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Hope Forward: Surviving and Thriving through Emotional Pain

Monday, January 2, 2012

Top Five Starting Places

So people often ask me if it's possible to save their marriage or renew it. Or to feel better, to find love, to advance or start a career. When things seem broken or dark, hope hides. Sometimes people walk in the door hurt, angry, frustrated, in despair. Not everyone. Folks come in for all sorts of reasons. There is no shortage of good topics when it comes to the self. But people want to know if there is hope. They want to know if marriages can be repaired, if trust can be restored, if love can be dug out from under anger, hurt, betrayal. They want to know if they even want that. They want to know if emotional gaps can be bridged, if sex lives can be reinvented, if old angers can be let go of, and old relationships can be healed.


I can't profess to know of course. But I can tell you that I've seen it. I can tell you that I have experienced it. I can tell you that yes, many things are possible. How it happens that things can go from bad to better, from pain to pleasure, from old to renewed, I'm not sure exactly (though there are many good theories and practices that apply). But if I had to name my top five starting points for bringing about healing, relief and renewal, I'd say they are these, in no particular order and without the theory for now:



~Willingness to talk: about yourself, your wishes, your feelings, your thoughts. Even if you don't know exactly what they are or where they will lead. Even if you are scared, skeptical, annoyed or angry.


~Willingness to look at yourself, your history, your patterns, your reactions. Gently and at whatever pace seems to work best. This too can be discovered over time.


~Understanding that the above does not always come as fast or as easily as we might like but it's worth a continued effort to keep at it. And sometimes slower is better.


~Understanding that you don't have to know exactly what you want or need before you begin.


~Understanding that most of what we do, conscious or unconscious is usually how we survive, and in that context our defenses that no longer serve us well - or that do still - are not comments on our self worth but just our humanity.














Monday, December 19, 2011

Compassion Never Grows Old

A few weeks ago I came across an article about Hedda Bolgar, a 102 year old psychotherapist who is still seeing clients, lecturing and studying the unconscious mind. Bolgar says that she is



"eternally fascinated by the unconscious, where she says pesky problems hide." She says that she loves to listen, to understand, even when people are not saying, or, I infer, don't exactly know, what it is that is bothering them, shaping them, effecting them. I am moved by this, by how it is that after decades of listening to emotional pain, to trauma, to confusing character issues, Hedda Bolgar is, in fact, glowing.


Instead of presenting to the world a cynical view of human nature, of the stubbornness of many psychological issues, Bolgar seems to exude a generosity of spirit and hope. That we do have an unconscious mind, that it is worthy of study, that much of what pains or troubles us, or gets in the way of our growth and progress can be discovered and healed through talking. I continue to like the message that we can take a look at ourselves without doing it harshly. That being understood and allowing all our feelings can open doors to better ways of feeling, coping and living.


The ability to talk, to consider new ideas, points of view, to study ourselves without lashing out at ourselves or others, to release our aggression in productive and not impulsively hurtful ways are not only hallmarks of resiliency and maturity, but outcomes of good therapy. In our quest to live and be better, I think Hedda Bolgar's message of consistency, dedication to the craft and compassion is a strong one.


In the age of the Internet and texting where people can anonymously discharge feelings, make connections without having to show up, can weigh in and click off, Bolgar reminds me of the staying power that is possible. And that being with ourselves, and with others in real time has endless value. And that compassion never grows old. We can study our actions, our motives, our histories, our psyches with a curious and gentle eye. And we can study those of others with the same compassion, even if we are hurt, or lost or frustrated or don't agree.


Our stories are worth telling, worth hearing and we need not know exactly where we are headed in order to start.





Monday, December 5, 2011

Forget It - I've Got Nothing (Getting Underneath Uninspired)

Here's how it goes sometimes in marriages, in our relationship with ourselves, with others, at work: Something just feels flat. We cannot (only) chalk it up to depression, or anger or even massive disappointment. So what then? What is going on with us - inside of us - when we feel utterly uninspired? Forget "lack of motivation," since that doesn't explain it exactly either. When asked we could say, sure, yes, I love my spouse - or the arrangement works for me somehow, therefor I am motivated to stay married. Or I am motivated to go to work because I need the money, or I care about the project in general. Or I care about my own well being, so I keep on keeping on.


Motivation can fall into the background, though it does keep us going through the motions of our lives and our relationships. What comes up in therapy a lot, though, is something deeper, something a bit more spiritual: Inspiration (or lack of it). A feeling of yearning combined with vision, passion. Being awake to deeper desires, callings, a sense of mission and meaning, some urgency even. It is this feeling that seems to get sucked out in the undertow of routine life. And many people give up trying to find it. "I've got nothing," is what they tell me, or "Forget it," which is almost always a catch all meaning "I feel way too frustrated, or I'll never be understood," or "It will take too much effort," "It won't be fast enough," or "Sometimes I really think I hate myself."


Does venting help? Sure I think it does. It feels good to get it out, to calm the anxiety, to get empathy, to have your feelings, even hopelessness and self hate resonate with someone. It helps unblock the road to inspiration, when you think you've got none.


