Tag: sad

  • The Truth About Repressing Emotions: Lessons from a Child’s Meltdown

    The Truth About Repressing Emotions: Lessons from a Child’s Meltdown

    “Cry as often as you need to. It’s the all-purpose healing balm of the soul.” ~Karla McLaren, The Language of Emotions: What Your Feelings Are Trying to Tell You

    A few years ago, a good friend invited me to his six-year-old daughter’s birthday party.

    As I walked through his front door, I was greeted by the cheerful sound of children running around, their tiny feet pounding on the hardwood floor as they expertly avoided the table full of gifts in the living room.

    Their parents looked just as excited, many enjoying the opportunity to finally have adult conversations (even if they were interrupted by their little ones every few minutes).

    My friend’s daughter was particularly thrilled on her special day.

    At one point, she bounced down the stairs, holding a giant helium balloon shaped like an exotic parrot. She tied the string to her hand and paraded it around proudly, followed by a swarm of children pleading to hold it for “just a few minutes.”

    By this time, most guests had moved to the backyard to enjoy the sunny weather. I was chatting with a friend on the porch, observing the celebration in full swing, when suddenly I heard a scream.

    I turned to see what all the commotion was about. To my surprise, I saw the coveted parrot balloon gently floating away, its bright colors dancing defiantly against the clear blue sky. And directly below it was my friend’s daughter, having a full-blown six-year-old meltdown.

    Undeterred, my friend went over to the middle of the backyard where his daughter was standing and brought her back to a quiet area on the porch next to where I was sitting.

    I wanted to give them privacy, but the mediator in me was secretly glad to be able to overhear how he would handle this predicament. I was used to dealing with adults in conflict. That said, I had minimal experience with six-year-old meltdowns.

    I listened intently as he leaned over and gently said to her, “You’re upset, and that’s okay. You can be upset, but not here because we have guests at home. Why don’t you go upstairs to your room? You can be as upset as you want there. Would you like me to come with you and cuddle with you?”

    His daughter stopped wailing, sniffed a couple of times, and shyly nodded yes to her father’s offer.

    The guests, though well-intentioned, were only fueling her distress with their anxious glances and nervous energy. In that moment, it was clear he wasn’t just trying to keep the party running smoothly. He was also focused on ensuring his daughter had a calm, private space to decompress, away from the crowd’s well-meaning but overwhelming concern.

    My mouth was hanging open at this point.

    You see, I grew up with the well-intended message that I should not feel certain emotions. “Don’t be upset” and “Don’t cry” were common phrases in my family. This taught me that emotions were something to be ashamed of rather than embraced.

    Instead of processing my emotions, I seem to have built up an internal archive of unacknowledged feelings. As much as I hoped they would magically disappear, they have stuck around, cluttering my psyche and seeping out at the most inopportune moments. I suspect many of us grew up with this type of messaging—well-meaning but emotionally restrained.

    I wonder if, in that process, we learned to silence the very parts of us that make us human.

    I used to blame my parents for denying me the ability to process my emotions effectively. I would ruminate in frustration, Why didn’t they encourage me to express myself? Why was sensitivity met with so much discomfort?

    But now I realize that’s a very one-sided view of things.

    My parents’ struggles ran much deeper than mine. They fled their home country as refugees, with nothing more than $200 in their bank account and the weight of survival on their shoulders. There wasn’t time for this thing we now call “emotional well-being.”

    Their world was about making it to the next day, finding work, shelter, food—anything to build a life for us from the ground up. Emotions, in that context, were a luxury they simply couldn’t afford. They weren’t trying to shut me down; they were trying to protect me from the harsh realities they faced every day.

    As much as I understand this intellectually, those ingrained patterns of suppression remained entrenched within me for many years.

    As adults, we often unconsciously send ourselves the same messages from our childhood. We distract ourselves instead of processing our emotions. Feeling sad? I bet there’s a great new series to binge-watch. Upset about something? Why not take another peek at your online shopping cart?

    A little distraction never hurt anyone. But if it’s the only strategy we use, it short-circuits our emotional processing and causes our feelings to linger and fester.

