Suffering in Silent Desperation

Often people tell me when they come to talk that they'd been thinking about coming in for a while.  Sometimes for a long while.  Not everyone who decides to open a dialogue about their life or their relationships or their psyche has been suffering emotionally, but it's more common then you'd think.

We have  great resiliency and often think that we can go it alone, or that it's not so bad, or it will get better.  And things do, often.  Time has a way of healing us and moving us along.  But it's not always enough.  Many times people wait for their relationships to really crumble, for the emotional distance between them to grow so deep and wide that it's almost impossible to bridge it.  Sometimes we wait for something to shake us up or wake us out of our reverie, or we act out in ways that are vengeful, self harming or overly dramatic in order to get our message across or relieve the frustration, monotony or pain.  And sometimes we wait until resentment and doubt have grown so big that we cannot really see our way back.  We might move past wanting understanding and resolution and want revenge, escape, or both.

Sometimes moods dive, anxiety heightens and we just don't feel well.  But we keep on keeping on thinking something's got to give.  We tolerate loneliness, fear, frustration and depression, thinking that to start talking about it won't change things.  Or at least not fast enough.  We agree with ourselves to suffer, feeling desperate, but feeling bad about feeling so lost, as if trying to address things is some sort of admission of defeat instead of an act of strength and rightness.

In some ways, we almost like our suffering.  Not when it gets too dark, or too frightening, but just before that.  There may even be something noble in it.  And people often tell me, "well, it's not like I don't have food or running water.  I should be grateful."  As if this means their pain should not exist or they are being selfish for feeling their feelings.  (Gratitude and perspective is essential to emotional wellness, of course, but it does not negate pain).

We do have a responsibility I think, to ourselves, to take care of our suffering when it heats up.  We have to be curious about why we ignore it if we are ignoring it, or what really we are waiting for before taking action to make things better.  There are many choices.  Therapy, of course, but also, friends, books, support groups, personal growth classes, marriage retreats, 12 step programs, motivational seminars, wellness programs.  We don't have to go it alone, and we don't have to keep suffering in silence.

All You Have to Worry About Today is Fun

A friend of mine told me the following story.  She was at the beach last week, sitting in the froth and watching her kids run in and out of the ocean.  It was a classically gorgeous day on the Jersey Shore.  She was thinking about how good it felt to just be.  She was warm and happy and in that moment, totally serene.

And then her thoughts started in on her.  Lightly at first, her mind wandered from the sail boats on the horizon to what she was going to make for dinner.  Then she was thinking about what time they should head back home, and then she started thinking about her marriage, and then her job, and slowly her mood started to dive.

And as she started slipping out of the moment, a five year old boy who was building a sand castle a few feet away from her walked over to her out of the blue.  "All you have to worry about today is fun," he said, and then he turned and went back over to his sand castle.  My friend said that for a moment or two she thought she had imagined it.  It was hot, maybe she was hallucinating.  And she began to laugh, a slow, gentle, head nodding laugh. 

She wanted to know what to make of it.  What did I think?  So I think that sometimes we get messages in the most amazing ways, when we are open to them. We could, we decided, chalk it up to silly coincidence.  But the truth is that my friend suffers from chronic worry, rumination and a longing for more serenity in her life.  And for permission to take a break from the thinking and planning and straining and to just have fun.  So we decided not to chalk it up to silly coincidence- and to chalk it up to being a gift.  That there is a time and a place to think, to study life, to plan, to be with our feelings and thoughts and to review them, but there is a time to not.

And not is just as valuable. 

Of course worry and anxiety and rumination don't just evaporate because we decide they should.  Sometimes, we do have tend to them, unpack and honor them in orde to get relief, but I do smile at the idea that some days, all we have to worry about is fun.

Into Every Life a Little Pleasure Must Fall

It's almost August and I'm thinking about being out in the country on a tire swing with some lemonade, underneath an old oak tree.  Maybe riding my old Schwinn over some bumpy country roads and sitting out under the stars listening to the crickets.  Then again, maybe the beach.  Here in New Jersey you can get to both within a few hours at most.  One of the perks of living here, amidst all the pokes that the state takes.

For some folks, the winding down days of summer can offer up a time for reflection, for slowing down and taking stock.  For finding the sun and letting in some of the quieter thoughts about life and relationships and circumstance. 

