On Not Being Yourself

What language tells us about our conception of the ‘Self’

Philosophy is often made to seem like an impenetrable subject, some even go out of their way to make it seem so. Maybe it makes them feel superior, that they are beyond plebian pursuits. This would not be a far cry from where philosophy started, a field of study for those who are nobler, both in mental ability and in social class. Naturally, the correlation between the two often led to confusion about which is necessary for the other, like a devoutly religious person claiming their fortune could not have been amassed was it not for their strong belief in God.

Philosophy, however, is not a matter of class or ability, it is simply a matter of looking closer at what is otherwise seen as mundane. To this, there is no shortage of philosophy in our lives, and more often than not, it is found in the recurrences and themes of our speech.

The Self-Observing

One of the most interesting of recurrences is how we talk about ourselves, or more specifically when we talk about us not being ourselves.

‘I haven’t been myself lately’ is something we might say if we have fallen ill, or things around us are not going as we planned. ‘I don’t know why I did that’ might be something we say when we have a lapse in judgment or a sudden break from our regular behaviour. After ending a bad relationship we may exclaim that ‘I finally feel like myself again’.

We also use these expressions when talking about others. Last year, a friend of mine succumbed to a terminal illness, it was not unusual for my other friends to note that my dying friend is no longer ‘herself’ due to the illness.

These common phrases point to an understanding, even if in a general sense, of what the ‘Self’ entails. Most of this understanding is a result of our ability to observe and be aware of ourselves and what is happening within us — consciousness. So what do these statements and sentiments tell us about the ‘Self’?

Dissecting the ‘Self’

The most palpable thing these statements point to is a sense of continuity. Not feeling as ourselves means that we expect ourselves to behave in a specific regular or recurring way, or, perhaps more interestingly, that we have gotten used to ourselves behaving and being a specific way. It is once we notice that we are no longer behaving in this certain trend that we notice or realize that something is off.

Some may argue that this is an overly mechanical interpretation, that indeed we first feel off, and then our behaviour changes. As such. this entire process of not feeling ourselves is a much deeper and mystical process that happens within. However, this would give us more credit than is due as most of the things that make us lose our sense of self begin with external or physical stimuli, a break-up, getting ill, a change in work, moving, all changes in our conditions and context rather than changes that start from within. Of course, this is with the exception of changes that relate to mental health.

So if who we are is determined by patterns of behaviour, how are these patterns formed?

A sense of continuity requires a sense of remembrance, we must remember who it is we are, that is, how it is we behave. This suggests that our identity slowly develops as we trial and error different ways of behaviour, of being. Our interactions shaped by other peoples reactions. These inform us of what behaviours solicit what kind of results creating behavioural heuristics who become who we are, our character.

This doesn’t mean that our behaviour is entirely learned or pavlovian. That is to say that our behaviours do not develop purely on account of which of our behaviours is rewarded, for that would suggest that there is some sort of objective way to determine what qualifies as a reward and human behaviour is more complex than that. We as individuals value different things from our individual interaction with others and need a way to deal with novel situations.

This points to something other than memory that forms who we are, value systems that are external to us, either inherited or deduced. These systems manifest themselves as myths, stories that inform our decisions and help us create a picture of who we should be and how we should behave — what it means to be a human. These myths are what we use to assess our behaviour retrospectively beyond the reactions they elicit and what we use in an attempt to anticipate or forecast our behaviour — ‘I should be more honest’.

Although both memories and myths provide structure to the ‘Self’ and a sense of continuity neither of them points to an immutable nature of a thing called the ‘Self’. We may be tempted to say that if memories and myths do not point to an immutable ‘Self’ then our ability to disassociate with our ‘Self’ i.e. to recognize that we are not, at this moment, truly being ourselves, surely must!

For this to be true, we would need to treat the Self as a discrete category that one is able to escape from, or is forced out of, and that ‘not being yourself’ is also another discrete category — the un-self. If this is true, the obvious question becomes, who are you when you are not being yourself?

The ‘Self’ and pop culture

It’s interesting to see how some of the concepts of the self manifest in pop culture. Themes and phrases around self-improvement or change lean on the fact that the ‘Self’ is not immutable. Phrases such as “tomorrow is the first day of the rest of your life” seem to suggest that changing who you are is a matter of flipping a switch. Whereas others such as “Life starts outside your comfort zone” present a more nuanced perspective of the self as developmental where you can and should intentionally pursue a feeling of ‘not being yourself’.

Here, however, statements such as tomorrow is the first day of the rest of your life present us with an interesting question. If the self is not immutable, why can we not just change who we are on command?

The answer is simple, inertia. Our self-concept is developed over time and is rehearsed. Knocking ourselves out of the performative aspects of the self, a possible feat, requires us to both reconceptualize ourself — adopt new myths and reinterpret past interactions (memories) and also get out of the ‘habit’ of being who we were. This makes it a much more difficult and self-driven process than a simple decision. Indeed, this is also why it is external-driven events that tend to change us with greater success and frequency than the internally driven process of self-reincarnation.

Dealing with the un-self

So far we have used the concept of the un-self to shed more light on what the ‘Self’ is or isn’t and have determined that the feeling of not being ourselves has a dissociative quality, but we have not spoken about how to better deal with that quality.

The clues, however, are found within our previous analysis. We do not feel ourselves when things around us have changed and our typical ways of responding to them need to be adjusted. Leaning on our memories of how we have previously navigated similar situations will help alleviate the dissociative quality of not feeling ourselves by reminding us that this is not the first time we feel this way, and that, the last time we did, we were able to overcome the feeling, just as we will now — this even if our memory doesn’t or can’t provide any clues as to how we should behave.

Another way to cope with the feeling of not being ourselves is to revert back to the overarching myths that have previously informed our decisions. Turning back to our myths can help us realise that although things around us may be changing, our values are still the same and will help recoup in time.

Both these strategies point to our earlier discovery that even though we are not currently feeling like our selves, our ‘Self’ is still present.