Two roads diverged in a yellow wood and I’d rather not make another decision about them. I wish we could take off and put on our minds like clothes, because some thoughts are seasonal and sometimes mental nakedness is liberating. Instead, we are often held hostage by our own consciousness, oscillating between two versions of the realities we believe in or want to create (or ones that have been created for us). When your inner voice is your commander in chief, how do you compete with that? I suppose obedience to that voice is measured by the magnitude of the consequences. Thus, we make decisions that cause us the least amount of detriment. But even then, our ability to assess detriment is a matter of reasoning with the mind. So, how can it be the arbiter of decision-making?
Sometimes the answer is rooted in how well you know yourself or the elements that make up your self-concept. When you are making a decision about something that is the antithesis of your identity, it is much easier to oppose all things contrarian. We do it all the time! If you are pro-life and someone is arguing with you about being pro-choice, your instinctive thought is to defend your position. You likely won’t engage in a mental seesaw on where you stand. We use the strong positions we hold about our values and beliefs to inform and navigate decisions regarding new information and experiences. For example, let’s consider the time I almost became a drug dealer (and probably the main reason you’re reading this article): During my second year at McMaster University, I wanted to ensure I took all the liberties of the quintessential post-secondary experience — to live the life I could forgive myself for later. That included all-nighters for no reason, partying, skipping a few classes, playing one or three drinking games, and talking myself into the possibility of selling drugs. At the time, it seemed like such a normal thing to do and, as someone who did not spend all of their OSAP balling out, I could have benefited from the additional stream of tax-free income. I went back and forth about it for four days without consulting anyone. Two roads diverged in a yellow wood and when Friday came and I was to buy into this venture, my friend at the time showed up at my door to collect my $100 “investment” only to find that I took the road less traveled. I couldn’t do it. I was never pressured, but me? A foot soldier? I couldn’t see myself there. It was too far off from who I knew myself to be. And if you know me, you know I am more Avon Barksdale or Stringer than I am Bird or Little Man. It was an easy enough decision to make because it was far too contrarian.
In other instances, the arbiter of decision-making is circumstantial and is at the mercy of your insecurities about who you are. Insecurities are hard because we don’t cause them, but we live in their consequences. We experience trauma and negative reinforcement (failure, rejection, loneliness, etc.) that materially contribute to the erosion of our self-concept. As a result, decisions that should be “easy” are transformed into negotiations that are really about which version of yourself is the most true or correct. The paradox is you are not actually negotiating with yourself — you have allowed the thoughts and experiences of others to masquerade as your inner voice. And that is where the real struggle begins. You aren’t fighting with yourself, you’re fighting how others perceive you and the power their perception can have on how you see yourself. What further complicates this experience is that we aren’t having these debates out loud. They are happening in our heads. How can we defend ourselves against someone or something pretending to be us? We are often unequipped and when that gets too overbearing, the proxy wins. If we’re lucky enough, we enlist help from someone who knows who we really are, but if we veer too far off the path, we lose ourselves, both mentally and physically.
I recently read a suicide note written by a Nigerian Influencer and I couldn’t get past this same betrayal of the mind. When addressing his seven-year battle with depression that anchored his plight, the influencer said, “the noise got too loud, but now the noise can stop.” Without trivializing his mental health, his statement is a testament to this war of consciousness and what happens when that inner voice, an impersonated one, is listened to enough times until we silence our own. I’m always asking myself how we get so far, but, like most things, it’s subtle and progressive. Insecurities are gateway drugs to mental destruction and if we are not careful, we get on the ride thinking it’s free, eventually mistaken, as the currency is our lives. I’ll indulge you in a very real habit that I have to work hard at resisting in order to ensure that I don’t end up on the fringes of mental warfare. When something is wrong, I play out both scenarios in my head: the one where I tell someone and the one where I don’t. In the scenario where I share the information, I am concerned that the recipient won’t understand, will judge, will be annoyed, will feel pressured to find solutions, or will reject me in some kind of way. In the scenario where I don’t communicate that something is bothering me, I isolate, I cry, I pour salt in my wounds, I convince myself no one cares anyway, I tell myself I should be strong because everyone has their own shit to deal with, and I just bank on feeling better tomorrow. Whether the issue is resolved is immaterial. In most cases, I fight my battles on my own. In both scenarios, there is no perceived positive outcome, but I’ve decided that I can handle beating on myself better than I can handle someone beating up on me, even if there is a 50 percent chance they won’t. The odds are not in my favour. And if we revisit the initial conversation about obeying an inner voice that has the least detriment, then clearly I’m choosing incorrectly by refusing to take my issue beyond myself.
According to Joiner’s interpersonal theory of suicide, there are two major interpersonal structures — perceived burdensomeness and thwarted belongingness — that are critical features that may lead to suicidal ideation and eventually to suicide. Every time I decide to fight things on my own out of fear of perceived burdensomeness and/or thwarted belonging, I am one step closer to the noise in my head becoming unbearable. That’s how easy we contribute to our own demise. That’s how it happens. We need a third party to join the negotiation that takes place in our minds.
Two roads diverged in a yellow wood: your thoughts and reality. One starts where the other ends. One is forgiving and the other is not. I’ve learned that many of my peers have experienced some version of suicide ideations, but I don’t want us to get that far. We have to start holding our conscious minds accountable, now. Research suggests,
“Communication difficulties comprise a major focus of our understanding of suicidal behavior.”
We have to start talking about how we are feeling and what we are experiencing. We know this and it’s not easy, but communication is the only way through and the conversation has to start with ourselves. One way we can do this is improving our emotional intelligence (EI). According to Merida-Lopez et al,
“EI may act as a protective factor against suicidal ideation and behaviors because it helps you to sort through your feelings, compartmentalizing what is real and what is not.”
In other words, it is a great mediator for your true voice and the impersonated inner voice. You have to choose to actively fight that voice on even the smallest things, like experiencing joy, validating yourself, and being honest about your insecurities and deciding that they won’t control you. In addition to communicating with yourself, you have to do a better job at communicating with others. And of course, that is imbrued with its own challenges because when your friend says, “you can talk to me about anything, I’m always here” often times what they’re really saying is they want you to express yourself, but only to the extent that they can handle what you’re saying, regulate your expressions, and judge you accordingly. Notwithstanding the right a person has to how much of your “burden” they want to bear, it’s better not to offer at all if being a listening ear is accompanied by disclaimers. What we need is more people who are truly open-minded. We need more people who, when they say “you can talk to me about anything”, it’s more than an expression or a pseudo performance of friendship. We have to be more selective with whom we confide, and where our friendships fall short; we have to rely on people with the professional bandwidth to help us, early in the process. We need more people who are willing to hear it all. And we create more of those people when we choose to become them. That’s the choice!
A week before my neighbor committed suicide last summer, I stood in the elevator with him. He said hello and asked me how my day was. I wonder what wars were going on in his head? I wonder how they started? Who threw the first blow, and how did I win his smile while he plotted to lose his life?
