#21 ·
electricranger16 said:a specific example
When we get together, my family doesn't talk much. There’s often this awkward silence hanging in the air.
Not too long ago—maybe over the last year or so—I used to feel incredibly anxious in those moments, so I took on the role of the entertainer.
Basically, I’d be the one kicking off conversations about this or that topic.
That would usually ease the tension in the room (and in me).
But some things have actually changed, thanks to psychotherapy.
1.Your motivation for talking is just so you don't feel so terrible.
--> You probably don't even know how they're feeling. They might have a completely different perspective or set of emotions than you do in that situation.
2.You mentioned taking on the role of the entertainer. But wait, who are you entertaining? Yourself or them? Playing the entertainer is like working a job where you aren't getting paid anything. But you actually are! Like you said, your feelings change and you don't feel so bad. You take action, and they become the means through which you feel better.
3.Let's define what communication actually is.
What counts as communication? Words, gestures, non-verbal cues, emotions.
Words and speech shouldn't really be the foundation of communication... emotions should come first. Emotions show up through non-verbal actions—like when you turn toward someone, look at them, and give them your attention. Giving someone your attention is the core of communication, and it's more important than words. When you focus your attention on someone else, you shift the focus away from yourself and stop obsessing over your own thoughts, emotions, or that uncomfortable silence.
It’s possible to be with people for two hours without saying a single word and still feel fulfilled and connected. What's the trick? It happens when you're actively engaged in the communication—really listening to what others say and watching them. You don't have time to overthink or manufacture ideas. True engagement comes spontaneously and naturally, not through analysis and forced effort.
I've noticed this myself when I'm feeling low: I close myself off non-verbally. I stop making eye contact and my body language becomes guarded. Now, there are two options: I can fill that mental gap with attention and active listening or I can start building a narrative:
"Nobody is listening to me."
"I can't get a word in edgewise."
"I'm weak," etc.
When we listen actively, there isn't any room for those kinds of thoughts. !!another specific example
My dad drives me home from the train station—it's about a ten-minute drive.
He stays silent, and I stay silent.
Then I make a decision inside my head: fine, if you've decided to be quiet, then so am I. I DON'T WANT TO BE the entertainer anymore.
And what usually happens? He starts talking. The topics are banal, sure, but it's obvious he can't handle the discomfort of the silence either.
So, I've changed one behavioral pattern.
It's not always easy, though. Sometimes it's hard, depending on how I'm doing generally or what phase I'm in.
Sure, but people don't "stay quiet" because they want you to feel bad. They are just in their own worlds with their own thoughts. In a way, you're holding the silent person responsible for how you feel. You're being passively angry at them. You've given that person the power to dictate your emotions, so you hold them accountable, and then you end up feeling bad because you know deep down you betrayed yourself by shifting the responsibility onto them. Subconsciously, you're admitting helplessness.It’s funny how that "just say anything, just don't stay silent" pattern works. My mom has been using that tactic for years. I wonder if she’s the reason I ended up like this—it's highly likely, I guess.
That's a sharp observation. Looking at myself, I've picked up way too many patterns from my dad. Not so much from my mother. Maybe we just gravitate toward the parent we resemble more.
I'd argue we actually learn how to act from them. They basically serve as a blueprint for how to handle certain situations, and we just end up mimicking it.
Here are the patterns I inherited from my father:
--> playing the victim
--> social tension / either be the center of attention or get emotionally crushed
--> a sense of inferiority
--> passivity
--> the "angry little diet" effect
peace
Got it.
--> You probably have no clue how they’re actually feeling.They might just be looking at the whole thing from a completely different angle—and feeling things quite differently than you are.
Quote:Playing that kind of role for too long just wears a person down—honestly, by the end of the story, I found myself completely checked out. The conversations had become so incredibly superficial, while all the actual problems were just swept under the rug along with a mountain of taboos you weren't even allowed to touch.
2.So, you're saying you've stepped into the role of animator?But wait—who exactly are you trying to animate here? Yourself or them? Honestly, playing the role of an animator is like taking on a massive project where you don't get paid a dime... except you actually do! Just like you mentioned earlier. Feelings just have a way of shifting around on you. You don't even feel that bad anymore. Once you actually start taking action, they become the tools you use to find your footing again. 3.How would one even begin to define communication? It’s essentially the bridge we build between minds—the exchange of ideas, feelings, or data that turns isolation into connection.
What exactly constitutes communication? It’s more than just words—it's the gestures we make, those subtle non-verbal cues, and the raw emotions we project.
Words and speech shouldn't be the bedrock of how we connect—honestly, emotion has to take the lead. It’s all about those nonverbal cues, you know? Like when you actually face someone, really look at them, and give them your full attention. Giving someone your undivided attention is the true foundation of communication—it's way more vital than just the words we say!
Quote:I have to disagree—if it’s a two-way street, then expectations exist on both sides, whether we want to admit it or not.
When you focus all that energy on someone else, you finally manage to step out of your own head—it’s like you just stop obsessing over your own thoughts, emotions, and that awkward, heavy silence. You can hang out with people for two hours without saying a single word and still walk away feeling completely fulfilled and connected. What’s the secret there? When you're actively listening—really tuning in to what others are sharing while you observe them—your brain doesn't have the bandwidth to overthink or manufacture responses. Real engagement happens spontaneously and naturally; it's definitely not something you can just sit there and force through sheer analysis.
Sure, you can definitely feel at ease without saying a word—but isn't that really just a reflection of the crowd you're running with? It all comes down to being in a circle where you actually feel valued, you know? You need to be around people who respect your takes and your perspective, rather than just completely brushing you off.
Quincy:
I’ve started to notice certain patterns whenever I’m feeling under the weather: I honestly feel like I'm just being shut out. I don't even look them in the eye anymore—I just use my body language to show I'm closed off. Now, there are really only two ways to handle this: I can either fill that mental void with actual focus, or... Active listening. Or by building a narrative:
It feels like I’m just shouting into the void here—nobody's actually listening to me.
I just can't seem to find the right words.
I’m feeling pretty weak lately—just one of those stretches, I guess.
When exactly does our mind truly engage in active listening? There’s just no room left for these thoughts..!!
Active listening? Honestly, you have to be genuinely motivated from within to pull that off—you can't just force it.
If I’m actually listening to someone—like, really leaning in—it’s because they matter to me. They’re either someone I care about or they're just genuinely fascinating. Either way, what they have to say carries weight. To be honest, I don't think "active listening" is ever just about being polite; if that were the case, I'd just be nodding along while thinking about lunch.Exactly—people stay quiet because they want you to walk away feeling like the bad guy.You’re living entirely within your own head and your own ideas. You see yourself as this responsible person who stays quiet just because that’s how it feels—but really, you’re just harboring this passive resentment toward him. By doing that, you've handed him all the power over your emotions; you make him the one accountable, but in the end, it leaves a bad taste in your mouth because deep down, you know you've betrayed yourself. Shifting the blame onto him is really just a subconscious admission that you feel powerless.
I partially agree with that first point—but honestly, people can just stay silent to intentionally ignore you because they want you to feel bad or guilty about something. I’m specifically talking about my father here, not just people in general.
Of course I subconsciously handed that person that much power—I really did—but thankfully my therapist helped me realize I shouldn't let it happen again, or at least not nearly as often as I used to.