    I don’t know what my friend said or did in the room with his daughter. I imagine he gave her a big hug and let her cry her little heart out so that she could properly grieve the loss of her special balloon.

    What I do know is that she emerged back at her birthday party feeling calm and smiling, and she was able to enjoy the rest of the celebration with her friends—birthday cake, regular balloons, gifts, and all.

    This experience left me wondering about all the moments in my life that I had missed out on because of unprocessed emotions.

    How many experiences, big or small, had I not appreciated because that archive of unprocessed emotions was being triggered?

    What was the hidden cost of this on my relationships, work, and well-being?

    At the end of my life, how would I feel about the time that I spent missing out on my life instead of being more fully present?

    I stared into space, pretending to admire the beautiful backyard, as I contemplated these questions.

    When I went home that evening, I made a life-changing decision.

    I decided that whenever I felt like that little girl who lost her balloon, I’d take some quiet time and allow myself to feel my emotions. I’d especially make sure to feel the uncomfortable ones—disappointment from unmet expectations, frustration caused by stress at work, sadness resulting from the loss of something precious to me.

    I can’t say that it’s always pleasant to dive headfirst into the depths of your pain. Sometimes I need to take a break and make good use of those distraction tactics. When I do, I remind myself that it’s not about being perfect; it’s about being whole.

    My hope is that when I look back on my life at the end of my days, I’ll know that I embraced all of the emotions we humans are designed to feel. And that, because of this, I was able to enjoy more of my life feeling calm and smiling—just like that lovely little six-year-old girl.

    So, I’m curious, what have you learned about emotions from the children in your life?

  • A Gentle Reminder to Anyone Who’s Struggling This Holiday Season

    A Gentle Reminder to Anyone Who’s Struggling This Holiday Season

    “It’s okay to want to be alone. It’s okay to take time for yourself.” ~Kate Allan

    It’s the holiday season, the most wonderful time of the year, they say, but it’s not for all of us. For those of us coping with the loss of a loved one, family estrangement, loneliness, financial difficulties, or health struggles, the holidays can be one of the hardest times of the year.

    For some of us the holidays can feel as if we have been cast out in the cold. As if we are forced to look through a window of a happy, loving family.

    Many of us are filled with feelings of longing for things that can never be, such as more time with a loved one we have lost or a supportive family. We find ourselves swept into memories of holidays past or lost in fantasies about what the holidays would be like if we had a different life.

    We find ourselves feeling pressured to hide our problems, bake a dozen cookies, put on a happy smile and an ugly Christmas sweater, and attend that office holiday party. There, we smile and engage in exhausting small talk, and do our best to avoid the subject of what we are doing for the holidays.

    These events can leave us feeling totally depleted. We buy obligatory gifts for our friends or coworkers, and we spend hours trying to figure out what they might like. After the gift is purchased, we second guess ourselves and worry that we missed the mark.

    Some of us might host parties and obsess over making our tree look absolutely perfect in a desperate effort to please others and give people the impression that everything is fine.

    Society has filled our heads with unrealistic notions about perfect gifts, immaculate homes decorated with lavish matching decorations, endless resources to spend, and happy times spent with family. Some of us find ourselves exhausted and stressed trying to live up to social pressures or expectations of others.

    Over the years, as I have struggled with various losses in my life or felt cast aside by family members, I have learned that the most important thing we can do over the holidays is take care of ourselves.

    As an altruistic person who goes out of the way to please everyone, taking care of myself does not come easily to me. In the past I felt guilty for putting my own needs first, but over the years I’ve learned that our own needs are just as important as everyone else’s. If we sacrifice ourselves to please others, it can not only be harmful to ourselves but those around us as well.

    If you are struggling this holiday season, take time to reflect on how you would like to spend the holidays. Remember, you don’t have to buy the perfect gift for everyone, put up a tree, decorate the entire house, spend hours baking cookies, or even attend that family gathering.

    If you are worried that a friend will be disappointed that you are not attending an event, you can suggest that you meet up for coffee when you’re feeling up to it.

    In the past I worried that a friend would judge me for not attending a holiday event. However, over the years I have learned that true friends are empathetic and do not judge us for needing to take time for ourselves.

