Emotions: What's the point?

Deconstructing emotions is a recurring theme in my therapy practice. A lot of people, especially those of us who consider ourselves "thinkers" rather than "feelers", have an uncomfortable relationship with our emotions. To further complicate it, society often tells us that some feelings are "good" and others are "bad", prompting us to avoid or seek them out accordingly.

Unfortunately, when we attach unnecessary moral value to our emotions or try to dispense with them completely, we end up making our feelings even harder to understand and accept. It also yields some surprising barriers to healthy functioning. 

I don’t think it’s a coincidence that the language we use to describe having emotions is the exact same language we use to describe physical sensations: we “feel” emotions in much the same way that we “feel” things like heat, tension, or pain. Just like physical sensations, our feelings only have meaning when looked at in context. Feelings might seem unhelpful, inconvenient, or overwhelming based on the circumstances, but that doesn't make them unimportant.

It would be strange to think of a physical sensation as “wrong” because our body sensations always have some kind of value that helps us survive. If I accidentally stepped into a bear trap, I would experience pain. Even though the pain would be unpleasant, it would be very useful. Without it, how would I know that I had a nasty wound on my food that needed attention?

Emotions offer us equally relevant information. We need to pay attention to them if we want to function effectively. If someone tried to live life ignoring their emotions (and many people have), they would be doomed to eventually suffer the consequences of overlooking the crucial information their emotions had to offer.

So what exactly do our feelings tell us? Each emotion has a specific function, giving us unique information about what we’re experiencing and how we can choose to respond. Just like we would want to collect as much data as possible before developing a scientific theory, knowing what our feelings are telling us allows us to make more informed decisions. 

I like to ask two main questions when investigating emotions:

1) What information is this giving me?
2) What is this motivating me to do?

Fortunately for us, each of the basic emotions occurs under specific circumstances, making them easier to identify. Additionally, they each have a purpose: to give us energy and motivation to do something necessary. Here's my breakdown of some of the most common emotions and the information and motivations they give us.

Anger informs me there has been a perceived injustice to myself or others.
Anger motivates me to speak up, defend myself or others, or do what I can to stop continued injustice.

Disgust informs me that something I'm exposed to seems repulsive to toxic me.
Disgust motivates me to either get away from the source of my repulsion OR evaluate my bias against it.

Fear informs me that there has been a perceived threat to one of my needs.
Fear motivates me to find a way to fight, flee, or play dead (freeze) to defend myself from the threat.

Guilt informs me that I have done something that is incongruent with my core values.
Guilt motivates me to stop the incongruent behavior, make amends, or reassess my values.

Hurt informs me that I have been wounded.
Hurt motivates me to take adequate time to heal and set protective boundaries to prevent future wounds.

Enjoyment informs me that I am appreciating something that's here and now.
Enjoyment motivates me to notice my gratitude, savor the moment, and seek it out again.

Loneliness informs me that I am lacking meaningful connections with others.
Loneliness motivates me to be vulnerable enough to seek genuine connections with other people.

Sadness informs me that I have experienced a loss.
Sadness motivates me to take adequate time to grieve and accept that the loss occurred and evaluate if I want to risk that kind of loss again.

Shame informs me that I am confronting my human limitations and imperfection.
Shame motivates me to accept my humanity and set realistic expectations and boundaries for myself.

That's all I have for now.

Thoughts? Feelings? Moral objections? Personally, I think living is a lot easier and more effective when we actually listen to our emotions and take action in a constructive way. If you've tried the alternative, you already know the consequences. 

The Bieber Incident (aka Confronting My Trauma)

I'm going to take a break from the Empathy Equation to tell you my "you have unresolved trauma" wake-up call. It took the stupidest form ever. A seemingly innocuous joke triggered a full-blown panic attack for me at work, witnessed by dozens of people. At the time, I was working as an office admin for the youth ministry of a very large, very conservative church in Dallas. The team of fun-loving youth pastors I worked with was notorious for playing silly pranks on each other and laughing hysterically. Fun, right? Well, this particular day was the first time the joke was played on me. TW: I definitely didn't react in a fun-loving way.

My boss, the youth director, had acquired a larger-than-life-sized cardboard cutout of a pre-teen Justin Bieber a few months prior. It had already been featured in numerous practical jokes around the office. High-fives had been had by all. On the day of the Bieber incident, as I jokingly refer to it now, I was walking out of my office to check the mail when a gigantic, man-shaped Bieber jumped aggressively out at me from the shadows. He even roared like a monster: "Bugatey, bugatey boo!!"

In the past, when any of my coworkers had been the victims of this prank, they had shown momentary shock and then immediately started laughing. Not me. I made a high-pitched scream and jumped so high, I was practically crawling on the ceiling. I started shaking uncontrollably and crumpled to the floor, sobbing, gasping for air, and feeling like I was absolutely dying. My boss, who had been wielding the offending Bieber was speechless. After regaining control of my limbs, I fled to the bathroom, locked the door behind me, vomited, and cried as I tried to stop shaking.

I was absolutely mortified by my public hysteria, especially since I generally pride myself on being in control of my emotions. (I better not see anyone rolling their eyes!) My desperation to prove that I was a fun, chill, and *ahem* normal member of the team was crushed in that one spectacular meltdown. I spent about an hour locked in the bathroom, getting my panic under control, and, naturally, spiraling into shame. 

