Persona

I have a confession to make. My wake-up alarm is set to a BTS song. Every morning I start my day with either catching up on Weverse notifications, Youtube videos, checking my Facebook groups on BTS-related info, or (and most likely) all of the above. I end my day with their music playing in my mind. I am mildly perturbed by this. As a person who favors and favorites nothing but my son (because he’s an only child), I’m often concerned by this level of obsession. It can’t be healthy, can it? More than that, as an old(er) lady it’s embarrassing, especially as it pertains to my bias. I’ve been pretty vocal about being ARMY, even sporting BTS-themed clothing and jewelry. But, as I “loud and proud” as I am, it’s a struggle. Why? Because I’m not sure how it fits my image of how I want others to view me.

Honestly, as a hard introvert (I’ve been “classified” as an INFJ), I would rather people don’t view me at all! Better that I am a faceless, amorphous presence in the background. I am more comfortable that way, when I can just watch others and they don’t notice me. But, that’s not how American culture works. We are meant to show our individualism and uniqueness whilst belonging to a “tribe” or “team,” whatever that may be. I have a hard time “belonging” and/or “identifying” as anything. And, this is why as a transpersonal psychology student, I struggled whenever we learned of and discussed aspects of Self and how we are meant to accept and integrate them (all of Her) to be our True Self. I suppose, for me, those different roles we play in our own Hero’s Journey are nothing but masks we don depending on the occasion. They are but simply our momentary persona.

Who am I? The question I had my whole life
The question which I probably won’t find an answer to my whole life
If I were answerable with a few more words
Then God wouldn’t have created all these various beauties
How you feel? How’re you feeling right now?
Actually I’m real good but a little uncomfortable
I’m still not so sure if I’m a dog or a pig or what else
But then other people come out and put the pearl necklace on me

I started my grad studies in 2015. I initially applied to a program in spiritual advising or something like that. That program was cut so I ended up in transpersonal psychology. Because I’m a person who literally thinks everything happens for a reason (in other words, leave it all to God/dess), I was ok with it. Now that I look back on it, I think it’s both ironic and funny.

I have always warned my son never to date a psych student because (and yes this is a generalization) they’re all crazy and trying to find the answers to fix themselves. And, here I became a psych student. And, I think I went a little “crazy.” Actually, let me rephrase that into a more politically correct way. I broke into pieces.

So I’m askin’ once again yeah
Who the hell am I?
Tell me all your names baby
Do you wanna die?
Oh do you wanna go?
Do you wanna fly?
Where’s your soul? where’s your dream?
Do you think you’re alive?

When I did my one-week orientation at grad school, I felt I became alive. I thought I’d found my people, my tribe. My cohort and instructors were/are like-minded folks who understood that “woo-woo” part of me I couldn’t explain out loud. They could relate to all the “weird” things I experience – the metaphysical and spiritual happenings that seem to weave themselves into my daily life; the surges of power and insight that come from nowhere and are a bit frightening because society and primary Western understanding have no explanations for them. My school and the people in it had labels to make those experiences more palatable and acceptable for me. They offered me the holes I could put my peg into, labeled as intuitive, shaman, witch … there was a buffet of personas from which I could pick and feast – goddess, empath, fairy. The list can go on, but you get the idea. All of it felt right. And all of it felt wrong.

Persona
Who the hell am I
I just wanna go
I just wanna fly
I just wanna give you all the voices till I die
I just wanna give you all the shoulders when you cry

My second year into grad school, I felt that my reason for being there was so that I could be the shoulder for everyone’s burden as they went through their transformative process. Being constantly available and empathic made me, I think, withdraw into myself. At the same time, I was creating a new persona for others to see; a new mask to hide behind, to appease the senses of others and with which I could, and did, create a barrier between me and the outside world. Hmmm… I suppose some would say I was falling into my chronic depressive state.

Even after graduation, I held onto this mask and added layers of laquer to it. A layer of “business owner,” a layer of “coach”, a layer of event planning, forest-bathing, teacher, fund-raising, nature girl. Oh gosh… the list goes on. So many layers. So many roles to play. So many personas. Writing this down, I feel sick to my stomach. Literally. It’s too much, overwhelming, and too heavy. How many layers do you add to your mask before it stops up all the breathing holes and you begin to suffocate?

