The idiocy that emotions can bring upon us
Before I start off this piece, just wanted to show this picture I took during my brief visit home:
This was taken about 5 minutes from my house along the Potomac River. Not sure if it was because it was one of the last warm weekends, but there were so many dads that had set up day camps (maybe overnight as well) for their kids. Currently live in the city, being away from nature has truly taught me to appreciate it. Wanting to take as much of it in as possible, I brought my dogs – Lychee and Scarlett – here to walk along the trail for the last time of the year. Nature really is so magical. Just the way the sun shining through the leaves and reflecting against the river felt serene.
There are instances were my conscious “snaps awake” momentarily, leading to thoughts of, “Wow, this is what it means to feel alive.” Just existing in the present with my dogs running around, the kids laughing and screaming, and the aroma from grill the dads were preoccupied by made it possible to just stop in moment and appreciate life for what it is.
Okay, enough distractions.
paths
In some ways, it feels only appropriate to write about this topic as a starter, as it’s what initially got me into writing as an attempt to process my scrambled-up internal dialogue.
I do want to say that, for obvious reasons, this is solely based on my internal framework functions, as every person thinks and reacts differently. As someone who mostly understands what the “correct” logical decisions are, it’s funny how the heart takes over, often impulsively fulfilling its desire despite knowing the negative impacts.
Romanticism
When we try to relive memories, especially recent ones, they’re often distorted by the emotional state upon their occurrence. This pertains to the good and the bad.
For the good, it may be romanticized and placed on a pedestal.
For the bad, it can easily go two different ways [based on how one processes emotions]. In the initial moments, the brain tries softening the blow with the use of rose-tinted glasses to protect itself. Other times, a stark contrast may occur, where the pain is sparked and engulfed by uncontrollable blaze.
Today, I want to focus on the good. Romanticizing and sentimentality are such beautiful things our brains do. They etch these fond memories and make us yearn for them so heavily, especially when it is something unattainable that we know can only remain in the past. It hurts so much, but it also feels so good to have once experienced. That is what makes memories so special.
What does it mean to romanticize? By definition, it is to deal with or describe in an idealized, unrealistic fashion. Wanting to stay living in the moment, I find myself often replaying and highlighting the details that elicited feelings out of the norm. Distracted in my day-to-day life, some parts of me felt like a broken record living the past, repeating the same reminisce until the romanticism finally began to fade.
Sentimentality
Unfortunately, I am the type who, while trying to live in the moment, often finds myself reflecting and enjoying reliving past good memories.
I amaze even myself with how nostalgic I am overall as a person. I’ll find myself walking and retracing my steps from time spent in places with sentimental value, often without planning it. It happens subconsciously. It’s like trying to relive memories by looking at the souvenirs left behind – doing things and going places in attempt to stimulate the dopamine associated with those events.
I don’t know if that is necessarily good. Yes, I’m putting value on and honoring these memories in a sense, but is that also me living in the past? I’m not too sure.
I am not a realist at heart. I love to romanticize. I love to reminisce. I love to get sentimental. It can hurts, but it can also feel nice. It’s the brain feeding the mental addiction bits and pieces by revisiting the same shops, listening to certain songs, buying the same drink at the same café, and write things down as if to re-experience traces of slight dopamine in connection to moments that bring back a sense of nostalgia.
Addictions and Neurological Paths
Often it’s the knowing that something won’t result in anything more that makes it harder to let go.
It’s the fleeting moments that make something more precious. The absence and unattainability sting in way that is only amplified by the brain keeps its pursuit circuits on.
There’s a form of idiocy that comes with the enjoyment and pain of reliving and wallowing. I didn’t realize it at first, but maybe the way one recognizes a memory as good is that, without putting conscious effort, the brain tries to relive it. Does it chemically do something? Produce serotonin? Dopamine?
Moments that catch me most are the ones with surprise in them. Prediction error is the fancy term to say that I just feel the jolt. Unanticipated actions and experiences land deeper. When a story doesn’t finish, it just lingers and grows louder. The open loop keeps the pursuit chemistry running, a low, steady buzz that is ready to jump at any point. It becomes a strange balance of the brain fighting to remember but move on.
(Side note: I wonder if my mom is like this too.)
In no ways am I trying to psychologist here, but here’s me and psych minor’s take:
When something hits like a jolt of joy or an unexpected small but meaningful gesture, it stamps brighter than the rest. In more technical terms, a quick norepinephrine flare fills the recall of memory with adrenaline. Then through the amygdala that is responsible for our emotionally intertwined memories, it identifies the significance in the moment and brings our automatic nervous system flying in. It’s almost like saving the moment onto a polaroid, capturing the nostalgia that makes it so treasurable. As we are throwing all these reactions into our brain’s “faces”, there may also come a thread of oxytocin that acts like a bonding glue that makes the scene feel warm and fuzzy.
The reality is that these chemical reactions don’t just sit there, but are desperately trying to resurface. The daily cues we used to never give a second glance at start acting like magnets. The street, the cafe, that one song. It is crazy how we neurologically predict a tiny good thing and out comes a little dopamine in anticipation, often before one even realize they’ve turned the corner.
I suppose you could say the anticipation is “the point”, following a breadcrumb trail knowing it won’t lead anywhere.
To recall and remember never feels like a clean replay, softening for a second before reality hits again. But it is also in that tiny brief window where our emotions and delusion can slip in,
It’s comforting and dangerous at once. It’s like healing something while also polishing the pedestal.
State matters more than I admit. I know that I can go to a different coffee shop, listen to a different playlist, and shop in different shops. I know what needs to be done. But its the odd warm feeling that keeps me entrancing, acting in ways I know don’t possess positive long-term impacts. What can I say, the heart wants what it wants.
There is a clear answer of how to move past everything. Kill the romanticism. Stop allowing yourself to linger in that pointless phase of reminiscence. Stop replaying the montage version that cherish it by allowing it to be a part of your past.
As always, I am not entirely sure where I was going with this. I just find it fascinating how strong the heart is and how heavily it can impact one’s (specifically my) logical ability, diverging one’s actions from what one knows is correct to what one wants to do.
Either way, writing it helps. It lets me see the scaffolding of memory, chemistry, and sentimentality. That is enough for tonight.
hasta la vista,
xffny
EXTENSION OF XFFNY 
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