Let's start with that lovely Spoon Theory, started by Christine Merisandino. While she came up with it on the fly to describe what it's like living with lupus to a friend, the idea has been carried over into other areas of disability and (in)capacity to "even," as it were. So although depression and anxiety are, at least in theory, mental/emotional disorders (because keep in mind, mental and emotional exhaustion pretty much always ends up leading to physical exhaustion after a point), the metaphysical "spoons" needed to carry out one's day whilst living with conditions like these translate similarly to those of a physical condition, like Merisandino's lupus. But essentially, the idea is, you have a finite amount of resources (the "spoons") to use throughout the day in order to do... everything. Everything from getting up in the morning, to showering, to getting dressed, going to work/school, eating, errands... Everything. And if you run out, you're basically fucked. So you have to kind of prioritize and decide what you absolutely must do sometimes, what you can put off until tomorrow, etc., if you have enough spoons to see a friend, treat yourself to a dinner out, etc. She also points out how sure, you can essentially take out an "advance" on your spoons and pull from the next day's supply, but you also can't be sure something won't crop up that will make that day all the harder.
While no analogy is perfect ("Why a spoon?" "What if you had a few huge spoons?" etc., for example), especially when acted out physically, as she did with her friend, it actually really can drive the point home. A few years ago, I simulated it with a colleague that genuinely wanted to understand my depression and anxiety (we used hangars 😂), and her reaction was pretty similar to Merisandino's friend.
So what?
Well, I've talked before about how best to comfort someone going through a hard time. I still use the bad behaviors I talk about there as an indication as to whether or not I should confide in someone. But another thing I use is what I (and the friend I talked to) call the "Why don't you just __?" Litmus Test.
And the reason this is related to the spoons is that if I'm out of spoons, no, I can't "just" do anything. I'm out. My supply is empty.
And, if I'm out of spoons, I can't even begin to think about the "just" or coming up with a plan to "just" in the first place. It takes spoons to even start contemplating how to use spoons, let alone actually using one.
Sometimes, I just need the chance to wash and recuperate my spoons before I can think of what comes next. We all do. So even though it would be great if you "just could" whatever, even though a part of you knows there's something you "could" be doing, the idea of even thinking of it is just so not happening, because the prospect of the spoon cost in even that endeavor is just overwhelming.
And this. This is something that doesn't really get brought up enough, not in this capacity, anyway. Because there's a difference between not being ready to do something, and not being ready to think about doing something. And while I see discussions of the former, I don't see many, if any that I can recall, of the latter. How it takes spoons to think about how to use more spoons.
In other words, spooning is hard.
And I think this is especially important to consider vis a vis Millenial Burnout. We're so busy spinning our wheels and working our asses off (whether it be juggling multiple jobs to make ends meet, or the constant connectivity to our workplaces, generated by social media, email, and smartphones, that translates to never really, truly being off the clock), that we feel like "simple, mundane" stuff takes up more spoons than we can spare- so we put it off. A huge part of that comes from how Peterson talks about debt not just being about student loans, but the lies we were conditioning our lives around: "It’s also about the psychological toll of realizing that something you’d been told, and came to believe yourself, would be 'worth it' — worth the loans, worth the labor, worth all that self-optimization — isn’t." But because we've been, again, conditioned to go with it, since it's all we know, we keep spinning those wheels. And while both simultaneously becoming more and more disillusioned and continuing to believe, we are damaging our very psyches. As she goes on to say, "We put up with companies treating us poorly because we don’t see another option. We don’t quit. We internalize that we’re not striving hard enough. And we get a second gig."
And this fucks with the spoon supply.
For me personally, too, Petersen's discussion of how being poor taps into your spoons has stuck with me since the article first came out.
"In recent years, new scientific research has demonstrated the “massive cognitive load” on those who are financially insecure. Living in poverty is akin to losing 13 IQ points. Millions of millennial Americans live in poverty; millions of others straddle the line, getting by but barely so, often working contingent jobs, with nothing left over for the sort of security blanket that could lighten that cognitive load. To be poor is to have very little mental bandwidth to make decisions, “good” or otherwise — as a parent, as a worker, as a partner, as a citizen. The steadier our lives, the more likely we are to make decisions that will make them even steadier."
It's important to bring up financial insecurity when talking about burnout, then- juggling multiple jobs to make ends meet and living paycheck to paycheck isn't just physically exhausting, but mentally so. For people like me, whose anxiety can get the best of them sometimes, the fact that I don't make enough to save yet- when I'm in my mid-thirties, nonetheless- is a huge drain on my capacity to even, often because I (we) fear both the costs of handling things I/we know I/we should and the repercussions of not handling them. This isn't new to Millenials, but it's not restricted just to people living on SNAP and in Section 8 housing- it happens to the people that make juuuuust enough to cover their stuff, but not enough to save, too. I have a roof over my head, my bills get paid on time, etc., but there isn't enough money leftover after each pay cycle for me to invest, drop into savings, etc., so shit freaks me out.