And, here is where Kim Nam-joon’s (aka RM) words make me want to scream because I can relate so much:

[Verse 2]
My shadow, I wrote and called it hesitation
It has never hesitated after becoming that
It keeps appearing under the stage or the light
Keeps glaring at me scorchingly like a heat wave (Oh shit)
Hey, have you already forgotten why you even started this
You were just digging it that someone was listening
Sometimes everything sounds like freakin’ nonsense
You know what comes out of you when you’re drunk.. like immaturity

“Hey, have you already forgotten why you even started this? You were just digging it that someone was listening.” You know, it’s funny. No matter how introverted a person, I guess we all need acknowledgement and attention in some form. And, it’s interesting that RM writes and raps about the “shadow.” This is very prevalent in transpersonal psych. And, like his words and maybe his shadow, mine began to appear more and more and grew larger within my psyche, behind my mask.

[Pre-Chorus]
Someone like me ain’t good enough for music
Someone like me ain’t good enough for the truth
Someone like me ain’t good enough for a calling
Someone like me ain’t good enough to be a muse
The flaws of mine that I know
Maybe that’s all I’ve got really
The world is actually not interested in my clumsiness at all
The regrets that I don’t even get sick of anymore
I tumble with them every night until I’m disgusted
And twist the irreversible time habitually
There’s something that raised me up again every time
The first question
The three syllables of my name and the word ‘but’ that should come before any of those

 “Someone like me ain’t good enough …” This is my shadow. This is the internal voice that takes space inside my head and grows the seed of doubt in my heart. It has been named as “imposter syndrome.” And, I feel that completely.

And because of an unexpected pandemic that shut down the entire world, I have “The regrets that I don’t even get sick of anymore. I tumble with them every night until I’m disgusted And twist the irreversible time habitually.” Stay-at-home orders and required mask wearing gave me permission to let everything go – drop it all and pretend like nothing happened. It’s immaturity and avoidance, and I won’t even make excuses for it because to do so would be false. Let’s just say I took off the heavy mask that everyone was used to seeing, threw it on the ground and stomped on the pieces that weren’t already broken. And, behind it all, I found that I am faceless. And, it’s okay.

Well, this wouldn’t be much of a BTS love post if I didn’t gush over the group, their music, and why I’m writing another BTS-related post. I can’t really gush right now. Very honestly, I haven’t gotten over much of what I’ve just written about – the masks, the imposter syndrome shadow, having to actually come back to reality and deal with all the stuff I set aside … it is all overwhelming. I can barely keep it together as I recover and come out of my cave. But I know I’m not alone. That somewhere on the other side of the world, a South Korean man I can’t understand is rapping the words and feelings that sit in my soul. Somehow, his music and his rhyme are the air that fuels the fire deep within my Authentic Self.

[Chorus: RM]
So I’m askin’ once again yeah
Who the hell am I?
Tell me all your names baby
Do you wanna die?
Oh do you wanna go?
Do you wanna fly?
Where’s your soul? where’s your dream?
Do you think you’re alive?

[Bridge: RM]
Ah, shit
I don’t know man
But I know one thing

[Verse 3: RM]
My name is R
The ‘me’ that I remember and people know
The ‘me’ that I created myself to vent out
Yeah maybe I have been deceiving myself
Maybe I’ve been lying
But I’m not embarrassed anymore this is the map of my soul

Before reading the translation and without even understanding his words, a part of me knew that the answer I seek/sought was in an empathic rap. The rhythm and timbre of his words told my subconscious there was a message for me there:

Dear myself
You must never lose your temperature
Cuz you don’t need to be neither warm nor cold
Though I might sometimes be hypocritical or pretend to be evil
This is the barometer of my direction I want to keep
The ‘me’ that I want myself to be
The ‘me’ that people want me to be
The ‘me’ that you love
And the ‘me’ that I create
The ‘me’ that’s smiling
The me that’s sometimes in tears
Vividly breathing each second and every moment even now

 

“Transpersonal psychology can be understood as a psychology of transformation, one that studies humans as participation members of transformative process. . . Transformation of consciousness is not merely developmental maturation, but a process in which the very identity of the participating subject (individual or collective) is radically reorganized as it comes under the influence of higher forces (Hartelius, Rothe and Roy, 2012).”

