Tag: emotional

  • I’m Not Sorry for My Tears: A New Movement

    I’m Not Sorry for My Tears: A New Movement

    “Do not apologize for crying. Without this emotion, we are only robots.” ~Elizabeth Gilbert

    A few nights ago, I was at a groovy, loud Mexican restaurant with some friends. In between sips of spicy margaritas and bites of chips with guac, I was talking with one of my friends privately about her latest struggles. She was confiding in me that she was still quite emotional about losing her mom.

    Although it had been two years, she still found herself crying alone and in front of others when she talked or thought about her mother. She mentioned that the week prior, someone at work had asked her a question about her mom and, upon answering, tears had started to flow freely. Then, she was embarrassed and quickly took her hands to her face to wipe the tears and started apologizing profusely.

    “I’m so sorry!” she quipped. “I did not anticipate getting emotional. I apologize for the tears.”

    This stopped me in my tracks. I was literally stymied by it all right then and there. I thought about this, and it hit me. What the heck is wrong with our society? Wait, don’t answer that. There are way too many things, but I’m referring to this one in particular.

    Why do we apologize when we cry? It absolutely should be the opposite. Crying is opening one’s heart and soul. It’s being vulnerable. It’s being real, open, and in touch. It’s exactly what we’re supposed to do when we’re hurting. We are purging ourselves of our sadness with our tears.

    When my boys were little and they would burp or fart, I would always say, “Better out than in,” and this is the same. Better out than in. Let them go. Release the flood. Cry your eyes out. And, for the love of all of us, do not apologize.

    Instead, I propose we start a movement. Instead of apologizing, how about we do the opposite? Upon tears starting to fall, how about saying, “I’m not sorry I’m crying”? This is taking our power back. It’s taking pride in knowing that you are being real, vulnerable, and open.

    My best friend is a therapist. I discussed this with her, and she told me that almost every time a client cries, they apologize to her. Think about that. They are paying her quite a bit of money so that they can be “seen,” and they tell her they are sorry for crying. She told me that she always tells them to never apologize for crying, but that generally doesn’t stop them from saying it in each subsequent meeting.

    After realizing the glaring phenomenon of apologizing when the tears start to flow, I noticed it everywhere. It was exemplified in every reality show on TV, as these seem to be prime platforms to cry. Every single time I witnessed someone crying, they uttered the words, “I’m sorry… ugh, so sorry…” as they tried to compose themselves. I could see the embarrassment in their faces and their mannerisms.

    I also attended a funeral recently and noticed that every time someone relayed a story to me and started to cry, the next words were always “I’m sorry.” It is ubiquitous. I have never been around someone or seen someone on a show or movie say, “I’m not sorry. I’m not sorry for showing you my heart, opening my soul, and being vulnerable.”

    Think about how you feel when you’re with someone who begins to cry. For me, I completely soften inside. No matter what the circumstances. Even if I am mad at the other person, I don’t like them that much, or I don’t know them very well.

    The moment someone cries in my presence, I melt a little inside. Whatever guard I had up, whether it was big or small, it comes down. I truly see them as a feeling soul who just happens to be human. I am drawn to them. I feel connected. I want to be closer to them.

    I am also a bit honored that they feel safe crying in front of me. I feel a little special, even if that is totally unintentional on their part. I feel like they are letting me in and showing me more of who they are.

    So, after coming up with this new manifesto, I knew I needed to start practicing it and see how it felt. It came up two days later. I was telling my husband about a memory I had about his dad, who had recently passed, and in this tender moment, tears started to fall.

    I fell into my rote way of thinking and feeling and quickly apologized.

    “I’m sorry I’m getting emotional,” I said, and then I remembered. Oh shoot, nooooo, not that. So I course-corrected. “I’m not sorry, I mean.”

    The funny thing is that I’m certain he didn’t even notice my backpedaling. I, however, did. I noticed that it felt better to say I wasn’t sorry. It gave me agency. I didn’t feel weak. I felt power in my words and in my tears. And it’s not even about power; it truly is about being real and honest.

    There is power in being completely transparent. Life is hard, and our hearts break a little and a lot, and sometimes often. It is our opportunity to truly live the human experience. To cry is to be human. There is no reason to apologize for being human. Let it go. Let it all out with gusto, and then stand strong and say, “I’m not sorry I’m crying” and see how that feels.

    I’m not sorry.

  • Eating Too Much While Working from Home? How to Solve Emotional Snacking

    Eating Too Much While Working from Home? How to Solve Emotional Snacking

    “We eat the way we eat because we are afraid to feel what we feel.” ~Geneen Roth

    Sometimes I feel like asking me, a recovering overeater, to work from home is as unreasonable as hoping a sex addict will pen a report from the lobby of a brothel.

    Snarky email? Feel annoyed. Get Penguin bar from cupboard.

    Meeting over? Feel relief at no longer being on camera. Eat Wagon Wheel from cupboard.

    Worked hard today? Need a reward. Wait, who ate all the kids’ lunchbox treats? Never mind, people, all good: I found the cheese.

    This was me when my desk moved from an office full of doctoral researchers to the corner of my living room.

    Some people would say I was emotional eating, or “stress eating.”

    But I didn’t recognize myself in that description.

    Where was the stress? I worked for a university: plenty of holidays, flexible hours.

    And although I hated the way I ate, I didn’t feel anything dramatic about work.

    Looking back, yeah, I had the odd frustrating collaboration, a smidge of self-doubt, a bit of trying to make myself do a spreadsheet while believing “I’m not a spreadsheet person.”

    I treated these low-level doubts and insecurities as insignificant because, like we all are, I was a professional at ignoring them.

    What I couldn’t ignore, though, was a twenty pound weight gain.

    So I tried to eat better food.

    For instance, I banned chocolate from the house, put the kids on school lunches, and got the bread machine making wholemeal bread.

    Unfortunately, the problem didn’t vanish: After working my way through a whole fresh baked loaf with butter one rainy Zoomtastic Wednesday in November, I just felt gross and out of control.

    Then came the self-criticism. “I’m weak. I can’t stop.” That made me want to eat even more.

    I was stuck in a vicious circle. But my vicious circle was like a half-moon: I could only see the half that involved stuffing my face.

    Then one day, something happened in my work life that woke me up to what was really going on when I was eating.

    At my work, we had to complete an annual professional development review. It was like a form I had to fill out about my strengths, weaknesses, and progress goals that my line manager and I both signed off on.

    I put it off. For days, I ate dry granola standing up in the kitchen. I invented a weird mousse, made of creme fraiche stirred with tons of cocoa powder, honey, and lemon essence. I mixed and ate it multiple times a day.

    When I finally tried to fill the form out, I fell apart. I felt my weaknesses were so glaring, and that I was such a productivity lost cause, that I cried and cried.

    The unavoidable issue was, although I got results by throwing creativity and enthusiasm at my job, I was hopeless with time management and focus.

    I phoned my line manager and told him everything (except the food part) in one outpouring.

    He was a total star. Kind, receptive, unfazed.

    He proposed a new daily practice…

    Planning.

    Urgh!

    The idea was to plan my time every twenty-four hours, in my calendar.

    It was a complete disaster. Every day, I’d veer wildly off-plan.

    For instance, I’d aim to spend two hours producing slides for a presentation but end up reading research papers. Then I’d do my best work for the half hour before school pick up and arrive to the school gate late again.

    Luckily, writing on my daily schedule became my new favorite procrastination tool: Even if I’d done nothing, at least I could evaluate why.

    So I started noting, alongside my schedule, what I actually ended up spending my time on.

    And I didn’t just write down the activity, either; I went further. I wrote my rationale for getting sidetracked.

    Total. Game. Changer.

    For each sidetrack, I wrote down the exact words I’d been inwardly telling myself, to make whatever had overtaken the priority seem so important in that moment. (My manager never saw this part, so I could be really honest with myself).

    And there they were, in black and white! All the visits to the kitchen. All the thoughts and feelings behind the eating, made visible.

    Since this was about time management, it gave me some objectivity on the eating issue.

    This time-tracking activity was surfacing data about my eating behaviors, but unlike other attempts to track my eating, this time it wasn’t about my body, my weight, or my self-worth. Cold, hard info neutralized my outrageous, shameful eating habits just enough for me to be intrigued by what the hell was going on in my head.

    That information led me to these learnings that I’m about to share with you.

    Insights that completely revolutionized my emotional eating. I’m going to show you a perspective shift, an understanding, a tool, and a strategy.

    These four things completely took me by surprise but had been under my nose all along.

    Tools that help me to continue to unlearn my emotional eating as it relates to work.

    Simple techniques that have helped me get healthier and more productive, and waste less of my energy hating myself for having snacked randomly all day.

    So, if you’re feeling like food is calling you from the kitchen all day long, and you fear you’re just someone who needs to be in an office to function, think again.

    These discoveries are going to help you let go of your urges and make all working environments an option.

    Seriously, if working at the kitchen table can be safe and doable for me, it can be for you too.

    1. A perspective shift: People don’t make you feel things; your thoughts do.

    Some days, I blamed my boss for my eating.

    For instance, she’d pick holes in my idea… I’d feel discouraged… Damn, now I’d polished off half a loaf of banana bread.

    But she didn’t make me feel bad; my thoughts did.

    I was making her criticism mean something about me: “I’m useless at my job and I’ll never get recognition.”

    Until I wrote them down, those sentences ran all day beneath my awareness, so of course I felt inadequate and cheesed off!

    We don’t notice our thoughts until we externalize them by speaking them out loud, or writing them down.

    We swim around in them all day. It’s like being a fish that doesn’t know it’s in water.

    2. An understanding: Feelings are physical.

    When I felt tempted to go to the kitchen, it felt like a physical compulsion to walk there.

    Like my body was a puppet, and the food was a puppet master.

    I realized that feelings like urgency and self-doubt make my body especially restless. Jittery, insecure.

    With a feeling coursing through me, my body literally did not want to stay seated at my desk. It wanted me to walk, move, shake off the crawling feeling.

    That’s when the penny dropped that all emotions are bodily experiences.

    Not just the extreme emotions: butterflies in your tummy, needing the bathroom before appearing on stage, or feeling like you’ve had a double espresso when you’re in love.

    But also, low-level challenging emotions that normally reverberate in our bodies but are somewhat under our radar: boredom, confusion, slight overwhelm.

    3. A tool: Change your thoughts on paper.

    So now that I was noting my justifications for going to the fridge, I could see that my body’s restlessness was ramped up and my eating was given the go-ahead by the exact sentences I was running in my head.

    Let me show you an example.

    Thoughts about the task: “I don’t know where to start.” “This communications plan is just a formality; nobody will read it.” Feelings: Daunted. Hopeless. Draggy low energy. Justification for eating dark chocolate: “I’m tired, this’ll wake me up.”

    With this understanding, I was able to make changes before the urge to eat even arose.

    Instead of thinking downer thoughts and then believing food would pick me up, I could purposely say more encouraging sentences to myself to create motivated and confident feelings.

    Except how? How could I think a new thought? Um, just think it?

    Since writing things down was working for me, that’s what I kept doing.

    I remembered revising for exams, when writing things over and over was my go-to revision method.

    “Getting this done now will make my future life simpler.”

    “I’m phenomenal at coping with my workload.”

    Try writing it down right now!

    “My work is a valuable contribution to the world.”

    Imagine believing that was true.

    When I discovered that, I was like: Mwah ha ha ha! I have the power to control my feelings!

    4. A strategy: Surf your urges.

    Journaling helped me nip some of my triggers in the bud.

    But what about when I was already in the kitchen, or boiling the kettle, and the urge to browse the cupboard was already upon me?

    Once an urge had hit me, I felt like eating was the only way to quiet it.

    But now I had a new perspective on emotions as being physical, and I realized that urges are the same. Urges are just emotional desire. Restless desire in the body.

    I also realized that I already let urges and desires come and go every day without acting on them.

    For instance, I hadn’t acted on the urge to send a sweary, irate email to management for making me repeat an onerous online training I had done twelve months earlier. No brainer: Being rude would cost me my livelihood.

    I just composed it in my head, had a rant to my husband, and then it passed. My body was inflamed with it for a bit, but after a while the sensation subsided.

    So I wondered: What’s the equivalent for the urge to eat?

    I noticed: When I have the urge to eat, my neck feels tight. I feel unsettled. Graspy.

    It’s laughable really. When I feel compelled to satisfy an urge to go eat peanut butter on toast, I really just want to dissipate a fleeting tension in my neck?

    Try it. Two minutes.

    The even better news is, after a few days of letting urges come and go, they stopped coming so thick and fast.

    So, friend, you don’t need to go back to the office to escape your compulsions.

    And there’s nothing wrong with you for having them.

    Our brains form habits to help us get through the day. They are just learned ways of coping with the emotional terrain of working life, and if I can learn better ways of coping, guaranteed you can too.

    We put a lot of ourselves into our work lives, and work requires more of us emotionally than we give ourselves credit for.

    It takes intentionality to not use food, Netflix, checking Facebook, and anything else that’s easy and mind-numbing to take the edge off the tougher feelings, and there’s nothing wrong with that.

