Feelings Are Not Facts

Feelings are not facts.

I have always had an obsession with “staying true to myself” (a fixation inevitably misguided through that tumultuous identity crisis phase of life called adolescence). To bolster that very egocentric obsession I made it my goal to identify each and every one of my current feelings. Sometimes a simple mental identification was not enough to satiate the irksome “who am I?” question scratching at my conscience, so I would try to preserve my emotional experience through art. As a young girl this meant poetry and diary entries. This meant falling prone to the vice of greed and using written word to further intensify feelings that, through hindsight and therapy, turned out to be not as idiosyncratic as I had liked to believe. This also meant wallowing in certain songs, scribbling lyrics out on lacerated notebook pages in class, impulsively imagining them tattooed one day. This meant drawing and painting and photographing anything and everything that felt like an expression of how I currently felt. Identifying feelings might be healthy in moderate doses, but being somebody with obsessive compulsive disorder I tend to gravitate towards all-or-nothing thinking. Moderation does not come easily. So, to no surprise, I overdid it when it came to treating feelings like end-all-be-all factual information.

Feelings can sometimes be factual, but this is certainly not always the case. In my experience I have found two major contradictions which highlight the underlying truth that feelings are not the same thing as facts.

First, feelings are transient. Feelings come and go just as our circumstances come and go. Any and every emotional state is fleeting, and to treat a mood such as outrage or excitement like a veridical truth that can substitute as an all-encompassing proverb would do a disservice to anybody undergoing either a positive or negative mood.
For example, if I am depressed about a literary rejection, feeling discouraged and dry on hope, I have every right to feel that way- but to mistake that feeling with a fact like “I am unworthy of publication” could lead to an unfair condemnation of “I do not deserve to live my dream as a published author” and end with “I have no rational choice but to give up on my dream.” Another, more relatable example is how, in our self-consciousness, we sometimes “guess” others’ opinions of us. If you have a bad hair day and feel insecure, you might distribute that feeling of insecurity outwards and let it pollute your perception of the world. One moment of eye contact with a peer in the hallway and you assume that they think you are ugly or unattractive. Just because you feel a certain way inside, does not mean you can mindread other people and say, for a fact, what an individual might think of you. This way of thinking could easily lead to many missed opportunities, unfair judgments, and unnecessary travesties.

The second contradiction in equating feelings to facts derives from the very human quality that you are capable of feeling more than one emotion at once, including ones that are polar opposite to each other.
We have more than one situation going for us in our every day lives, some bad, some good. For a long time I would undergo a sort of existential confusion when relaying information about my moods to therapists. For instance, I could not understand why I felt very confident and optimistic about the future while also feeling frustrated and sad about certain problem areas in my life. It took a simple “a-ha” moment of realizing that feelings are not facts to accept that there is nothing fundamentally wrong with me for feeling more than one contradictory emotion at once. It is possible to feel enthusiastic about a promotion and also deeply hurt about a strained relationship. It is possible to love and care about your well-being while still feeling shame over your imperfections. It is possible to be in a very grateful mood for all the laughs and joys of life while experiencing simultaneous bitterness around the shortcomings in your life. Humans are sentient beings capable of feeling more than one emotion at a time. That is a fact.

stitch myself up

To clarify, I am not saying that I no longer acknowledge or draw inspiration from my emotions- what I am saying is that I am no longer going to be a slave to my emotions and the muses that spawn from them. I will always love expressing myself artistically, and I will always tune into my emotions to be the aesthete I thrive in being- but I will be damned if I let a creative drive knock me down a peg in all of my social and spiritual growth. It has taken me a decade of mental health struggles to realize that wallowing in melancholy and solitude (at the expense of my youth and my relationships) is not the right path to go down. I say this as somebody who struggles with extremist tendencies- staying “true to yourself” does not mean focus all your energy into present emotions. Moderate that energy into feelings, thoughts, and instincts. I know we hear it all the time between culture to culture, but life really is better with balance.

So by all means feel, emote, and if you so desire then preserve a feeling in artwork, but give yourself the compassion you deserve and recognize when you are inflicting more harm than good by dwelling on past pains or nostalgia.