Example: The light on the air filter button in my car hasn't been on for a month, indicating to me the filter probably needs to be changed. But I'm too scared to see how much the fix would cost/ actually go get it done because the last three times I took my car in for something routine, I was out an entire paycheck and still needed to borrow money because lo, that other thing I thought maybe was a problem but never looked into ended up being ginormous, or some other thing happened that ruined everything, etc. But, I need the air filter because it helps reduce my exposure to allergens, thus reducing the likelihood I get a sinus infection and/or strep; and I don't think it's a coincidence that I had the former last week (still on antibiotics), and so part of me knows it's only a matter of time until I do get strep again and am down for the count for three-plus days. And while yeah, strep doesn't sound like that big of a deal, keep in mind, I'm paid hourly, for when I'm there. If I'm sick, I don't get paid, which means bills don't get paid. So that is why I don't want to get sick. Thus, it's this huge internal conflict every time I get in the gorram car. And even though I'm not really doing anything, that takes up spoons- the seeing the light not on sends my brain spiraling, and it's hard to deal with on a less-good day.
And if I brought this filter thing up with anyone, the vast majority of people would say, "Why don't you just take your car in?"
So let's get back to that litmus test. "Why don't you just__?"
It doesn't have to be phrased exactly that way, of course, but the basic idea that you're not doing the obvious and/or easy thing of your own volition and will assumes 1) you're in a condition to do so and won't, and 2) are in a condition to come up with the plan and execute it, but won't. And like I said before, that second assumption is the one that doesn't get talked about as often. But it happens: When you're in the thick of things, sometimes it's literally impossible to picture a way out. Not because of hopelessness or despair, but because you're drowning and your gorram brain literally can't go there.
You're out of spoons. So you shut down.
And this? This is trauma. Shutting down doesn't happen out of stubbornness, or laziness. It's a neurological reaction to stimuli, conditioned by past experiences, and a manifestation of the brain's response to those experiences. I shouldn't have to tell you that trauma effects your brain- just Google it and read some of the research on it. But suffice to say, shutting down is a survival tactic, initiated by your brain when things get too heavy. I'm not saying being overworked is the same as being in a car accident or getting assaulted. But. I think there's a reason some of the symptoms of the aftermath are similar- similar things happen to the brain in these situations, and the resulting behaviors afterword are related.
When there is enough trauma, the brain starts to go into survival mode by default and, among other things, the fear centers go into overdrive. It's an adaptive behavior, meant to preserve the body, but your brain doesn't understand your emotions and situations the way your actual consciousness does. So when something realistically harmless but existentially frightening comes your way, your brain either panics and you start freaking out, or it just nopes the hell out of there and you shut down.
 |
| Shutting down is basically the "flight" reaction |
I think this is especially why people get perceived as "dragging their feet" when it comes to getting mental health help, at least sometimes. Even if they want to improve their mental health, the idea of figuring out how is, in itself, terrifying and overwhelming and would just cost too many spoons to follow through with. So they grit their teeth and force themselves through another day, because at least they know how to budget their spoons on a regular day without taking on such a big task.
The somewhat ironic part is that often times, even just having a plan ends up increasing your net worth in spoons. I've been there before- where the idea of figuring out how to solve a problem was too terrifying, but then once I did- and not even necessarily did the thing I realized I needed to do, just, y'know, realized it- I felt so much stronger, more alive, like I had so many more spoons.
Now, this doesn't mean I "should just" anything. I didn't attack it directly earlier, but too often there's a sort of moral superiority involved in conversations involving the "just" assertion on the part of someone. A judgment and normative evaluation of the person they're talking to. An implication that if they "just" got off their ass and pulled themselves up by their bootstraps, everything would be fine. Even if not intended, and honestly, even if the person making that "just" statement actually means well and wants to help, they come across as at best, sort of know-it-all-ee, and at worse, a raging asshole. But obviously, the person making this judgment is either (best case) unaware of or (worst case) ignoring the fact that making a plan requires at least one spoon, and well, the other person is out.
And like okay, there's also the "reading the room" factor, too- anybody whose spoon supply is that low already knows it, and being reminded of it by a "just" statement only makes them feel worse- and, hey, probably diminishes their spoon supply right there; go figure!
ISN'T MENTAL ILLNESS FUN!?!?!
ISN'T MENTAL ILLNESS FUN!?!?!
My point with all this is twofold.
1) I want more people to acknowledge this. That it's not just about having the capacity to start doing something about the hardships in our lives when they crop up or accelerate, it's having the mental and emotional resources (spoons) to come up with how to do something about those hardships sometimes that keeps us from doing so.
2) Asking someone, "Why don't you just..." or making statements equivocal to that is insensitive, at the very, very best. I want to reiterate something I said in one of those older blog posts I linked above in this one: Sometimes people just need to vent. Ask if someone wants advice before giving it. And be very careful about how you do phrase it. Never in any way make it sound like the thing you're suggesting is easy without first acknowledging how hard it will be to get it started- otherwise, by saying it's easy, you're insinuating the person you're talking to is lazy/not trying/etc.
And I think if the first point happens more, the second will follow. How hard spooning is in some contexts will be more understood, so fewer "just"ing will happen to people having a hard time.
It would be nice if this was the problem:
Instead, it's this:
And once we understand this, like Neo, we'll all be better off.
