"I want pasta and fireworks and a dog!"

Let's talk about yearning and its role in our mental health.

Hello Beautiful Readers,

My two year old understands yearning. In the back of the car over the weekend, frustrated by a traffic jam, she cried, “I want pasta and fireworks and a dog!”

Girl, I get it.

Yearning is complicated.

And the more stuck we feel, the more we yearn.

When does longing hurt us?

Many of you know I’m an actor and one simple acting lesson they teach in any Acting 101 class, ask yourself what does your character want? In the scene and in life. This tells you how the character will act.

Want is a basic human quality. It’s hard wired in our brains. But what does this mean for our happiness? Will we ever feel fully satisfied?

I ask myself this question because after my wild ride from wellness, to illness, to recovery and journey to reinvention, as Joni Mitchell puts it, I’ve looked at life from both sides now. And I see my own yearnings to be a slippery slope.

I’m not talking about wanting food and enough money to survive - those are basic needs.

I’m talking about yearning for things you don’t necessarily need. For example, I’m talking Zillow searches deep in the night. Obsessing over a person who either doesn’t know us or is out of reach. Or looking at an influencers life on Instagram and feeling the profound emptiness when our own world doesn’t resemble theirs.

And while I have no Phd in Psychology, I think unproductive longing, especially the kind that has you falling down e-commerce rabbit holes or wondering how to get more followers on socials in the dead of night, is a symptom of a greater problem that drains us of joy in profound ways.

The world romanticizes yearning and longing, especially in art and marketing. But when and why does it sometimes veer into pain and dissatisfaction?

Why do we do this to ourselves? Simply, our brains love to crave.

We release dopamine when we anticipate getting what we want… not actually when we get it. We get way more joy in planning and leading up to a vacation, just knowing it’s coming, than we do on the actual vacation.

Looking forward to things was my anti-depressant for years before July. I was an ardent traveler and planned trips constantly. When one trip ended, I yearned for another on the horizon.

This is natural. But there are times when the yearning can become unhelpful- especially in times of anxiety and stress where it gets magnified.

Yearning can become addicting. YES, an actual loop of trigger, dopamine-release, eliciting MORE YEARNING.

So craving can lead to more and more craving. And this, my friends, is no good for living our best lives.

An article in the Guardian reported half of Zillow’s users would rather search for a dream home than have sex. The expert in the piece Dr. Brewer of Brown University shared “we tend to confuse joy and contentment with excitement and anticipation.”

He says excitement has a restless and driven quality to it. “That’s dopamine urging us to do something because we’re not satisfied with what’s happening right now.”

It’s why I love Christmas Eve more than Christmas.

So it’s vital to be able to identify when craving is becoming an addiction versus healthy motivation.

I think healthy yearning feels like a battery energizing us to be our best selves. Maybe it helps us be ambitious or create the life we dream of.

Toxic longing takes from us. It drains our energy and maybe our bank account. It makes us constantly think our lives aren’t good enough.

So what is the solution? It’s multifaceted like most things.

One major first step, I think we have to identify the behavior. And then, here’s the kicker, you know what else triggers dopamine?? GRATEFULNESS.

Yes, here it is again, my friends. Gratefulness is super powerful. It stimulates the production of dopamine and serotonin, helps keep cortisol at bay, creates new neural pathways and helps keep the brain well.

But gratefulness can be hard in times of stress, I get it. But I promise you (and I know first-hand), even in stress, there are blessings in the darkest moments and it’s best to try and ruminate on that in an authentic way than dreaming of a life that feels out of reach in a prison of our own longing.

As I enter the “ber” months of the year, I find myself longing more and more. I look at the calendar and see another year go by and in the darkening days, my spirit begins to get restless. Longing for a life that I see as “better” or more stable. I get this unsettled tug in the pit of my stomach and I look at things with sour taste. I yearn for past security that no longer exists. I long for life in a different tax bracket. I look at the people I admire and crave their success.

And let’s be clear, some things about my life could use an upgrade. I say that without judgment.

However it’s not productive when hope for change turns into a version of longing that makes me feel bad about myself.

Yearning that makes us feel shitty isn’t helpful. And it might be standing in our way.

But then I stop, breathe, look around and see what’s here. My health stability and the loved ones around me. My miraculous opportunities, my warm community of friends, and my home in a wonderful place.

I’ll always have my ambition. We are constant companions. But let it be my batteries… and not steal my joy.

And I hope the same for you.

More on Gratefulness:

Welcome to my disease. What is atypical Hemolytic Uremic Syndrome (aHUS) or Complement-Mediated Thrombotic Microangiopathy (CM-TMA)?

I started writing this when I was on dialysis. It’s intended to be both memoir and a practical tool to help folks who might be going through something similar or those caregivers and family supporting someone with a challenging diagnosis. NOTE: This is not intended to replace actual medical guidance. Please consult your doctors on your individual challenges and situations. Please talk to your clinicians before adjusting any of your care protocols. Also names have been changed for most of my medical staff.

Thank you to CC Couchois, Roy Lenn, and Dr. Richard Burwick for your founding level donation.