    It takes a willingness to feel our feelings bodily, which is a skill we can cultivate.

    So please go easy on your lovely, hard-working soul. Be patient. You’re doing a great job of being you.

    And next time you’re staring vacantly into the cupboard while the kettle boils, remember you’re not alone. I’m learning this too.

  • Are You Highly Emotionally Reactive? You May Be Stuck in Survival Mode

    Are You Highly Emotionally Reactive? You May Be Stuck in Survival Mode

    Survival mode is supposed to be a phase that helps save your life. It is not meant to be how you live.” ~Michele Rosenthal

    Childhood is the most cherished time for many. However, nobody gets to adulthood unscathed. We all go through incidents with our friends, family, and at school or otherwise that leave us feeling emotionally bruised or scarred.

    Growing up in a household where my parents were busy raising three kids and working hard to better their economic status, somewhere along the way I felt neglected. Not that they did anything intentionally, but I was often plagued, even overwhelmed, by feelings of being misunderstood, lonely, not good enough, and generally not deserving.

    It was only after years of people-pleasing, choosing a wrong master’s degree, and climbing the corporate ladder with a great job that the suppressed feelings erupted like a volcano. The result? It made me physically sick with allergies, constant body aches, and rashes that didn’t allow me to sleep, pushing me to a complete breakdown.

    That’s when I realized that my body was trying to talk to me. It had been giving me warning signs since childhood.

    I used to cry a lot, and hence was called sensitive. I was often sick, and my parents called me a “weakling.” I would scream and shout or just shut down and recede into my room. Either way, they told me to not be so reactive. It became a vicious cycle of feeling overwhelmed and then hating myself for not behaving in a normal way.

    Back to my breakdown in adulthood, lying on the floor sobbing, I decided that I wanted to quit my job and pursue psychology. It wasn’t an easy ride from there, but nevertheless studying this subject helped me answer why I was the way I was.

    It turns out I wasn’t overreactive or sensitive at all. I was in survival mode, and my body and mind perceived everything as a threat. My body tried to keep me safe from anything remotely different by putting me into a fight, flight, or freeze state. My mind was generally hypervigilant of others’ moods and reactions. So, my body didn’t know how to relax, and it was exhausted over the years.

    Our bodies are designed to tackle threats and then move back into a relaxed mode. However, when our minds are unable to process, regulate, or tolerate huge emotions, they go into an “always on guard” mode to protect us. However, the protection turns into our own enemy when we can’t turn off the alarm bells, and we end up living with anxiety.

    The cherry on top is that we often live in this state for so many years that it starts feeling normal and comfortable. We then crave drama and attract friends and partners that trigger us, only to go into a tailspin, which keeps us feeling emotionally charged.

    But there’s a way out. It takes effort and courage to rewire our mind and body to function optimally and to live a more fulfilling life, but it is possible.

    Everybody’s journey is unique, and we must all find out what works best for us. However, here are a few things that worked for me. I sincerely hope that they might be of help if you resonate with my experiences.

    1. Remind yourself that you can handle whatever happens.

    When we’re in survival mode, we create unhelpful stories in our heads and forecast the worst possible outcomes as a means to keep ourselves safe. The key to releasing our fear-based need to protect ourselves is accepting that we can’t control everything. No amount of worrying can ensure that nothing hurts us.

    All we can do is address what’s within our power and then consciously choose empowering thoughts. Remind yourself that even if things don’t work out as you planned, you can handle it, and you’ll be safe.

    2. Rewire your brain through awareness.

    Regularly ask yourself if your thoughts are creating your emotions or your emotions are creating your thoughts. You’ll be amazed to realize that our mind creates statements that cause us to feel a certain way.

    For example, if a friend doesn’t respond back to a text/call, you might make up stories about how maybe you said something to upset them or that something is wrong with them, and that elicits emotions in you accordingly. If you think they’re just busy, you’ll feel differently. So practice becoming aware of your stories so you don’t go into panic mode over thoughts that likely aren’t facts.

    3. Scan your body.

    Your body speaks in subtle ways. Always check in to know how you are really feeling. Is there tension somewhere? Is your heart beating faster? Is your jaw tight? When you’re curious about your physical sensations, you’ll start to recognize when you’re emotionally charged from reacting to a perceived threat. This enables you to proactively calm your nervous system—perhaps through deep breathing, petting your dog, or getting out in nature.

    4. Be compassionate toward yourself.

    It isn’t an easy journey, and you must be compassionate toward yourself. You’ve done your best to survive, and now it’s time to become conscious so you can thrive.

  • What Your Anger Is Trying to Tell You and How to Hear It

    What Your Anger Is Trying to Tell You and How to Hear It

    “When we embrace anger and take good care of our anger, we obtain relief. We can look deeply into it and gain many insights.” ~Thich Nhat Hanh

    It just took a few words from my husband before I felt my body move from calm to a boiling cauldron of rage. My whole being was alight, in flames. Energy felt like it was moving through me and shattering everything inside me.

    I hated it. Anger is so intense, and so big, that most of us can’t bear to feel it in our bodies.

    I wanted to do a lot of things—shout at him, throw things, scream the house down, offer rageful thoughts to anyone who would listen.

    I wanted this anger out of my body. NOW.

    In the past I have reacted to these inner sensations and launched arguments that could last hours or even days. I would rarely get anything other than anger back from my husband, and a continuous wrangling over who was wrong and why.

    It was painful and corroding to our relationship, feeling like a bomb would go off and we would spend days dealing with the damage.

    Until I learned that the source of my anger wasn’t my husband. Or my kids, or that person on Facebook, or politicians or corrupt business people.

    The source of my anger wasn’t outside of me, but within. And it was situations that were activating this anger. Until I learned how to deal with the anger, it would keep coming up over and over again, in ways that felt too overwhelming and painful for me.

    I was suppressing anger most of the time because I didn’t feel safe letting it out, but when it did come out it felt too strong and too damaging. It felt repulsive, overwhelming, dominating.

    Boiling rage. Painful flames of righteous anger tearing through my body. A sensation that the anger was smashing bits inside me.

    Anger is a hard emotion for most of us to feel. It’s got so much energy, so much force, so much intensity to it. And as an emotion, if we express anger, we usually get the most negative response back.

    Anger is frightening. It’s unbearable to hear, it sends shivers through us if we walk past someone angry and fuming.

    But when we suppress anger, when we don’t allow it to come up it gets trapped in our bodies, the energy of it creating havoc inside. For me it felt like it was trapped in my jaw, which was so often sore from clenching and squeezing my muscles.

    I didn’t want to feel overwhelmed by anger anymore. I wanted to be a woman who could be with it, feel it, and not explode or fall apart or trap its tension in my body.

    I started to become intimate and friendly with my anger. I started to recognize when it was coming up in my body—in small doses sometimes, activating minor annoyances in my life.

    “Oh, anger! There you are, I see you lurking there in the shadows.”

    And the times when I would feel a huge surge of it in my body, when my kids would say something, or I’d receive an unpleasant email or read something on Facebook.

    “Oh, lots of anger here now! Okay, I see your anger. You’re here, I understand.”

    And by noticing when it came up inside of me, I began to see how often it was a thread in my life. And by noticing it I started, in a small way, to provide some relief for myself.

    The thing that I would then do, which made such a beautiful and healing difference, especially when huge surges of anger came my way—like when my husband said that thing and I wanted to shout shout shout at him—is to give myself time, space, love and support

    I stay with myself and don’t react externally.

    I don’t blame what I see as the source of my anger, but really isn’t.

    I tend to myself with a loving touch of my heart. (When touch on the body lasts over twenty seconds it releases oxytocin, the love hormone.)

    I give myself loving words—Di, I see this anger is really painful. It’s so big, so overwhelming.

    I ask myself, where is this in my body, how is it feeling?

    All of this attention on myself, at my reactions and how I am feeling, gives my body the signal that I am being deeply and lovingly cared for. I am safe to feel this feeling.

    I might do some relaxing breathing, giving a short inhale, followed by a long exhale which activates the rest-and-relax mode.

    I stay with myself as long as the emotion is there. “I’ve got you, Di! I can be with you through this feeling. I love you, Di.”

    And if I need to move and do something to help the energy pass through me, I do. I go for a walk, smash some rocks, squeeze or punch a pillow.

    Why this is so very important, why this makes so much of a difference in how we handle our emotions, is that it gives us the chance to let the energy of the emotion pass through. And when we do this repeatedly, we teach our system that emotions like anger are safe to be experienced, that we can hold and support ourselves through what life brings us.

    It also doesn’t make the situation worse by exploding at the person who may or may not have said or done something you didn’t like.

    If this is a situation that needs to be sorted out, if what was said or done needs discussion, it is infinitely more effective to wait for your anger to move through you until you are out the other side, than to talk to someone when you are in a rage.

    That’s because you are highly likely to activate their anger, as anger in others can feel like an attack on ourselves.

    And when we are deeply emotional, we can’t truly hear and empathize with other people, so we are just giving a speech, which the other person can’t hear if they’re also emotional!

    We risk escalating the situation further by saying and doing things we deeply regret. And, of course, we can also put ourselves in danger.

    If we want to be truly heard by someone, and if we want to create change, we have to wait until the emotion has passed. Then we have the best possible chance of coming to a positive agreement with someone else about what we didn’t like or want.

    Anger, like all emotions, can give us a unique understanding of what needs we have that aren’t being met. When we see the roots of what has activated the anger, we can see that there are often unmet needs to explore.

    For me, after that big rageful explosion, after I moved through the flames of anger and out the other side, I saw that I wanted more private space for myself to work uninterrupted so I could fully concentrate.

    It was a need I had been thinking about on and off for a while, but that I hadn’t really realized that it was upsetting me. It gave me the sense that I was last on the priority list as everyone else in the family had a space for private time.

    And so seeing that, I could then work on meeting that need, and reducing the chances of anger being activated around that subject again.

    Anger, what are you trying to tell me? I asked, and it told me.

  • How to Tame a Worrying Mind During Difficult Times

    How to Tame a Worrying Mind During Difficult Times

    EDITOR’S NOTE: You can find a number of helpful coronavirus resources and all related Tiny Buddha articles here.

    “Mental health is just as important as physical health.” ~Unknown

    Our main focus during this challenging time is quite rightly on our physical well-being. But we shouldn’t forget about our mental health considering these are stressful times for all of us.

    Will we get sick?

    Will our loved ones die?

    Will we have enough food to feed the family?

    How will we pay the bills?

    Will things ever get back to normal?

    So many questions, so many worries.

    Worrying used to keep me awake at night. It occupied every space of my mind during every waking minute. I always felt on the edge of a nervous breakdown. I didn’t feel like I could handle life at all.

    My life was like this for many years until I began to understand myself better. I healed my past traumas and learned to respond to myself in effective and compassionate ways.

    Some of what I’ve learned has helped a great deal during this time of uncertainty and unpredictability. This has resulted in me experiencing great mental health with well-balanced moods, resilience in the face of challenge, and solid emotional regulation skills.

    And let me tell you, I was pretty much the opposite extreme before, so these mental health secrets really do work. I want to share them with you so you too can benefit, because emotional well-being can help see us through the challenges that lie ahead.

    Mental Health Booster #1: Be Present

    When I used to worry and cripple myself with anxiety, I was caught up in my head. I followed every thought like a puppy chases a squirrel. It was too tempting, and I couldn’t resist it. One fearful thought led to another, and down the slippery slope of worry I went. I never landed anywhere pleasant.

    Being caught up in my mind meant that I wasn’t present enough to pay attention to myself, so I didn’t know how I felt or what I wanted. I was just stressed out of my mind while staying stagnant in my life.

    Being caught up in your head right now probably looks like worrying about your health or someone else’s, watching the news and feeding your mind with more and more scary updates. Maybe you can feel that you’re spiraling and your anxiety is increasing. Maybe you’re obsessively following the media coverage and forgetting about everything else.

    These are examples of not being present.

    Being present means being fully in the moment. It’s not being distracted but engaging with what is.

    So instead of filling my mind with worrisome news, I tend to what is going on right in front of me. I may play with my baby, cook for my children, or take a warm bath. In this way, I am there both physically and emotionally, which helps me to stay out of my head.

    During challenging times, I pay particular attention to any distress signals like shallow breathing, feeling shaky, or having a tight chest. I no longer see them as something additional to worry me but rather as signs that alert me to take a break.

    I pause and get still. I start to be there for myself.

    I reconnect with what is going on around me. I ground myself in my body. I focus on my breath.

    I slow down. I get present.

    Then the anxious voices in my heads, my little worry warts, begin to fade away.

    Mental Health Booster #2: Feel and Validate Your Feelings

    We all experience an increase in uncomfortable feelings during challenging times. If we have to stay at home, there are fewer distractions to take our mind off fearful thoughts and difficult emotions.

    We can easily find ourselves overwhelmed by our feelings.

    I remember many times in my life when it felt like the walls were closing in on me while something horrifically painful inside me was trying to break out. I felt hot and panicked. I didn’t know what to do and worried that I was losing my mind.

