Emotions

It's been a while since I've done any writing, and I wish I could say it was because I've been really busy, but that's only partially true. I last wrote when I left Oxford, and a ton has happened since then. I've been thinking a lot about my time between Oxford and New York and how I approached it and how I processed it. It's a shame to come back to the topic of emotion that I wrote about a few months ago, but I feel the need to examine it again after how I handled this fall.

When I left Oxford, I was excited to be heading back to the States. The anticipation of something new, despite not knowing exactly what that new thing would be, was enough to have me in high spirits. I went to Chicago and then back to St. Louis, and I was really happy to see friends and family.

Things stuck that way for a week or two. I was eagerly sending away job applications and catching up with people who are close to me, and I was hopeful for the future. As time went on though, several things changed. One, the weather started to change, and seasonal affective stuff really has affected me in the past. In Oxford, I definitely felt less of it because it was a new, exciting environment, and I was constantly being social and keeping busy. At home, I was spending the majority of my days at home sending a few job applications then being bored for the rest of the day. I did okay with this for a while, but as time went on, my hopeful demeanor towards being home started to fade. I was getting lots of denials from jobs or just not hearing back, and I was spending a lot of time alone. By the time I got the New York job, I was absolutely miserable. I was depressed in a way I hadn't been in years, and I felt very dark and lonely. I didn't feel like any of my friendships were in good places (which wasn't necessarily true, you just convince yourself of these things), and I didn't feel worthy of any of the jobs I was applying for. I started to take it out on my mom, and I started to feel resentment towards my friends. At a time when I should've been looking to those important people for support, my defense mechanisms were telling me to grit my teeth and be strong, to handle it on my own and try to put on a happy face. This led me to a bit of a revelation, something I probably knew inherently but had never really acknowledged in full:

I really struggle with communicating my emotions.

I think it’s hard for everyone, and I think often it’s very hard for men in particular. I think despite our best efforts as a society to be aware, we continually ask men to be emotionally dull for the sake of masculinity. Whether it’s making jokes when we see a man crying or the tired tropes of “toughen up, grit your teeth and get through it,” I find that there’s often mixed messages for how men are supposed to handle their emotions, and that can be really hard to navigate.

I’ve been trying to express my emotions more eloquently and to bottle them up less. When I was home, I argued with my mom a lot, generally for no reason. I found small steps of simply trying to communicate what was on my mind would stop me from getting worked up enough to have an argument. I find with friends, communicating problems I’m having can really help me work through them. I remember in the last few months saying to a friend that I was really struggling, and their acknowledgment alone at my voicing it made a marked improvement. The sayings about not bottling up do seem to hold true.

Expressing emotions still does get mixed bag reactions though. I had a friend basically invalidate my feelings recently when I brought up a dilemma by saying, “well, you’re a white man, so you’ll be fine.” While I feel I have a pretty good grasp on privilege, I was really hurt by what was said. Ironically, I haven’t communicated that to them. It’s a struggle to want to put my emotions forth out of fear for how they’ll be received, and I think that’s a struggle for a lot of men. Will I be viewed as less of a man? Will I seem not strong? Sometimes real thoughts, but often just so engrained in us that it’s a subconscious process that keeps me from wanting to speak up about my feelings.

This isn’t to say that emotions aren’t hard for women, too. They most certainly are. I think dealing with emotional expectations and the constraints of stereotypes are equally hard for women, if not worse. Women are expected the carry the emotional weight of everything; men are expected to be unfeeling potatoes that watch football on Sundays and grunt responses like a tired bear. A woman not crying at a funeral is remarkable to some in the same way a man crying would be notable to them. There’s these crazy stereotypes, often gender based but in other facets as well, that emotions belong to certain people and not all. Women have to deal with men saying they're crazy if they're too emotional, and that they're not feminine if they're not emotional enough. I imagine that's a tough tight rope to walk.

My point is, while gender isn't the sole determinant of emotional skill by any means, I do think growing up and identifying as male tends to lead to stunted emotional growth in a lot of men. I feel a lot of feelings, people! I shouldn't want to hide those. Every movie I've ever teared up in has been a rush to avoid anyone seeing, and come on, are you even human if you don't cry during Coco? When I hold in feelings of any kind, I find myself getting angry more easily, being annoyed by little nothings, and sort of just being a grouch.

As I came to the end of my time of unemployment, things really came to a head. I had very promising job prospects in Chicago, St. Louis, and New York, and I had no confidence that any would work out, despite what I was saying when people asked. I didn't feel welcome with friends in Chicago for varying reasons, and I wanted so badly to get out of St. Louis, back to New York, and away from what I was feeling. New York was my top option from the beginning, but I really started to worry where my headspace would be if I didn't get the job. I was exhausted, and I really had no reason to be. I hadn't been unemployed all that long, and I hadn't been working all that hard in the mean time. I was just exhausted from my own stubbornness. I wasn't talking with anyone about what I was feeling. I know depression is something I'll always deal with to varying degrees, but I also know that this particular episode was very self-inflicted.

When I got the job in New York, things certainly weren't better overnight, but I had the stimulation of getting ready for something new, and I recharged with a trip to England and Italy for my graduation ceremony. I came out realizing that talking to friends in Oxford about my experience at home was what was helpful. I felt better because I communicated what was on my mind. The job wasn't the catalyst for feeling better at all.

So, as we approach the new year, I don't have any crazy resolutions besides needing to get back in the gym in my new home. Honestly, I just want to try to improve my emotional intelligence. I always thought I was in touch with my feelings and pretty aware of what was going on in my head, but the last few months were a real wakeup call. I need to be more willing to communicate, to be vulnerable, and to ask for help when I need it. In a lot of ways, I've known in various ways that we hold the keys to our own happiness. I've lived my life knowing that for the last few years, trying to make the most of my time with travel and exciting times, and I've been really fortunate. That said, helping yourself be happy is easy when life is exciting. It was in the difficult moments of the past few months that I realized it's not always that easy.

So, to add a PSA to the end of this, let your friends know if you're struggling. That's why they're your friends. On the other side, I am really grateful to the friends who saw I wasn't at 100% and asked and cared. So, if you're in a good place, see if your friends are too. It can't hurt to ask. As always, thanks for reading, and thanks for being a part of my continued happiness. You all are!

-Ryan