When I finally emerged from the bathroom, multiple well-meaning coworkers grimaced at me with worried expressions. My boss apologized profusely and after a few minutes of silence, he tentatively asked, "So…um… What happened?" I was at a loss. I’d just spent the last hour asking myself that exact same question. (Well, technically, I think the exact question I was asking was, "What the fuck just happened?")

The Bieber incident was the first time I truly confronted the fact that I was still deeply impacted by childhood trauma and I needed to address it. I'd gone to therapists numerous times (always at churches) for depression, but the topic of trauma had never come up. I had chalked up my depression to be a “thorn in my side” that I just needed to live with. The Bieber incident proved it wasn’t going to be that passive of a process.

Confused but intrigued, I started looking for explanations for why I reacted the way I did. Google insensitively informed me that having an “exaggerated startle response” is a common symptom of Post Traumatic Stress Disorder. Rude. The more I read, the more the sobering reality started to sink in. I went to a psychologist (this time, one who specialized in trauma) who confirmed the diagnosis. It was like discovering a gaping wound in my chest that I’d been blissfully ignorant of until then.

I started trauma therapy and reluctantly began examining the long-tucked-away memories of my childhood and the problematic thinking patterns that had come with them. I gave myself permission to stop running from my darkest memories. It was miserable. Whenever I processed a "big" trauma, it seemed like 4 more would pop up in its place, like a diabolical hydra. I was determined, though, hungry to learn about what I was experiencing. 

Although I didn’t have the words for it then, the Bieber incident had kickstarted a pivotal change in how I viewed myself. In hindsight, the work I was doing in therapy was me working through the Empathy Equation…for myself. My PTSD breakdown had highlighted feelings, beliefs, and behaviors that didn’t make sense to me. In order to solve that mystery, I had to investigate my identity, experiences, and circumstances with curiosity and non-judgment.

As I slowly got to know myself, I discovered a problematic core belief that had unconsciously been the foundation of my worldview my entire life. It was this: My feelings don’t matter. It wasn’t a belief that I had chosen, but one that I acquired through years of repressed trauma and trying to smother my fear for the greater good. The Beiber incident made me realize I had a habit of shutting off any awareness of my needs in order to handle situations where I felt trapped and powerless.

Confronting my trauma forced me to start paying attention to my body’s constant tension and stress and actually look for solutions instead of hiding. As I slowly opened the door to self-empathy, I not only uncovered parts of my identity that I had never acknowledged before, but I actually started treating myself like I mattered. That was the year I quit my job and started my master's in counseling.

Experiences & Circumstances (The Empathy Equation)

We’re working through the Empathy Equation and here’s a quick reminder:

Identity + Experiences + Circumstances = Feelings + Beliefs + Behaviors

Earlier in the blog, I talked about origin stories, the dramatic backstories of heroes or villains that help to explain their motivations. Origin stories aren’t just in fiction, though. Every single human has an origin story of their own and, believe it or not, their feelings, beliefs, and behaviors can all be understood in that context. Today I’m focusing on the most obvious parts of someone’s origin story: their experiences and circumstances.

Experiences are the unique events that we encounter throughout our lives that shape how we see the world. Formative experiences are like plot developments in the origin story of our life, setting the stage for how we will interpret events and react in the future. Experiences can be adverse (abuse, poverty, illness, etc.), positive (relationships, accomplishments, etc.), or just neutral, but they all play a part in molding us. The way we were raised, friends we’ve had, jobs we’ve worked, our love life, our losses, and even major global events are all experiences that influence how we think and how we see the world.

Let’s do a thought experiment. Think about a major event that happened in your childhood. It doesn’t matter if you perceived it to be a “good” or “bad” experience. How did that event impact the way you saw the world? What did it motivate you to do? Now imagine that you have a clone, someone whose brain and identity are perfectly identical to yours. If you experienced that pivotal childhood event but your clone did not, what would be different about their perspective on the world? How much a difference would it make?

In that scenario, we’re noticing how one single event, or lack thereof, could impact two humans with the exact same brain, genetics, capabilities, etc. In real life, no two brains are identical though, so we have an even greater range of possibilities. If you had 10 different kids experience the exact same event at the exact same time in their development, each of their responses would still be completely unique. Their own unique identities and other experiences would heavily influence the way they perceived that same event.

Circumstances are similar but even more acutely relevant. They are the immediate contextual factors that impact how we think and feel right here, right now. These factors can be anything from getting a poor night's sleep to having a midlife crisis. Because circumstances are immediately relevant, they have a huge impact on our feelings, thoughts, and reactions.

When you start thinking about how Identity, Experiences, and Circumstances affect each person uniquely, it’s no wonder that we respond to the world in such drastically different ways. Our very perception of what’s going on is subject to the filter that we each carry around with us. In turn, as each of our experiences gets integrated into our worldview, they start to impact how we interpret new information moving forward.

The first half of the Empathy Equation is a person’s origin story. Their identity (who they are), their experiences (what they’ve been through), and their circumstances (what’s stressing them out right now) all set the stage for what they’re feeling, thinking, and doing now. A person’s experiences and circumstances will never be exactly the same as any other human’s. And when we recognize that no two identities are identical, it makes sense why similar experiences and circumstances would provoke vastly different responses from different people. 

The next time you encounter someone who is feeling or thinking something that doesn’t make sense to you, you need not assume that they are being irrational. Maybe it would be irrational for you, but you are not living in their body, with their memories, with their stressors. Conceptualizing a person’s unique origin story goes a long way toward helping us understand why they react the way to do to the world.