Caught in a Lie

So, I was gonna write about my joining BTS ARMY in the order of the songs that impacted me. But, I’m watching and listening to Jimin’s “Lie” this morning and recall the emotions that went along with the first time I heard it.

Well, since I can’t understand but maybe four words of Korean, naturally it’s the music that drew me in. From the first time I heard it, something about it was so inconceivably heart-wrenching, I almost had to stop. You know the feeling, right?

There’s that feeling in your chest you don’t understand – where it comes from and why it’s there – slightly uncomfortable and indescribable. And, it’s a feeling that threatens to move up your throat, you can almost taste it. And, if you’re not very, very careful, it will turn into a choke or, god forbid, a sob. And, if it does that, you’re lost. You will be deep in that emotion, and your brain will be empty and upset.

But, … listen to the music. Something about it permits you to have that feeling. It allows you to fall into that sadness because it understands. Maybe Jimin (the BTS member who sings it) understands. Maybe he feels it, too, or has been in that internal space with you.

What was this “lie” he sings of? Then, I watched a video . . .

(Turn on closed captions)

Beautiful, heartthrob visuals aside, when I read the lyrics (closed captioned conversion to English), my heart decide to rest in my throat. I was already drawn to the English sentence in the song, “caught in a lie,” as it spoke to something in my subconscious.

Perhaps it is because of this pandemic that I have felt a strong disconnect to the life I’m living and the person I have always imagined myself to be. Or, perhaps, it’s been the depressive state I fell into months before COVID-19 came to the U.S. Or, again “perhaps,” working retail as I tried to build a socially conscious business around me created a huge disconnect between the life and person I was/am showing to the public and the spiritually-aware, mystic-like person I think I am privately. I don’t even know . . .

[Verse 1, translated]
Tell me
With your sweet smile
Tell me
Tell me like you’re whispering in my ear
Don’t be like a prey
(Be) Smooth like a like a snake
I want to get away

The persona I’ve been showing the world – She with the “I-don’t-give-a-damn” attitude as she smiles sweetly and happily at everybody around her — is that fork-tongued, slick-skinned snake mask I wear daily. I want to get away!

And, I thought I did when I’d get home to close the doors to my home, and myself, leaving the selfish, virus-ridden world outside where they/it belonged.

[Pre-chorus, translated]

Whoever it may be, save me, me
Save me
It continues even when I run away
I am caught in a lie

It doesn’t work that way. The lie, and the anxiety, and all that goes with them follow you in. They are part of you. And, no amount of hand sanitizer or hot showers will get rid of the snake that’s wrapped around you and presents its face as yours.

Depression is a bitch. My Depressive Self is ruthless, without compassion, and a general asshole. She’s angry and must struggle to see the good in anyone. She is careless in thought, word, and deed. Care-less. Imagine that. It is not the same as “carefree.” It may, with the right/wrong person, be the basis for psychopathy.

[Side Note: in the middle of writing this post, I received a package. I thought it was from my awesome cousin who has been generously sending me BTS albums/dvds as gifts (I got him hooked). His thoughtfulness and generosity has been inspiring to me in these past three months. In fact, it was from another friend who I’ve recently talked to about my new “obsession.” She understands having been going through a depressive state herself and also because she’s the ultimate “fan.” She sent me a BTS sweatshirt. I ugly cried on my couch. Here I was writing this blog post, and this lovely present comes. These two friends who understand my new “hobby,” as well as my lovely sister and co-workers who’ve texted me BTS-related news in support of my happiness . . . it’s overwhelming! It’s love. And, it’s a definite message (to me) that I’m not alone. That, in fact, there are beautiful, loving souls outside the safety of my house who are here to save me. Thank you to all of them and to you, who took are taking the time to read this.]

. . .

A week has passed since I’ve begun writing this and I received the present. And now, I’m recovering from staying up for two nights watching Festa. Can I go back to what I thought I was writing? Reading back on that last paragraph, it seems this post was headed toward a self-criticism. And, in fact, that might have been fitting because it’s that very negative self-talk that has made me feel so connected to Jimin and his struggles. And, somehow, despite the Korean language I didn’t/don’t understand, that shared struggle was conveyed through the music to give me that feeling of discomfort and (true to my self-hypercriticism) shame.

