Two Roads Diverged in Yellow Wood
Impulsivity and indecision on the path less traveled
MARIE RONNANDER
You’re in a long line at your favorite cafe. It’s 7 a.m. and the people waiting around you have the pre-caffeine jitters. They’re all frowns and tapping feet with a couple audible “hmphs” in speech bubbles over their heads. You’re next in line and simply unsure whether you want that café miel or a cappuccino. What a predicament. Welcome to indecision, the tried and true partner of anxiety.
Personally, I’m a clinically anxious mess. A massive overthinker. Sometimes, when people forget to make eye contact with me, I’ll just assume our friendship has gone down the drain—it’s something I’m working on. Yet, somehow the indecisive symptom of anxiety has never disrupted my lifestyle. Instead, I bounced to the opposite side of the spectrum. When I feel overwhelmed by options, I tend to short-circuit and choose with my eyes closed: my default is to operate on impulse.
To lay out an example, let’s zoom into the spring semester of my junior year. I was halfway through the semester, and my world was crumbling beneath me. After one-too-many failed experiments and two-hour sleep nights, I blew a fuse. Without even so much as consulting my mother, I sat myself down and booked a solo flight to Greece. I hit the “yes” button and let the dopamine wash over me.
Some refer to dopamine as the “feel-good” neurotransmitter. A name that is perhaps more descriptive is the “mission drug”. When we make decisions or complete tasks, our brain releases this neurotransmitter as reward: a pat on the back for a job well done. As a result, we not only feel good, we feel more capable. Kind of like the power trip Napoleon had while taking over the world. From running a marathon to finishing a chapter in a book, we’re giving constant doses of encouragement that keep our motivations high.
About a day after booking my plane ticket, I called my mom in a panicked stupor. Plane tickets aren’t cheap, and I’m not particularly wealthy. On top of that, I had never been outside of the country, and I definitely did not speak Greek. Oh, and was I coming down with pneumonia? In other words, I saw the flaws in my ways.
The consequences I faced didn’t look like consequences. What I had laid out before me were two weeks in an incredible country completely alone. Sure, I was scared—terrified, even. But I still ended up getting on the plane, infected lungs and all.
For some, the consequence of chasing dopamine isn’t a two week long vacation, but rather outstanding hospital bills and maxed-out credit cards. According to Yale Medicine, dopamine is the number one neurotransmitter involved in addiction. Those of us with ADHD are particularly susceptible to these patterns, often perpetuated by hyperactive impulses that cause habitual, questionable decisions. For me, however, my moment of impulsivity created a balance in my life that I desperately needed.
Those two weeks were spent practically breathing pure dopamine. Decision after decision pumped copious amounts of “Yes! I am capable!” through my brain. I fell asleep by the ocean, ate the creamiest tzatziki, and listened to a midnight concerto in the ancient Roman agora.
I should highlight that some of these decisions did go rather poorly. I scheduled a ferry for 4 a.m. rather than 4 p.m. I ate a really expensive plate of squid, during which I found out I hate squid. And last, but not least, I was almost mauled by a herd of wild boars. But I was alive. Every decision I made was my own, and I lived through them without regret. I could trust myself, and that gave me a peace I didn’t know existed.
Fleeing the country is perhaps an extreme example of trusting your own gut. But maybe the next time you’re in line for a cup of coffee, make an impulsive decision on what you’re ordering. Lean into your intuition and order that orange cranberry scone you’ve been wondering about. After all, know yourself better than anyone. And a little hit of some well-earned dopamine might complement that caffeine nicely.