    I had been avoiding and fighting my feelings for so long that I didn’t understand them. I feared them. I used all my energy and effort to suppress them, but every now and then, during challenging times, I couldn’t keep it up

    The additional stress was simply too much.

    One day I read that we were meant to feel our feelings. Wait, WHAT!?

    Mind. Blown.

    I had been fighting my feelings and running away from them all my life, and now I was being told that if I ever wanted to get better, I had to feel my feelings.

    So I started letting them happen. It wasn’t comfortable and it wasn’t easy, but it was worth it because I realized resisting my feelings was what actually made it all so painful.

    I learned that I had to stop telling myself that I shouldn’t feel how I was feeling, that I was being ridiculous, that I was too sensitive, and so on. I was invalidating myself. I was shaming myself for feeling whatever I was feeling.

    I was making myself wrong for feeling all the time. No wonder I felt overwhelmed when experiencing something I had judged as shameful!

    Invalidating our feelings is harmful to our mental well-being. It erodes our self-esteem and leaves us feeling broken and defective. It makes us disconnect from ourselves, and we begin to make all the wrong choices because we no longer know how we feel and what we want.

    Staying mentally healthy during difficult times requires you feel your feelings and allow yourself to process them, which means not fighting or avoiding them.

    It also means that you have to learn to validate your feelings. This involves you normalizing and empathizing.

    You do this by telling yourself that it’s okay to have this feeling, and that any human with the kinds of thoughts you’re thinking or the kind of experience you are having would feel how you’re feeling. Tell yourself that it’s okay. That in itself is reassuring.

    For example, most recently I have been experiencing fearful thoughts about the health of my loved ones. I worry that they’ll get sick, or worse. Instead of fighting my worry,  I validate my fears and soothe myself.

    I can see that it’s perfectly natural to worry about losing those you love and that the anxiety I experience is a result of these kinds of thoughts. My anxiety is therefore perfectly normal considering the circumstances, and I don’t have to see it as a problem, which in itself is reassuring and decreases my anxiety.

    Mental Health Booster #3: Engage with Something Meaningful

    When we learn not to make our feelings problems, it creates the space we need to engage with something meaningful, something that matters to us, something that brings us joy.

    And what is really important for our mental well-being during difficult times is to engage in something meaningful for us.

    We can choose something fun, something silly, something creative, something lighthearted. We can come up with new projects or can focus on being productive in some way. We can improve our relationships by having some fun or being caring toward each other. We can play with our kids.

    Whatever it is, choose something. Get present and engage with it.

    It will take your mind off things. It will give you a break.

    Don’t let a difficult situation confine and restrict you.

    This isn’t about denying or avoiding the realities of a difficult situation. It’s about preserving the mental energy needed to deal with it in the most effective and compassionate way possible.

    And a big part of preserving our mental energy and health is maintaining a sense of purpose in the face of a crisis.

    This is something most of us have in common: We all want to feel that we are useful in some way, that we have a purpose, that we’re doing something valuable.

    And there are so many different things we can do to have that experience. But in order to do so, we need to have space in our minds, which requires us to practice being present, to feel our feelings and to validate them.

    I hope that these three mental health boosters help you as much as they have helped me. I am grateful to you for reading this, as this is my meaningful contribution that allows my mind to focus on something I find valuable and enjoyable.

  • Stressed and Anxious? Here’s How to Stay Emotionally Healthy

    Stressed and Anxious? Here’s How to Stay Emotionally Healthy

    EDITOR’S NOTE: You can find a number of helpful coronavirus resources and all related Tiny Buddha articles here.

    “Health is not just about what you’re eating. It’s also about what you’re thinking and saying.”

    A virus is spreading across the globe. Schools are shut down. People are out of work. Grocery stores are empty.

    Weddings, graduations, vacations, a day in court—canceled.

    This is the ultimate test in emotional resilience.

    Uncertainty is one of the main reasons we stress, along with a lack of control, and right now we’ve got it in truckloads. I’ve spent the last decade building my mental and emotional resilience to stress and adversity, and yet fighting off the anxiety is still a challenge.

    I’m putting all the tools in my toolbox to good use.

    And they are working. So I want to share these tools with you.

    1. Talk to someone, but limit the bitching.

    It can be cathartic to share with others the fear, panic, and challenges we’re experiencing. It makes us feel not alone. It validates our feelings and makes us feel connected. So talk to someone about what is stressing you out right now.

    But set a time limit to focus on the negative. Maybe ten or twenty minutes each to share. Then it’s time to change the conversation.

    Here are some cues:

    • What is going right?
    • What are you proud of yourself for?
    • What are you grateful for?
    • What are you looking forward to?
    • Despite the hardships, how are you coping?
    • How can you encourage and praise your friend?

    When we only focus on the negative, we forget what is going well and then all we can see is the bad.

    I also find it incredibly helpful to notice how differently my body feels when I’m complaining, angry, and blaming than it does when I’m grateful and optimistic. One feels tight, hot, and heavy. The other feels lighter, looser, and freer.

    And as I listen to my husband, mother, or friends share their pain with me, I always make it a point when they are done to change the conversation and ask them what’s going good. I can hear the tone in their voice change as they bring their thoughts to the positive.

    2. Be generous.

    This doesn’t need to be a gift of money!

    It can be a roll of toilet paper. It can be an hour Facetiming your grandmother who is held up in her nursing home with no visitors right now. It can be offering to pick up and drop off groceries for a neighbor or making them a plate of enchiladas.

    I have a three-month-old and am blessed with an ample supply of breastmilk, so donating some of my freezer stash costs me nothing, but can mean so much for a needy mother and child right now.

    Generosity can even come in the form of well wishes or prayers for others dealing with difficult times.

    Giving is scientifically proven to be good for your emotional health.

    It activates regions of the brain “associated with pleasure, social connection, and trust, creating a ‘warm glow’ effect. It releases endorphins in the brain, producing the positive feeling known as the ‘helper’s high.’”

    Giving has been linked to the release of oxytocin, a hormone that induces feelings of warmth, euphoria, and connection to others.

    It’s been shown to decrease stress, which not only feels better, but lowers your blood pressure and other health problems caused by stress.

    What can you give right now?

    3. Take a mental break.

    It’s so easy to get stuck in mental go-mode all our waking hours. Especially since our brains crave being busy or entertained.

    Even when we rest, we flip through Facebook, watch TV, or daydream.

    These past few weeks I haven’t been making the time to take my mental breaks. I usually meditate daily, but with a baby who doesn’t yet have an eating and sleeping schedule, plus with all the extra stresses right now, I’ve not given my mind a break!

    So I could feel the anxiety creeping in. It started in the body. I felt the tension in my muscles. My jaw was tight. Breathing was shallow. And I was irritable!

    I know it’s time for a mental break when something as simple as my husband leaving another towel on the banister makes me want to file for divorce. (Or end up on an episode of Dateline!)

    So I put my husband on baby duty, ran on the treadmill trying to focus on my breath and not my to-do list, took a shower, and brought my attention to the warm water instead of worry over how I will get clients. Then I meditated for fifteen minutes zoning in on my breath every time my thoughts turned to worry over daycare and the coronavirus.

    I felt like I’d washed my brain. The tension was gone, my mind was clear, and I no longer wanted to strangle my husband.

    From our anxious place, we catastrophize as we spin out in our negativity bias. All we can see is the negative.

    We need these mental breaks to create space from these ruminating thoughts. We need to hit the reset button.

    A mental break is taking anywhere from thirty seconds to thirty minutes to consciously turn our attention inward, away from outside influence, as well as our flow of thoughts.

    We can’t stop the flow of thoughts, but we can notice when they’ve taken our attention, and purposefully redirect that attention to something in the present moment like the breath, a mantra or sound, or a visualization.

    Here are a few ways to take that mental break:

    • Breathwork
    • Meditation
    • Time in nature
    • Walking, exercise, or dancing
    • Practicing mindfulness
    • Listening to music

    Simple mental break breathing:

    • Start with a re-calibrating big, big inhale, hold it, and breathe out all the way.
    • Now breathe in slowly to the count of four, then hold for a second.
    • When you hold, hear the silence between the breaths.
    • Then breathe out to the count of four and hold for a second at the bottom.
    • When you hold, feel your mind clearing as you listen for the space between inhale and exhale.
    • Repeat until you feel relaxed.

    4. Allow all the feels.

    This stress and anxiety feel terrible. And it can be hard to muster up the strength and will to try out some of the items on this list to make yourself feel better.

    That’s okay.

    But what tends to happen is we want to run from the discomfort, try to suppress it with distraction like TV or social media, or numb it with wine, food, or drugs.

    It’s normal to want to avoid pain. We’re naturally geared to avoid it. However, when we block this pain from flowing, when we don’t allow ourselves to feel our emotions, they get stuck.

    Emotions are energy in motion. If you stop they, they just bottle up. They don’t disappear.

    Try this exercise to allow your emotions to flow:

    • Take a moment to close your eyes and sit in a quiet space or block out distraction as best you can.
    • Take a deep breath in and slowly breathe out.
    • Notice the physical feelings of stress. Where are you holding it in your body? What does it feel like?
    • On your next exhale, release as much tension as you can.
    • Repeat:
      • “I am allowing these feelings to be present.”
      • “I let these feelings flow through me.”
      • “These feelings are causing me no harm.”
    • Now scan your body starting from your head, jaw and neck. Shoulders and hips. Down your legs and feet. Release any tension you find along the way.

    Once you’ve allowed these feelings to exist and flow, the following tool is a fantastic next step toward emotional health.

    5. Express gratitude.

    We humans have a natural negativity bias. It’s a mechanism in place designed with the intention of keeping us safe.

    Being on the lookout for danger, in theory, might be a better tactic to keep us alive than ignoring any signs of danger for the sake of focusing on pleasantries. Like being on alert for a mountain lion instead of enjoying a bed of flowers.

    But 99% of the time, or more, our lives are not in imminent danger. Yet the negativity bias remains.

    As it turns out, much like generosity, gratitude is also scientifically proven to be good for our emotional health.

    It’s shown that people who express gratitude are more optimistic and feel better about their lives. Surprisingly, they also exercise more and have fewer visits to physicians than those who focus on sources of aggravation.

    In some studies, it’s also shown people immediately exhibiting a huge increase in happiness scores, as well as improved relationships.

    Here are some ways to express gratitude:

    • Write a thank-you note or email
    • Thank someone mentally
    • Try a gratitude journal
    • Pray or meditate on something you are grateful for

    6. Ask for help if you need it.

    I am so proud of our communities coming together, staying home, helping each other out. If there is something you need, there are whole groups of people ready and willing to help a stranger out. I see it all day on my Facebook feed, people offering up formula or diapers, services to drop off food, or offering homeschooling tools and advice.

    Thankfully, this pandemic has come during a time of advanced technological capabilities, allowing us all to connect digitally.

    Doctors, teachers and coaches are now available online. From the comfort of your socially distant home, you can find help right at your fingertips.

    Ask. It doesn’t make you look weak. You aren’t impositioning anyone. People inherently like to be helpful.

    Especially if you need help dealing with the anxiety of our current situation. We don’t make good decisions coming from a place of fear. Now more than ever it is essential to have emotional resiliency to get through this tough time and come out the other end whole and ready to move forward.

    We’ll get through this. Together, even though we’re physically apart. Wishing you much love, luck, and light on your journey.

  • Your Emotions Will Not Drown You; They Will Save You

    Your Emotions Will Not Drown You; They Will Save You

    “You weren’t built to be calm, cool, and collected all the time. If you were, it wouldn’t feel so exhausting.”~Ryan O’Connell 

    There’s a lot of talk nowadays about “highly sensitive people” and “empaths.” It can be difficult for people who don’t relate to these labels to understand, or even believe what more sensitive folks experience. As a culture, we’re just beginning to grasp what sensitivity is and how to manage our energy.

    What Sensitivity Actually Is

    It’s easy to get caught up in cultural biases and stigmas concerning personality traits, and sensitivity has always been a part of that. This is why I believe it’s important to define sensitivity in the most objective way possible.

    Sensitivity is simply about attunement, which is a fancy word for how much attention your nervous system is paying. Sensitive folks have more highly attuned nervous systems than others.

    For this reason, our nervous systems are both in a position of advantage and vulnerability at the same time:

    1. You will likely be the first to recognize a genuine threat in the environment. That’s a great evolutionary adaptation! In other words, sensitive people are pretty much designed to outsmart danger and stay safe in the world. (Contrary to the stigma that sensitivity is weakness, sensitive people would probably make the best Jedis ever.)

    2. You will be more susceptible to stress-related symptoms, exhaustion, and mental health issues. In other words, threats that aren’t worth considering will still be considered threatening by the sensitive person because they may struggle with discernment.

    If my nervous system is signaling a threat, how am I supposed to ignore that?!

    Imagine tuning a guitar; as you turn the knob, you create a higher pitch. The string becomes tighter and the notes higher.

    I think this is the perfect metaphor for sensitivity, and one I discovered in college after reading the work of a troubled 1800s poet, Charles Baudelaire. He said, “My nerves are strung to such a pitch that they no longer give anything but piercing and painful vibrations.”