An author’s article explains Jimin’s song as one “in where we see an inner fight between his two sides, his true and insecure self, and this mask that he created to face the world but is swallowing him up. It’s a complex song where metaphors, vocal and music composition details mix to vignette a cry for help.”

If you’re interested, you can Google why Jimin himself was crying out for help. These lyrics describe, for me, my internal cry for help:

Find the me that was pure
I can’t be free from this lie
Give me back my smile
Caught in a lie
Pull me from this hell
I can’t be free from this pain
Save me, I am being punished

The hyper-self-criticism is the punishment. Putting aside the snake face one presents to the world … putting aside the many decisions you must make daily and the different masks you wear for those decision-based actions … pain comes from the internal disconnect. Find the me that was pure. There’s that spirit within you, within me, that is pure, loving, childlike, Godlike that is surrounded by darkness, anger, sadness, hopelessness . . . who can help me? Who can save me?

But, that’s just it, isn’t it? Therein lies the message that BTS members and their music have been telling the world. No one can save me. No one outside myself. My Self. The savior is Me.

I am still the same person I was before
I am here, the same person I was from before

It’s in remembering my True Self that I can begin to come out of the depression. And, it is in loving that person fully and whole-heartedly (Whole. Heart) that I can reach balance of Self, show love to others, and come back to that pure person I was before and am in my deepest heart of hearts.

I like to think that’s the journey Jimin has taken and is continuing to take. As he’s grown into an incredible man throughout these 10 years with BTS, he’s been sharing his struggles and healing growth. And, for that, I sincerely thank him and all of BTS as it is allowing me, and other ARMY, to self-heal. Borahae.  

At 52, I joined the A.R.M.Y.

Chronic depression … what are the signs? Have I been in one for the past two years? Or, since Covid-19 hit the U.S.? It’s hard to tell when you’re in the depths of it. When you’re standing in the darkness and there is one point of light in the distance, how do you see it when your eyes are closed?

Then, I found BTS.

I watched the James Cordon carpool karaoke featuring this K-Pop group early this past March (2021). But … I had seen this before; the previous summer. I think I was too deep in slumber for my conscious mind to process what I watched. This time, I was half-awake and ready to see the joy and laughter and J-Hope’s smiling face in the middle.

That video struck a note of happiness in my chest somewhere. It was uncomfortable and, mostly, unfamiliar. But, it was also curious. Curious enough to make me click onto another video that popped up on my YouTube feed – something like Hip Hop dancers react to BTS dancing or something like that. Turns out they were viewing and reacting to the 2020 Melon Music Awards of BTS’s performances of Black Swan, ON, Life Goes On, and Dynamite.  And, the combination of their reactions and what saw on the little screen they watched had me even more curious and, dare I say?, excited.

I found the full video myself. And, my heart … cried.

It cried for the beauty of the performance of “Black Swan” on the screen.
It cried for the artistry of dance, music, stage, imagery, costumes, colors . . .
It cried because it began to beat again, along with the rhythm and drums of “ON.”
It cried because, with the newly infused blood, it heard the truth that “Life Goes On” but I haven’t been.

I didn’t know and couldn’t understand what I was listening to. I just knew I could sense a light behind my eyes. And it hurt, so my heart cried. I cried.

““It’s okay to shed the tears / But don’t you tear yourself”
— “Moonchild” – RM

Then, a song came on in English – “Dynamite.” And I danced!

“We gotta dance in the rain, dance in the pain”
–“Moonchild” -RM

Now … I’m not completely dense and out of the loop. I had heard this song last year. But, when I’m in a depressive state but don’t know it, nothing affects me. Nothing. In fact, everything is nothing to me. And “everything” includes my physical state (as well as my mental and emotional states). So when sitting in nothing becomes your state of physical be-ing, it hurts when you get up to dance. And that discomfort is, perhaps, what inspired the desire to open my eyes and look for that tiny point of light.

I finally spotted it. It seems to be emanating from somewhere in S. Korea. I’ll write more about that later and about why I, a half-century old woman, finally became a fan of something/someone(s) for the first time in my life. Until then, … Stay Gold!

P.S., the RM (aka Kim Namjoon) quotes are from his mixtape single, so not necessarily a BTS song. But, I thought they were very fitting for this post. As individual artists, their songs are, to me, as inspiring as their group music.