By Kristine Keller

There are times when you’re playing back a situation in your mind and a split screen appears. On one side of the screen there’s reality—the version of events that actually happened. But it’s the second screen we zero in on in high-definition, with surround sound and unequivocal certainty— the twisted version of reality. When the aloof waitress pours your coffee only halfway and then throws your check on the table with steely eyes, you’re convinced she’s a moody person all the time. Or when your loved one comes home and offers a curt “hi” before shutting himself away, you think he’s mad at you.

It’s easy to delve into the muddled inner corridors of our minds and jump to irrational conclusions. Our brains have innumerable associations to make every day at extraordinary energetic costs. We find ways to maximize our cerebral energy, and sometimes the result is making hasty judgments and associations. Sometimes these quick associations are helpful—there’s no need to re-evaluate your stance on Chris Brown (blech) or Beyoncé (goddess)—but when doing so, we must aim for being a truthful and insightful observer of others’ behaviors, rather than misrepresenting actions that falsify reality.

The most prominent exaggerated thoughts can make us irrational, illogical creatures, one snapchat away from sending our best friend a selfie sad face. This past weekend, these fallacious thoughts took the cerebral stage when I offered to dispense advice to a friend trapped in text banter purgatory. “She doesn’t like me anymore,” he moaned. “Her replies went from sexy paragraphs to the equivalent of a verbal lobotomy.” I rolled up my sleeves and consoled him: “Maybe she lost her job this week. Maybe she’s got a thorny family problem. You don’t know what kind of cross she’s bearing right now.”

I’ve been on that sinking armchair before, and this propitiating advice is unsatisfying or ignored 90 percent of the time. My friend committed a common cognitive distortion known as the Fundamental Attribution Error. This is the tendency for us to attribute internal, intrinsic motivations to the behaviors of others, while minimizing the impact of external situations. These situations may be unpredictable and leave us, at best, a little snippy, and at worst, on the floor in shambles, foaming at the mouth with tequila and chipotle. In tandem, we’re prone to personalizing these situations and led to thinking their acts are a direct reflection of how other people feel about us.

After erroneously underestimating the impact of external situations, your mind might amble to a related cognitive distortion, all-or-nothing thinking, which goes something like this: He didn’t text me back, and it’s been two hours, so he’s never going to text me again and this will always happen in my life. Before you weep into your hands and curse the sky, relax. Turns out, his dad was just kidnapped on the L train by a belligerent goon on the lam. Your sometimes-boy has got bigger fish to fry, so you have to cut him some slack for his lack of emoji-cyber reciprocation. The “never” and “always” extreme labels that we generalize from one situation leave us unable to see anything in shades of gray.

When trying to decipher the veracity behind others’ actions, we only have the information presented before us, especially when evaluating the actions of strangers. But in focusing solely on internal characteristics to make sense of brusque behavior or confusing commentary, we often deceive ourselves. We can remedy this by engaging in mindful empathy, and imagining the manifold reasons that could have contributed to someone’s ill-perceived behavior. Taking a second to think about the kind of day your waitress or loved one had before personalizing actions can keep these distortions in check and our negative conclusions to a minimum. Maybe then we can merge our split screens into one and have a better viewing experience all around.

by Kristine Keller

These days, when a flame sputters and fades out, we’ve got an armful of friends ready to peel us off the floor with the margarita blender, limes and coconuts. You’ll do the proverbial dance around the blender while Jose Cuervo wafts through the air and spend the night yelling aspersions aimed at the opposite sex. Your army of comforting friends succors you with “you deserve better!” and “you do you tonight!” over the humming of the blender. You then delete said flame from your phone, take down the pictures of the two of you basking in La Esquina Park last summer and do your best to forget. But just when you think your heart can’t break into any more pieces, another memory seeps through and you grab your chest in disbelief that it’s happening again. Another perilous pang from the omnipotent organ that oxygenates us, protects us and makes us feel alive and in ruin at the same time.

