Bottles and wells

[mrissa]

Every once in awhile I make a post about communication with Minnesotans, because I know how frustrating we can be to well-meaning outsiders. I've been thinking about it after seeing a couple of friends from the south (the real south this time, not my usual value of south, which is Iowa, or Albert Lea, or on a really bad day Farmington) expressing frustrations up here. And I wanted to try to get something across:

When you are an introverted person from a subculture that encourages introverts, the low-energy state is not talking to other people about your feelings. That is the default -- not just as culturally imposed but as internally experienced. That is what you can do when you can't manage to do anything else. Extroverted people from cultures that encourage extroverts will often encourage us not to "keep it all bottled up," to "let our feelings out." So will extroverts who were raised in an introvert culture and have found other options. This is using the wrong metaphor. For a naturally extroverted person whose subculture has encouraged them to be an extrovert -- say, for an extroverted woman from the south -- it takes energy not to go, "Aaaaagh, this is driving me crazy, I am so frustrated, here are the things bothering me right now, aaaaagh!"

But that's not what's going on when you have an introvert from an introverted culture. If you treat us like we are really like you deep down and are inexplicably forcing ourselves not to be for weird cultural reasons, you will become confused, and your feelings will probably be hurt. "I thought we were really good friends," you will say to yourself. "Why didn't she know she could come cry on my shoulder? Why didn't she feel she could tell me how she's feeling about these things that were bothering her about her life right now? They're big things! They're upsetting things! Why would she bottle it up like that?"

Sometimes the answer is that you are really good friends, and she does know she can come cry on your shoulder, but she just didn't feel like doing that. Sometimes it's that she didn't feel like she had enough energy to do that. And that because you are such good friends she figured you would understand, once you knew the basic facts themselves, how she must be feeling. When someone's -- oh, gosh, I'm having trouble coming up with an example that's obviously close and yet not true of anyone specific on the friendslist at the moment -- anyway, when someone close to you dies, the other people close to you know that you are sad and upset. Or when there is a bad medical problem. Or a big relationship problem, or a big job problem. Or etc. Telling you about her feelings takes more energy than not telling you, and that may not be energy she has at that time.

This is all sounding like the Minnesotan way of saying, "Hey, I'm really not doing well," and I have to say that the last week has not gone well where the vertigo is concerned. Things have not been good. I have, for example, discovered that among mothers' least-favorite sentences over the phone is, "It really hardly counts as a burn; it's barely even there today." my habit of focusing on the good news is apparently not as reassuring as I'd hoped: "Neither the picture nor the vacuum cleaner was broken," in bright and cheerful tones, does not turn out to result in people going, "Oh, good! Glad to hear it! How nice for you then!" Sentences like, "Oh, I meant to tell you: both the gibbon and my uncle survived!" seem to strike me as more appropriate for leading into stories than they do other people. (People who have not conversed with me live and in person: be forewarned. I do this all the time.)

But mostly I've been thinking about this for other people, as a general idea. Not universally true of all introverts or all Minnesotans or at all times. Just -- something to consider. That when an introvert from an introvert-encouraging culture or subculture takes the time to talk about feelings with you, it may be because they are making an effort for your sake, because they know it's important to you, and not because letting it all out is what they really truly need. You may be letting it all out of the pressurized bottle. They are pulling it up from a well, bucket by bucket. And sometimes it's okay to sit down with them next to the well and just let them rest, put your hand on their shoulder and point out a funny-shaped cloud if you see one.

Comments

[matociquala.livejournal.com]

And the winch is broken.

*loff*

S'okay. Some of us are happy just to breathe at you.

[mrissa.livejournal.com]

But that was in another country, and besides, the winch is broken. Yah.

It's a companionable sort of breathing.

[matociquala.livejournal.com]

Very companionable.

Want some tea?

[mrissa.livejournal.com]

I've got oatmeal raisin cookies left.

[aedifica]

All this is good to read. Most of it I know intellectually, but haven't really internalized (despite the fact that over the last few years I've been becoming somewhat more introverted). But there have been at least one or two times, particularly early in college, that I met an introvert and really liked him or her and would have liked to become friends, but we spoke such different languages (metaphorically) that it just didn't happen.

[mrissa.livejournal.com]

I think that putting words on how we do things sometimes helps in negotiating what we can expect of each other, what we can do differently, what not to take wrong.

One of the problems I have is that I present gregariously to the outside world, and that can very easily be mistaken for extroversion by people who don't know the difference -- or even people who do know the difference but haven't spotted the signs that in another 20 minutes I am going to go collapse from all these monkeys.

[mechaieh.livejournal.com]

Yep.

I don't think I ever come across as gregarious, but people have been known to read "functionally social" as "ready to keep on for hours" rather than "I'm resorting to every conversational strategy I know to remain engaged at an acceptable level until my extroverted spouse finally catches my signal that I need to go home NOW."

Granted, it's hard to fault them for misreading me when I'm doing my best to be discreet. I like to think I only get really cranky when someone isn't allowing me to escape quickly and graciously, and even then there's often some sort of alcohol-based elevation of insecurity involved. Oh, how I've come to hate the question, "But aren't you having fun?"

There are times I wish there were Betan-style earrings for thresholds of interactivity.

[dd-b.livejournal.com]

Can't we work pitchers and wells in here somehow, too?

Yeah, the key point to learn is that some people *spend* energy on being social, and especially on talking about emotional things. It doesn't *take* energy to keep quiet, it *saves* energy. (Isn't there some stereotype going around that most men are like this? I mean, it may not be *true*, but it ought to be a *familiar* concept!)

[snurri.livejournal.com]

Yeah, what you said.

Also, there is: "Don’t speak unless you can improve the silence."