    The most important thing you can do if you are struggling during the holiday season is pay attention to your own needs and do what you feel is best for you.

    If you feel like curling up on the couch with Netflix or a good book and a pet instead of going to a party or a family gathering, give yourself permission. It can sometimes be better for our health and well-being to decline an invitation and rest.

    If you are someone who is used to keeping busy, the holidays can become more difficult because our workplaces are often closed or slower than other times of the year.

    In order to cope, I create a to-do list filled with new recipes I want to cook or bake, household cleaning that would be helpful to do, movies/shows I want to watch, places I want to go to see Christmas lights, and other things I have wanted to do. I also buy myself something that I have always wanted but don’t necessarily need as a form of self-love and self-affirmation.

    I also engage in volunteer work because when I am helping others I feel less alone and have less time to ruminate about the past or events that are outside of my control.

    I have discarded holiday traditions that did not bring me joy. I don’t go to church or make desserts with dried fruit or decorate my tree with handmade ornaments that are unsafe for my pets. I try not to buy material gifts for all of my friends. Instead, I treat friends to events such as concerts, art gallery exhibits, or museum shows we can enjoy together.

    I have held onto a few traditions that have made me happy. A childhood friend used to buy me a hallmark ornament as a gift, and now I buy one for myself. I donate to a charity, and I buy a gift for a for a child in need.

    I have also started to create my own traditions such as making my favorite cake and taking a break from digital communication. Each day I take time to feel grateful for the things that I have and the people and pets that help to make my life magical.

    I don’t force myself to do anything I am not feeling up for, and I do not spend time with people I do not feel comfortable being around. Once I started doing this, the holidays stopped being draining, exhausting, and socially challenging and started to become relaxing and peaceful.

    When I find myself feeling down, I remind myself that all situations are temporary, and the future could look very different. There may be other holiday seasons when I feel upbeat, excited, and eager to spend time with people who love me. But for now, I need to love myself, and that means doing what’s best for me.

    The best thing that any of us can do this holiday season is be kind to ourselves and take care of ourselves like we would our closest friend. This is the best holiday gift we can give ourselves.

  • Healing from Abandonment Trauma: 3 Things I Learned from Being Cheated On

    Healing from Abandonment Trauma: 3 Things I Learned from Being Cheated On

    “The wound is the place where the light enters you.” ~Rumi

    I want to share an experience I went through that hurt like hell, but that helped me so much in the long run.

    The experience was being “cheated on,” though the woman wasn’t my girlfriend. Nevertheless, I was very attached and it felt awful.

    So, let me start with the backstory.

    I met Diana through mutual friends in late 2021. I thought she was cute, and a little anxious, which I seem to gravitate toward. That’s just my savior complex coming out, which is another story for another day.

    Eventually we hooked up after a holiday party and continued hooking up regularly. I began to have stronger feelings for Diana than I anticipated, though I tried to play it cool and not cause any awkwardness in the group.

    Things started deteriorating between us at one point, and it culminated in Diana going home with another guy basically in front of me.

    Needless to say, I was devastated.

    My friend who introduced me to Diana was there, and he asked me, “Are you catching feelings?” I was so angry that he would try to shame me into not feeling what I was feeling. I said, “Yes, I am” and left immediately.

    On the way home, I was screaming in my car, and I even punched my steering wheel, which I had never done before. I was so triggered and mad. There was a tornado of emotion ripping through my chest—anger, grief, worthlessness, desperation.

    The next day, I woke up and left the house to get a smoothie. I didn’t want to be by myself as I was going through this.

    Initially I didn’t feel so bad, but I knew that the wave was going to hit me sooner or later. I started rereading books on relationships that I had read before. Books like Fear of Intimacy by Robert Firestone and Facing Love Addiction by Pia Mellody. Luckily, I had these books to turn to for guidance.

    Over the next two weeks I cried multiple times on my way to work, or on the way home from running errands. I even pulled over a few times to bawl my eyes out and wail alone in my car before continuing.

    Over the next couple of months, I worked on processing the grief and pain. Occasionally I would dive deep and get a memory of childhood abandonment, the real source of the pain. I’d get a memory of my mom not being there for me…

    While I was growing up, my mom worked all the time to support our family. And we had such a big family that one-on-one time was basically nonexistent.