    He wrote this after describing a beautiful landscape he was looking at. He loves it, only, as he takes more and more of the scenery in, it begins to overwhelm him. His nervous system is easily overstimulated by the sights, even positive ones. Lacking the wisdom to glide with this energy, he is tormented by it.

    In all of my angsty college depression, I thought, “This guy gets it!”

    Back then, I was brand new to adulthood and had no idea how to use my sensitivity in any advantageous way. As a result, I developed chronic symptoms doctors couldn’t explain, did poorly in school, and attracted negative relationships with people who didn’t experience the world like I did.

    I simply believed there must be something wrong with me—and so all my efforts went toward fixing myself. I tried developing new skills, making new friends, and applying for various types of jobs. My assumption was that as soon as I figured out how to be “valuable” and well-liked, I’d finally be happy.

    But these pursuits never quite panned out. After college I found myself confused and depressed, and much like Baudelaire, tortured by my sensitivity to the world. I started looking elsewhere for answers and stumbled upon yoga and meditation for the first time.

    In the years following, I worked from home more and more, increasingly turned down parties and unfulfilling trips to the bar, and settled into a healing phase in which I kept to myself.

    The depth of this phase surprised me. There was so much baggage, so much pain to sort through, and so many confusing emotions to sit with. But the more I sat, the more the emotions spoke, revealing my guilt, grief, dissatisfaction, and many more realities I was unaware of. Life was hard because I wasn’t listening to their feedback.

    The more I let them speak, the more positive they became, inspiring new emotions and new behaviors that moved me forward in life.

    Wielding Your Power

    Thankfully, we no longer live in an age that demonizes sensitivity. We are, in many ways, free to arrange our lives in ways that support us, rather than pull us deeper into the currents of overwhelm.

    Imagine walking down the street and realizing that every little stimulus is an invitation—an invitation to feel an emotion, experience a memory, or share in the emotional stream of others’ conversations, etc.

    It’s no wonder sensitive people shut themselves away from the world! It’s so much easier to just avoid all stimuli and hyper-control your environment.

    Unfortunately, doing this 24/7 actually enables the sensitive person to avoid practicing their power. It helps us stay stuck.

    Imagine if Luke Skywalker simply said, “Man, the force is too draining! I think I’ll just stay inside forever.”

    As a newly awakened sensitive person, you may need to hibernate for a while. However, this is only part of the growth path.

    The tough truth is that those with highly attuned nervous systems must master emotion… or suffer. Mastering emotional fluency is an extremely fulfilling journey because you get to experience the full spectrum of human emotion. Whereas many people are just going through the motions, you feel everything, which gives you a unique power and ability to handle anything.

    But for those at the starting line, it can seem like a punishment.

    Why me?

    How to Master Emotional Fluency

    It is unlikely that any of the following points I make will shock you. In fact, they may frustrate you because you already know them. They’re just so hard to implement!

    The thing is, the human nervous system has evolved through many, many centuries. This means that the patterns you are now trying to change or guide in your body are very well established.

    It’s important to not look at this as you trying to work against or change your tendency to become stimulated in uncomfortable ways. When people get caught up in this mentality, they adopt the notion that they are unwell, victims of their own bodies, broken and powerless to direct their own lives.

    As someone who has been through that pain, I want to tell you: That is so far from the reality of your situation.

    You are not here to make yourself less sensitive. You are not here to be like everyone around you.

    You are here to:

    1. Heal your own recurring trauma patterns so that you can lighten the load for your nervous system.

    In essence, this means reducing unnecessary triggers that disrupt your day and cause a full-body stress response. Start to notice things that continuously upset you and catch yourself in those moments. Simply stop and watch the reaction. What specific emotions create a downward spiral in your day?

    It will help you to write down each time you feel triggered so the underlying issues can slowly reveal themselves. For example, you may find that each time you feel anxiety, you’re in a crowded space, or you recall the same painful memory. (This is not only lightening the load on your nervous system, but your adrenals and hormones as well.)

    2. Start cleaning house—what has to go?

    Whereas step 1 is about past trauma that keeps haunting us, this step is about recurring present-day stressors. These have the same, if not more of a detrimental effect on you because they influence daily stress levels.

    This step often takes sensitive folks the longest because they must find ways to restructure their lives (leaving behind toxic relationships and jobs, letting go of old routines, etc.) This may require creativity and outside-the-box thinking because the world is currently designed for less sensitive people, which research shows is the majority.

    Grabbing a stimulating coffee, running off to a stressful job, taking care of your kids with little support, eating stimulating foods—all of this stimulation is “normal,” but for you, it is not sustainable. These habits will lead you in a downward spiral of mental and physical exhaustion.

    For me, this meant finding more flexible jobs that didn’t demand much from me emotionally. Inevitably, it also meant distancing myself from people who were not right for me – even when it was painful to do so.

    3. Rebuild, rebuild, rebuild.

    Begin welcoming in that which fuels you, and begin creating a life that is lighter, simpler, and freer. This life will lack drama that distracts you from who you are. By learning and exploring what matters to you, you will move closer and closer to a reality of true joy.

    Your heightened emotions can come along with you in this new life. Only, you will experience a new side to them—the positive. You will finally begin to feel the ups along with the downs, and it will reveal how more and better was always possible for you.

    This is a slow, challenging process, and by no means have I reached the finish line. For me, refueling has been about getting back to the root who I am and moving toward my genuine goals without rushing myself. The rebuilding phase is all about how you spend your time. Do what feels replenishing and step away from what feels draining.

    No matter how many hurdles you see ahead, you have more power than them. You are not here to bear the weight of society’s chaos. You are here to bring it into order so your sensitivity can work for you, not against you.

    Are you ready to begin?

  • Why Some Things Trigger You Emotionally and Others Don’t

    Why Some Things Trigger You Emotionally and Others Don’t

    “If you’re hysterical, it’s historical.” ~Anonymous

    I had been having problems with my email. I dreaded calling technical support, since my experience in the past involved sitting for a long time on hold and listening to someone reading from a script instead of thinking creatively about my problem. However, since I could not fix the problem myself and I felt I had no other options, I called my Internet service provider’s technical support line.

    True to form, after thirty minutes on the phone we had barely moved past the point where I had repeated my name and account number to four different people. Then, after another hour on the phone while attempting to solve my problem, the technical support representative actually lost some of my emails.

    I’m not going to sugarcoat this. I went ballistic.

    Like most people, I’ve spent many hours of my life on the phone with technical support representatives, attempting to fix something that is very important to my life and my livelihood—my computer, my Internet connection, my phone, etc. When they can’t fix the problem, I become completely hateful toward them. For some reason, it’s this one area that just turns me into the ugliest version of myself.

    I’m not proud, but I have said some of the most vile things to these people on the phone because I want them to feel as bad as they are making me feel with their robotic repetition of “I’m so sorry for the inconvenience” or their insistence that their software isn’t the source of the problem; it must be my hardware.

    I used to hide the fact that I went ballistic. It felt like an ugly secret that I would occasionally lose it with someone on the phone. I think it’s healthy to be embarrassed about completely losing your cool, but it’s also healthy to learn from the situation so you don’t lose your cool so easily the next time.

    I have always assumed that my level of anger during these situations is much greater than the general population’s, although recent recordings of profanity-laced customer service calls around the Internet is making me question this.

    When I mentioned to a friend that I was fighting with Comcast, she quickly replied, “That’s enraging.” Even my therapist described her own experiences with technical support calls as “crazymaking.” Hey, it’s from a therapist. That makes it official.

    I still knew that my particular reaction was overblown. How do I know this? I look to the people around me as a gauge. I pick those people who have a generally positive outlook on life, who are stable, content and able to meet life’s challenges with resilience. I observe their example. I don’t look to those people who have a generally negative outlook on life. Grumpalumps are not a good gauge for what is normal behavior.

    I wondered aloud to a friend one day about my overblown reaction to these situations. She knows me well and offered this piece of wise advice. She said, “When you’re hysterical, it’s historical.”

    Growing up, I had a pervasive sense that I was surrounded by incompetent people who could not help me when I clearly needed it. I sensed this because it was true. Trust me. That sense of frustration was something that sat, ever so close to the surface, ready to be triggered, well into my adulthood.

    Enter the incompetent technical support representative who knows less about my iPhone than I do. In that situation I am, in fact, surrounded by people who cannot help my when I clearly need it.

    Trigger. I flash back to feeling like that frustrated little kid who felt that my clear requests for help went unheeded. I wound up figuring everything out by myself, since the people around me were unable to recognize the needs of others and to be of help. That made me furious—and exhausted. It’s that part of me who freaks out at the technical support representative.

    We are all carrying around that kind of old, outdated baggage in our present-day lives. This is why what triggers one person is absolutely no big deal to another.

    I found it such a relief to connect the dots between my specific type of childhood angst and my extreme reaction to an ordinary technical support nightmare. Making that connection immediately diffused my emotions around it. I was still frustrated—may I remind you it was a technical support call—but I wasn’t “ballistic-frustrated.”

    Why does something attached to childhood carry so much force? Remember that children have very little control over their lives. They have limited ability to have experiences that test the worldview presented to them. They have little ability to communicate their needs. They have little power to resist the authority around them. Problems seem so big when children are so small.

    Not anymore! As adults, we have power, resources, experience, and a much broader perspective than we ever did as children. We’ve learned a thing or two.

    I’ve been around long enough to know that even if there isn’t an immediately obvious solution, I’ll probably figure it out, or find someone else who can. I’m no longer helpless, powerless, or incapable. The kid in me forgets that sometimes and throws a tantrum.

    Think about a situation that makes you crazy. What part of you is reacting to the situation? Is it the five-year-old in you that felt ignored and taken for granted? Is it the angry teenager who felt oppressed and smothered? Is it the scared ten-year-old who feels insecure and incapable?

    Am I ultimately saying that our negative emotions around those things that trigger us all are unjustified? Not at all. I’m saying our reactions to them can be overblown.

    When we are triggered emotionally it’s a signal that something from our past is surfacing. Once I was able to disconnect my past from my present, my emotions diffused and I was no longer able to be triggered. I had a clear enough head to be able to handle the problem with out all of the angst.

    I eventually found someone to help me with my e-mail. He was, in fact, a rare find. Now I’m thinking about getting rid of cable and moving to Internet-based television. I’ll tackle that when I feel I’m in the right state of mind and have some extra time on my hands. In the meantime, maybe I’ll create a national network of Technical Support Support Groups.

  • How I Overcame Childhood Emotional Neglect and Learned to Meet My Needs

    How I Overcame Childhood Emotional Neglect and Learned to Meet My Needs

    “In order to move on, you must understand why you felt what you did and why you no longer need to feel it.” ~Mitch Albom

    “Your feelings are valid,” said my life coach during one of our sessions, as we were working on an issue I had with my parents.

    I had to do a double take. My feelings are valid? She actually accepts them as they are?

    Eventually it started to dawn on me: My parents never validated my feelings. This sudden revelation earlier this year threw me into a dark period of my life.

    When I was growing up, my parents criticized me for being “overly emotional” and “too sensitive,” and I never felt they truly accepted me.

    My whole family shied away from expressing emotions, so I learned not to express or talk about my emotions either. I felt deeply disconnected in romantic relationships and often didn’t want to depend on others for help. Something felt completely off in my life, but I just couldn’t put my finger on what.

    It wasn’t until I did more research and came across the term “childhood emotional neglect,” coined by Dr. Jonice Webb, that I started to fully understand my situation.

    Childhood emotional neglect, or CEN, refers to a parent’s failure to respond to their child’s emotional needs.

    Dr. Jonice explains that CEN is an act of omission—or something that is silent, missing, and not visible—that goes on in the background of a child’s upbringing. In fact, most parents have good intentions and often provide for their child’s material needs but are emotionally unavailable because they were neglected themselves—thus, resulting in a cycle of not being able to express emotions or respond to their child’s feelings.

    So how do you know if you’ve experienced CEN? In Dr. Jonice’s CEN questionnaire, she asks questions like:

    • Do you sometimes feel like you don’t belong with your family and friends?
    • Do you have trouble knowing what you’re feeling?
    • Do you have trouble identifying your strengths and weaknesses?
    • Do you at times feel empty inside?
    • Do you have friends or family members who complain that you are aloof or distant?

    The more questions you answer “yes” to, the more likely you have been affected by CEN in those areas of your life.

    After taking the CEN questionnaire and reading more about it, I realized that it described my situation perfectly.

    Although I come from an Asian background that is generally known for not being expressive, I don’t want to live my life feeling wholly disconnected from myself and my emotions. But for a long time I wasn’t able to change this. It took me spiraling headfirst into anxiety and depression to find the courage to dig myself out of that proverbial black hole and fight back.

    I started going for counseling and received more validation that my feelings and emotions should be unconditionally accepted, and that it was okay to express them to others. I learned, through role-playing exercises, how to communicate my feelings properly, without feeling ashamed for having them.

    This continued to reinforce a new belief in me: that my feelings are valid and important, and so am I.

    As I went through this inner discovery, I learned a few other things that have helped me recover from the effects of CEN.

