What a Let-Down!
by Loretta Graziano Breuning, Ph.D., Greaseless blog
When your happy chemicals dip, your brain concocts failure.
Happy chemicals work by turning off and on. The "off" feels bad in contrast to the "on," which can fool us into thinking something is wrong. For example, when you eat the last bite of a delicious ice-cream cone, there's a sudden sense of loss. You might interpret that as a sign that something is wrong with your world. But if you understand your own neurochemistry, you can recognize this let-down feeling as the natural re-setting of your happy chemicals instead of rushing to negative thoughts.
Here's a personal example. Some mornings I go to my computer and find a lovely reward waiting for me - perhaps a kind message from a PT reader, or a nice note from one of my kids. And when I check my computer at night I might find a nice uptick in blog readers, or an invitation, or a brilliant witticism from a total stranger. My brain learned to expect a surge of happy chemicals when I go to my computer. But alas, I'm often disappointed. I go to my computer and no happy tidings are waiting for me.
What a let down! Is something wrong? Should I "fix it"?
A multiple choice answer is at the end of this post. But first, it's useful to see how different happy chemicals lead to different let-down feelings. If you've read my prior posts about neurochemical ups and downs (1, 2, 3), you know that dopamine, serotonin, endorphins, and oxytocin trigger different kinds of happiness. Let's see what happens when each one dips.
The Dopamine Let-down: After you've achieved the big goal.
The day after a race or any other significant accomplishment, you often feel bad. If you look for a reason, you might decide that your performance was lacking in some way. Or that the goal you worked toward was somehow ill-chosen or the community unappreciative. If you knew that your dopamine spiked from the big event, and now it's returning to normal, you might not burden yourself with these negative thoughts. You'd still feel bad for a bit, because normal is less exciting than a dopamine spike. By accepting the bad feelings, you return to the normalcy that makes dopamine spikes possible when you really need them.
The Serotonin Let-down: I'm not the big-shot around here anymore.
You used to be the president of the PTA, and people sought you out when you walked into meetings. Now you're hardly noticed. PTA meetings used to trigger your serotonin. Now they're a let-down. It feels like something is wrong with the world. The disappointment is real, but you risk giving it global proportions unless you understand its true cause.
The Endorphin Let-down: Now it really hurts.
Imagine twisting your ankle during an exciting tennis match. You hardly notice because your body releases endorphins when it's injured. That masks pain for a few minutes while you do what it takes to meet your survival needs (which includes scoring in tennis). Once the endorphins wear off, you're in serious pain. You wonder why, since you felt fine after you twisted the ankle. You start having painful thoughts about the game and everything that went wrong in it. You'd be better off if you knew it was an endorphin let-down.
The Oxytocin Let-down: I wish I knew who I could trust.
You're working with a group that really synchs, and it feels great. But something changes, and now some of your mates seem incompetent while others seem out for themselves. You feel you can't trust them anymore, but without trust, the work feels awful. What a let-down!
Your cortex doesn't know why your happy chemicals sag. Surprisingly, it has no inside information. Your cortex is not on speaking terms with the primitive limbic brain that controls your neurochemistry because the limbic system does not use words or abstractions. Our limbic brain is inherited from earlier mammals and responds to the world with this simple formula: release happy chemicals when something is good for survival, and unhappy chemicals when something is bad for survival. Survival means different things to your cortex and your limbic system because your cortex learns from experience while your limbic system evolved to meet the needs of your ancestors.
The cortex only learns from new experience when it's especially relevant to survival. Otherwise, it pretty much relies on old experience. That's efficient. But your old experience may have wired you to react with great frustration to neurochemical let-downs. Your brain will keep using the neural pathways you've already built unless you invest the huge effort it takes to build new pathways.
So what should I do when I don't find a happy boost when I check my computer?
a.) Go check the refrigerator. Then re-check computer. Repeat.
b.) Make the world be nice to me by sending out messages until I'm exhausted or a deadline looms.
c.) Generate theories about my failure, and gather evidence to support those theories.
d.) Accept the disappointment as one of the ups and downs that comprise a human life, and stay focused on positive steps toward long-term well-being.
by Loretta Graziano Breuning, Ph.D., Greaseless blog
When your happy chemicals dip, your brain concocts failure.