Feelings are not facts. That, is a fact.

– Valerie Parente (3-9-17)

The Silver Screen

Bloom

The Silver Screen by Valerie Parente

My daydreams bloom from whatever prominent emotion I am feeling.

My daydreams seem to subconsciously and intuitively unravel themselves into ideal scenarios.
Like a movie the daydreams play out in a succession of mental frames on a cortical film reel. At best the mental fabrication distributes its duty between the two-track mind and I maintain my presence; above the absolute threshold I am in the audience and below the absolute threshold I am in the director’s chair. The dialogues between imaginary friends on the silver screen happen so instantaneously that the script’s origin teeters on the line between voluntary and involuntary awareness.

My daydreams are finalized by obsessive and repetitive hindsight.
When mentally reviewed these fantastic mental purges reveal subliminal truths. The loose reigns of control over the internal screenplays, regularly referred to as “imagination”, masquerade as intrusive images too appropriate and too satisfying to be resented.

– Valerie Parente (2-18-17)

(Over)Reactions

In the past few months I have come to an overwhelming amount of personal revelations regarding my ego self and the mechanisms of my personality. Most of these revelations have been very idiosyncratic to my own circumstances, invoking a potpourri of diary entries rather than blog posts. Though, there is one recent awe-inducing epiphany which I believe could be beneficial to share. This epiphany revolves around the simple notion that if I want to understand my feelings and reactions to certain situations then I must ask myself the ironically simple but omnipotent question – why? Why do I feel this way? Why am I reacting this way?

To arrive to the answer of this very straightforward inquisition I had to respond with complete honesty regardless of whether or not the response would stir up anxiety, discomfort, or any other unpleasant emotions.

just-a-little-sensitive

Without going into too much detail I will use a recent example in which I was addressed by an older woman at the supermarket. She had followed me inside the store to tell me that I should not leave my dog in the car when I am running an errand, regardless of how quick I am running in and out the store, regardless if I felt that it was “not that hot outside”, regardless that I left the windows cracked open. Long story short I said a polite “okay, I understand” and returned to my car with (temporary) composure. Although my public reaction was congenial to the woman, this was absolutely not my unfiltered reaction once I relayed what happened to my friends and family both on the phone and in person. To be blunt- I was pissed off. I was livid. I was swearing up a storm and shouting about how infuriating it was that this woman was “telling me what to do”. In retrospect, it was a complete overreaction. But, at the time, I saw my rage as perfectly reasonable, and I was obsessively ranting about the incident to those close to me. (And, of course, every time I explained what happened I, almost mechanically, would infuse a whole lot of defensive content about how my dog was perfectly fine and safe).
Eventually when I told this story to a very important person in my life, a person whom I am consistently honest with no matter how unpleasant my honesty may be, she asked me the simple question… Why? Why is my reaction so intense? Why am I getting so worked up? So angry? So defensive?
Right on the spot, without any internal deliberation, I spit out my unhinged answer, “Because! Because I love my dog and I would never want to hurt my dog and… and…” in what I can only describe as a flash of pure enlightenment I knew exactly why I was so intensely bothered by this interaction, and my furrowed expression rapidly crumbled into tears, “And my cat just died!”
Everything made sense. Everything made sense in a way that, now, looking back, I can’t believe I didn’t see before.
You see, I have been deeply grieving the loss of my cat, a feline family member whose role in my life I can’t adequately describe in this one sentence. So far it has been one full month of heart wrenching crying and laughing while honoring the life of my cat through conversation and shared memories.
As the tears rolled down my face I understood why being addressed about my dog had been so intense for me. I was overly upset because the extremely touchy subject of one of my pets had been presented, so my grieving mind and recovering heart translated this woman’s well-intended words into harsh criticism about how well I take care of my pets.
If there is a primary lesson I can relay from this personal revelation it is this- when you think you are “mad at a person” or having a reaction to another person’s words or actions, you are not feeling an emotion at another person
but a discomfort within yourself that has been stirred. Other people do not make you feel. You make you feel.

– Valerie Parente (9-23-16)