    That meant there were countless times when I felt lost, abandoned, and overlooked.

    Being deeply hurt by Diana gave me the opportunity to go right to the source of the pain, my original abandonment experiences. Daily meditation and journaling helped whittle away the pain.

    It was slow progress for a while. I even stopped writing for a few weeks because I was overwhelmed with emotion. But eventually I began to feel like myself again.

    The first two months were rough, the next two were a little better, and after six months I was finally out of the weeds. But more than that, I feel better than I did before I met Diana.

    I feel as if my baseline level of security and happiness is higher. The way I think about it is that my abandonment experiences were heavy boulders weighing down my soul. Not carrying them around feels so much lighter.

    I must have spent over 100 hours meditating to let go of these emotions, and I’ve learned a few things in the process…

    1. Present pain is compounded by pain from the past. If you want to be free, heal the original wound.

    2. We seek what is familiar in relationships, even at the expense of our safety and happiness. And what is familiar is the love we received from our parents. If we want to have better relationships, we need to heal our past or we will repeat what we know endlessly.

    3. We get what we need to heal in relationships. And I think that’s beautiful. While things might suck in the short-term, you’ll come to know that life has your best interests at heart. Now that this episode is over, I’m glad life gave me the experience I needed to heal.

    Now it’s time for a counterintuitive move that helped me close this chapter in my life.

    I used to think “being left by Diana like that hurt so bad and I wouldn’t want to experience it again, but I am glad that I was able to learn and grow from it.”

    But that thought reveals that there is more work for me. To get closure from this experience, I had to open myself up to going through it again (but trusting life to not be so cruel).

    It’s not what you would think would help, but when you run from an experience you are still controlled by it.

    And if your goal is genuine freedom, you need to open yourself up to it. Of course, I will still be cautious going forward, just not fearful.

    Once I opened myself up to experiencing that same pain and hurt, I became freer. I took off the armor I was wearing, and I know that life can be trusted to have my back.

    I’d rather live with an open heart and get hurt than live closed off. That’s the way of freedom.

    “You have to keep breaking your heart until it opens.” ~Rumi

  • How to Deal With Low Moods: A 4-Step Plan to Help You Feel Better

    How to Deal With Low Moods: A 4-Step Plan to Help You Feel Better

    “And some days life is just hard. And some days are just rough. And some days you just gotta cry before you move forward. And all of that is okay.” ~Unknown

    I have always struggled with low moods. I guess that considering that I spent close to twenty years of my life inactive and depressed, this could be seen as progress. But that still didn’t feel good enough.

    I wanted to feel more balanced, light, and happy, and I wanted to achieve it in natural ways without having to take any kind of medication since that hadn’t worked for me in the past.

    So I began to research. I asked around. I read books. I watched videos. I became a psychotherapist.

    Most people can’t tell you how you shift out of low or bad moods. Sit with it, they say.

    And sure, that is a huge help because, up until that point, I would beat myself up over being in a low mood, which just made things worse.

    So ditching that beating-myself-up habit did help a lot.

    But here’s how I went further with it.

    During my studies and my experiences as a psychotherapist, I realized that everything has a cause. It might look random, but it never is. So there had to be a reason for my low moods. It was time for a lot of self-observation and self-exploration.

    Funnily enough, my work with my clients helped me uncover what I was looking for. It is, after all, always so much easier to see it in other people than it is to find it in yourself.

    I discovered that my moods were primarily linked to two things.

    The first one was needs, or more accurately, unmet needs.

    The second one was feelings, unexpressed feelings.

    Before my healing journey, there was no way for me to change my mood in any way because I wasn’t aware of my needs, and all I ever did was suppress and inhibit my feelings.

    Both of these things logically result in low moods.

    So why didn’t I meet my needs or feel my feelings? These simply weren’t things I had been taught how to do. In fact, suppressing my feelings was encouraged. No, it was demanded.

    If I didn’t, I would get punished. I would get hit. And a child learns very quickly how to keep themselves safe, so that’s what I did.

