Creating Fictions
It most frequently seems to happen when there is a situation with a layer of ambiguity in my life. Situations where the lines between right and wrong and the path forward seem rather cloudy. These are the moments when I find myself creating fictional arguments in my head.
And, the thing is, I’m always right.
The argument is expertly framed in a way that puts me on the high ground, possessing some knowledge that the person on the other side of the (fictional) table can’t even dream of having. I’m not speaking about the deep, rational thinking about a conflict where the goal is to reach a solution. I mean the arguments when I put forward all the right points and have all the answers to the claims my “opponent” brings forward.
I don’t sit down and plan to have these arguments. I rarely even notice they’re happening until I’m halfway through and realize my heart has rate sky-rocketed and my hands are sweaty. I find myself lost in these fictions on the bus, walking, cooking, or doing other rather mindless things. It seems like they sense a gap in my psyche and try to settle themselves down before I realize what’s happening.
And, the thing is, they feel good.
It feels good to win a (fictional) argument, to outline all your points and only hear weak rebuttals; to justify your position in the situation and feel as if you’ve won and can finally move on.
This often happens in relationships. Whenever there is some sort of underlying tension, or resentment about a situation, I find myself engaged in these fictional conflicts that I’ve created, arguing ferociously to show why I’m right and they’re wrong. Rarely does the other person know I feel that way about a situation, that it might bug me, and that I spend considerable mental energy debating a point with a projection of them (that only says and does things in the argument that I want and propels me toward to being right).
Take communication in relationships: I would create scenarios where my partner got mad at me for not replying often enough. I’d come up with 15 airtight reasons why I was “too busy” to check my phone in order make sure I was armed with enough ammo to win the fight. In reality, she never raised this issue, and deep down I knew that this behaviour contributed to a growing distance between us.
These fictional arguments point to three useful truths. First, they indicate there is something that bothers you and needs to be addressed. I often find that I only ever get deeply into my head about these things when there is truly something that bothers me, but I haven’t brought it up to the other person. Or I’ve brought it up so poorly and incoherently that we haven’t been able to actually address the problem. If you find yourself on the bus creating fictional arguments with your partner about communication, best to put aside some time to bring it up with them in real life.
Second, creating these fictional arguments is a massive waste of time. Literally, nothing gets done (other than you maybe feeling better that you’ve slam-dunked every single point under the sun in the argument, but that feeling fades). The problem still exists, often with more intensity, when you pull yourself out.
Third, it’s a comically large waste of mental energy. I’ve spent more time than I care to admit engaging in these arguments, only to find myself either more highly-strung because I’ve worked myself up, or tired because I’ve used some precious mental space to do absolutely nothing that contributes to a healthy resolution. A good hint here is that I never come out of these feeling more positive about the situation, my relationships or world at large. I feel empty and tired.
Fortunately, there are 2 questions that have helped when I find myself in the depths of these fictions:
Is there evidence for this?
Is this useful?
When I caught myself arguing with my partner about my lack of communication, I should have asked: Is there evidence? (No, it’s just old resentment and ego-protection). Is this useful? (Definitely not — she’s never brought this up and I have no idea how she actually feels).
99% of the time, the answer to these questions is “no”. This is a good indication to let the whole damn thing go. But that 1% is worth paying attention to because if I do think there is a sliver of evidence, I should take the time to bring up the issue in real life. Not in some fictional situation where I’m always right and have all the points that count.
I suspect that creating these fictional arguments is something we all fall prey to. Who, deep down, doesn’t want to feel they have the high ground in an argument? Who, at their lowest moments in a conflict that is emotionally charged, doesn’t want to win? But the truth is I am yet to get somewhere productive, get anywhere with these arguments, and often pull myself out feeling worse about myself, the other person, and the situation. I’ve found these questions are a good starting point to avoid wasting time, draining energy, and creating a villain on the other side of the (fictional) table — particularly when I usually care deeply for that person.
99% of the time creating these fictions aren’t useful — they’re empty calories. Real sustainable, nourishment comes from an honest, messy conversation in the real world.