Happy chemicals work by turning off and on. The "off" feels bad in contrast to the "on," which can fool us into thinking something is wrong. For example, when you eat the last bite of a delicious ice-cream cone, there's a sudden sense of loss. You might interpret that as a sign that something is wrong with your world. But if you understand your own neurochemistry, you can recognize this let-down feeling as the natural re-setting of your happy chemicals instead of rushing to negative thoughts.
Here's a personal example. Some mornings I go to my computer and find a lovely reward waiting for me - perhaps a kind message from a PT reader, or a nice note from one of my kids. And when I check my computer at night I might find a nice uptick in blog readers, or an invitation, or a brilliant witticism from a total stranger. My brain learned to expect a surge of happy chemicals when I go to my computer. But alas, I'm often disappointed. I go to my computer and no happy tidings are waiting for me.
What a let down! Is something wrong? Should I "fix it"?
A multiple choice answer is at the end of this post. But first, it's useful to see how different happy chemicals lead to different let-down feelings. If you've read my prior posts about neurochemical ups and downs (1, 2, 3), you know that dopamine, serotonin, endorphins, and oxytocin trigger different kinds of happiness. Let's see what happens when each one dips.
The Dopamine Let-down: After you've achieved the big goal.
The day after a race or any other significant accomplishment, you often feel bad. If you look for a reason, you might decide that your performance was lacking in some way. Or that the goal you worked toward was somehow ill-chosen or the community unappreciative. If you knew that your dopamine spiked from the big event, and now it's returning to normal, you might not burden yourself with these negative thoughts. You'd still feel bad for a bit, because normal is less exciting than a dopamine spike. By accepting the bad feelings, you return to the normalcy that makes dopamine spikes possible when you really need them.
The Serotonin Let-down: I'm not the big-shot around here anymore.
You used to be the president of the PTA, and people sought you out when you walked into meetings. Now you're hardly noticed. PTA meetings used to trigger your serotonin. Now they're a let-down. It feels like something is wrong with the world. The disappointment is real, but you risk giving it global proportions unless you understand its true cause.
The Endorphin Let-down: Now it really hurts.
Imagine twisting your ankle during an exciting tennis match. You hardly notice because your body releases endorphins when it's injured. That masks pain for a few minutes while you do what it takes to meet your survival needs (which includes scoring in tennis). Once the endorphins wear off, you're in serious pain. You wonder why, since you felt fine after you twisted the ankle. You start having painful thoughts about the game and everything that went wrong in it. You'd be better off if you knew it was an endorphin let-down.
The Oxytocin Let-down: I wish I knew who I could trust.
You're working with a group that really synchs, and it feels great. But something changes, and now some of your mates seem incompetent while others seem out for themselves. You feel you can't trust them anymore, but without trust, the work feels awful. What a let-down!
Your cortex doesn't know why your happy chemicals sag. Surprisingly, it has no inside information. Your cortex is not on speaking terms with the primitive limbic brain that controls your neurochemistry because the limbic system does not use words or abstractions. Our limbic brain is inherited from earlier mammals and responds to the world with this simple formula: release happy chemicals when something is good for survival, and unhappy chemicals when something is bad for survival. Survival means different things to your cortex and your limbic system because your cortex learns from experience while your limbic system evolved to meet the needs of your ancestors.
The cortex only learns from new experience when it's especially relevant to survival. Otherwise, it pretty much relies on old experience. That's efficient. But your old experience may have wired you to react with great frustration to neurochemical let-downs. Your brain will keep using the neural pathways you've already built unless you invest the huge effort it takes to build new pathways.
So what should I do when I don't find a happy boost when I check my computer?
a.) Go check the refrigerator. Then re-check computer. Repeat.
b.) Make the world be nice to me by sending out messages until I'm exhausted or a deadline looms.
c.) Generate theories about my failure, and gather evidence to support those theories.
d.) Accept the disappointment as one of the ups and downs that comprise a human life, and stay focused on positive steps toward long-term well-being.