    I remember this one time I got bullied really badly. As I walked into the family home, I collapsed on the floor and cried. This was not something I had ever done before. It was a rare occasion. I had a proper breakdown.

    My mother looked at me in disgust, stepped over me, and carried on with cleaning the house.

    I don’t exactly remember how long I lay there, but it must have been a long time because she repeatedly stepped over me and ignored me in my pain.

    So that’s what I learned to do to myself.

    Whatever was going on, I ignored it.

    I never stopped to ask myself what I needed or how I felt. I didn’t give myself any reassurance or encouragement. I didn’t help myself in any way, so my only go-to point was depression or a low mood.

    On the inside, I kept my loudly screaming needs and feelings locked up in a tiny little jar just waiting to explode. I had to keep my moods low to keep the pressure down. I had to be quiet to make sure I didn’t accidentally unlock the biggest scream the world had ever heard.

    Today, I realize that my low moods were symptoms of me ignoring myself, not feeling my feelings, and not meeting my needs.

    I didn’t know how to honor my feelings and needs then, but I learned how during my work and healing journey.

    When a low mood visits me today, I don’t step over myself. I don’t repeat the patterns of the past. I don’t repeat the lack of kindness and warmth. Instead, I do these four things:

    1. I dig deep instead of surrendering to my low mood.

    I no longer just leave myself in it. I don’t just tolerate it.

    I notice it, stay with it, and love myself too much to not do anything about it.

    Instead, I get curious.

    2. I accept instead of fighting my low mood.

    There’s no point in putting yourself down when you’re already feeling low.

    You’re not doing anything wrong when you feel bad.

    It’s just a sign that you need to check in with yourself and figure out what’s going on for you so that you can take care of yourself in a healthy and loving way.

    So that’s what I do.

    3. I ask, “What’s going on for me?

    Sometimes it’s obvious what’s impacting my mood. It could be a bad night’s sleep, an argument, or a cold.

    Sometimes it’s harder to figure out what’s going on, but then it’s important that I stay with it and don’t just shrug it off.

    In my experience, mood management has a lot to do with emotional self-care.

    I ask myself:

    • What feelings might I be suppressing?
    • In what ways might I be inhibiting or censoring myself?
    • Am I staying in the wrong kinds of relationships for me?
    • Do I forget to set boundaries?
    • Am I not having enough fun or variety?
    • Do I need to stretch myself more and grow?

    Learning how to meet my needs and feel my feelings were the two most important aspects of my healing journey. So much started to make sense once I knew what to do about my feelings or needs.

    My moods weren’t just random anymore. They made sense. And if they didn’t, I knew that I hadn’t found all of the puzzle pieces yet.

    4. I have compassion for myself.

    It’s wonderful to be a human. It’s also hard.

    We have feelings and moods and needs and relationships and dreams and fears and so much else going on.

    It’s not simple, and it’s not easy.

    We have to give ourselves some credit for all the great things that we achieve and do.

    But most of all, we have to appreciate who we are and how we are.

    We want to improve things. We want to feel better and be better for ourselves and for others. That alone needs to be celebrated!

    The not giving up. The striving to grow. The commitment to healing. All of that needs to be acknowledged.

    And all of you deserves compassion. Low mood or not.

  • How My Son Taught Me That Crying Can Boost My Mental Health

    How My Son Taught Me That Crying Can Boost My Mental Health

    “And some days life is just hard. And some days are just rough. And some days you just gotta cry before you move forward. And all of that is okay.” ~Unknown

    Over the years I’ve built myself a bit of a reputation as “the emotional one.”

    I was always the first to cry at weddings, and that included my own. At that one I barely stopped throughout the ceremony! And as soon as I’m beyond the half-way point of any good holiday, it’s inevitable that a pretty epic sob is waiting in the wings.

    At this point I should probably mention that I’m a forty-three-year-old male. I also live in the UK, a country that’s proud of its “Bulldog spirit” and “stiff upper lip.” What this really means is that we’re a country where many people are uncomfortable with their own emotions, and shockingly bad at processing them.

    That brings me on to the point of this post—and it’s a happy post. I’m delighted to report that in the past few years I’ve come to see the true value in being able to cry, and being unashamed to do so.

