Unveiling the Secrets of Emotions

Obsessions run my life.

The focus changes from time to time. Sometimes it’s a fleeting subject, a favorite person, or a worthy cause.

My absorption remains fixed.

For years, I only read romance and self-help productivity. Now I read only self help. Trying to heal myself.

The fix yourself books and videos and newsletters and podcasts repeat one message.

Emotions.

I don’t think it’s only me who is intensely concentrating on emotions.

It’s a buzzword as science understands and digs deeper into the meaning of the feelings that inform our thoughts and compel our actions.

Emotional regulation is the key to healing. And the key to emotional regulation is mindfulness.

Dysregulation

We see kids throwing tantrums, because they are emotionally dysregulated. It’s easy to notice. Below like teen years, kids have no filter for this shit.

It just explodes all over the person nearest to them.

But somewhere along the way, most of us learned to stuff it down. We mask our anxiety. We play nice when we are angry. And we swallow our tears when we are hurt.

Most adults have a myriad of ways to numb our emotions. Screens, substances, helping others, focusing on the drama of others.

The problem with this numbing is it ends with a rebound effect. You can’t numb forever bitches! If you’ve taken a screen away from a kid, and they lost their shit, this was all the suppressed emotions rebounding. Once you put the screen away, your adult emotions come back too.

I end up laying there at night thinking about the dumb shit from my childhood, teenage years, and the best comebacks for stuff that happened last week and twenty years ago. All in one night while I’m trying to fall asleep, because I spent the evening doom scrolling.

My favorite memory for a long time remains etched in my brain. For context, I grew up in a town of 400. I was in 7th grade, and this girl from my 4-H club was at this dance I was at. No recollection of why we gathered at the hall. Anyway, I wanted my friend to feel welcome, and I knew she’d attend our school next year. So I spent too much time and energy asking boys to ask her to dance until one told me to fuck off. Actually, he told me if I wanted someone to dance with her, I could dance with her.

I was a dork. I had no social cred. Why I thought the boys who thought I was a fucking loser would dance with her because I asked, I have no idea. Anyway, I thought about that for decades. Because seventh grade does math over thirty years ago.

I don’t think about one so much anymore, but there are other stupid things my brain likes to repeat to me.

If you doom scroll, watch Netflix too late, or use substances to numb, it all rebounds like bad takeout. And dysregulation sends you to those coping mechanisms compulsively.

Messages

I am afraid of my emotions.

They always seem too big. Too loud. Too much feeling. Like I’m on a beach, and they are a tsunami sweeping me to sea and drowning me on the ocean floor.

Plus, I never know if I’m feeling right for the situation. As a kid, I never seemed to express the correct emotion. God damn, I had no reason to cry about walking to school that day. I don’t even remember why I was crying as I tried to march across the field alone. What I recall is desperately needing someone to soothe me before I could venture away from my safe haven.

What day? I don’t know, but I was in kindergarten and I thought I was late, so I lost my shit. I just sat there in front of the house crying, unable to move. Thirty-seven years and I still remember the desperation for someone to fucking soothe me because I felt out of control.

Instead, my mom yelled at me and pushed me to leave.

But I’m a grownup now. I have to soothe myself. And the first step is embracing emotions.

Emotions are messages. I’ve spent far too long ignoring the notes from my soul. Sad means I need a soft blanket. Angry means I’m actually hurting. And happy means I love myself.

I’m still learning to listen. Next we arrive at …

Mindfulness

I consume a shit ton of self help content.

Fixing myself is an obsession.

There’s always this instant magic fix, I think. This is the key to solving my problems. THIS new idea will resolve everything issue past, present, even for the future mess me will conjure. The mess inside my brain will end if I just use this shiny new app.

No app is going to correct my inner turmoil. No technique will make my emotions disappear.

I must notice the emotion first.

It’s difficult because I’m not used to it. I spent so much time numb or ignoring how I felt. So I don’t even notice, my anxiety is out of control. Instead, I’m trying to control my husband’s activities. Why the fuck aren’t you exercising? Or instead of writing, I play a video game or answer some questions on Reddit.

Maybe actions are the real message. Instead of trying to figure out what my body is feeling. I should ask myself why I’m doing what I’m doing.

Am I obsessively cleaning the kitchen because I’m anxious about my husband’s tone of voice when he arrives home? Am I wanting to play a video game because I’m hurt by the words my kid said to me?

This wasn’t the advice I was going to write when I started. I had it all planned out. Reiterating what the experts say to do. Stop and check in with your body sensations.

For me, perhaps it’s checking in with the activity I’m engaged in and what the topic I’m exploring.

This is why I write. Not to teach you, but so I learn who I am.

Self Soothing

I learned from Tim Fletcher’s Youtube (warning he’s Christian and ends most of his videos with a little sermon but his trauma info is TOP NOTCH) that slow soft music is super soothing. somewhere, I read our heartbeat syncs with music so 50–80 beats per minute is ideal.

My other practice this summer was to lie down with my softest blanket and love myself. Wrap myself up like a baby and feel I am loved. (If you want more on self love read Kamal Ravikant’s book How to love yourself like your life depends on it).

Cuddling with my Dogo. Having a warm bath. Rocking in my rocking chair are all soothing. Apparently, contacting people is also good. But I have zero trust anyone wants to support me, so I haven’t ventured into this realm yet. Someday soon.

I’m in the middle of watching Tim Fletcher’s shame series. Then his 60 traits of complex trauma. And I downloaded every podcast episode I could find with Kamal Ravikant, so we found a new hyper-focus. Note to self: avoid limerence with the author who has the bestest style of writing. I need to study this man’s technique, not become infatuated.

I never know how to conclude this shit. If you are a doom scrolling numbed out human who is struggling with wanting to cry under your desk everyday around 11 AM, check out your emotions. See if your feelings have a message for you and find out how to soothe yourself.