your feelings and swaddling yourself into a snuggie. You don’t really know what’s come over you, but you would love to start a fight club right after your book club. Anger is also a generalized, unreachable pain.

Now the trick is to head off your anger. You have to identify the exact issue you are angry at, the exact position of the splinter. Because your pain and frustration radiates and poisons everything else if you don’t. It creates layers and layers and layers until you are shouting at a shadow when you should really be telling a loved one “I’m sorry.”

Simply remember that anger is a symptom like pain, and that it is does not represent the emotion that you are actually feeling. Rather, anger is a substitute, a filler, and until you can identify what you should be really feeling (frustration, grief, jealousy, confusion), you need to root around with your tweezers until you can find the right spot. Ask yourself: Okay, I know the barista getting my order wrong is not what I’m actually cheesed off about, but what is making me so upset? It may be momentarily painful for you, but it will save everyone around you their own anger.

And even more like splinters, remember that anger is pretty much unavoidable. It would be great if it never happened again, but since that is unlikely, it’s simply best if you kept a pair of emergency tweezers nearby. And of course, ask for help when you need it.

You Won’t Like Me When I’m Angry

Bailey Gunn1 Comment

Tonight, we’re going to talk about our feelings.

No, seriously.

You can work to swallow them, hide them, or even pretend that they don’t exist. But feelings are a part of us, and without them, we’d all be Cybermen.

(Personally, I like to sing to in the car to expel my emotions. Performing a concert live where no one can hear me sing the wrong words and notes makes me feel like Beyonce, and we all know that no one can hurt the queen’s feelings.)

It was during one of these solos inside of my car that I realized something about one specific emotion: anger. Anger is unlike any other feeling because it is so fleeting. It transforms too quickly to envy, fear, sadness, or even apathy. We don’t really experience anger all that often, at least not in its purest form.

But when we do experience anger, and here’s where my revelation comes in, we are not angry in the way that we have made ourselves believe. Have you ever realized that when you are angry at someone or something it’s because they didn’t do what you expected them to do instead of being angry at them for what they did? Isn’t anger then simply surprise and confusion?

Think about it. When you were younger and you did something wrong, oh say, stuff a lot of tissues in the porcelain throne to see what would happen (like I did), you can probably remember that your parents were pretty angry. Or at least, you could probably guess that they would be very angry if you did such a thing. Why? Because you did permanent damage to the toilet? Maybe. But they could buy another one. Because you purposefully tried to break something? I guess, but you were just a kid.

No, it was because you weren’t acting as your parents were expecting you to act. I don’t know why, but most parents simply assume that their children will wear halos and do what they are told. And everything we know, from fairy tales to television shows, tells us that this is not true. So, kid goofs off, parents get angry, kid gets punished, kid promises never to do it again (with variable results).

Think of another situation. What about when you forget to buy something for your anniversary with your partner? Why does he or she get angry, you ask? Not because they really wanted a present, and not even because this is probably the fifth time you forgot. (Although, yes, it is probably the fifth time you forgot and that sucks for the other person.)  But the reason they are probably angry is because you are not acting as they’d expect you to act. 

Consider one more scenario. You have a best friend. You develop feelings for him or her. Then, when you build up the nerve to tell this person, he or she tells you that they are not interested, but they would like to stay friends. You, in turn, are angry. So, you declare yourself eternally in the “friend zone” (which does not exist) and proceed with whatever course of action that scorned lovers take. But really, you guessed it, you are only angry with your best friend because he or she did not act as you expected. This causes feelings of mistrust and hurt, and that’s understandable. But it isn’t your best friend’s fault for being honest with you.

Essentially, you need to evaluate the situation the next time that you find yourself angry at someone or something. Most often, you will find that you are angry because things didn’t go the way that you were expecting them to. And if you are going to be angry about that, then you are going to be angry for the rest of your life.

I Never Watch the End of Moulin Rouge

Bailey GunnLeave a comment

because it’s sad.

The End.

No, seriously.  I watch the epic singing number, Nicole Kidman regal in her silver headdress and Ewan McGregor, in all of his misguided writerly passion. Then they twirl in rose petals or something and sing, “The only thing you’ll ever learn is how to love and be loved in return.” And then they kiss, and the evil redhead with a bad lisp is conquered, and some absinthe is had by all.

That’s the ending that I see.

What really happens is (and spoiler alerts abound here, but the movie has been out for years, so shame on you) Kidman breathes her last breath by coughing up blood from a crippling bout of consumption, and McGregor cries over her body in probably the most anguished way I have ever seen. His grief is almost repulsive, almost provocative. And then he dies, shriveled around his typewriter, a loveless man.

Okay, I made up the last part. But honestly I’m surprised I can even still remember the ending because I refuse to watch it. And believe me, there are plenty of other movies that I do this with, that I don’t remember the beginning/middle/end because I refuse to watch them. I keep myself in a sweet cinematic oblivion.

