There really might be different types of people. Or at least people in different phases of their development.
A friend posted a meme on Facebook that said:
'People don't want to be talked out of their feelings. People want to be heard, seen, felt, and understood.'
The friend is someone I respect greatly; the quotation is apparently from an Australian psychologist (no offence to Australia or psychology).
What feelings might this be discussing? I played some Haydn yesterday, and I had a range of feelings as I was playing it. I don't think that's what we're talking about, here. When I was waiting for the morning meeting to start, I was in a yoga position, and I felt very comfortable and peaceful. I don't think that's what we're talking about either. I think we're talking about negative feelings.
I have a tiny tendency to be a little bit neurotic. Just occasionally. And when I do, it destroys my ability to be present. I recently had a phase of anxiety about ... Actually, it doesn't matter what it's about. That's not the point. (It's now gone completely.) Anyway, I discovered that the anxiety was a constantly distracting barking dog. It was like a car alarm that stops me from hearing what others are saying, that stops me from hearing the birds singing, that stops me from listening to feelings generated by listening to Palestrina. It was horrible.
I talked to my other half about this anxiety. I obviously wanted my other half to understand I was saying, but that's a trivial observation. Situations are rare in which a person speaks and does not want to be understood. So, that bit's clear. But what does it mean to be 'heard, seen, felt'. Obviously this is not meant literally: I was not frightened that he literally could not hear or see me. I'm not 100% sure what is meant by the metaphor of someone 'feeling me'. Perhaps this means 'acknowledging that he felt the same or had felt the same'. I suspect—although I might be wrong—that what is meant by this writer about being heard, seen, and felt is this:
'I want the other person to say my feelings are valid.'
Now, feelings are not susceptible to validity, any more than sunshine, rain, earthquakes, irritable bowel syndrome, or fainting are valid or invalid. They're phenomena.
When I say I want my feelings to be validated (and I've invariably found this to be the case in other people), what I'm really after is this:
'I want the other person to agree with my perception and interpretation of what is going. I want the other person to agree in particular with my negative assessment and to support the narratives producing the upset, anger, fear, judgement, condemnation, jealousy, etc.'
It's not the feelings that I really want validated. It's the perspective of my ego. What does that perspective reinforce? The idea that I am separate. That I am over here; that you are over there; that you have done wrong; that I am innocent; that my suffering is not my fault.
Before AA, during my drinking, in early AA, and in patches around 8 years and 17 years, I was very depressed. I certainly experienced the desire, as expressed above, to be understood and validated. I sought this understanding and validation constantly. Often I did not get it. People tried to talk me out of it. Others did 'get' it. But others 'getting it' did not help me. In fact, others 'getting it', 'hearing me, seeing me, feeling me, and understanding me' was deadly. It deepened the problem, because it reinforced the insane, illusory ego system of construing death, destruction, pointlessness, and anguish in every atom of the world and my being.
This did not help.
You know what has helped me the most in my life?
A couple of things.
Firstly, people who, momentarily, identify, then say: Hey, how is that working out for you? Are you done yet? Do you want a way out? Do you want a solution? Are you willing to take action? And who then drop the rope down the well for me to grab and climb up.
Secondly, people who are utterly uncomprehending and dismissive of the perceptions underlying the negative emotions. Jonathan is invariably compassionate about my negative feelings in response to situations but has never once countersigned the beliefs, thinking, and behaviour that underlie them.
Right from the beginning, from the first professional I was placed in front of, at the age of 15, to today, I have always wanted to be talked out of my suffering. I just don't understand people that don't. Hence my proposal that there really might be different types of people. Maybe what people report as suffering is not really suffering as I understand it. I would literally writhe in emotional agony. My experience has been the reverse of what is quoted above: I have spent my life looking for solutions, implementing solutions, and being so incredibly grateful and glad about having found solutions that work in an abiding way that I spend a good chunk of my life trying to help others who also want solutions.
There is one point of identification, however: before recovery, and sometimes even in recovery, although I sought help, when the help was provided, in terms of offering a way not to suffer, a different way of looking at things, I resisted. I discovered that I wanted my feelings to change but I did not want my beliefs, my values, my attitudes, my thinking, my perceptions, my interpretations, my assessments, my analyses, my judgements to change. I wanted them to stay exactly the way they were; I just wanted the feelings to change. I also did not want to change how I lived. Why? Because my identity was tied up in all of these things. If these went, so did I. I would cease to exist forever, and, then, what would the point be? So I resisted.
I would contend, therefore, that the above meme is reflective not of people in general but maybe of people at a particular phase of their development, namely the phase I was in before recovery and occasionally dipped into during recovery: I was still getting an unhealthy kick out of my narratives, because, hey, look at me, I'm the hero of my dream! Although the pain was excruciating, it was delicious, because it was MINE. I would respond to anyone trying to take it away like a child hugging a teddy bear full of razor blades. Squeeze it and bleed. Anyone who didn't reinforce my position (whilst giving me comfort to ease the torture) was lacking in understanding, compassion, and humanity. Ever seen an animal snarl and snap at someone who tries to remove a lodged fragment in a wound? That's what we were dealing with here.
Once ending the suffering became more important than maintaining my image of myself and my relation to the world, the game changed. I just wanted a way out, and I was willing to go to any lengths to get it. I remember a patch around 17 years where I was in a particularly distressing situation, which I was contributing to significantly through my plans, schemes, designs, and profound attachment to certain outcomes. I found oldtimer no. 1 who validated my feelings and my experiences for three months. I got worse. I finally told oldtimer no. 2 (my sponsor), who gave me the biggest spiritual slap of my life. The sky turned black. I adopted his view, did exactly what he suggested, and felt physically sick. I started crying and cried every day for three months. But the moment I surrendered I knew the game was up and the surgery was underway. I knew the old life was going to fade and a new life would be given me. This is indeed what happened. Taking Steps Four through Nine on the situation satisfactorily uncovered, discovered, and discarded the faulty beliefs, thinking, and behaviour, and I have not looked back. The situation has not recurred. I cannot tell you how many people I have shared my experience of this particular situation with, and I have seen so many people escape the same pit.
Wanting understanding was phase I of the sickness. When the sickness got bad enough, I wanted a solution. That was phase II.
Here's the kicker: so many people seem to remain in phase I in perpetuity. I've known many people in recovery that dig their heels in, in phase I, and do so for so long that they drink, use, and sometimes die. Unfortunately, there is a lot of support in the world for phase I (see the meme above!), which gives phase I the institutional seal of approval.
Sister Bea M said, 'My head would kill me if it did not need me for transportation.'
The truth is worse: My head will kill me even though it needs me for transportation.
* * * * *
There is one exception to the foregoing. In phase II, the pain can feel more immediate. It's no longer masked by ego bluster, serpentine argument, and rhetoric. It's just pain. Sometimes, I do need to say to people, 'I'm feeling X'. But it takes a few seconds, and it's gone. It's not the opening gambit in a game of discursive chess. My other half (who is very healthy emotionally, in my view) will, in particular, express feelings of grief and sadness at loss. These are not ego manifestations. They're corollaries of love, and they are without ego cloaks. The feeling is expressed. The conversation is brief. There is no discussion or analysis. There are barely any words. I think this is healthy and absolutely part of the healing process. But this is a quite different manifestation than the 'It's Not About The Nail' scenario described above.