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🦆 CHILL THE DUCK OUT

Volume 031: Embrace your inner monster.

👹 Cold Open

This past weekend, we made the short drive down to Conway, South Carolina, which transforms into what they call "City of Halloween" this time of year. And when I say the city goes all out, I mean the actual city government treats Halloween decorating like an Olympic sport they're determined to win.

We're talking about the Tunnel of Bones where you walk among 10-foot skeleton statues. Ogres positioned on street corners like they're waiting for the bus. The fountain by city hall literally turned into a bubbling witch's cauldron. Skeletons climbing the water tower because apparently even the undead have infrastructure maintenance duties.

It's excessive. It's dramatic. It's municipally-funded chaos, and it's absolutely excellent.

What I love about Halloween is that it’s the one time of year when being weird is celebrated, being dramatic is expected, and even city officials give permission for things to be a little unhinged. Nobody's walking past the witch's cauldron fountain going "is this really a good use of taxpayer dollars?" They're stopping to take pictures and saying "this is amazing."

The city isn't hiding its weirdness or apologizing for its commitment to spectacle. They're displaying it proudly in public spaces, inviting everyone to enjoy the absurdity.

So naturally, I started thinking about monsters… emotional monsters. As one does while watching a skeleton scale a water tower.

We all have moods that lurk in the shadows. Frustration dressed as a banshee showing up every time someone doesn't use their turn signal. Anxiety with zombie energy that won't die no matter how much you try to logic it away. Existential dread in a full Dracula cape, appearing dramatically at 2 AM to ask if you're living your best life or just surviving in business casual.

For most of the year, we try to stuff these monsters in the basement and pretend they don't exist. We shame ourselves for feeling frustrated, anxious, or overwhelmed. We treat our difficult emotions like character flaws instead of just... part of being human with a nervous system and bills to pay.

But what if we took a page from Conway's Halloween playbook? What if instead of hiding our emotional monsters in shame, we put them on display with the same unapologetic commitment the city shows with their decorations? Not in a toxic positivity "everything is fine" way, but in a "yeah, this emotion is here, it's kind of ridiculous, and I can work with it" way.

When we get curious instead of judgmental about our difficult emotions, those monsters become a lot less scary. Sometimes even kinda lovable in their weird, dramatic way. Like a skeleton climbing a water tower. Objectively absurd, but somehow charming in its commitment to the bit.

So this week, we're not burying our emotional monsters in shame. We're naming them, understanding them, and maybe even displaying them with the same pride Conway shows off their ogres. Because the messier parts of you still deserve kindness, even when they show up uninvited wearing a stupid costume.

🧠 The Science Bit

Let's dig into why naming your anxiety "The Scroll Fiend" is actually psychologically sound advice, backed by people who study brains instead of just decorating city fountains with fake witch cauldrons.

Externalization makes emotions manageable.

Psychologists call this "externalization", which is giving your feelings a name and identity outside of yourself. Dr. Michael White's work in narrative therapy shows that when we externalize problems, we gain psychological distance and problem-solving capacity. Instead of "I am anxious," it becomes "Anxiety is visiting me right now." That shift matters because one makes anxiety your permanent identity, while the other makes it a temporary visitor you can manage. It's like the difference between being trapped inside a burning building and watching it burn from across the street. Same fire, very different ability to think clearly.

Dr. Ethan Kross's research shows that self-distancing (creating space between you and your emotions) reduces emotional reactivity and improves decision-making. When you separate yourself from the emotion enough to give it a character profile, your brain can engage its problem-solving networks instead of just panicking.

Naming emotions literally calms your brain down.

Dr. Matthew Lieberman's research on "affect labeling" shows that putting feelings into words reduces activity in your brain's alarm system and increases activity in your reasoning center. The simple act of saying "I'm feeling anxious" dampens the intensity. Now imagine taking it further and calling your anxiety "The Doom Scrolling Goblin." Your brain gets even more distance, plus humor activates completely different pathways than fear or shame.

Studies show specific labels work better than vague ones. "I'm stressed" is less helpful than "I'm overwhelmed by competing deadlines." And "The Deadline Dragon is breathing fire in my inbox" might be most helpful because it's specific, externalized, AND absurd enough to make you smile while acknowledging the real problem.

Playfulness rewires how you process difficult emotions.

Research on play and emotional regulation shows that approaching difficult emotions with curiosity activates different brain systems than approaching them with judgment. Dr. Stuart Brown's work demonstrates that playfulness reduces stress hormones and improves our ability to handle pressure. When you create a "Monster Manual" for your moods instead of just white-knuckling through them, you're training your brain to respond with creativity instead of panic.

