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Hope Forward: Surviving and Thriving through Emotional Pain

Wednesday, November 7, 2012

Out of Power

I heard the following post Hurricane story today from a friend of mine.  He was relocating his elderly mother into a local motel after she had lost power in her home.   She could not stay with him because his house has many stairs and she is not able to manage them.   While he was helping her settle in, another elderly couple pulled up to check in.  They had their belongings in garbage bags and asked for help with their "luggage."  Being a motel, there was no help offered, so my friend took their bags (literally) and carried them to their room.  He helped them with the card key lock that has long since replaced metal keys. Since they had not stayed anywhere but their own home in many decades they were not familiar with the new door lock.

He said they were so deeply grateful for his simple good deeds, sending him looks of both gratitude and pleading.  He told them they could call him if they needed any further help and gave them his contact information.  Fortunately, their house survived the storm, but they were out of power still.  And it was getting cold, especially for them, with their frail bodies and limited mobility.

There are many stories emerging from the rubble of Hurricane Sandy. This one is not especially remarkable. Like the aftermath of many disasters, there are tales of pain and loss and sorrow and there are stories of fighting over necessities, like gas for heaters or food or safe drinking water.  And there are stories of selflessness, bravery and simple acts of kindness. 

New Jersey's governor Chris Christie said, in response to people topping off their gas tanks that you "can't legislate selfishness."  He might be right, but most likely he might have been more right to say that you can't legislate fear.  Because most likely it's fear that lurks underneath most selfishness.  Fear of not being safe, or warm, or healthy.  And fear pushes us to do things we might otherwise not be so inclined to do.  Not just during disasters, but often times during daily life and within the context of our relationships.  We often act out of fear for our emotional safety, though we are not usually aware of it on the surface. 

One of the many lessons coming out of yet another disaster is that we may be out of power literally over the environment, over other people, over our feelings and desires, but we are not always out of power about how to respond.  We can shine the flashlights on what we can do. 

The unremarkable small deeds go a long way. (Not to mention that most of us feel valued and helped when someone offers to carry our "bags" once in a while). The little things count.  They count when we do them in our relationships, when we do them for someone who needs a kind word, a smile or help carrying their bags.  Even as we study our own motives and make up, and when we are hurt, deprived or angry (and those feelings count of course) or edgy about the behavior of others, we most likely will come out much more resilient and content when we shine the light on our fears, and the fears of others and power on with compassion.

Monday, October 22, 2012

Angry and Hurt and Still In

"It is possible to be angry and hurt and stay in the relationship."  ~ A colleague of mine during a discussion on marriage.

She was not referring to abuse.  And how we define abuse can vary.  Our discussion was about this common dynamic between many couples:

The woman does not feel loved or loved enough.  The man does not feel respected or trusted enough. (And this plays a part in him not being able or willing to convey the right feeling to her).

Because she does not feel loved she may act in a way that feels
angering or criticising or distancing to the man.  The man then does not step up and show
love.  (He withholds loving words or actions or is less present or is mean).  The woman then feels hurt (and fearful too, often) and she lets him know it in ways that have the effect of  making him feel more angry or hurt or like a failure so he backs up even further.

Sometimes, all she wants is some kind words or simple actions.  Some reassurance that he does love her, that she is safe with him, that he wants to take care of their relationship, and of her.  That she and their relationship is his priority. Sometimes he needs some help knowing how to do this, and she does not want to have to spell it out for him.  She gets frustrated that he does not just intuitively know.  He feels like a failure for not knowing and he either backs up further or he gets angry and then withdrawals even further, giving her even less of what she wants.  Seemingly, this confirms her fears that she does not matter to him.

Often, women want or expect their man to continue to know how and to give them the loving feeling they long for even if the woman is doing or saying things that make the man feel angry, frustrated or hurt.  As if he should ignore his feelings (or not have them) and always feel like giving her the love she needs, no matter how she acts or what she says or does.