We get caught up in what seems to be the drudgery of the same old same old. And we think that in order to become inspired, or re inspired, that things will have to be new. A new job, a new relationship, a new place. (And that can help, sure, for a time). We can't always keep changing up what we have or make things that are not new become new, but we can be open to making what we have good, or at least better. And to finding inspiration. We can be open to the idea that just because we can't make something new, does not mean that we cannot make it good - really good. Just because we think we are stuck in the same old same old does not mean we actually are. We can refuse to try, to talk, to open the door, or we can be willing. Yes, it may take a little while to get there, to find the inspiration. We may have to dig through some anger, some old stuff, find out why we are asleep in certain ways. We may need to be willing to not chalk it all up to hormones or depression or circumstance and take a different look. Is it worth it? I think so.

Monday, November 21, 2011

Were these said to you as a kid? Do you say them to your kids?

And if so, do you believe them? What kind of impact did they have? Do they have? Of course each of us receives messages differently, but it's always curious to me how much of an impact words and phrases do actually impact us. It may not in fact be true that sticks and stones may break our bones but words will never hurt us.

So here are a few phrases that many folks have heard as they were growing up:

"You made your bed...."

"You are not working up to the best of your ability."



"You can accomplish anything you set your mind to."

"You should have known better."

"You should be ashamed of yourself."



"Sorry doesn't cut it."

"You'll get what's coming to you."

"Chin up." or "Man up." or "Suck it up."

"Stop crying or I'll give you something to cry about."

"Don't let the bed bugs bite."

What to they mean? How to they play in our heads? Do we really have control over letting bed bugs bite? Does "chin up" mean we should not feel sad when we are sad? Should we pretend things don't hurt? Ignore our feelings? Will we really get what is coming to us? Does this mean that we deserve to be punished? That we should be frightened or worried? That mistakes are not allowed? Is saying we are sorry not enough? Ever?

When, and for what, should we really be ashamed of ourselves? And at what age should we know better? How can we know what we don't know? How much can children know anyway?

Can we really accomplish anything we set our minds to? If we can't, then what? Does this mean we are suppose to have control over things so long as we try? How do we know what the best of our ability is, actually? What if we don't want or need to work up to the best of it? Are we failing if we don't? How hard should we try? And what about that bed we made? Again, does this mean we are stuck with what we have? That if we've made a mistake we have no choices. That taking responsibility for our actions means we merit no empathy for errors or mess ups. Or no help getting to a better place?

I think that in the gentle study of human behavior, as we talk through our frustrations and fears, our hopes and longings, it helps to take a look at the words we have heard, to see what runs through our minds. It's a small part of the puzzle of our lives, but worth a look.

Monday, November 7, 2011

"I Should be Grateful...?"

Sometimes when someone is sitting here in the office talking about what's on their mind, talking about what's bothering them, they will stop and say, "I suppose I should be grateful, it could be worse." This always reminds me somehow of having to finish all the food on our plates because people are starving elsewhere in the world.


I think the statement raises some very good questions, such as where do gratitude and a true sense of what we "yes" have fit in with emotional pain and feelings of discontent in our lives? And can we be both grateful and unhappy at the same time? Can we appreciate our blessings and still honor our longings? And why is it that we often feel the urge to temper our feelings? Do we think we should not feel them?


I find these questions come up in the context of marital counseling as well. How do we manage to be appreciative of our partners while we are furious, or frustrated or disappointed with them as well? And also when we talk about our parents. Can we feel our difficult feelings toward them and appreciate the positives too?


How do we reconcile our values with our feelings?

I think the answers are individual of course, depending on our own unique character and circumstance, though there may be some common truths. While some of us are more comfortable feeling how we feel, letting our feelings rise and fall and be what they will, others are more hesitant. We get besieged by shame, or guilt or hopelessness, or the idea that perhaps we are not suppose to feel the way we do, or that there really cannot be any good outcome, or that since there are others who have it worse, our feelings should not be what they are. Except that they are. I have not found that denying our feelings solves much of anything. We can't always get relief as quickly as we might like, but keeping ourselves in the dark does not usually offer us good results. Neither does attacking our selves for the feelings we have. Nor does misusing gratitude.


That being said, I think that we can employ gratitude to help us with emotional pain without using it to invalidate our feelings. It does help to count our blessings, from the simple to the sublime. We can breathe clean air; We can see fall foliage; we can walk; even the basics, that are not so basic to everyone, can be starting points when we are in emotional pain; gratitude can certainly help put things in proper perspective and give us context. It can help us to feel better and see things differently.


But emotional pain is still pain. We still feel what we feel, and sidestepping feelings in the name of gratitude or using gratitude to avoid what is true for us usually just stalls our progress. So here's where the talking can help. We can let all our thoughts and feelings breathe; we can tend to them, see what they mean to us and make forward movement from there. The trouble, I think, is not feeling how we feel so much as it is attacking ourselves for feeling how we feel and then acting on the attack without having given ourselves a talking chance.

