A lot of people find silence peaceful. Some people find it terrifying and painful. For those who find it terrifying, silence is where words go to die. Silence is where nagging thoughts grow and engulf those who are listening to them. When I feel well, I am an absolute supporter of the golden rule, of faking it until you make it, of smiling so that someone else might feel like smiling, and of assuming good intent. But when I feel unwell, I don’t want to treat people the way I want to be treated (because that would be awful), I’m already faking it, my smile is more frightening than inspiring, and good intent has flown out the window. Good intent is for happy people. Good intent means not reading and nitpicking every conversation I’ve had for the past week. Good intent means not panicking when someone asks me if I have moment to talk. Good intent means not hyper-focusing on the parts that hurt over the parts that don’t. It can be a vicious cycle because the fear, uncertainty, and insecurity drive me, and those who feel this way, to run away from others; to feed the silence; to re-tell lengthy, toxic narratives over and over in my mind; and to make my very fears come to fruition.
In silence, the torture begins. I don’t wear my glasses, even if my eyes hurt, so that I can get by with pseudo-eye contact. If I find something that is amusing or makes me happy, I feel guilty and question that emotion. If I start feeling trust or acceptance, the response is suspicion. I think people who struggle with self-esteem and self-love tend to do what I refer to as the “push and pull.” You hunger and strive for attention and acceptance but when somebody shows you something resembling love or understanding you run. It’s better to be hurt on your own terms than to be surprised later. You feel undeserving so you run, but you hunger for it so you come back. Repeat ad infinitum. It makes no sense, I know, but it happens time and time again.
Anxious people are scared of things that aren’t there. Not only are we scared of ghosts, but also of becoming them. We know that a lot of it is in our heads, but we feel it in our guts, and our hearts beat uncommonly fast, our temperatures rise, our skin flushes, and our hands shake. Eventually it seems to go away (in days, weeks or months). Sometimes it lays dormant under the surface, waiting to burst into a night of sleepless crying. And when you try to explain why you feel the way you feel, you know that you sound ridiculous. You know that it sounds dumb and that the person listening to you now thinks less of you. In turn, these thoughts drive you to isolate yourself even further down a spiral of shame. When somebody posts something negative that might relate to you at all, you think it’s about you. When somebody ignores your messages, you think it’s about you. When somebody seems angry or irritable, you think it’s about you. Until convinced of otherwise, you’re the worst kind of narcissist. Self-contempt drives you to assume bad intent. It makes you distrustful and afraid. It makes you feel unworthy, like a burden, like a moth flying into a lamp excited for a glimpse of light before bursting into flames.
It’s hard to explain where these feelings come from. It’s often a combination of things, things that you don’t want to burden any single individual for having done or attribute to any single event. It’s also hard to say these things because pity or comfort or anything induces panic. Re-defining how people think of you, what they read in your actions, and what you need to re-think that they think that you’re thinking that they’re thinking….it’s just exhausting and frightening. It’s easier to talk to a few people, people who share their darkness with you, fellow moths drawn to the flame.
I didn’t think I would be able to share something this week, because the silence was more oppressive than usual. The voices in my head louder and nastier. The pains revisited fresher than they had been in months, if not years. And pulling at a thread unravels the ball and there’s so much, so much hidden in a tightly wound ball. Unwound wounds. However, I think characteristic of who I want to be, I need to leave us some advice:
- BREATHE. Self-care is essential, not optional. My friend Gina, Miss Asian Global 2016, just published a YouTube video about this:
- Feed your brain the right ideas. Listen to music that inspires you to look forward or enjoy the present and avoid songs that make you dwell. Start a practice of gratitude.
- Exercise. Not sometimes nor in bursts, but consistently. A healthy body and good rest is essential to healthy cognitive function.
- Learn your narratives and re-write them. Write down the thoughts that plague you and imagine if your best friend were saying these things to themselves, how would you respond? How would you rewire the negativity and argue against it?
- Talk to someone, maybe a therapist. We don’t like to admit when we’re struggling because admitting anything makes it real. But things are what they are regardless of how we feel.
- Decrease. The sense of being overwhelmed comes from too much something. Figure out what it is and nix it.
- Talk to yourself aloud. There is strength in volume so stand in front of a mirror and practice some self-love.
May your silences be peaceful and quiet.
