Last time, I covered reflecting as a method for probing yourself on your observations as well as outcomes of your actions, and I talked about using writing as a tool for reflecting productively. I ended with a note on how writing is a way for me to build empathy with myself and other people, and today, I’d like to discuss that further. Particularly when we’re not at our mental best, how do we express ourselves to other people, and how do we retain the ability to connect with others openly with negative thoughts swirling in our heads?
Loneliness
A couple of years ago, I was driving my usual hour-long commute home in the evening, exhausted from the tolls of an average work day. On this particular day, I was longing for some human connection, so I decided to muster some courage and “cold call” some old friends. Of course, this is not common practice today, so naturally, the first call went to voicemail. One became five, five became ten, and I arrived home with what must have been at least 20 calls that ended after a few hollow rings. On the one hand, this was pretty demoralizing: I felt like a loser. On the other hand, I’m sure the non-responses were not out of malignance, but rather innocuous surprise or lack of proximity to the phone. Yet, some part of me wondered: what if the people on the other side of the line were as lonely as I was at that time and just turned away from the call out of fear?
I’ve been thinking about the phrase “alone together” recently in this epoch of social distancing. When we are forced to stay away from each other, we realize the need for each other’s warmth, listening, and care in our lives. We compensate by participating in catch ups, happy hours, and group hangouts over video chat. Yet, these environments rarely provide the intimacy needed to discuss the harder truths: “I’m feeling lonely”; “I’ve lost my motivation”; “I constantly feel tired and lethargic”. Doing so would grind the well-lubricated train of casual conversation to a screeching halt. Instead, we skirt around them with gentler platitudes we see in movies and TV shows: “I’m going stir-crazy”; “I need to get out”; “I need a break.” I now see through personal channels, social media, and even the news that this feeling is common, so why are most people not willing to declare it directly?
Loneliness is a tricky demon. First, it deceives you into thinking that you are uniquely disqualified for connection. Then, it ensnares you by telling you that the rest of the world is frolicking along with no concern for you. You can’t be vulnerable and share this feeling with others because you don’t want to bring down the mood of another person whose life is “great.” To do so is a leap of faith across a dark chasm of fear that builds up in your mind more and more over time as you ruminate over your isolation from others.
But what’s on the other side of fear? Nothing. In fact, by being truthful openly and gently, you’ll find that although people may be shocked or surprised initially, they are willing to listen, to understand, and to help. You might find people even agree with you and share similar sentiments of their struggles behind the scenes. What you thought was a glossy new coat of paint was just a well-tuned filter to brush away the sadness of reality and leave only performative happiness. Though effective, it is misleading.
Connection
I’ve been spending the last few years digging myself out of the hole of loneliness. On average, being honest with others has built opportunities for connection and empathy. Of course, like any social interaction, there is an art to broaching the topic and discussing it without overwhelming the other person.
First, I needed to have an honest conversation with myself. I knew I was lonely. I also knew that I was not lonely in the past. I also believed in myself enough that at some point in the future, I would be able to reach a more desired state of social connection and fulfillment. And lastly, I knew this would take time and consistent effort, ideally happening “gradually and then suddenly.”1
Second, I needed to derive an insight that seems inane on the surface but is powerful upon further inspection: unhappiness is everywhere, and in fact, it is an integral part of daily life. This resembles the Buddhist quip “life is suffering”, but I wanted to reinterpret it positively. We can identify happiness partially in its contrast to unhappiness. Thus, to be truly happy, we must be deeply familiar with unhappiness. This makes being unhappy a less daunting and shameful concept and instead reframes it as a step in the path we must take to become happier.
Third, I needed a plan for opening up to other people. There’s always the ambiguous question: “how are you doing?”, to which the polite response must be at least as positive as: “I’m doing well.” I decided I’d give a little more color by saying “I’m ok,” at which point the conversation hits a fork in the road. In one case, the other person completely misses that my response falls beneath the standard threshold. Here I continue on and try to focus the conversation on the other person. In the other case, they pick up on this discrepancy and ask: “what’s going on?” A bite! We can assume this person is genuinely interested in learning more about my well-being, so I ease into the conversation by providing some contrasts (e.g., “Well, work is going well, but I haven’t been able to see friends lately. This leaves me feeling a bit isolated and is something I’m trying to work on.”). At this point, the conversation flows more freely, and I usually discover something less than ideal in the other person’s life, too. Funnily, taking the first step in admitting a problem usually leads to more free sharing of unhappiness in others.
This approach is simple, but it takes repeated courage and a willingness to fail, “try again, fail again, and fail better.”2 Over time, some friendships have been deepened, some have fallen off, and yet others have sprung up. Many connections I find valuable today, particularly when discussing personal circumstances and mental well-being, were formed or hardened by using this basic template above. Your mileage may vary, but leaving some room for the other person to lean in (or opt out) allows the conversation to be more honest and graceful.
Reciprocity
Of course, any connection that builds over time requires a conversation that goes both ways. Thus, in addition to speaking about your mental challenges, you also must listen actively. I’ve found that asking just the right tactful questions while listening is just as important as hearing the other person. More specifically, questions provide a framework for the conversation that your partner can develop their thought process in, resulting in clearer verbalizations of their root problems.
More on this next time. Thanks for reading!