We watched Inside Out for our family movie night last week. Since then, my husband and I have had a lot to think about. He relates to Joy.
“I’m like Joy. I draw a circle and tell Sadness to stay inside it….” -Him
Me? I relate to Sadness, then Anger, then Fear. Sadness runs my little control panel, and tells Joy to keep it contained. We wouldn’t want things to get too happy, you know?
“Crying helps me slow down and obsess over the weight of life’s problems.” -Sadness
I know it sounds depressing. You don’t really need to tell a depressing person that she’s depressing. The funny thing is that, when other people express similar sentiments, I put on a little mask and cheerleader demeanor (though not ever the outfit). “I’m sure that problem would be helped by _________” I say. “You’re not worthless,” I add. “Every human being has worth and I have seen you do amazing things.”
Inside, however, my coagulation of Sadangryscared says rotten things.
“There is no point to life and no one really likes you.” -Me
I’ve expressed the feeling that others are driving, that life is ho-hum, that I don’t know what to do and that I feel badly for feeling this way on top of it all. At rarer times; I have been a little happier and explained how to move on, get over oneself, and improve.
The problem is Depression and its insidious friend, Despair. When both of those are too lazy to try very hard, they kick Apathy over to sit on me. I can’t care about much with her sitting there.
See? She can’t even be bothered to construct a sentence, let alone give me the idea that I ought to try to try.
Why are things that way? Why can’t I try a little joy? It’s because when Joy is loose inside my mind, she’s a tad crazy. We’re talking toga party crazy. We’re talking repressed emotion crazy. She bounces off walls, says embarrassing things, and doesn’t really know how to respond to others’ comments. As Fear slowly gets a good grip on her arm to put her back over in her circle, she turns into Anxiety.
“Oh, no. What did I say? I should never have allowed myself to feel happy.” -Me again, or Joy as Anxiety
Like in the film, I believe my emotions need to get along better if I hope for more stability. My mind islands need a fusion; a cohesive Pangaea where all may play and get along.
After all, Riley’s mother’s dominant emotion is Sadness. She and the other eyeglass-wearing, ponytail-toting gals get along fine and don’t seem to be collapsing in crying heaps all over the place. I can aim for that, can’t I?
Until then, here’s a final message from Sadness:
“I’m too sad to walk. Just give me a few …hours.”