    1. I deserve self-forgiveness and self-compassion.

    Because children and adults affected by CEN are often shamed for their feelings, it is important for them to learn how to self-soothe and develop compassion for themselves.

    While I was going through my depression, I recognized that I was perpetuating the same behavior by shaming and guilting myself for my thoughts about my parents. I also blamed myself for causing my own pain all this time.

    It took much awareness to notice these negative thought patterns and consciously replace them with more positive ones. Now, I choose to be kind to myself when I’m struggling. I validate my own feelings in the way I wish my parents once did.

    2. My needs are important.

    In addition to accepting my emotional needs, I realized that all of my needs—physical, mental, and spiritual—are important. To ensure I could better honor them, I made a list of my varied needs and now use this as a guide on how to live my life consciously.

    I also learned how to communicate effectively when I need to stand up for myself instead of hiding from or running away from difficult situations. I learned that emotions are neither good nor bad; they’re just messages to inform me as I go about my daily life.

    For example, I don’t need to feel guilty about feeling angry. Anger is just a sign there’s something I need to address, like a boundary violation or perhaps a miscommunication.

    3. It’s okay to put my needs first.

    If your parents neglected your needs when you were younger, you may think that they are not a top priority. In my case, it took a lot of relearning, and I often had to stop and ask myself, in relationships or work situations, am I not putting myself first?

    I had to be careful to not martyr myself by agreeing to obligations, as this would lead to resentment and often, passive-aggressive behavior. I had to seriously consider whether I was actually saying yes to something because I wanted to or just agreeing because I wanted to please others.

    4. I need to regularly tune into my emotions.

    I use a simple body scan exercise every day that helps me recognize what I’m feeling. I listen to my body, and if any emotions or tension come up, I write this down, investigate what this really means, and see if I can find a way to meet my own emotional needs.

    For example, if I’m sad or angry, I ask myself: How can I tend to those emotions myself? What do I need to accept, change, or address? It’s like do-it-yourself parenting in a way.

    Slowly but surely, through the exercises above and counseling, I’ve become more conscious of my needs and emotions. I’ve started feeling more connected to myself, and I’ve opened up to other people. I now feel much freer and better able to accept myself and my emotions, and I find it easier to relate to others.

    Often, the biggest challenge for those who’ve been affected by childhood emotional neglect is recognizing they’ve been subjected to it, since many people don’t even recognize how their childhood affected them.

    When you have more awareness of your own situation, you can easily implement the above tips and get help from a professional to learn how to re-parent yourself, and also ensure you don’t perpetuate this unhealthy cycle with your own kids.

  • How to Release Emotions Stuck in Your Body and Let Go of the Pain

    How to Release Emotions Stuck in Your Body and Let Go of the Pain

    “The human mind is a relational and embodied process that regulates the flow of energy and information.” ~Daniel J. Siegel

    We are emotional creatures, and we were born to express emotions freely and openly. Somewhere along the way, however, many of us learned to repress emotions, especially those deemed “negative,” in order to fit in, earn love, and be accepted. This was my experience.

    I grew up in a home where the motto was “Children are to be seen, not heard.” There was little emotional expression allowed, let alone accepted. No one was there to validate or help us process emotions in a healthy way. Anger was met with anger, fear went unacknowledged, and there was plenty of shame to go around.

    My parents didn’t model how to deal with difficult emotions, as they struggled with that themselves. When those emotions showed up, I often felt overwhelmed and inadequate, ashamed of my failure to be a “good girl.”

    I learned to bury my pain deep inside, feeling invisible, ashamed, angry, alone, and unable to ask for what I needed. Trying to hide the pain—from others and myself—I built walls, put on masks, and soldiered on. For better or worse.

    My pain was buried so deep, I didn’t realize it was there until I had my own children. Motherhood opened up old wounds, the house of cards fell apart, and I began to unravel.

    In my thirties, faced with growing angst and creeping depression—and motivated to be the best parent I could be to my children—I began to deal with repressed memories and old emotional residue that has left me suffering from C-PTSD, chronic back pain, sciatica, headaches, and anxiety.

    As a child, I hid from the emotional pain by delving into the world of books, music, and academics. As an adult, I realized I was strong enough to face it. I wasn’t a little child anymore; I didn’t have to hide. Now I was more mature and had the resources I needed to finally face the pain that used to overwhelm my young brain—and begin to heal it.

    The truth is, we all hide our emotions occasionally. We pretend, avoid, and deny uncomfortable emotions in an effort of self-preservation, as a defense mechanism.

    We do this most often with difficult emotions like shame, fear, or anger. When we experience events that emotionally overwhelm us and we’re unable to process what is happening, accept our emotions, and express them through our body and mind, we hide them deep inside us where others can’t see them. And we end up hiding them from ourselves too. Yet, they’re still there.

    The unresolved emotions get trapped in our body, where they build and fester, draining our energy, leading to burnout, emotional imbalance, and eventually disease. When we chronically repress emotions, we create toxicity in our body, mind, and heart.

    This unprocessed emotional energy is stored in our organs, muscles, and tissues. It leads to inflammation and chronic health problems, and it undermines our overall well-being.

    3 Steps to Processing Emotional Energy Stuck in Your Body

    The opposite of repression is expression. In order to process our emotional distress and move it through and out of our body so it doesn’t get stuck there, we need to learn to express our emotions in a healthy way, in the body and mind. But first, we need to learn to recognize and accept our feelings as they come and go.

    Step 1: Recognize (self-awareness)

    The challenge is to recognize the emotion and feel it in your body. This is where mindfulness comes in. The goal is to notice what is happening within our body, accept it, and feel it fully, without judgment.

    If you’ve ever come across Tara Brach’s teachings on radical acceptance, the practice of R.A.I.N. should sound familiar. R.A.I.N. stands for recognize, allow, investigate, and nourish (with self-compassion), and it “directly de-conditions the habitual ways in which you resist your moment-to-moment experience,” according to Brach.

    Buddhist teachings tell us that human suffering is caused by aversion and resistance to what is happening. Acceptance is liberating, and the practice of R.A.I.N. teaches us to accept our moment-to-moment experience instead of running from it. It teaches us to face any difficulty head-on, with self-compassion and the understanding that it will eventually pass.

    We have to feel it to heal it—we have to fully experience the emotion in order to process and integrate it into our experience.

    But we must feel it in the body; this is the critical point. As Brach writes, “If the process of including difficult emotions in awareness stops at the level of cognitive understanding without a fully embodied experience, the genuine acceptance, insight, and inner freedom that are the essence of true healing will not be complete.”

    Practice mindfulness to get better at recognizing your feelings and observing the bodily sensations connected to those feelings as they come and go throughout the day. Offer yourself self-compassion as you go through more difficult emotions.

    PRACTICE:

    Sit still for a few minutes with your eyes closed. Listen to your body and become curious.

    What does your body feel like right now? Is there any pressure or tingling? Where? Do you feel heavy, hot, contracted, warm, or cold? What is the texture, weight, and shape of the sensations you notice in your body? What emotions are those sensations connected to? Can you breathe into the parts that call your attention? What do those parts of your body want to tell you? What do they want?

    Step 2: Respond (self-expression)

    Emotions need to be expressed to be processed. The goal is to move the energy of emotion through and out the body so we can let it go.

    This self-expression must be authentic and embodied. Remember, true healing occurs when body and mind integrate, so express the emotion on the bodily level first and foremost.

    Still sitting, ask yourself: What does this emotion you just connected with need from you? What feels right in this moment? What do you need?

    Maybe you feel the need to cry, scream into a pillow, go for a swim, walk or run, dance it out, hit a punching bag, do some gardening, tapping, yoga or TRE, paint your feelings out, or simply breathe deeply while facing the sun—whatever feels cathartic in that moment, do it.

    You will free the poisonous emotion that you carried within yourself and free yourself from its shackles.

    Follow this step with one of the best forms of emotional healing—journaling. Writing can be a very therapeutic experience of self-discovery, reconnecting with our true self, and processing our deepest feelings and emotions.

    When we write, we give our internal world a voice. We process and make sense of what is happening within us and around us. And we gain perspective; by writing about our fears and hurts, we can look at them from a distance, detach from their grip, and eventually let them go. That release can be truly healing.

    Practice journaling every day to get better at expressing and processing your feelings. Don’t censor or judge yourself; let it all out, completely unfiltered. Over time, your journal will become a safe space for you to free yourself, get unstuck, and move forward.

    We often don’t have the time and space to process emotions in the moment, so make sure you allow yourself the space to feel the emotions you’ve had through the day and journal about it at the end of each day.

    WRITING PROMPT

    What is happening in your life right now that you wish you could change? What is the biggest source of frustration? As you write, notice the sensations in your body. Tune into the parts that are numb, in pain, or frozen. What are they trying to tell you? What needs healing, attention, or change?

    Step 3: Reset (self-care)

    If we’ve habitually neglected our bodies and ignored our emotions, we have to re-dedicate ourselves to body-mind self-care and indulge in healing habits that will bring in the feeling of well-being.

    The goal is to realign back with your authentic self, reset back to a relaxed and open state, and come back into wellness and balance.

    Take time to slow down and be alone, get out into nature, make art, listen to music while you cook your favorite dinner, meditate to cleanse your mind and relax your body, or take a bubble bath or a nap to restore. Take good care of yourself to awaken to life’s joy and simple pleasures that will nourish your body, mind, and soul.

    My Own Healing Journey

    When I decided to take charge of my own healing, I had no idea where to start. A lifelong bookworm, I quickly discovered writing to be therapeutic. It became my refuge, a place where I could connect with my inner world in an authentic way. Writing became my most trusted way of processing emotions I didn’t even know I harbored inside since childhood. I discovered shame, anger, fear, grief, and eventually, self-compassion.

    With mindfulness, I learned to allow my pain to surface, if only for a brief time, then surround it with tender love and care. My pain was a part of me, and I was done running from it; it was time I faced it.

    I learned to sense into my body, little by little, as the anxiety of reconnecting with my physical sensations was very powerful. But I realized the only way out was through—through the body—so in order to move the stuck emotions that had a tight grip over me for decades, I had to allow and accept them; I had to feel the anger, the shame, the grief.

    Slowly, I learned to give my inner child the support she never received. I listened to and validated her pain—and helped her let go of it. I learned to love and accept her. And I finally learned to love and accept myself.

    Healing is a taxing process. Remember to give yourself all the care and compassion you would give to a friend doing this hard work. Offer yourself understanding, love, and care. This is hard work, and you are doing the best you can with what you’ve got.

    Trapped emotions get in our way. They sabotage our efforts to create the life we want and make us miserable along the way. Freeing this emotional energy stuck in our bodies can shift our lives in a positive way. It’s healing and liberating. And you are worth it!

  • How I Stopped Emotional Eating and Started Feeling Better About Life

    How I Stopped Emotional Eating and Started Feeling Better About Life

    “Don’t forget you’re human. It’s okay to have a meltdown, just don’t unpack and live there.” ~Unknown

    For the longest time, I wanted to lose weight. I wasn’t terribly overweight but it seemed to me that if I could just have the perfect body, life would be amazing.

    So, I threw everything but the kitchen sink at my food and exercise habits.

    Never one to settle for small wins, I pushed myself to have the perfect diet—I prepped meals at home, didn’t eat out very much, and worked out as often as I could. Yes, the kind where I would run myself ragged and feel exhausted for the next two days.

    My day until 7 p.m. would go according to plan. I’d use all of my willpower to eat right. The moment I finished work, though, life would go downhill. I would self-sabotage, stuffing myself at dinner and snacking until midnight to feel better.

    I would fall asleep feeling guilty, sick, and ashamed of what I was doing. I would berate myself for not having the self-control and the discipline—this was just a pack of cookies and I couldn’t even say no to it?

    I hated myself while I walked to the convenience store at midnight to sneakily buy another pack of chips. It seemed like I was compelled to eat against my will. My life felt out of control and there was nothing I could do about it. More than anything, it was this feeling of helplessness that really hurt.

    At the same time, I had a career in Fortune 50—by all outward means a great job at an amazing company—yet I was sad, disenchanted, and felt like I didn’t belong in my first couple of years there.

    In hindsight, I can see how I turned to food for comfort; it was why I always overate at night when I was drained out after a long day. It was the time when I needed soothing to make myself feel better, to numb the voices in my head that told me I didn’t belong, and to quieten my mind, which was always searching for answers to existentialist questions of “what is my purpose in life?”

    The more and more I ate to soothe myself, the more and more my body craved food. I felt restless if I wasn’t stuffed. Instead of stopping to deal with the pain rationally, I tried to use diet, exercise, and willpower to exert some semblance of control over my otherwise clueless life.

    Soon, I realized that I was in a deep hole and that all conventional attempts to get myself out of it weren’t working. I couldn’t go on feeling like this day in and day out, so I began to make a series of mindset and behavioral shifts to start feeling happy again.

    As a bonus, I also lost twenty pounds in six months, stopped having cravings, and finally felt in control of my life again.

    My biggest mindset shift was being compassionate with myself.