    This doesn’t mean I’m somebody who has frequent public meltdowns that make people uncomfortable! In fact, it’s quite the opposite. I’ve reached the point where I’ve learned to recognize my own internal pressure valve. I know when it needs releasing, and know how to do it in a private, dignified, and healthy way.

    Human beings are the only animals with the ability to cry. It clearly has a purpose, and it doesn’t take much research to discover it has serious benefits, both mentally and physiologically. Crying is thought to reduces stress hormones and relax the nervous system.

    There are alternatives to crying, and we see them all the time: unhealthy behaviors, addictions, outbursts of anger and violence, and patterns of arguments and disharmony.

    That takes me back to the whole “stiff upper lip” thing. Emotions have to come out somewhere, and in my experience it’s the people who are fixated on being “strong” and “manly” who live lives cluttered with arguments and hangovers.

    On balance, I’d much rather have the ability to cry, and no shame in doing so. Recently, I feel I’ve learned to take it further than that to the point that I can use crying as an extremely useful tool in my mental health armoury.

    So, what got me to that point? The answer is simple: fatherhood.

    My oldest son has just turned seven years old. And he’s very much like me. It’s a much-misused word, but he’s a “sensitive” lad. He’s hugely empathetic, and a wonderful gentle soul. He’s also very sentimental and—again like me—as likely to be touched by joy as by sadness.

    Like everyone else in the world, we’ve had a challenging time since the pandemic began. One of the hardest parts has been navigating the children through it. This means dealing with their lockdown loneliness, but also constantly working out what to tell them so they’re as protected as possible without us insulting their intelligence.

    Another part of this is recognizing when it’s all getting a bit much for them.

    I can pretty accurately predict when a “meltdown” is incoming for my son. And I always ensure that I’m there ready for him when he wants to let the tears out. I encourage him to take as long as he needs. I cringe when I see parents saying, “that’s enough now,” or worse.

    None of this means I’m trying to raise a child who’s constantly in tears! But I am trying to raise a child who knows that having a good howl is a wiser and more evolved way of releasing emotion than punching somebody in the playground or having an undignified argument.

    While I’ve been teaching him this, I’ve been learning myself. Just as I’ve learned to predict when he may soon need to “let it all out,” I’ve become much more attuned to when I need to too.

    I have some mental health issues. Anxiety is the main one, with a generous scattering of OCD and some periodic depression as the cherries on top.

    One thing that indicates my mental health is in trouble is when I can’t cry. Depression is often misunderstood. For me, when it’s at its worst, it manifests as being emotionally empty and numb.

    In fact, “the big cry” often marks the turning point in a spell of depression. It means I’ve started to feel again. I’ve learned the pattern over many years, and it’s now got to the point where I can say “I need to cry.”

    And that’s a really powerful thing. I know what I need to do, so that empowers me to consciously try to do it nowadays.

    As we’ve already established, crying can release stress hormones and calm the nervous system. Who wouldn’t want to do that, especially during a spell of poor mental health?

    The trouble is, far too many people are conditioned to feel ashamed of showing emotion. But it’s not like I phone all my mates and say, “I’ve been feeling a bit low, so I’m setting aside an hour today to go in the bedroom with a bunch of sad songs and some tissues.”

    This last happened just a few days ago, and I did tell my wife my intentions. That in itself involved a little embarrassment and vulnerability. But when I re-emerged a little later, she said that I looked like a different person—with a bounce in my step and colour back in my cheeks.

    That’s why I’ve written this. It is deeply personal, because nobody’s ever proud of having a good cry. I can’t help wondering whether that should change.

    I am proud that my children don’t have to live in a house where there are needless arguments. A home where we process emotions in a healthy way—a way that humans alone have access to.

    So get that “crying tunes” playlist ready. Learn which old photos set you off, or which films are certain to “hit you in the feels.” And don’t be afraid to tuck yourself away for a while and use the power of emotion to enhance your mental health.

    To be clear, this isn’t a weapon I have to deploy frequently or publicly, but it’s one I’ve come to love having at my disposal. It’s there for you too, so don’t be scared or embarrassed to make use of it. The alternatives may be more popular with the “stiff upper lip” crowd, but they don’t benefit them, or the people around them.