For most of us, situations like this are fleeting. Most make a full recovery from those stumbles in the capricious dance of love and life, but for 5 percent of the population affected by a condition called limerence, heartbreak feels like an indefinite December night pierced by the strings of Joni Mitchell’s Blue album. Psychologists characterize this unique ailment as an involuntary and incessant state of compulsory and unrequited longing for another person. Usually both parties remain dejected for a period of time after a flame-out, but when one half of the couple moves on and the other remains in a state of constant longing and obsessive thoughts and feelings, limerence has the ability to take a serious toll on one’s already heavy heart.

During one’s initial descent into attraction, it’s healthy and quite fun to feel life’s natural euphoric high and the ascent of pleasure-activating hormones like dopamine and oxytocin. You’ll nod and smile while friends tell stories about their day, while the only thing you can think about is his mouth on yours or her bare back in your bed. You’ll shrug off the busy deadlines or running late to the subway only to find the doors shut in your face; these annoyances don’t matter when you’ve got someone waiting for you at the end of the day. Naturally, you want these honeymoon feelings to last forever, but for our productivity and sanity, we actually need these reward-seeking hormones to dissipate. And thankfully they do, after six to twenty-four months.

For those who suffer from limerence, however, these intense feelings never ebb. They say absence makes the heart grow fonder. But what these universal idioms surrounding love neglect to mention is what can happen when separation causes one’s heart to desire too much. Patients who suffer from limerence describe their thoughts and feelings as obsessive and compulsive; it shouldn’t come as much of a surprise, then, that one of the only medications to treat those suffering from limerence, Lexapro, is the same one used to treat obsessive-compulsive disorder. Lexapro, a type of antidepressant, thaws the part of the brain that is responsible for the obsessive thoughts. Patients report difficulty concentrating, constant rehearsal and replay of shared interactions, and loss of control over one’s actions.

Although research on this condition is nascent, medication and cognitive behavioral therapy are providing promising results. Leading experts on limerence suggest that patients don’t ever forget the breakup entirely, but that if taken care of properly, symptoms can decrease after a few years. But, future empirical research and brain-imaging techniques are currently under way to yield a more comprehensive understanding of this evolving condition. What we do know is that a bad breakup or unrequited love can trigger the onset and that it can happen to anyone—limerent individuals can be found in all age groups, both genders and the full range of socioeconomic classes. So, if all it takes is a chant to “put the lime in the coconut” to get you over your heartbreak hump, then you’ve found your silver lining, and it’s looking more like a bubbling gold on the rocks.

Kristine received her master’s in psychology from NYU. She currently works at Vanity Fair. E-mail her at StreetshrinkNYC@gmail.com for questions.

How Seasonal Affective Disorder could put a damper on the holiday spirit

Like the planets orbit the sun, our lives spin around the seasons. These subdivisions of the year do more than signal us when it’s time to whip out our Mackage coats and begin fireside chats with friends over which artist sings the best “Baby It’s Cold” rendition. They inform us that time is passing and events are moving forward, as is the natural order of things. As New Yorkers, we have an internal hourglass that marks the passing of time until the sand has run out, signaling our earmuffs and legwarmers that winter has arrived! Not one to be late to the party, winter arrives on cue and sashays down Sullivan Street in all her glory while dusting off her snowy skin and casting an opalescent sheen over downtown’s cobblestone streets and awnings.

The red cups brimming with spices and peppermint have returned to ye faithful Starbucks, Broadway has become the mecca for ambling tourists hiding behind maps in search of NYC tchotchkes, and Christmas-tree vendors pepper the once-subdued streets from Nolita to Soho. It’s hard to imagine a downtown without a winter, just as it would be impossible to imagine the harbor without the Statue of Liberty. But for some, winter doesn’t evoke the same jubilation, and getting through the season can feel like navigating a dark labyrinth of gloom and despair.