Monday, October 24, 2011

Shame

According to Wikpedia shame is "variously, affect, emotion, state or condition." In here, in my office, it's what sometimes comes up when unpacking feelings, events, memories, and things that have shaped us. It seems to be lurking sometimes, underneath anger, exhaustion, fear. It often gets mixed up with regret, remorse and rumination. It comes out often during discussions about actions and choices, past and present, relationships, fantasies and wishes. We are ashamed about all sorts of things.



Sometimes, we are ashamed about what we have done because of what someone else might think or expect of us, or what we think they would think or expect of us. Sometimes, it is our relationship with ourselves that brings it on, when we believe we have crossed over a line and nicked our own values, beliefs or self respect. Or when we think we are out of control in some way, or have made an unforgivable mistake.



And of course, many folks carry a lot of shame from the past, from childhood wounds or violations, from the actions of parents, from having bad feelings about actions of their parents. Shame can be confusing and painful all at once. And talking about it can be far from easy.




While some shame can be simple, uncomplicated and fleeting, from, perhaps, a passing thought, or a feeling we don't think we should have, the other kind of shame is deeper, darker and seems settled into the psyche. It is this kind of shame that requires more tenderness, more airtime, and more studying. We cannot just wish or ignore it away.



People often ask me, "so, what do I do with this feeling?" I don't think there is any one true answer. It does help to study it though, I think, a bit, before deciding what you might like to do with it. I think when a feeling is so bad, we tend to think we should or would like to just get rid of it, make it stop. But shame, like any feeling, can be put to good use. Getting rid of it may be the ultimate goal, but sometimes feeling it, considering what beliefs are holding it in place, and how it may help to move us out of a bad situation, or dangerous behavior can be helpful. Sometimes shame is blocking our self esteem. It may be standing in the way of genuinely good feelings about ourselves.




Sometimes, shame, like grief and anger, while difficult to bear, can be a connection to a person or time that we miss or long for, even when, confusingly, the situation caused us pain or trauma. Feeling shame can be a way punishing ourselves for something; we may be confused about what we really deserve, or what our role was. It may be a way of protecting ourselves from acknowledging the shortcomings or errors of others, or protecting them and ourselves from anger or disappointment. It may be a way of holding us back, if we are afraid to move forward in other ways.



When shame is a deep emotional imprint, it does not generally go away by instantly changing the thought behind it. It takes a bit more than that. It's not as simple as knowing that everyone makes mistakes, or that you are not the only one, or it wasn't your fault, though these may be helpful and true. It takes talking, and bravery and a willingness to reveal it, and then it can be decided what to do with it and why.

Monday, October 10, 2011

Single and Looking for Love...



Or at least a date?


You are not alone. Seems that meeting someone has become more tedious. Why is it that so many people are finding that it's so hard to meet the right (right-enough) person. The difficulty meeting someone seems not to be biased towards men or women. In my office, I work with singles of both genders who interestingly enough have many of the same concerns about how and where to meet someone these days.

Most have tried online dating, the bar scene, a meet-up or two. A few have tried speed dating, bachelor auctions. A bunch more have tried flirting at concerts, on cruises, and at the grocery store. Some venues, it seems, work better than others. And some singles tell me that they are decidedly biased against certain kinds of venues, and for a variety of reasons. Some say having to be proactive at all feels wrong, who wants to feel "desperate" enough to have to actually go looking for love. (Though feeling desperate and being desperate are not the same. Feelings are not always facts, after all). But many believe you shouldn't have to look. Love - initial meeting and all - should just happen.


I agree. It should. But it doesn't always. One of the things that many singles who venture out looking must face is the slamming loss of that fantasy. The deeply romantic wish that love would just happen. The romantic in me must tell you that I do believe that it does happen. But the pragmatist in me also must tell you that going out looking can help things along.


Someone told me recently that she decided that she would have coffee with 200 men. (Not at the same time). She tenderly took her perfect "how I will meet the love of my love" fantasy, and all the longing that went with it, and tucked it safely away in her heart, and made a list of every possible way to meet a man. She then picked the three "best of the bad" options and committed to having coffee with 200 men. She married number 162.

I know the bar scene can be tiresome. I know that online dating is risky. I know that speed dating can be daunting and frenzied. I know that it's hard to bump into all that potential rejection and disappointment, to have to put in time, emotion, hope and effort. It does seem easier to curl up with a good book, a cup of tea and your cat. And your fantasy.


I think though, that there is an aura to meeting someone. The things you try may actually yield results, or sometimes, just by opening one door, somehow, another door opens too. I do not pretend that this is easy, not at all. It can help to stay curious about what the options are, what it means to try them, how and when to stay the course and when to take a break. It helps to unpack what gets in the way of making the effort, everything from fear to frustration. Usually, there is quite a list. And to consider that there is a difference between waiting and preparing. Doing what is possible to learn about ourselves, about what has shaped us, what holds us back, what we really long for, can go along way towards new doors opening. And of course taking exquisitely good care of yourself by nurturing your friendships, your body, your spirit and your creative drives goes a long way toward helping your resiliency during the search, toward surviving loneliness when it bites, and toward fostering a strong sense of self, which you can carry with you when love does, at last, knock.