    • Where previously I judged myself harshly, now I try to do my best without criticism.
    • Where previously I would look for perfection, now I accept that I am dealing with a difficult period in my life and it’s okay to fail sometimes.
    • Where previously I would try to numb my emotions, now I accept that I can’t fix them immediately.
    • Where previously I would expect myself to overcome challenges in a jiffy, now I realize that these things take time.

    My biggest behavioral shift was noticing and facing my emotions.

    1. I began to notice and realize for the first time when I actually overate.

    For me, it was at night after work, and no degree of willpower or keeping trigger foods out of reach seemed to help. Just noticing this pattern, however, helped me anticipate what was coming so I wasn’t caught off guard. Automatically, this made me feel more in control of what was going on with my eating.

    2. I started noticing my feelings during the urge.

    What was that emotion, raw and murky, that I sub-consciously didn’t want to face? Was it tiredness or sadness? Exhaustion or a pick-me-up? Often, the reality of a purposeless existence hit me hard once I was back home and all alone. The last thing I wanted to do at that point was deal with it, so I ate to forget it instead.

    3. I honed it on what I actually wanted to feel—what was it that food would give me?

    Did I want to be warm and comforted? In control? Alert? I was always seeking comfort, so I made myself some hot tea and sipped it mindfully, feeling the tea warming my entire body. I always eventually took a deep breath at the end of it and I felt much better.

    Sometimes this relief was only temporary; I would be fine for a few hours, but by midnight I would be reaching out for food again. That’s when I realized that I also needed to face my emotions.

    4. I had to take the hard step and allow myself to feel my emotions.

    For me, it was sadness and hopelessness. I didn’t try to forget it. I didn’t try to distract myself from it. I just accepted the feeling.

    Sometimes, it would wash over me like a tide and I’d feel like crying. At other times, I felt numb and empty. All of these feelings were only natural and perfectly normal. My body and mind were just seeking some acknowledgement and I would feel a sense of relief that the knot of emotion that was so tied up inside me was finally out.

    5. On some days, allowing myself to feel my emotions was enough. On other days I had to address my feelings head on even if they made me uncomfortable.

    I asked myself why I kept feeling this way. Was I just tired and overworked? Was I unhappy at where I was in life? I kept asking myself why again and again until I found a reason that resonated with me, that wasn’t just another justification to myself. I was experiencing a quarter-life crisis, it was affecting me every day and that was okay, because now I could deal with it rationally.

    6. Lastly, I always gave myself the choice to eat at the end of this exercise.

    If I still wanted to eat, that was fine. If I didn’t, that was fine too. It was important to me that I controlled my actions, and wasn’t a victim to my feelings.

    In hindsight, I realize that at the end of the day, it’s not our conscious habits or behaviors that determine our happiness. It’s our unconscious desires, fears, and emotions that go unaddressed that eat us up from within, literally in this case.

    If you want to stop emotional eating, recognize that it started as a symptom of something much larger—perhaps dissatisfaction with your career, finances, or relationships—something you didn’t want to face head on.

    As the eating habit evolves, it gets more and more compulsive so there is a combination of mental, behavioral, and emotional hacks that all need to work together to heal. That is why conventional dieting and fitness advice doesn’t work. That is why relying on willpower doesn’t work. It’s normal that these things don’t help, and you’re normal for feeling this way.

    Remember that how you respond to an emotion or a craving is your choice, always.

    However hopeless you may be feeling now, know that you have the power to make changes that can transform your life. You just have to start again, even if you fail sometimes—but this time, start differently. Use your emotional awareness to beat comfort eating at its own game.

  • How to Be Whole on Your Own and How This Strengthens Your Relationships

    How to Be Whole on Your Own and How This Strengthens Your Relationships

    “Only through our connectedness to others can we really know and enhance the self. And only through working on the self can we begin to enhance our connectedness to others.” ~Harriet Lerner

    Three decades ago, I married the man with whom I knew I would spend the rest of my life. We each had a rough childhood and had learned a lot about surviving, defending, and protecting ourselves. However, we did not know much about how to maintain a successful relationship.

    We took numerous classes on communication, learned to fight fair, and filled our goodwill bank accounts with lots of positive actions. However, despite our best efforts, something was still missing.

    There were times that the relationship felt smothering, and new types of problems kept arising. I got sick of saying “we” all of the time instead of “I.” Once when I was sick and slept in a different room, I was equally fascinated and worried by how much I enjoyed being by myself.

    Yes, we had learned to reconnect, to repair our troubles, and to deepen our intimacy. However, we had not yet figured out the crucial step necessary for keeping your relationship healthy.

    When it comes to love, we have two essential tasks. One, as most of us know, is to learn the skills and practices that allow relationships to thrive. The other lesson is less familiar to most people, but it is even more important. We must also learn how to love ourselves.

    By self-love, I do not refer to the type of vanity that is fed by money, power, influence, a gym-toned body, and the admiration of others. What I mean is the kind of love that leads to self-care, not only of our physical health but also of our minds and hearts.

    It’s the kind of love that creates for ourselves the time and space to develop and to use our talents. It’s the kind of love that frees us to discover and to foster our true purpose in life.

    To become truly wholehearted in our loving, we have to look at when we have acted in a “half-hearted” manner and when have we been “closed-hearted.” Also, we have to examine when it is that we have responded in a “hard-hearted” way.

    Our biggest challenge is to achieve the “whole” in wholehearted. In order to love anyone in a wholehearted way, we need to make ourselves whole first. We must integrate the two forces—the “me” and the “we.”

    Let me be clear about the three things that are not wholeness:

    • A constant state of happiness
    • An ongoing state of acceptance, love, and balance
    • A perpetual feeling of well-being

    Wholeness truly means accepting “the whole enchilada.” The hard, the sad, the mad, the scared, and the glad are all parts of you. The gratitude and the resentment together make you whole.

    Your acceptance of all the pieces of yourself makes you whole. Here are five practices that can each help us find our wholeness.

    1. Spend quality time with yourself.

    I once heard someone say that spending time with yourself is the greatest practice you can do, and I didn’t understand at the time what the speaker meant.

    While alone, I always felt like I was “by myself.” I mistook being alone for loneliness. It took me years to discover the pleasure of walking in nature, exploring an art museum, or hanging out at a farmer’s market loving my own company as much as with another person.

    2. Each day, check to make sure your self-esteem is balanced by your self-criticism.

    People sometimes mistake self-love for self-indulgence. Challenging myself when I am not living up to my own standards is important, but it must be done with compassion. Learning to love yourself despite your imperfections allows you to accept other people’s imperfections.

    3. Find a practice that centers you.

    Sitting in a lotus position and concentrating on breathing allows some people to find focus; there are also other practices like Zen meditation, walking meditation, Vipanassa meditation, and many more.

    In addition, there are methods of centering that are just as powerful for self-reflection; dance, art, writing, and prayer are just a few examples. What they all have in common is that we can use them to check in.

    4. Take an inventory of where you are right now. Explore it in your mind.

    Body: Am I satisfied with the ways I nourish my body? How can I make even better choices? Examine your nutrition, exercise for strength, flexibility, endurance, and cardiac wellness as well as all of the other kinds of self-care you can practice.

    Mind: Am I feeling fed, challenged, expanded, and interested? Am I growing?

    Spirit: Am I satisfied with the definition I have for spirit? How can I get more in touch my spirit? Is there a place within me where I can find peacefulness, wisdom, and guidance?

    Emotional: How am I coping with my current challenges? Is there a flow of different feelings, or do I find myself stuck on one emotion? Do I feel balanced?

    Social: How am I connected with the people in my life (family, friends, partner, coworkers)? What’s working, and where do I want to make changes?

    5. Develop a daily gratitude practice and begin by showing yourself appreciation.

    Ask yourself about the victories you have had during the week. Acknowledge when you did something that was brave. Thank yourself for taking the time to feel gratitude.

    As you explore these five techniques, you might discover others. You will find you already have wholeness inside; you just have to find the keys to open the door.

    When we feel good about ourselves, we’re more likely to feel generous toward others; it’s a symbiotic relationship. We feel grounded and centered enough to take risks and to reach out to others. We feel safe by acknowledging our shortcomings and forgiving ourselves, so we are able to open up to our partners wholeheartedly.

  • The Most Powerful Way to Help Someone Through Emotional Pain

    The Most Powerful Way to Help Someone Through Emotional Pain

    “When you can’t look on the bright side, I will sit with you in the dark.” ~Unknown

    I walked in for my monthly massage and immediately sensed something was off.

    A layer of desolation hung in the air like an invisible mist, ominous and untouchable, yet so thick I felt as though I could reach out and grab a handful in my fist, like wet cement, oozing out between my fingers.

    I’d been seeing the same masseuse once a month for three years, repeating the same routine each time. I wait in the hallway just outside her rented studio, a large walk-in closet size room in a building filled with hundreds of similar rooms, each rented to private individuals running their small passion businesses. Across from her, a wax studio. Down the hall, a hair salon.

    The building houses the manifested dreams of men and women who finally had enough of the daily nine-to-five grind, fired their bosses, and defiantly forged their way into their own businesses, renting space big enough for their hopes yet small enough for their start-up pockets.

    The appointment started unlike any other. When her door’s closed, it means she’s with another client, so I sit in the hallway, in one of the two wobbly wooden chairs the building provides for each tenant, and wait.

    When the door opens and the previous client leaves, we greet with hugs and smiles, expressing mutual joy in seeing each other again. As she closes the door, I take off my clothes and lie on the table face down, exchanging small talk about any happenings since we last saw one another.

    Except this time, on this fateful day, the door opened and I was greeted by an overwhelming sense of sorrow spilling out of the room with a vengeance, as if it had been trapped for decades.

    Standing in place of my masseuse friend was a lifeless, hollow shell of a person with empty zombie eyes. I hardly recognized her.

    Jen (not her real name) was clearly not her usual self.

    I’ve seen her in several bad moods throughout the years but this was beyond moods, and bad was too kind a word.

    Like me, Jen’s an introverted, sensitive soul, and neither of us have tolerance for inauthenticity or meaningless chit chat. We had long established that she didn’t have to be “on” around me, that she was allowed to take off her professional mask and I my client mask and we could simply be ourselves with each other, neither of us having to endure the torture of polite pleasantries if we didn’t feel like it.

    One of my pet peeves is society’s constant pressure and expectation to put on a happy face and pretend everything’s okay while inside things are desperately broken.

    So I said “hi” and walked in, neither expecting a return “hi” nor receiving one. She closed the door behind me and tears suddenly welled in my eyes as I undressed, as if sorrow no longer had the means to escape through the open door and found another way out by hitchhiking my tears.

    I wanted to respect the present moment, even though I didn’t understand it, so I stayed silent and lay on the table, face down, as I’d always done.

    Ten minutes in, between deep long strokes on my back, I heard a soft, almost inaudible, “I lost the girls.”

    Jen had been pregnant with twin girls. I remember the day she told me. She could barely wait for me to get through the door before blurting out, “I’m pregnant!” She and her husband had been trying to get pregnant for a while and finally, she was not only pregnant, she was pregnant with twins!

    And now, she wasn’t anymore.

    I sunk into the massage table as the enormity of what she said dropped into me. And then, I started to get up and tell her that she didn’t have to massage me. We could talk if she wanted, or she could take the extra hour to herself, I’d still pay her. She gently nudged my shoulder back down and said she needed to work; it kept her mind from self-destructing.

    She told me that her soul had been emptied along with her womb, and there was nothing left, let alone tears, inside her.

    I had enough tears for both of us so I told her I’d cry, for her, her girls, and her loss. For the next forty-five minutes, as she released my knots, I released tears, wails, and guttural sobs. It came and went in waves and I became acutely aware of the rhythm of her breathing as it converged with mine and became one.

    Between waves, there were moments of talking.

    Like with me, she had met many of her clients with the exciting news that she was pregnant, and like with me, she also had to tell them she was no longer pregnant. Client after client, spread out over weeks, she had to repeat the same story over and over until every client who knew had been caught up.

    It was a devastating loss for her, and one she had to retell to each client, all hearing it for the first time, all with similar questions and the same sympathetic side tilting heads in response.

    She said her days have been filled with well-intentioned but stale advice like “everything happens for a reason,” and “they’re in a better place now,” and “you’ll get pregnant again.”

    She told me each time she heard these statements, it felt like another jab in her weary stomach. She didn’t care about getting pregnant again, better places, or higher reasons. When a mother’s unborn babies have been ripped away from her, no reason could ever make it right.

    She wasn’t in the headspace to feel better or think of a brighter future, she simply wanted to be acknowledged for the pain she was going through now, but no one had remained with her in the pain. They had all tried to make her feel better, which only made her feel worse.

    In our own discomfort of feeling painful emotions, we try to help others not feel theirs. It’s difficult for us to see someone we love suffering, and naturally, our first impulse is to try to make it go away, whether it’s through reason, logic, distraction, faith or any other means.

    We feel helpless, so we desperately reach for what we know, what we’ve been taught, and what others have done to us in our own moments of suffering. We offer trite words that deep down we know won’t help but we hold onto the hope that they will anyway because we don’t know what else to say or do.

