A Case for Angst (or How I Learned to Stop Worrying and Love Being Emo)

Though it’s not nearly as bad now as it was in, say, high school, I have historically had a lot of angst. I’m talking J.D. Salinger levels of angst, here. Not that I’m always gloomy or pissed off about something—far from it. It was just this vague disposition. (Remember, angst is, by definition, nonspecific.)

After a few solid years for this, I realized that I really had trouble relating to people who hadn’t had some sort of anguish (either external or internal) or Existential crisis. (I’m not quite that pretentious anymore. But if you knew me or read my journal while I was in college, you probably know what I’m talking about.) It seemed to me that people without that kind of life experience had a propensity for identifying and solving all the wrong problems (of problems dealing with anguish or personal crisis, anyway). I had enough trouble identifying those problems by myself, so I pretty much avoided anyone who “just wanted to cheer me up.”

You know that old saying, adversity breeds character? The opposite is also true. All of that really seemed to come together when I read this quote from Nicholas Berdyaev:

Not the worst but the best of mankind suffer the most. The intensity with which suffering is felt may be considered an index of a man’s depth. The more the intellect is developed and the soul refined … the more sensitive does one become to pain, not only the pains of the soul but physical pains as well. … But for pain and suffering, the animal in man would be victorious.

So it wasn’t just that suffering sharpened intellect—intellect also sharpened suffering. And it makes sense. More acute senses equate to more acute sensations, so why wouldn’t greater insight into the nature of life equate to a more acute awareness of the pains of living? Also, the smarter you are, the more dumb people grate on you, but that’s aside from the point.

But this isn’t just a matter of intellect. As it adds above, “and the soul refined,” so there is an emotional component to this too. This is also self-aggregating. As you grow to understand suffering, you grow to have compassion for those who experience it, and as you grow in compassion, you enter into the crushing realization that even intense caring from one man or woman cannot hope to put a dent in the suffering of the world. Once you decide to give a damn, you suddenly feel yourself pulled in about eighty different directions. Speaking from my own Christian experience, those who had never really experienced suffering did not really know how to solve the right problems regarding suffering.

Again, from my Christian experience, Jesus said, “I have come that they may have life, and that they may have it more abundantly” (John 10:10). Most Christians tend to focus on the positive aspects of that. But he doesn’t just say, “I have come that they may have happiness”—he came to give more life. All of it. The good and the bad. (I don’t know the actual Greek word here, so if any of my more scholarly friends have any additional insight into this passage, feel free to enlighten me.) A journey of faith is a continual growing of both emotion and intellect, so this makes sense.

Now, please note, I am not speaking of suffering solely as the effect of bad events. Looking back at my life objectively, it wasn’t really all that bad (aside from having a mental disorder). Suffering is a funny human experience in that it doesn’t have to be a tangible experience at all. Consider this quote from Sartre:

It is in suffering alone that he can feel himself to be free, because it is the only feeling which can come from within himself. Unless one is a god, one cannot become happy without the cooperation of the universe; but to be unhappy, one needs only oneself.

One quick aside: unhappiness can be a natural reaction to suffering and is perfectly natural in most people, but for some, it is a chronic condition. For some, it’s not a matter of circumstance or even brain chemicals—they continually choose to be unhappy. Now you know why: they’re exercising a degree of control because they likely feel a loss of control in other areas. I know, there are other reasons to choose perpetual unhappiness, but this is one of the more interesting reasons.

Anyway, all that to say, you’re not necessarily lacking in character if you haven’t had a rough life. There’s plenty of suffering to be had right in your own head.

The moral of the story is, I’m not opposed to suffering. I’m opposed to people not having a choice as to whether they have to suffer, but, again with the saying, adversity breeds character. Have I been depressed, overwhelmed, or even defeated in my life? Yes, a great many times. But would I trade that for any amount of happiness? Absolutely not.

And if you’ve read this whole post and it doesn’t make any sense to you, do not attempt to “cheer me up.” You have been warned.

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