Many folks live busy.  We work, take care of others, keep up our households, and tend to our relationships.  And we have our escapes.  But as August approaches I'm thinking about pleasure, not just vegging out, but what really gives us that sweet feeling of joy and enjoyment, with or without a rev.  A good book, a roller coaster ride, a walk on the beach, a concert in the park, a trip into the city, blueberry picking, a good tennis match, a baseball game.  It's really so personal and individual.  But I'm just putting it out there that as we go through the motions of living, and especially if you are grappling with emotional pain, relationship difficulties, job stress, transition of any kind, including some pleasure into your life goes a long way toward building resiliency.

Being Ignored

If you have ever been ignored or felt dismissed, you know that it comes with a certain kind of sharp emotional pain.  And if this pain resonates, chances are that its not a new pain.  Sometimes, emotional pain that we experience in the here and now is that much more painful because it steps on and awakens pain that we have experienced in the past.

It often helps to know the origins of the pain, as well as if and how we somehow set ourselves up to be hurt in some way.  It doesn't always make sense consciously, but sometimes we seek out the familiar because it is familiar, or because we want to heal it in some way, or because it has a certain secondary benefit to us that we are not fully aware of and may not be prepared to let go of.
Attaching ourselves to people who are not available, either physically or emotionally and seeking time or attention when they do not have it to give, leaving us feeling abandoned, unimportant or rejected is one example.
Attempting to please someone who is angry, critical or harsh, and then blaming ourselves when the person remains this way is another.
There are many more.
In here, in my office, as people talk about what they are missing in their relationships, their lives, often, the feelings that they have now are not new.  In the unpacking of emotions, we often find painful memories of emotionally absent parents, competitive siblings, even teachers who were harsh or dismissive or caused humiliation.
Having a parent who never showed up at a sporting event, or was depressed, or addicted, or ignored one child and favored another are common childhood experiences that shape how we feel about ourselves, our usefulness in and to the world.
And we need to feel useful.  We need to feel that we matter, that we are noticed.  That we are not small and insignificant and invisible. 
When don't feel like we matter, or something in our current relationship has us feeling neglected, unnourished or ignored, old pains and current ones can blend together leaving us spinning and unanchored.
It is so important to get in touch with these feelings, with our emotional memories and to reestablish ourselves and fortify ourselves to lead with our resiliency and continue to take good care of ourselves and our relationships.

Some thoughts on Grief

"Anyone who has ever grieved knows that grieving carries with it a tremendous wear and tear to the body itself, never mind the soul.  Loss is an assault; a certain exhaustion, as strong as the pull of the moon on the tides, needs to be allowed for eventually." ~ Elizabeth Stout in Abide with Me

Lately I've been hearing a lot of loss and grief in my office.  Loss of loved ones, loss of relationships, loss of jobs, health.  Other losses get talked about here too, like the loss of time, of years, of dreams or opportunies. The emotional pain that comes with loss can last a long time.  Since grief is not linear, it can take many routes and affect us in many different ways.  Those who know loss know that there is no one way of grieving. Some losses are more profound than others. Some loss is necessary in order for us to live and move forward.  We grieve loss even when we ourselves have initiated it, or know that it's for the best.

I think that part of living with loss is honoring the depth and scope of our feeling.  Good self care, talking, writing, movement, enveloping yourself with nourishment help us to function when the pain is relentless.  It is hard to see past the pain sometimes, but here in my office I have found that though many losses do not simply or ever disappear, they can change shape, yield meaning and be carried with us in ways that leave us well and resilient, even if we are not sure we want to be.

The loneliness that often comes with loss can leave us feeling like we are at a strange distance from our feelings, ourselves, and everyone else.  But finding a few safe places to touch base, to be understood, and to be heard can go a long way toward easing the worst of things, and bring us to new ways to live and keep going.  New thoughts, new hope and often, a new sense of who we are can emerge. 

We can let go, get swallowed up in the honesty of it, and come back again.  Maybe again and again.  And we can grieve and live.  It's like pushing a truck uphill in the mud sometimes, but it can be done. 