So that's one dynamic.  There are so many others of course.  (Stay tuned).  And what's the answer?  Well, in part, it's this:  We can survive feeling angry and hurt and work it out if we are willing to look not just at what our partner has done, or is doing wrong, or that hurts us, but what the dynamic is in the couple.  And it is possible to find relief by looking at what we long for and how we help ourselves get it or not get it.
And from there, how to help our partners step up so that everyone can get more of what they want and need.

We often have the idea that if we are angry, we cannot  stay.  That we cannot live with other people's character issues, mistakes or wrongdoings, that somewhere out there is a person who will not ever make us angry or neglect us or hurt us.  But often when we work on unpacking our longings, wishes and beliefs, we may find new ways of dealing with old ideas that leave us so much more fulfilled than we ever thought possible.  And we can save and nourish our relationships in a much deeper way.

Wednesday, October 10, 2012

Past and Present

"The past is like a school house; you go there to learn, not to live."  ~ Anonymous

I wish I could credit the person who told me this, because it's a great quote.  And here in the office the past does get visited quite a bit.  It is helpful to take a look at what has shaped us, what continues to shape us and what informs our values, character and desires.

Often, in the context of couples work, the past can be tricky territory.  We do carry with us old hurts, resentments,  feelings and experiences.  We also may be carrying with us old stuff that predates the old stuff from current relationships.  Meaning, that as relationships go, there is the stuff of the relationship itself, and its history, and the stuff of our childhood.  Sometimes, it all gets mixed together, even if it does not seem so at first.  Sorting it through can shed new light and lead to new progress both in our relationships and within ourselves.

Some brief simple examples:
Feeling repeatedly let down by one's husband might also link to feeling disappointed by one's father.
Feeling criticized by one's wife might link to feeling like one's mother was not always there for them.
Feeling suspicious of one's boyfriend may link to feelings about a parent's marriage or divorce.
Feeling out of control as a parent may link to feeling vulnerable as a child.
Feeling depressed may link to feeling ignored as a child.
Feeling anxious may link to feeling misunderstood or neglected as child.
And on and on, in so many different ways...

Knowing that our own past may influence how we respond or react and how we think and feel about our  partner, friends, bosses, children does not mean that they are not responsible for their behavior, actions, or character.  Or that our feelings are not right.  Both our current and past feelings are valid in their own right, and can often can shed light on each other and help us to learn about our deeper selves and to make our current lives better.

So when old hurts remain unexplored and unhealed, old resentments still cause us pain, fear, doubt and insecurity and anger, it's a sign that we are living somewhere in the past, either the past of our current relationship or the past of our childhood, or some combination of both.  If past pain is still present, still alive, we may have to decide to take a look and see what we need, what purpose it serves us to have the past still alive in us.  Does it help us or hinder us?  What can we learn? Will we feel better if can link things more clearly and understand more about what we need and how to get it?  I believe so.  I think the links lead to relief and release, to vitality and to better moods and better feelings and better relationships. 

Tuesday, September 25, 2012

Minding Your Ps and Qs

Sometimes saying nothing is saying something.

People often express to me that they would like to feel more useful, more effective, more potent.  More like they really matter.  In their relationships, their jobs, their communities.  I have been thinking about this theme lately and how it translates into feeling more connected, and that when we feel more connected, we feel better about ourselves, our lives, our purpose. 

One of the most defeating experiences that people tell me about is when they try to be helpful and it does not work.   When they feel rejected, misunderstood or distanced from someone they love or want to be more connected to.

In my office when we unpack and talk about the feelings that often go along with anger or anxiety, namely fear, we sometimes find that the roots run deep.  It does help to take a look at what the roots of these feelings may be and to talk it through.  But also, in the here and now, it can also be useful to find other ways to be and to feel useful.

One of those ways is to mind your Ps and Qs.  That is, minding Peacefulness, Quiet and Questions.  By this I mean, that sometimes, when we want to feel useful and connected, we need only to take a deep breath, and listen.  And then, when the moment seems right, to ask a question.  Not one that is harsh or demanding, but one that is wrapped in peaceful curiosity and interest.  One that suggests support and study.  Sometimes offering our patience and our quiet and an occaisional good question goes a lot further than anything else we can do or say.