Those severely impacted by winter’s shorter days and long frigid nights might be at risk for Seasonal Affective Disorder (SAD). Recognized by the Diagnostic Statistical Manual of Mental Disorders 4th Edition (DSM-IV), SAD is described as a subtype of a major depressive episode. During winter’s reign, our brains produce increased levels of the sleep-inducing hormone melatonin. For those affected by SAD, one theory is that a biochemical imbalance of melatonin could lead to a shift in one’s internal hourglass, causing unhealthy behaviors that require medical intervention.

Typical symptoms of SAD include depressed mood, lethargy, lack of interest in activities, social withdrawal and a craving for sweets and carbohydrates. Those affected also spend inordinate amounts of time sleeping and have difficulty leaving their beds. As a result of weight gain and decreased interest in sex and physical contact, SAD sufferers also experience feelings of misery, shame, hopelessness and loss of self-esteem. These symptoms usually occur like clockwork beginning in November or December, peaking during January and February, and dissipating by March or April, depending on how quickly sunlight returns from hibernation. Though anyone can suffer from SAD, an overwhelming majority are young adults and women.

The key to diagnosing SAD is a recurrence of these deleterious symptoms during two successive winters followed by a routine remission in the spring. And while those who suffer from SAD may experience these symptoms at an extreme, there might be a greater number of people at risk for a milder assortment of SAD symptoms categorized as the “winter blues.” For the less-extreme blues, individuals might experience the decreased energy, increased appetite and feelings of sleepiness without feelings of depression and anxiety.

A season that should be welcomed with Bryant Park ice-skating arms thus becomes a dismal march through gray days, but there is some relief. Clinicians and those who have previously been affected by SAD now know when to expect the onset, how long it will last and how to treat it head-on. Special lamps are just one method that has proven helpful. And for downtowners in need of a quick Vitamin D pick-me-up, I suggest long runs along the glistening Hudson River or an idyllic Washington Square Park walk. Though anyone in cold northern cities can feel winter’s burn, downtown New Yorkers are lucky in that we’re surrounded by environmental therapy. Here’s to a healthy and happy winter for all.

By Kristine Keller

It started out like any other weekend. The downtown streets were chockablock with hipsters sporting ironic T-shirts and enduring long waits for a dinner table at Rubirosa. The pulse of downtown throbbed so loudly I could hear it from my fifth-floor walk-up. And then, a flat line. An abrupt horizontal strip on the city’s electrocardiogram. A slow and steady storm by the sweetly deceiving name of Sandy would turn lower Manhattan’s lights black, snatching the city’s voice and unleashing a string of catastrophic events in its wake. Lower Manhattan’s streets looked like a post-apocalyptic universe where the only sounds to be heard were the hushed whispers of trees rustling and the light footsteps of confused residents searching for a candle-lit bodega serving hot coffee.

Though it’s easy to forget a natural disaster’s impact once the shards of broken glass are swept away and refueled taxis frenetically beep their way down Houston again, the stressful aftermath of such an event can leave many feeling beaten and broken. I was young when Hurricane Andrew tore my Miami home away from every side like a film set dismantling after the director calls “cut!” But I’ll never forget the look on my mother’s face when we returned after a safe evacuation only to find our beloved home and possessions destroyed. I’ll always remember her rivulets of tears that formed after finding the water-stained pages of her father’s first published psychology manuscript ripped into shreds. It’s stories like these that have sparked attention from researchers following the stress of a natural disaster. In recent years, research has been devoted to cases of post-traumatic stress disorder (PTSD) as a direct result of natural disasters. For those in the hard-hit Northeast and mid-Atlantic, PTSD may be a harrowing consequence.

Nearly two thirds of Americans will experience trauma in their lifespan, and following a natural disaster, PTSD is the most common mental psychopathology experienced. The symptoms of PTSD, as recognized by the Diagnostic Statistical Manual for Mental Disorders (DSM-IV), begin anywhere from right after the traumatic event to months or sometimes years later. For storm victims, symptoms of PTSD might include re-experiencing the traumatic event in the form of memories, dreams or fantasies so vivid, patients might think they are actually reliving the traumatic incident. Those affected might also eschew activities that remind them of the tragedy. This could mean avoiding restaurants visited the night before the storm and abstaining from other activities once deemed pleasurable. Feeling detached, hyper-aroused or unable to concentrate are also salient symptoms of disaster PTSD. Anyone exhibiting PTSD symptoms for longer than one month should visit a trained medical clinician for a fully formed treatment plan.