    The more powerful choice is to simply be with someone, accepting and embracing the painful moment as is, without trying to fix or make it better. It goes against our natural urge to want to help, but often, this present moment acceptance of the deep emotions flowing through a person is exactly what they need to help them move through it, in their own time.

    As powerful as it is to shine a light for someone who’s ready to emerge, it is equally powerful to sit with them in the darkness until they’re ready.  

    After the session, Jen told me she felt relief for the first time since it happened, as if a weight had been lifted from her. She hadn’t realized it, but with each client, friend, and loved one who tried to make her feel better, she felt a mounting sense of pressure to feel better, as if there was something even more wrong with her for not being able to.

    She hadn’t been conscious of the constant pressure until it was gone, in our session, when she was finally allowed to feel exactly as she’d been feeling and was fully accepted in her pain.

    Stepping out into the hallway and turning back for a long melting hug, I sensed the profound shift in her energy, vastly different from when I had walked in an hour ago. She was still wounded but there was an element of acceptance in her pain, a faint glow of light within the darkness.

    This sacred, healing light only comes as a result of fully embracing the darkness. It can’t be forced, manipulated, or pushed into existence.

    This is the true power of accepting our own deep pain and sitting with someone in the dark as they feel theirs.

  • How to Identify Your Emotional Triggers and What to Do About Them

    How to Identify Your Emotional Triggers and What to Do About Them

    “Awareness is the birthplace of possibility. Everything you want to do, everything you want to be, starts here.” ~Deepak Chopra

    Ever wonder why some people respond in the same destructive way over and over even though they keep getting the same bad results?

    Many of us can relate to having unhealthy coping mechanisms and responses to things like stress, fear, or other agitating emotional states. Often, we are unaware of the subconscious processes going on and we may, for example, instinctively reach for an alcoholic beverage at the end of a long, hard day, never realizing we are setting ourselves for an addictive pattern that may one day claim our health, or possibly our life.

    I know this was certainly my situation. But, I was unable or unconscious of how to get out of this pattern of behavior—until I learned to identify my emotional triggers and re-route my unhealthy habitual responses.

    Addiction or other self-destructive behaviors or habits are learned responses to environmental and emotional triggers. You can un-learn these responses and create new ones, thus building a healthier way of engaging with the world, your emotional landscape, and your family and friends.  

    An example of one of my triggers is when someone downplays something I’ve achieved. One day I was talking to my husband about an accomplishment at work. His response? “Anyone could’ve done that.”

    I felt dismissed and belittled, as if what I had accomplished didn’t mean anything and had no value. Any time I felt dismissed in this way, I used to lash out in angry ways. Or worse, I’d get myself a large glass of wine and then another, and another.

    Was this a healthy or productive response? No. Did it resolve anything in a useful way? No. Was I in a position of power acting this way? No. In fact, I was allowing other forces and factors to control my behavior.

    It wasn’t until I realized where this emotional trigger came from that I began to recognize my actions for what they were: a reaction rather than a calm and poised response.

    I realized that I grew up with a perfectionist mother who would often criticize me if she didn’t feel like I was living up to her high standards. This often left me feeling devalued as a person, or “less than.” So, whenever I felt devalued, I lashed out in anger.

    I suppose this is a natural defense mechanism. But it was harmful to me in many ways because I never really acknowledged my pain, nor did I ever address it in a healthy way. Instead, I would often turn this anger inward upon myself and, in order to numb the pain, drink it down.

    This was an ongoing cycle for years and how I dealt with any kind of emotional pain: anger or sadness turned into inward hatred, and I drank to dull the pain.

    When we don’t recognize our triggers and our unhealthy reactions to them, it can lead us down a long, tortuous path.

    Part of my recovering from a debilitating substance abuse problem involved understanding how triggers work and also learning healthier ways of responding to them. This is why now when I feel dismissed or rejected, I give voice to those emotions. I open my mouth and say, “You know, that hurt my feelings because…”

    I have found that by giving my pain a voice, I no longer have to turn it inward upon myself and suppress it with alcohol. This helps keep me sober to this day.

    Let’s go over a few other emotional trigger examples:

    • A person who felt ignored and dismissed growing up might start yelling whenever they feel they aren’t being heard.
    • A person who had emotionally unavailable parents (or partners) may get insecure whenever someone isn’t there for them.
    • A person who felt controlled in the past might get angry when they think they’re being told what to do.
    • A person who felt helpless for years might panic when they’re in a situation over which they have no control.

    Do any of these emotional triggers resonate with you? Ask yourself, “How do I handle it when this occurs?” Many of us turn to food, alcohol, or other substances to dull our pain when faced with unresolved anger or other emotions.

    A trigger is simply a stimulus that evokes upsetting feelings, which may lead to problematic behaviors. We all have triggers, and we all have unhealthy ways in which we deal with them. But, we have the power to stop our automatic responses and re-route. The challenge is learning to identify our triggers and then recognizing them when they are happening.

    “Between stimulus and response there is a space. In that space is our power to choose our response. In our response lies our growth and our freedom.” ~Viktor E. Frankl

    Often, our triggers are experiences, situations, or stressors that unconsciously remind us of past traumas or emotional upsets. They “re-trigger” traumas in the form of overwhelming feelings of sadness, anxiety, or panic.

    The brain forms an association between the trigger and your response to it, so that every time that thing happens again, you do the same behavioral response to it. This is because what fires together, wires together.

    This means when neurons fire in the brain, they wire together the situation, emotions, and responses that caused that firing of the neurons in the first place. Sensory memory can also be extremely powerful, and sensory experiences associated with a traumatic event may be linked in the memory, causing an emotional reaction even before a person realizes why he or she is upset.

    Habit formation also plays a strong role in triggering. People tend to do the same things in the same way. For example, a person who smokes might always smoke while he or she is driving; therefore, driving could trigger an urge to smoke, often without the smoker’s conscious thought.

    Because our responses to triggers usually occur at the subconscious level, and we are completely unaware of the firing and wiring we have created, we are doomed to repeat self-destructive behaviors until we identify our triggers.

    Once we know our triggers and begin to recognize them when they happen, we can see them for what they are—over-reactions to a perceived threat. Then, we can learn to respond in ways that are more life affirming, useful, and healthy for us.

    There are two different types of reactions to triggers:

    Emotional

    We get stuck in negative emotions such as anger, sadness, or anxiety and react in extremely emotional ways—getting violent, yelling and screaming, withdrawing completely, etc.

    Physical

    We crave certain substances (food, sugar, alcohol, drugs, etc.) This happens because the emotional pain triggers our habitual way of indulging in some kind of physical activity that we are using to suppress the emotion or dull the pain.

    When it comes to physical reactions, it helps me to create space by doing something else, for example, taking a walk.

    For emotional reactions, it helps me to clearly communicate my feelings. Mostly I had to learn to understand my emotions, acknowledge them, and then give them a voice.

    Instead of unconsciously reacting to a trigger/stimulus, you can learn to consciously respond to them by doing what I call The Trigger and Response Exercise.

    Start by taking a sheet a paper and creating three columns. Title them: Trigger, Current Reaction, and New Response.

    In the Trigger column, write each one of your triggers. You can think of these as things that “push your buttons.”

    In the Current Reaction column, list how you normally react when this button is pushed.

    In the New Response column, write what you could do as a conscious response instead of your normal knee-jerk reaction.

    Below are a few examples:

    Example 1

    Trigger: When I feel that my spouse dismisses my comments or feelings about something

    Current Reaction: I get angry and yell at him.

    New Response: I’ll tell him my feelings were hurt.

    Example 2

    Trigger: When I feel insecure about my body

    Current Reaction: I eat a bag of cookies.

    New Response: I’ll go for a walk around the block.

    Example 3

    Trigger: When I get overwhelmed and stressed

    Current Reaction: I binge drink.

    New Response: I’ll practice deep breathing.

    Now that you’ve written your list of triggers and changed how you’ll respond, you’ve got to learn to make these responses your habitual way of being.

    Keep this list handy and use it as a guide. You can add new ways to manage your triggers as they come to you.

    Don’t get discouraged if you falter, as it takes time to learn new ways of being. Just keep practicing them, until over time, they become your new habits. In this way, you are powerful in that you consciously own and choose how you respond to people, situations, and circumstances. You aren’t blindly reacting anymore.

    Life is full of triggers, know this. But, also know you have the choice and the power to respond to those triggers in ways that are healthy and achieve better outcomes. In this way, you transform your life for good.

  • Emotional Pain Doesn’t Go Away When You Numb It (with Alcohol or Anything Else)

    Emotional Pain Doesn’t Go Away When You Numb It (with Alcohol or Anything Else)

    “Making a big life change is pretty scary. But know what’s even scarier? Regret.” ~Zig Ziglar

    It had been a long day at work. I’d had to work with new people, which always got my anxiety going, and had to put out a few fires. By the end of the day, I climbed into my car shaking on the outside and screaming on the inside. Sounds, light, and smells were like battering rams to my senses and my internal pressure was reaching explosive levels.

    I had a prearranged dinner with my mom and sister at a local restaurant, and I hardly remembered driving there. It may have been wiser to cancel, but they wouldn’t take it well and I didn’t want to be alone with my pain.

    I needed relief from the mental agony, to get some of the stress out, but my boyfriend was working and unavailable to talk and my family didn’t handle my “moods” very well. I was the first to arrive and ordered a glass of wine while I waited. It disappeared quickly.

    I got another glass and went a little more slowly, finally relaxing enough to fake a smile for my mother and sister when they joined me.

    Dinner was a blur as I tried to be enthusiastic and say and do all the right things, but when they left I felt all the pressure from earlier come back ten-fold. I made my way to the bar to numb the pain. Some time and several drinks later I blacked out. 

    I dealt with abuse and neglect growing up and was diagnosed with two mental health disorders as a young adult.

    I tried many medications but when they didn’t help, I sought relief from the only thing that seemed to numb my mental agony—alcohol. It never lasted long, so I needed more and more until I was out of my head or passed out.

    When I let myself, I can see a stream of images like a movie flash through my mind—so many nights spent getting wasted and countless mornings waking up unsure how I got home or where I had been.

    The emotional aftermath was its own hell—full of fear, vulnerability, and regret. Anything could have happened to me while I was out of it.

    I would have bruises from unknown sources and would be left wondering for days what had happened to me. Then would come the extra heartache and drama of finding out I had lost the tight reign on my emotions and trauma while drunk, spewed out all of my pain and anger, and hurt the people I love most.

    I was truly on the verge of jail or death when it finally clicked in my brain that it had to stop. I was out of control, and rather than healing from my trauma and problems I was creating more. I was building a new mountain of regret and hurtful memories, not freeing myself from the ones I already had.

    I was drinking to numb the pain, but after a few drinks my emotional pain would explode into more anger and despair. Worse, I could end up hurt, dead, or killing someone while I was out of it. Drinking was a quick fix with a long and heavy price.

    This clear memory came to my mind of a man in his fifties that I had seen at court with a long-standing list of alcohol-related problems, and I realized that could be me. I wanted to be happy, and some day soon, I wanted to have a family. But my drinking was destroying my relationships, my health, and my dreams.

    I decided it was enough and went to an online forum to declare my sobriety and get support and accountability. I also went to AA meetings. While there was a lot of shame and grief about what I’d been through and the things I had done, it was a relief to actually talk to others with similar experiences and not feel so isolated in my problems.

    They were real people who knew and understood my struggles and offered genuine compassion, encouragement, and advice. I made friends that I could contact when I was down and wanted to drink and they would help me through my pain.

    Once I had a good support system, I went to work on myself. I actively sought to be healthier and to learn how to cope with and manage my problems. So much of my experience as a child was out of my control, my issues and life were out of control, and I was sick of feeling powerless.

    I picked up books and online courses about my issues and personal healing. I started learning about mindfulness, the art of being present and understanding your thoughts and feelings. I made healthier choices in diet, exercise, and sleep. I found Dialectical Behavioral Therapy and other holistic therapies, which taught me survival skills like what to do in an emotional crisis.

    When I wanted to drink it was because of intense emotional pain, so I learned to ground myself. I would play that movie in my mind, see the aftermath of my drinking, and I would turn to one of the many coping mechanisms I learned like journaling, EFT, taking a walk, art, and using positive self talk and affirmations.

    I was so reluctant to give up alcohol. My mind made up a zillion reasons why I wasn’t an alcoholic and why I needed to numb my pain. But the truth was I was afraid to change and face the unknown, and I was afraid I would fail. I was ashamed of what my life had become and I didn’t want to be embarrassed and vulnerable by making it known.

    I think that is the heart of problem for all of us who struggle with addiction, numbing, and similar problems—fear, shame, vulnerability.

    We’re running from our problems, trying to escape the pain, and we’re afraid there’s no end, no help, and that we aren’t strong enough. Often, we’re lost in the depths with no clue which way is up. We don’t know where to turn or what to do until something wakes us up.

    I didn’t make the leap to change until I hit rock bottom and had no other choice. Until I accepted that my drinking was like putting a flame to a gas tank, and I didn’t want a life of pain and destruction.