But what a difference it makes when I just cut off that last part in Moulin Rouge. Then, I live in a rose-colored world where clouds are made of cotton candy. And what a nightmare it is when I watch that last part. There’s suddenly a dark cloud over my entire life, and it’s made of black licorice (yuck!). Really, it is like some awful “choose your own adventure” story. On one hand, you have the perfect fairy tale. On the other, you have a Grimm’s fairy tale. And there’s NO in-between.

And while I could make this post entirely about one half of humanity, (me) who stops it before it gets ugly, and the other half of humanity, (not me) who pushes on and completes the entire film, it’s not really about that. Or, it’s not as cut and dry.

I think the real issue is that technology, on a greater scale, is going to continually give us the tools to numb ourselves, and we are going to keep asking for them. Excuse me if I simply regurgitate the entire plot of Click, but aren’t we all going to get to the point where we just fast forward through all of the sad parts? Actually, that’s where we are now. I am doing that now. Maybe not in my actual life, but in media. And we are getting to the point where the line is blurring between the two.

So, what I am taking issue with is not our ability to create. To make technology work for us. To direct, shoot, and produce sad films that I will inevitably have to fast forward through. It’s that we have such a problem with emotions in our culture. And we’re using technology as a huge bandage on this festering problem. Because about every song I hear is some woman trying to act tough by telling her ex-lover that he’ll “never see her cry.” And don’t get me started on men and crying. (And really, most men could use a good cry.)

So, why don’t we? Why aren’t we allowed to cry? Who decided that it was weak to cry? We seriously have some sick obsession with denying ourselves the catharsis of tears. Pills, food, and yes, even the fast forward button, all keep us safe from that dark, spiraling staircase we’re all afraid to go down inside of ourselves.

But of course, like all things, it starts with you. You have to give your permission to feel before what I tell you will sink in. (I would prefer if I wasn’t the one who made you cry, either.)

But if you don’t let your emotions out to play once in awhile, I promise you that they will come tearing out of you. And it will take all of your strength to put the cork on when it’s over.

So, once in awhile, watch Moulin Rouge to the end. Cry. Feel. Know that not everything gets tied up nicely at the end. And other times, turn it off. Live in a world where things are sweet and poetically justified.

Just don’t torture yourself. Well, maybe just a little bit. To remind yourself what pain feels like. And then shut it off again. Or fast forward. Whatever you prefer. Just remember to feel once in awhile.

Just remember to cry.

A Cold Hard Look at Happy

Bailey Gunn1 Comment

Don’t cover your ears. I promise this isn’t about Pharrell’s latest hit.

But another musician has a good question for you: Laura Marling. She asks, “When were you happy, and how long has that been?” 

Well? Don’t let the good lady wait. How long has it been since you were happy?

If you’re looking at the ground, avoiding contact with this blog post because you can’t really remember the last time you were happy, I don’t blame you. And if you can remember when you were happy, but you’re ashamed because it’s been awhile, I don’t blame you either.

Because here it is, straight no chaser: we put too much pressure on ourselves to be happy. And then, when we are, it’s hard to pinpoint why.

Throughout your day, you experience a lot of emotions. A range, a wealth, a deluge. And they span the Richter scale of negativity and positivity (not necessarily in that order. Sometimes it’s more like positive, negative, negative, negative, positive, negative, positive, sleep). We collect feelings like a deck of playing cards: Stress, confidence, panic, sheer panic, confusion, delight, etc. And all of those feelings get pushed aside because someone has told you that you should be happy, all the time. Because if you’re happy, everything will be alright.

But happy is like anything else. Getting skinny won’t solve all of your confidence problems. Getting rejected from a job or from a love interest does not mean you’re the absolute worst. And likewise, being happy won’t fix all of your problems.

You just have to have a positive outlook most of the time about most of your life. Everyone gets down, everyone wants to employ a fetal position sometimes, everyone has an Achilles heel that when pinched turns you into the Incredible Hulk when you’re usually like Hello Kitty. But, somehow, everyone gets through it. And somehow, you do too.

So, let’s get technical. (Talk nerdy to me).

The definition for “happy” that you’ve been operating under goes a little something like this: feeling pleasure or enjoyment because of your life, situation, etc.

But the full definition of “happy” includes this little gem: favored by luck or fortune.

And BAM! You’re back in your high school English class, and you realize that Juliet (famous for her Romeo) does not talk to a “happy” dagger because she is feeling pleasure or enjoyment (because she isn’t) but that she is lucky that she has the dagger. (Morbid stuff, huh?)

So, maybe if we stop forcing ourselves to be pleased with our situation. If we stop trying to draw smiles on our faces when we really just feel like screaming into a pillow (or multiple pillows, or a full mattress), maybe then we could strive for happiness. But until that time, we need to see our lives as lucky or fortunate instead of simply pleasurable. We need to take the typical “happy” pressure off ourselves. If you’re gonna smile, then smile like you mean it.