[sam-t.livejournal.com]

*Smiles lopsidedly, sits down*

Not sure if that translated. A lot of this sort of thing seems to be done by tone of voice and body language and pauses in conversation. Thanks for articulating it, anyway.

[pameladean]

Yes yes yes. I was not raised in Minnesota, but there is a weird strain of some Welsh subculture (sometimes we just call it "the Welsh" if people are Not Talking or Taking Gigantic Steps Without Telling You) in my family. My mother does not have it. It was my dad. Boy howdy, was it my dad, and his dad. Man. All of her kids drive her nuts because it's like pulling teeth to get out of us what she thinks of as very basic information. She tells us stuff all the time. We have to remember to do that, and yes, if things are strained, then that is An Effort; it's not the default.

P.

[miz-hatbox.livejournal.com]

That is a good way of putting it. I often have to remember that.

I especially have to remember it about myself, because I'm sometimes about the bottles (especially when things are going mostly okay and I want to vent about little things). But I am sometimes about the wells (like when things are going really, really badly...except on LJ because there it might be more like a geyser! But in person I can still be a well because a> I already wrote about it, and b> I am bored of my problems and c> I do not want to geyser all over you in the middle of Starbucks.) When things have gotten bad in recent years there were friends who have seen me be a bottle person for years in the past, who knew what was up, who may indeed have been hurt because I didn't say anything to them or get together with them or anything.

And the catch is, I don't always know which way I'm going to be until I am in the middle of it. Sometimes I have been a well for weeks and then suddenly I find myself under So Much Pressure, especially if Mirth is just not up to hearing about it (or if he's part of the precipitate) and I need to find someone else.

[ellameena.livejournal.com]

Well, people are people. No matter where you go, they pretty much work the same. What your excellent point may highlight, though, is the fact that people are not bottles. Our feelings don't build up and then explode. There are different ways of coping with life experiences, and the demonstrative, expressive way that pop psychology tells us that we need to do it may not always be the best. I'm not even sure that it's sometimes the best. I've heard some reports that there are studies showing that midwestern style coping, "bottling up" feelings, and forced cheerfulness are better than psychotherapy.

So, I say, bottle it up all you want. It's those that are letting it out who should be making excuses. :-) I mean, what if I don't want "it" all over me?

[zwol.livejournal.com]

This speaks to my own difficulty with expressing sympathies, especially online; for instance I rarely throw in sympathetic comments when people do vent about their problems on LJ, despite feeling that this is expected of me.

It's not quite the same thing, though; my inner reaction is along the lines of "I shouldn't just say the same thing that anyone could say, I should think of something meaningful and actually helpful to say, and that's really hard and why can't I just hand the person a cup of tea and/or rub knots out of their neck for a while?" and then I give up.

I could come up with some pop-psych nonsense about this being my family's fault but meh.

[swan-tower.livejournal.com]

My spouse and I have actually declared a formal system: whether we're out or have guests at our house, I can discreetly tap an SOS on him (yes, literally -- three short, three long, three short) and he'll know that I want to leave/want our guests to leave.

I can do the social thing. But only for so long.

[swan-tower.livejournal.com]

I need a metaphor that will account for me mostly being on the well side of things except when I spring a leak.

I don't bottle stuff up. But I do occasionally fall apart. Maybe that's me falling into my own well?

Metaphors. Bah. Tricksy little things.

[mrissa.livejournal.com]

Yah, allowing people their exit lines is extremely important.

[mrissa.livejournal.com]

It's good to have signals worked out well in advance, so you're not asking your spouse, "How's your headache doing?" and having him chirp, "Oh, fine!" when, in fact, he's supposed to look pained and start edging towards the door. Your SOS taps also avoid provoking the sort of confusion we had with the girlfriend of one of markgritter's research groupmates. We had them over for dinner, and almost immediately after dessert was served, the gf started complaining often and pointedly about her headache. We couldn't tell but suspected that this was, "I don't like these people; get me out of here now!" And working out another time to get together for dinner never quite seemed to work out. But we went to a picnic she held several years later, and she was clearly quite happy to see us, so apparently she really did have a headache, and the other times were bad scheduling.

[mrissa.livejournal.com]

Glad to be of service.

[mrissa.livejournal.com]

Well, but I think that the stereotype that most men are like this goes along with and they shouldn't be. Women's magazines are constantly giving advice on getting "him" to open up and let his feelings out.

[mrissa.livejournal.com]

One tries.

[aedifica]

I have the same difficulty figuring out meaningful ways to reply when others post about their problems. But then I remember the times I've posted about problems, and how sometimes I just wanted to vent (and then I didn't care what responses I got) and other times it meant so much just to know that there were other people out there pulling for me, regardless of what words they used to express it--and so I usually go ahead and write my supportive comment no matter how inane the comment seems.

[mrissa.livejournal.com]

I think just having more people thinking about multiple modes of handling this sort of thing might help.

[aedifica]

I feel like I have some reply to make and I can't quite put my finger on what it is. But I'm enjoying the whole conversation, and if I come up with that reply, whatever it is, I'll post it then.

[leahbobet.livejournal.com]

No...that's a lot of my reaction too. I am distinctly uncomfortable with saying anything that 1) I don't mean and 2) might be interpreted as the socially required noise rather than something useful, meaningful, and pertinent. So I sometimes just don't say anything at all, especially when I want to be helpful but have no capacity to help and know it. It's caught me shit from people before.

I suspect it's an introvert's reaction. When I am in a time of stress or grief, I do not want to expend energy on dealing with you just because you feel social niceties require you to be in my face. One should be genuinely useful or be out of my face. Thus I do unto others in this way.

(This may be pop-psych, but...resonate at all? *g*)