    Let it out.

  • When You Feel Bad About Feeling Sad and Anxious

    When You Feel Bad About Feeling Sad and Anxious

    “You don’t have to be brave all of the time. You are not damaged or defeated. Have patience. Give yourself permission to grieve, to cry, and to heal. Allow a bit of compassion, you’re doing the best you can. We all are.” ~Unknown

    Growing up, I received the message that everything had to look a certain way. It was only okay to feel positive emotions, and any expression of unruly emotions was totally unacceptable.

    It wasn’t that anyone directly said this to me. I wasn’t given a written set of rules to follow. I wasn’t given any speeches or trainings about how to present myself in public. But the message came across.

    It was relayed to me in phrases like “Don’t cry, you’re fine,” “Relax, people are watching,” “Just ignore them,” and “Don’t let things bother you.” It was conveyed to me through subtle criticisms of my reactions, which in my mind translated to “You aren’t good enough if you feel bad.”

    In many ways, I was raised to feel uncomfortable with my emotions. I came to believe that negative emotions were a defect within me rather than a natural and essential part of my being. It wasn’t anything my parents did deliberately to try and hurt me. In fact, they were probably trying to avoid seeing me in pain. They were simply following what most people and parents do.

    We advise others to avoid their pain and upset feelings. To snap back into shape, even after immense tragedy. 

    We hear things like “Your cousin died? Well, he’s in heaven now.” “You had to put your dog to sleep? Well, he’s just crossed the rainbow bridge; and anyway, you can always get another dog.”

    People don’t advise you to sit with uncomfortable emotions. They don’t tell you it’s okay to feel sad, hurt, or scared.

    As a young and impressionable little person, I internalized my parents’ messages and fought against every “negative” emotion I had. That is, until the feelings I was trying so hard to avoid took over my body and manifested themselves as a series of seemingly unexplainable health issues and panic attacks.

    As I got older, I became so anxious that I couldn’t hide it anymore. Once I reached the point of being uncontrollably uncomfortable, I set out on a journey of self-exploration.

    I came to realize that my only choice was to examine what I was feeling and explore what those feelings could tell me about myself. For the first time in my life, I decided to figure out what my emotions were really about. I decided to find out why I was so damn anxious.

    Many of us are embarrassed and ashamed of our own feelings and thoughts. 

    We think our unfavorable emotions make us weak, and we worry that other people would think less of us if they knew how bad we actually felt. If we allow dominant ideas about tough emotions to take over our own thoughts, we can wind up feeling shame for the rest of our lives.

    When we’re emotional, we can feel completely powerless, like we’re never going to gain any kind of control over our thoughts, bodies, or surroundings. It can feel so uncomfortable to be upset that we choose to numb ourselves rather than risk feeling any pain.

    For so many years, I had it all wrong. But once it clicked, everything changed.

    The point of being alive isn’t to numb our feelings; we’re always going to feel something, and sadness is always going to try expressing itself in our lives. That’s a fact of life. We can try to avoid it all we want, but the more we distance ourselves from this reality, the more control it gains over us. 

    Freedom comes when we can feel our tough emotions expressing themselves, but no longer let them rule our lives. 

    The more we try to avoid our true nature, the more whatever we don’t want to feel shows up with a vengeance.

    The more I tried to rid myself of worry, sadness, negative thoughts, and panic attacks, the more they seemed to persist. The more they persisted, the more reactive I got to feeling anxiety. And the more reactive I became, the more power anxiety had over my life.

    When we try to get rid of anything in life, we create resistance; and the more we resist something, the more it shows up. Famous psychologist Carl Jung stated that “what you resist not only persists, but will grow in size.” So, the goal here isn’t to get rid of anxiety, panic attacks, or sadness, it’s to work on our intolerance of those feelings. It’s to learn how to manage ourselves through the discomfort of it all.

    We don’t gain comfort, self-compassion, and calm by resisting or wishing things were different; we reach true calm by letting it be okay when we’re sad and anxious, and then letting it go.