Dr. Kristin Neff's self-compassion research fits perfectly here. When we externalize emotions playfully, we're practicing self-compassion by acknowledging the struggle while treating ourselves with kindness rather than harsh judgment. Giving your frustration a silly name doesn't dismiss your feelings. It befriends them enough to understand how they work.

🍟 This Week’s Happytizer

This week, I want you to build a Monster Manual for one of your current moods or recurring emotional patterns. Give your inner goblin a full character profile and see what happens when you treat difficult emotions with curiosity instead of judgment.

Create your monster's profile:

Name: What's this emotion/mood actually called? Get creative. (Examples: Stressarella, The Scroll Fiend, Captain Overthink, The Sunday Scaries Specter)

Appearance: What does this emotion look like if it were a Halloween decoration? (A zombie? A ghost? An inflatable dragon? A skeleton doing taxes?)

Catchphrase: What does this emotion always say to you? (Examples: "But what if everything goes wrong?", "You should be doing more", "Everyone's judging you", "We ride at dawn... or never. I'm tired.")

Powers: What's this emotion really good at? What does it make you do? (Examples: Hypervigilance, catastrophizing, sarcastic comebacks, productive panic, avoidance with style)

Weaknesses: What makes this emotion worse or triggers it? (Examples: Hunger, too much coffee, Slack notifications, existential questions before bed, comparing yourself to people on Instagram)

Secret Motivation: Why might this emotion actually be trying to help you, even if it's doing a terrible job? (Examples: Anxiety trying to keep you safe, frustration pointing at unmet needs, overwhelm signaling you need rest)

The goal is to get some distance from the emotion, understand it better, and maybe even find it a little bit charming in its absurd, dramatic way. Let it be silly. Let it be true. Let it remind you that the messier parts of you still deserve kindness, not shame.

Bonus points if you actually draw your monster or describe it to someone who will appreciate the absurdity.

🎉 Unsolicited Joy of the Week

Every year since 2018, Shelly Jimenez has transformed her front yard into a glowing Halloween wonderland. Not for clout, not for candy, but for her son, Chris.

Chris was born prematurely with cerebral palsy and vision loss, and Halloween lights were his thing. Like, full-body joy, squeals of delight, and year-round anticipation-level thing. So Shelly went all in. Pumpkins. Projectors. A visual symphony of spooky delight.

When Chris passed away in 2023 at age 29, Shelly could’ve stopped. Instead, she doubled down, turning her display into a tribute, a community bright spot, and a glowing love letter to the joy her son found in every flickering fake spider.

Proof that love doesn’t end. It just gets string lights and fog machines.

📖 Read Shelly’s full story here

🧪 Speaking of keeping your inner monsters manageable...

Turns out, your emotional goblins are way harder to deal with when you're running on coffee and chaos. I've been using AG1 as my daily nutritional insurance policy because sometimes my diet sucks. One scoop covers vitamins, minerals, probiotics, and adaptogens so my body has what it needs to handle whatever my brain throws at it. Because it's hard to externalize your anxiety when you're internally a nutritional disaster.

The daily health habit you’ll actually stick with…

This time of year, it’s so easy for your daily routine to be thrown off.

When it starts getting dark before you’re home from work and the Halloween candy is taunting you, it’s important to find something that’s easy to do daily for your body.

That’s where AG1 Next Gen comes in.

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Click here and you’ll get a free AG1 welcome kit with your first subscription including a:

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It’s one of the easiest things you can do for your body every day.

Click here

_{*These statements have not been evaluated by the Food and Drug Administration.}

💬 Tell me about your emotional monster

What's lurking in your psychological basement that deserves a character name and a better costume?

📩 [email protected]

If this made you feel 1% more okay with your inner goblin, share this with a friend... or I'll start showing up at your door dressed as your unprocessed emotions, which will be uncomfortable for both of us.

🫶 Duckin’ Done

That's Volume 031.

Here's to naming our monsters, decorating our goblins, and remembering that the weird parts of us deserve kindness too.

Until next time: breathe deep, befriend your inner chaos, and chill the duck out.

Jason

🔬 Behind the Curtain

Externalization as a therapeutic technique comes from Michael White's narrative therapy work, helping people separate their identity from their problems. Ethan Kross's research on self-distancing shows measurable improvements in emotional regulation and decision-making. Matthew Lieberman's affect labeling studies demonstrate how naming emotions reduces amygdala activity and increases prefrontal cortex engagement. Stuart Brown's research on play shows its role in stress reduction and emotional flexibility, while Kristin Neff's self-compassion work demonstrates that treating ourselves kindly while acknowledging difficulty leads to better mental health outcomes than harsh self-judgment.