Psychologists emphasize that those who believe they are capable of overcoming severe stress are more inclined to recover than those who believe they exercise zero control over life’s negative events. Luckily several organizations are working diligently to rebuild storm-torn communities. It will take time to recover, but New Yorkers are known for strength, grit and resilience, and it’s this power that we must be sure to constantly restore.

Kristine Keller received her master’s in psychology from New York University. She currently works at Vanity Fair.

This past weekend, I sat with two friends, sipping a Bloomberg-approved iced coffee, when a man on the adjoining bench proceeded to ask my friend holding a book on finance if she was enjoying the book and if she indeed worked in finance. Turns out she is and she is.

The conversation spilled over into further self-disclosure when the stranger asked my friend how long she’s lived in the city, what restaurants she likes and about the fragmented stone bracelet on her wrist. Things seemed to be going swimmingly when almost on cue, a tall, svelte glass of woman traipsed forth and kindly asserted herself as the girlfriend of the garrulous gentleman.

As I collected the lower half of my jaw off the ground, the couple departed arm-in-arm amid the other couples red-rovering along the sidewalk. Finance friend collected herself as cool as a cucumber and insouciantly played the interaction off like it was no big thing. But the question reverberates loudly: Was this man truly a financophile or was he dissatisfied with his current squeeze? Carefully executed research would suggest the latter.

Research conducted by Dr. Rowland Miller has found that commitment to one’s current relationship determines whether people are likely to pay attention to alternative suitors. In a well-designed study, psychologists evaluated whether dating, cohabitating and married couples were more inclined to pay attention to alternative suitors based on their satisfaction with their significant others. First, all participants completed comprehensive dating history questionnaires to assess relationship status and evaluate their commitment to and satisfaction with one another. Couples also privately revealed how attracted they were to each other and whether they believed they could realistically date someone better.

Following this, all couples were presented with pictures of attractive females and males, as well as products from advertisements to conceal the true motivation for the study. Participants were asked to familiarize themselves with the images and were given as much time to spend perusing the slides as desired. Next, couples were asked to look at the photos of the opposite-sex targets and were probed on whether they had any interest in meeting them. After two months, the couples were contacted to re-examine their satisfaction with each other and to determine whether they were still together.

As it turns out, attentiveness to alternatives might be an indicator of relationship failure. Remarkably, those who spent more time looking at the photos of the opposite-sex targets and were more interested in meeting them were less likely to be dating the same partner at the follow-up. Those who had indicated that they were less committed at the start of the study also spent more time inspecting the opposite-sex images than the happier couples.

The couples who were more committed and satisfied in their relationships wore protective blinders and showed less of an appetite for seeking attractive alternatives, evidenced by the equal time they spent gazing at the male and female pictures. These couples who spent less time examining the opposite-sex targets were also the couples who were still in exclusive, committed relationships at the follow-up two months later. Couples who believed that their current partner was better than those they could seek elsewhere were also happier and more likely to remain committed to one another.

What are these magical blinders and how can attached men who talk to pretty girls on benches snag a pair? Turns out, the blinders aren’t built in a day. It’s no secret that relationships take work; sometimes couples have to use protective tactics to maximize the good and minimize the bad. Inattentiveness to alternatives is one of those tactics, where couples in committed relationships choose to block out alternative partners in order to focus on the partner they’ve got.

It’s okay to look someone up and down once in a while, maybe even engage in a “what if” scenario, but if you’re almost subway meat because you were staring so hard at the woman across the platform, envisioning her as the mother of your children, it might be time to examine the state of your relationship. And if it’s really that crossword puzzle answer you’re after and the only available stranger around is Kate Upton’s body double, do your honey a favor and call your grandma.

Kristine Keller received her master’s in psychology from New York University. She currently works at Vanity Fair.