Our Silent Battles
How much of what goes on in our mind never sees the light of day?
We are all fighting silent battles. Mental health, mental illness, academic pressures, internal expectations of ourselves, fighting to be a good parent, partner, friend, fighting for justice, fighting to stay in shape, fighting to cook more often and eat out less, fighting to quit vaping, fighting addiction, fighting stress, fighting against the behaviors of those who make us feel weak, purposeless, and sad, fighting abuse, fighting to put yourself out there, fighting for love. Fighting to be who we are.
So. Much. Fighting.
After the fun and games with friends at happy hours. After the smile and grin are wiped off of our faces from seeing a colleague at coffee. After the Zoom happy hour. It’s what happens in those moments — the moments where our mind is left to perseverate on the many silent battles that we are fighting — when we are left alone with nothing but our thoughts that the mind, body, and spirit continue their battles.
How are we expected to fight all of these battles alone? How are we expected to fight without lamenting about these battles with other people? How are we expected to stay motivated when we feel so alone, so tired, and so burnt out? If it sounds hard it’s because it is.
A large part of this has to do with the way humans socialize today.
Conversational norms (at least in the West) tend to take a predominantly up-beat, positive, or distractive tone. In some ways this can be ego-driven (“did you see the thing I wrote?” “look at how awesome my child is!” “My company just raised $200k!”). Some of it is mutual interest-based (sports, politics, the arts). Some of it is purely small talk (the weather, your weekend plans, keeping up with the Joneses). Some can be theoretical, academic, and intellectually stimulating (creating new ideas, invigorating intellectual discussion, or battle of wits). But how often are our conversations raw? How often are we talking about the many, many silent battles that we face as individuals (and as a community)? How often are we consistently vulnerable during conversation? How often do we empathize, validate, and truly listen to the silent battles of others?
It can make us feel crazy when we spend the majority of our lives with other human beings living in the conversational world of positivity, up-beat, interest-sharing, and distractive spheres, despite how deeply we are struggling.
It does not need to be this way. COVID has reshaped how humanity talks about mental illness, perceives mental health, and frankly, understands empathy in the struggle that we all face. People across the board, from Twitch co-founder Justin Kan to international tennis star Naomi Osaka have all come forward with their stories of mental illness, struggle, and battles. With them comes a new generation who speaks up, and speaks loudly about these same issues.
As the tide turns, we must learn how to converse in the sphere of vulnerability, emotional rawness, and being uncomfortable. It’s no small feat. It requires a deep level of empathy (am I really showing that I understand their struggles with my body language, tone of voice, etc.)? It requires listening (am I listening to them, or just bringing the conversation back to me?). It requires maturity (am I even engaging with the topic or am I just changing it?). And most importantly, it requires feeling uncomfortable and sitting in someone else’s feelings (oh god, they are making me sad because they are sad. What do I do, what do I do! Answer: Nod your head, and tell them that sounds really hard).
We must learn how to help each other through our silent battles.
Socialization and a sense of community are crucial to the mental stability and wellbeing of human beings. The need for community has shaped societies, religious sects, and drives much of our behavior today. In an increasingly non-religious world where we are left with our own thoughts — and always staring death down — it’s ever more urgent that we learn how to be vulnerable to help each other in our paths. The digital era is nothing short of a renaissance in humankind, but it comes with dangerous implications for our sociability: an endless stream of positive content on social media, a disconnectedness from in-person interactions, and so much information that it can feel like you have all the answers and no answers at the same time.
The sooner we can begin having these conversations with those we love, those we care about, and those in our communities, the sooner we can teach others the value that lies therein. It will not be simple, easy, or fun. There will be many moments where people brush aside vulnerability because they do not understand how to manage it conversationally. There will be others who dismiss our feelings. There will be many who simply do not understand.
But every time we put ourselves out there — every time we vocalize our silent battles — our minds will become more resilient. We will become more secure in who we are. We will, sometimes, be graced with someone who shows us compassion for the wars we are fighting.
We will learn that we are not alone.
If humanity is to flourish and connect in a way that promotes true growth, fulfillment, and well-roundedness, it must grapple with the uncomfortable. It must table the conversations on politics and begin focusing on the daily struggle. It must lead by example by showing vulnerability, but more importantly, that it’s okay to be vulnerable. That it’s normal. That it’s expected. That it’s human.
Keep your fight in your silent battles. You are stronger than you know — and you are never alone. Soon, we will all know this and be in this battle together. And that’s when the real fun can begin.