Ps and Qs go along way toward fostering trust and love, connection and meaning in marriages, friendships, work relationships, even and especially with folks who may seem (or are!) difficult to communicate with or be around. 

It works too, with our relationship with ourselves, especially when we are feeling overwhelmed or lost in longing, anger or angst.  Sitting quietly, coming up with the occaisional gentle question,  asking first, before assuming a motive or offering advice.  Even to our selves.

It is hard to do when we are angry, or charged or hurt or afraid, (or right) but seeking to understand, offering understanding, asking questions with the intent to understand builds trust, usefulness and effectness.  It creates closeness and helps us to make progress towards building rather than breaking.  And this leaves us feeling much more effective and purposeful.

Wednesday, September 12, 2012

Stuck in Compulsive Worry

"There's what we do.  And then there is what we do with what we do." ~ A colleague of mine...

who has been in practice for many decades brought this idea back to me as we were discussing the nature of our work.  We were musing over such themes as mistakes, self-forgiveness, worry and sadness.  She was telling me about an awareness that she had a few years back while having lunch with her mother.  They were sitting at a very upscale Manhattan restaurant talking about the family, which her mom likes to do.   In the midst of the normal ebb and flow of the conversation her mother said easily, "Your sisters were always more accomplished than you.  I don't know why you could not be more like them."

My colleague said that at the time she just continued on with lunch and chit-chat, barely noticing the comment.  It was not until later that she sat back, quietly, in what she calls her "thinking chair" and marveled at the comment.  She, like many of us in the field of psychotherapy, had long been studying mother - daughter relationships, the deep and profound longing and linking that mothers and daughters have for each other, the spectrum of distance to connection, of approval seeking, dependence and individuating, the obvious effects that mothers and daughters have on each other, and the deep, subtle, but often powerful imprint and psychic shaping the relationship has for both, but most profoundly, a mother to a daughter.  And my colleague has spent many years studying her own relationship with her mother.

She knew that this remark was not consciously meant to hurt her.  Her mother valued law and medicine.  Her mother's own upbringing reinforced the value of these degrees as status and symbolic of success, security, safety, respect, and prestige.  So when one daughter became a doctor and one an attorney, my colleagues mother filled with pride and relief. 

What stood out to my colleague that day at lunch was this though:  Somehow in all of her own success in her own career, and her own graciousness toward her own mistakes and foibles, she still worried a lot, much of the time in fact.  And she realized in that moment that while there are many truths, many pieces to the puzzle of the human mind, psyche and feelings, that one piece for her, concerning her worrying was this message.  It was this voice that she had imbued, internalized, taken as her own that lived in her, quietly on a conscious level, but very much at work underneath the surface.

This was not a "blame your mother" moment.  Not at all.  She had long since made peace with the gifts and disappointments of her relationship with her mother.  Rather, she recognized that the worrying she did was her loyalty to that relationship.  It was a carrying on of the culture that was familiar to her.  Because underneath the feeling of worry, were thoughts and beliefs at work.  Her own mother's fear that she was not good enough, not doing enough, that there would not be enough, that things could and might at any moment go wrong.  That one should not feel secure or positive lest one be knocked off guard unprepared.  The worry, in part, was her connection to her mother, her likeness to her, complicated as that seemed at times.

Of course, there is always more to the story.  And when it comes to being stuck in compulsive worry (or sadness for that matter - more on that one day too), there are many things we can do to get relief.  There are behavior techniques, there are thought changing and meditation techniques, there is wide variety of practical things to do, and of course, talking.  But there is also the look back.  The understanding of what might be going on underneath the surface.  Sometimes along with the worry there is anger, fear, insecurity, self doubt.  And it takes a bit of talking it through and letting it out to get to a better place.  When we are stuck and the obvious is not working, or working well enough to bring relief, it helps to dig a bit deeper and stretch into understanding whose voice it really is in our head, or what combination of voices, what we may be tied to and why.  When we unpack our minds a bit, it often leads to a deeper more steady sense of self.  It makes our relationships better and helps us to move forward in ways that feel right, calm and good.


Monday, August 27, 2012

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.

Monday, August 13, 2012

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.