Connecting the Dots

“We must learn to regard people less in the light of what they do or omit to do, and more in the light of what they suffer.”   ~Dietrich Bonhoeffer

 
"How does he arrange (unconsciously) to have his wife disappoint him so often?" ~ Anonymous
 
Elizabeth Strout's Abide with Me, a moving tale of sorrow, hope and transformation reminded me of the first quote (Bonhoeffer is woven into Strout's story).  The second quote is one that I heard recently at a conference I attended on marriage counseling.  So what do they have to do with each other?  Truthfully, I don't fully know yet, but perhaps this:
 
In the talking that takes place here in my office, there is an attentiveness to both ideas, a coming together in the telling of one's own story that sheds a deeper light on why we are the way we are, feel the way we feel and do the things we do.  Perhaps underneath the pain that we know about is a pain that we do not yet fully know about.  And hand in hand with that are the patterns and feelings we experience that serve to protect us but somehow, in newer relationships, can deflect us from getting what we really want and need.
 
For example, a man who wants acceptance and support from his wife, but when she initiates sex, or tells him she loves him, in his mind, and sometimes outwardly to her, he dismisses her advances, is even annoyed by them.  His wife at some point stops initiating, and then he becomes disappointed and trouble spirals from there.  So does she have a role in this, surely,  but does he, as a colleague of mine asked at the conference, "arrange to have his wife disappointment him?" 
 
So on the conscious level, of course, if you reject someone often enough, they will stop trying.  But we could look a little deeper and as the man tells more of his story, we learn that he believes that his wife is only out for her own benefit.  He does not really believe she is being truthful when she seeks him out or reassures him, rather he is suspicious and doubting.  Why?  More of the story.  His experiences and emotional impressions as a child were not safe ones emotionally.  Often his mother expressed affection or interest in him only when she wanted something from him.  His father only expressed pride or claim to him ("this is my son") when he excelled at something publicly, in athletics.   Privately, his father was rarely home or attentive.  In order to protect himself from the disappointment of not feeling loved genuinely and for who he is, the man develops a skepticism and a distance from taking in love, even from a wife who is sincere.
 
Okay, so we all have mixed motives.  His wife most likely does want something from him, but she also most likely wants to give something to him as well.  But when he does not take in her affection and efforts, appreciate them, respond to them, he arranges in some way to discourage her, and then she backs off, and he becomes even more disappointed and unsatisfied.
 
There is more to the story, but it begins here, in connecting the dots between our past and our present, our unconscious, our desires and our behavior patterns.  And of course our feelings.  What do we suffer from?  What do those we love suffer from?  When we tell our stories, we can find out.  We can pepper the quest with grace and curiosity as we alter how we respond to ourselves and others, bringing new life into our narratives.
 

Stepping Stones, Not Stumbling Blocks: Toward Feeling and Being Vibrant and Alive

"I think that one of the prime motives for transgression is trying to beat back a feeling of deadness. And the deadness isn't the fault of the other person at all. It may be a slow progression of an atrophy that has taken place inside themselves." ~ Ester Perel, from an interview on Psychotherapy.Net on modern relationships, sexual satisfaction and individual and marital vibrancy.

Couples come into my office for a variety of reasons.  Sometimes their sex lives have tanked. Sometimes someone has gone outside the marriage for sex, love, or emotional connection.  Sometimes one or both are suffering or struggling with emotional pain that they just can't pinpoint.  Other times it because communication is at standstill, or there is lots of fighting, or lots of silence.  Sometimes there is a feeling of stagnation.  Nothing is really wrong, but nothing seems really right either.  Or they feel stuck in some way.
Of course there are so many good and workable ways to improve communication, to help partners step up, communicate in new ways and better meet each other's needs.  Talking and unpacking feelings, histories, patterns, ideas and fantasies are often integral parts of the process. 
But underneath it all, I think we strive for something different, for some kind of aliveness, vibrancy, and clarity of desire. 
What do we really want? And when we know, do we behave in ways that invite those feelings and that connection or that demand them and make what we want difficult to get.  Do we think that we should be able to act, look, say and do whatever we want and still get the kind of connection we  imagine and long for?  Do we have a healthy sense of separateness and well as connectedness in our relationships?  Are we willing to?  What expectations are reasonable and which ones are beautiful soothing fantasies?
How tuned in are we to our own role in things?  Our own aliveness?  Do we have the idea that there are villains and victims in a marriage and we are one or the other? Or that we are part of a culture of two in which our own character and behavior help shape the landscape?  Are we willing to look?  And to look gently, without attacking ourselves or our partners along the way? 
You don't have to be part of a couple to consider these ideas. Aliveness and vibrancy are good topics all around, and thinking about them can help put a new spin on emotional pain, on progress and meaning in life.  When we can view our relationships and the challenges they bring us as stepping stones, not stumbling blocks to our own vibrancy and aliveness, I think we and our relationships fare so much better.