There's a lot of talk in the world today about how to be happy. I've seen self-help books, blogs, Instagram posts, TedTalks, and even college classes aimed at figuring out the key to happiness. Happiness is great, of course, and we all (hopefully) want to be happy. But it often feels like happiness comes at the expense of sadness, anger, disappointment, fear, or any other 'negative' emotion. I hesitate to say 'negative' because that label makes these feelings seem bad. I spent most of my life believing that they were bad, which kind of seems obvious, but I've started thinking lately that maybe that's not the case. Maybe sadness itself isn't the problem, but the fact that I don't know how to be sad.
In my experience, I think most people try to push negative emotions away or judge themselves for feeling that way. I am certainly guilty of this. For one thing, it's not particularly enjoyable to be sad or irritated or anxious. Also, it seems like society often preaches that we shouldn't feel these things.
I'm Catholic, but I was mostly a Christmas-and-Easter kind of Catholic until I started college. One of my New Year's Resolutions this year was to listen to a Bible In A Year podcast, but so far, I've found it a little discouraging (side note: I'm in no way trying to push my religious beliefs, I'm just using this as an example). I've never read the entire Bible before, and my perception of a lot of the readings so far is that being sad or angry is somehow sinful. It's like, how dare you be upset about something when you have so many blessings? Which, of course, makes sense. As a very privileged person, this is what I tell myself all the time when I'm upset. Whether you're religious or not, I'm sure you've experienced some sort of similar pressure in your life.
Ever since I was in elementary school, people told me that I should be grateful for the good things in my life instead of being disappointed or upset about the bad. I agree with this completely until we get to the "instead of" part. Why shouldn't I be upset about the bad things? Gratitude and disappointment don't need to be mutually-exclusive feelings, but I think they're so often perceived that way. I remember in second grade, a speaker came to my school to talk about surviving an earthquake and having an arm amputated. After, my teacher explained to the class how whenever we're upset about little things in our lives, we should be grateful that we still have both of our arms. In sixth grade, I was very disappointed after not getting cast in a show I was really excited about, and a family member told me they just watched a news story about a mom who died suddenly, so I should be glad that my mom is still alive. This has sort of become a common theme in my life: whenever I'm feeling bad about something, I tell myself I shouldn't feel that way because I have so much to be grateful for.
This past week, I've been really upset about something I don't think I should be upset about. Last semester, I was an RA (Resident Assistant) in one of the residential colleges at USC. I had to resign this semester during my leave of absence, and that was one of the main reasons I didn't want to leave. I applied to be an RA again next year, but I was rejected last week. I loved being an RA, and I knew I really wanted to do it again, but I certainly didn't expect to be so upset if I didn't get the job. It is just a job; it shouldn't be that big of a deal. But for some reason, I can't stop thinking about it. To be completely honest, I'm kind of devastated about it, and I really don't know why. I feel a little stupid even saying that because it seems like such a silly thing to be so hung up on. No one died, I didn't get fired, I didn't get some sort of terrible disease; this wasn't anything life-altering, so I need to get over it. Why can't I just be grateful that I get to go to USC, that I got to be an RA this year, or even that I'm still going to live somewhere with a roof over my head while there are hundreds of unhoused people within miles of campus?
Unfortunately, no matter how much I try to reason away the sadness, it won't go away. Yes, I am grateful that I simply lost a job instead of losing a limb, but that doesn't actually make me feel better. It doesn't take away the disappointment that I really wanted this job. I can look at it and think, "everything happens for a reason," but that doesn't mean it isn't difficult right now to see things that way. In the big picture of my life, this is a very minor disappointment. As I said, it's just a job, and if there's one thing I'm good at, it's being rejected (I am an actor and not that great at it, so I'm pretty much a professional at getting rejected).
I think perhaps the reason I can't move on is that I don't know how to be sad about it. Since the moment I read the rejection letter, I've challenged every sad thought with something along the lines of "it could be a lot worse," "there's nothing to be upset about," or "get over yourself." When I've told people about it, they've said things like "at least blah blah blah" or "it probably had nothing to do with you and was just because blah blah blah." I know they're trying to make me feel better, and no one has said anything that I haven't already said to myself, but it hasn't worked. I usually respond with "it's okay, it's not a big deal," or "I wasn't really expecting to get it anyway." I'm sure that you also probably do this, and if you don't, please share your secrets.
The truth is, it's not okay. It sucks, and I'm really disappointed, and I think I deserved to get the job. There, I said it. I'm always afraid to say I think I deserve something, especially something I didn't get. It sounds cocky and self-aggrandizing; if I didn't get the job/role/grade/award I think I deserved, I must not have deserved it, or at least not as much as someone else did. That is probably the case. It is probably the case that not getting this job is not that big of a deal and there are a lot worse things that I could be upset about. But, like I said, that doesn't change the fact that this is still the way that I feel. Both of these things can be true: I can be grateful that I have the luxury of being upset over such a frivolous matter while still being upset about it. If I had just taken an hour to just feel upset about it when I first found out instead of trying to convince myself that I shouldn't be upset, I probably would not still be dwelling on it.
I am certain nearly everyone is guilty of trying to ward off negative emotions. Maybe it's just because they're uncomfortable, but I'm guessing it's deeper than that for most people. Whether we mean to or not, all of us have probably at some point diminished someone else's pain by telling them it could be worse or there's nothing to be upset about. How many times do children hear "stop crying" or "don't be angry"? How often do we tell ourselves "don't be nervous" or "get over it"? In religious and spiritual practices, it seems like we often try to get rid of any sense of unhappiness or conflict. Why can't we just allow ourselves and others to feel these negative emotions? I don't really have an answer to that question, but I am trying to reframe the way I think about so-called "negative" feelings.
I'm not sure when sadness became a negative thing. Maybe it always was; it certainly has been for the 19 years I've been around. I have to imagine, though, that there must be a good reason we have the ability to experience sadness. Fear came in handy in the olden days; that's how people knew to run away from lions instead of petting them. Physical pain can tell you if you cut your foot off so you can do something about it before you bleed to death. If there wasn't a purpose to sadness, would it still exist?
My theory, which is probably not that profound or revolutionary (but bear with me because I am going somewhere with this), is that we need the ability to feel sad in order to be happy. Think about it: how would you even know what happiness was if you'd never been unhappy? We're taught to believe that disappointment or anger signifies the absence of gratitude or love, but really, I think it reveals the presence of it.
Last year, when I first applied to be an RA, I wasn't quite sure whether I wanted the job, and I don't think it would have bothered me that much if I didn't get it. It hit me a lot harder this year because I enjoyed it so much, and that has allowed me to recognize how grateful I am for the opportunity I had to be an RA. I get insanely nervous about a lot of things, such as interviewing people for our podcast, going on an audition, teaching classes at Stagebugz, or meeting other students at school, but I only get nervous when it's something I care about. When I am angry about losing something or someone, it's not because I'm an evil, angry person, it's because I love and miss whatever or whomever it was. My anger stems from gratitude that I had that thing or person in my life.
All of this is to say that I think it's important to stop labeling certain emotions as negative. Sadness, grief, anger, fear, and nerves are all inevitable results of love, passion, and gratitude, and our lives might be much richer if we acknowledge that. Instead of trying to reason these feelings away or berating ourselves and others for having them, what if we just allowed these emotions to exist? I doubt phrases like "don't be sad," or "there's nothing to be nervous about" have ever actually made anyone feel better. Sadness isn't going to go away as long as we continue to love and care about things, so maybe we just need to learn how to be sad.
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