    When I was finally honest with myself and accepted that I had to stop running from my pain and problems, I was able to let go of my drinking, start changing, and get the help I really needed. I went from a downward spiral of escapism to living with intention and thriving. I was able to start healing and making the life I wanted.

    I finally got in touch with my mind and body and was able to hear and understand what it was telling me, what I really needed. I learned to trust myself and be confident. I found the serenity and clarity I had been so desperately seeking. It took time and tears. There was embarrassment and shame. But there was also hope, happiness, and true change.

    If you are struggling with emotional pain, mental health, addictions, or other heavy burdens, there is hope and there is change.

    You can overcome your addictions, your destructive patterns, and your crutches. You don’t have to keep suffering. It can get better if you are brave and vulnerable and willing to start the process of healing.

    Don’t suffer in silence. Try to step outside of yourself and your pain to find support.

    I went online and to AA meetings to find others who would understand. I didn’t see them as different from me and isolate myself. I opened up, and those places became a safe space for me to really talk and get encouragement and help. I found a place I could talk about it where I would be seen with empathy not judgment. I was able to release my emotional pain without consuming me.

    Next, try to understand where your pain is coming from—what causes you to seek relief in your destructive behaviors.

    You can seek counseling, do personal research, and try alternative therapies. Journaling your thoughts and feelings can help you step back from your pain and find the source. There is no one way to do this; I tried all of these and found different elements in each that helped me to understand my pain.

    As you work to understand yourself and cope with your pain, you must replace your hurtful behaviors with healthy ones. Just quitting them leaves a hole that you will scramble to fill the next time you are in distress, and you will likely relapse or choose some other bad thing.

    I found coping mechanisms like art, walking, EFT, and others to help me express myself when I was hurting and wanted a drink. Now, I carry tools with me so I always have something healthy on hand to do when my pain strikes. I always remind myself that though it feels like it will last forever it always passes.

    As you work through your problems, you’ll find greater relief and freedom. You’ll be able to see and think more clearly, plan ahead, and react the right way when things go wrong. This is how you can build resilience and mindfulness. You can be aware of yourself and your needs and care for yourself in a healthy way.

    Sobriety was the best gift I could give myself to restore my emotional balance. It’s been over a year since I became sober, and I can see a real future for myself. I no longer live each day heavy with regret. I’ve come to accept and learn from my experiences, and I use them to make wiser choices and help others.

    Now when I go out, I know how my night will end—with a clear head and good memories. I don’t have to fake anything or run away anymore. I truly feel and live in each moment.

  • How to Deal with Painful Emotional Triggers in Your Relationships

    How to Deal with Painful Emotional Triggers in Your Relationships

    A comfort zone is a beautiful place, but nothing ever grows there.” ~Unknown

    I’ve been looking for a new job, so I recently decided to update my resume.

    “Hun, can you please help me with that?”

    “Of course, my love.”

    “Thanks, babe.”

    Not only did my wife help me revamp my resume, she drafted me a killer cover letter as well.

    “You’re the best, babe!”

    “Happy to help, sweetie.”

    I opened the cover letter the other day and found a discrepancy, something that immediately touched my deepest core wound.

    There, at the bottom of the page, where my name, email address, and phone number are supposed to go, was someone else’s phone number, not mine. It wasn’t even remotely close to being mine.

    Within a matter of seconds my panic alarm went off. Abandonment alert! Abandonment alert!

    Is my wife is cheating on me? Where did she meet this guy, and how long have they been talking to each other?

    No exaggeration. That’s right where my irrational thoughts went.

    I Googled the number and found that it belonged to a John Smith from Los Angeles. (That’s not his real name.) It was like pouring gasoline on an already burning fire. Who the heck is John Smith?

    As if that wasn’t bad enough, I went to Google images and saw that John Smith is a tall, slender, good-looking guy. WTF?! She’s sleeping with this guy. I just know it!

    Stop, Zach! Stop!

    I couldn’t. The part of me that’s afraid of being abandoned was in charge and driving the bus straight down to crazy town. What should have been contained (my fear of abandonment) leaked into our relationship.  

    I text my wife to ask if she was available for a quick phone call.

    “As long as it’s quick,” she replied.

    I had no intention of actually accusing my wife. I just wanted to ask if she knew whose number was at the bottom of my cover letter. At least that’s what I kept telling myself.

    “I’m not sure what you’re getting at,” she said.

    “I don’t know who John Smith is, nor have I ever seen that number before.”

    “I was just using a template that a friend gave me.”

    A template? Yeah right. Who the heck is this guy?

    I kept telling her that I wasn’t accusing her of anything, which was a complete joke. News flash, Zach: Anyone could’ve seen that I was accusing her even if I didn’t say the actual words. It was total covert manipulation on my part.

    And it gets worse.

    Talking to my wife wasn’t enough to ease my panicked mind, so I picked up my phone, blocked my number, and called John Smith. I’m gonna get to the bottom of this!

    Ladies and gentleman, we have a full blown blazing inferno.

    Turns out his name isn’t John Smith. It’s Bob Smith. (Again, not his real name.) After getting his voicemail I did one more Google search and found out that he works at the same company that my wife’s friend works at. The same friend that gave my wife the cover letter template that she used for me.

    I let out a deep sigh of relief because it finally all made sense. There was no other guy. It was just a larger than life story that I made up in my head.

    With the fire finally out, I took the steering wheel away from the part of me that lives in fear, called a friend, and told him what I did. In hindsight, it’s something I should’ve done right from the get go, but we have to make mistakes to learn and grow.

    Look, I get it, I was freaking out that day. Not because of something my wife did but because I was emotionally triggered and in a fearful place. I assumed she was cheating on me—“assumed” being the keyword—and then I reacted by blaming her for how I was feeling.

    But why?

    Emotional triggers stem from our past, and they can be very painful. When touched upon, we become hypersensitive and we make up stories like I did. We react and blame someone else because we don’t want to re-experience a painful childhood feeling.

    It’s a way for us to remain in control rather than feeling out of control like we felt when we were little. It’s a coping mechanism. An unhealthy one, but one nonetheless.

    When I was little, my mom died of cancer. It was painful and scary, and deep down that little boy, me, is positive that someone will leave him again. When that part of me gets triggered, it’s the scariest feeling in the world.

    Containing something that scary is difficult to do, but I believe necessary for our personal growth.

    I’ve put together a list of what I believe are healthy alternatives for dealing with thought patterns that can sabotage relationships in all areas of our lives. Remember, it’s not the fear destroys relationships; it’s how we handle them.

    Practice Healthy Boundaries

    My therapist and I talk a lot about healthy boundaries. A good boundary acts as a block for all that wants to come out, and it also acts as a filter for all incoming and outgoing information.

    For example, a healthy emotional boundary for me would’ve been to see the incoming information—the wrong number at the bottom of the cover letter—for what it really was: just a random wrong number.

    My wife has never given me a single reason to doubt her, ever, and this is where my fears should have come to an end, but instead I allowed the false information to seep in and affect me. That’s me having a bad personal boundary.

    Next, a healthy boundary would have prevented me from blaming my wife because boundaries help to regulate how reactive we are. They help us contain everything that so desperately wants to come out.

    When executed correctly, boundaries help us develop a better sense of self because we learn to hold ourselves accountable for our feelings and our behavior.

    Share Our Fears with a Close Friend/Mentor

    I called a trusted friend later that day, and he reminded me that I was reacting to a past experience. “Zach, the death of your mother was completely out of your control. She didn’t want to leave you. You’re not a bad person. She loved you.”

    Tears streamed down my face as he reminded me of this. I was finally feeling my feelings. The tension that consumed my body earlier in the day was gone.

    My friend encouraged me to write down all of the fearful thoughts that I had around this specific event. He reminded me that I’m powerless over a negative thought entering my mind but not over what I do with it.

    Writing helps with this because the longer we stay in our heads with our fearful thoughts, the worse the problem usually gets.

    Feel Our Feelings

    I’ll never get over the loss of my mother if I don’t learn to sit through my painful feelings every time they come up, and I can’t sit through the painful feelings if I’m reacting and blaming someone else for how I feel. That’s not me living my truth, and that’s not me developing a sense of self.

    Truth is, it’s scary when my abandonment wound gets triggered, but I’ll never get over the pain if I don’t learn to sit with it.

    What I should’ve done that day was allow myself to feel the emotional pain that was coming up for me and let it pass. That’s me leaning into and working through the feeling rather than reacting to it. Remember, it’s not someone else’s job to take care of us emotionally; it’s our job.

    I called my wife after talking to my friend and told her I was sorry. I told her that in the future I would do a better job containing the part of me that’s afraid of abandonment. She didn’t deserve to be blamed for a wrong number; that was all me.

    Bottom line, blaming someone else for how we feel doesn’t solve our problems. Honesty, feeling our feelings, and ownership does. We miss an opportunity for personal growth when we react and blame other people for how we’re feeling.

    It’s about progress, not perfection. Personal growth is a daily practice, and we’re all worth it. Even me. Namaste.

  • Why We Shouldn’t Rush or Feel Guilty About Emotional Pain

    Why We Shouldn’t Rush or Feel Guilty About Emotional Pain

    Deppresive Man

    He who has a why to live for can bear almost any how.” ~Friedrich Nietzsche

    In July 2012, a conversation changed my life.

    Prior to this, I had been struggling to right myself after a difficult loss. Several months had passed, yet I continued to revisit the same sad, angry place again and again. I believed the presence of these difficult emotions meant I was “doing it all wrong.”

    I thought, if I could figure out why these feelings were so persistent, I could make them vanish altogether. To assist in the quest, I enlisted the help of a spiritual mentor.

    I very carefully explained to him that, despite reading books, exercising, spending time with loved ones, eating good food, working, and indulging my passions and hobbies, the daily waves of sadness were still so strong it seemed as if I would drown in their undertow.

    “If I am doing all of the ‘right’ things,” I implored, “why am I still feeling this way?” If I had the answer to this question, surely I could be free of all of this nonsense and get my life back to normal (or something close to that).

    With the kindest eyes and gentlest smile, the man explained to me that the problem wasn’t anger, sadness, or loneliness—these were normal, healthy reactions to loss. The real issue was my erroneous belief that pain could be controlled with logic.

    What the…what now?

    Instinctively, I wanted to resist his rendition of my predicament. First, because my life’s work up until that point had been helping others “make sense” of their suffering. So, if pain could not be controlled, how could I help console those seeking pain relief?

    Secondly, my shame filter translated his gentle statement into, “What’s up, control freak?!”

    Shame does not allow for kind discourse.

    Once my resistance subsided, I realized the guru was right: False ideology was preferable to being with sadness, anger, and loneliness, the end date of which could not be predicted or scheduled. Further, I just plain old didn’t like how I had been humbled by loss.

    As the words left my mentor’s lips, something inside of me shifted. I did not feel angry, sad, or scared. A little annoyed, yes—sort of like a child being invited to part with her favorite blankie.

    The predominant feeling in that moment was relief.

    Once fully felt and accepted, the guru explained, emotional states will naturally dissipate over time. The determination to find out “why” was an unnecessary resistance to a tide that simply needed to ebb and flow on its own course. Thus far, swimming against the current did was doing little more than making my arms tired.

    I set a conscious intention that day: to do my best to let the waves of grief carry me wherever I was meant to go.

    It wasn’t all sunshine, rainbows, and Oprah Winfrey moments after that. In fact, it pretty much sucked for a while. But, after two or three months of swimming with the current, I felt more confident in my ability to survive the tide.

    Anyone who has lived or loved has been privy to emotions that seem to come and go without explanation. I believe we cannot control how we feel, but we can control how we choose to respond to these feelings when we have them.

    Healing resides in how we choose to respond to pain.

    Here are some things to keep in mind the next time the waters feel turbulent:

    1. Feelings do not have brains.

    Logic cannot “fix” feelings because feelings are not broken. Sometimes we are lucky enough to see a clear path between our heads and our hearts. For example, when someone says something hurtful, we understand why we may feel angry or hurt.

    There will also be times when feelings don’t make sense. They don’t need to. Whether your feelings have a logical explanation or not, recognize them as valid and trust that, when given permission to exist, they will eventually pass. (I promise they will.)

    2. The presence of pain is not an indication of failure.

    There will be times when pain persists, even though we are doing all of the “right things.” This does not mean that you have failed at anything. It just means you may need more time (see #3).

    Failure is the voice of shame. Shame simply heaps suffering on top of preexisting pain. No one deserves this, including you, so try to talk to yourself as you would a beloved friend when shame surfaces.

    3. There is no timeline for things that cannot be scheduled or controlled.

    Give yourself time and take as much of it as you need.

    4. Instead of fixating on why, ask what and how.

    Shift your attention away from why and ask yourself what’s happening in the present moment and how you feel about it. Loving acknowledgement is the first step toward acceptance.

    More often than not, “why” is a signpost for the inner child who falsely believes pain should not be part of life. Your feelings are a testament to your aliveness. The next time you hear yourself asking “why” you feel the way you do, I invite you to breathe, lean back, and let the tide carry you wherever you were meant to go.