    The more you fight it, the more it will show up; the more you let it be, the less power it will have over you.

    This is, of course, easier said than done. It’s a natural instinct to try banishing anything that feels uncomfortable. However, by continuously practicing deep acceptance for what is, we put ourselves in the best position to change it, or even achieve freedom from it, so that we can move past it.

    Here’s what I did to pull myself back from numbing myself and stumble into my new world with tolerance of my emotions:

    1. Know that it’s okay to be anxious and upset.

    Without a doubt, the most important thing to remember is that it’s okay to feel overwhelmed and stressed out. It’s okay to feel lost and unsure. It’s alright to have no idea how you’re going to hold it together sometimes. We put so much pressure on ourselves to be happy all the time. It’s okay to acknowledge when times are tough. It’s alright to feel anxious, even if it’s uncomfortable.

    2. Become an observer of your life.

    Instead of judging and getting angry with myself for feeling a certain way, I decided to be an observer of my emotions and environment. I chose to slow down and watch. I remind myself that when we’re busy judging ourselves for the way we feel, we aren’t honoring ourselves.

    Our emotions are involuntary; we have no control over them. However, what we do have control over is how we decide to respond to those emotions. When we accept our emotions as they come, take ownership of them, and avoid taking them out on the people we love, we train ourselves to manage our emotions from within.

    3. Decide who you want to be.

    I’ve found that it’s much easier to be happy, nice, and upbeat when your life is going well. It’s a lot harder to hold onto yourself when stress and anxiety are high. Knowing this, I work at trying to stay true to who I am, even in unfortunate situations. Even if I’m feeling agitated or upset, I know I can choose to respond in ways that allow me to shine through. Just because I’m not feeling so great, doesn’t mean I need to take it out on anyone I care about.

    4. Know it’s okay to feel strong emotions.

    During hard times our emotions can feel more intense. We may lose hope or be more reactive. Even though it’s totally fine to maintain an optimistic perspective of life, it’s also important to allow ourselves to process and feel the full spectrum of emotions.

    5. Remember that even negative emotions have a place in our lives.

    Sadness, anger, frustration, boredom, anxiety etc. all have a place in our lives. The key is not to avoid or numb these emotions, but to experience them and learn to manage them effectively so they don’t run our lives.

    Unfortunately, many of us don’t know how to manage our negative feelings—in part, because we’ve been taught to repress them. As children, many of us are told not to cry, which leads us to believe that crying is bad.

    As adults, when we experience emotions like depression or anxiety, our natural impulse is usually to mask those feelings. We may have an inner voice telling us to forget about it; we may even turn to drugs, food restriction, or binge eating to distract us from our emotions.

    As human beings, we’re simply incapable of numbing a select set of emotions. So, when we numb sadness, we also numb happiness, joy, and other positive emotions. What’s worse is that as we struggle with our own negative emotions, we may create even more suffering. It’s hard work to deny something we’re truly feeling. It takes energy; it wears us down. So rather than try to ignore our feelings, it better serves us to work on observing them.

    It’s alright to admit that you’re hurting or struggling. We all go through hard times. And maybe we can find a bit of comfort in remembering that we aren’t alone. But first, we must accept what’s happening. Then we can decide how we want to best deal with it.

  • Think You Should Be Happy? It’s Okay to Feel Bad

    Think You Should Be Happy? It’s Okay to Feel Bad

    “We have so little faith in the ebb and flow of life, of love, of relationships. We leap at the flow of the tide and resist in terror its ebb.” ~Anne Morrow Lindbergh

    From an early age, most of us get the message that we should be happy—from well-meaning parents, teachers, and even perfect strangers. “Smile!” we are told. “Why the long face?” we are asked. It’s no wonder we grow up with the idea that feeling anything less than sunny 24/7 is somehow wrong.

    We’re ashamed to admit, even to ourselves, that sometimes we feel down. It seems that somehow we’ve failed, or that life is cheating us of our due. Facebook and Instagram certainly don’t provide a more balanced view: Everyone else is seemingly on the constant high that has become our society’s norm.

    The trouble is, life’s not really like that, and when we expect it to be we only end up feeling worse. There’s almost a sense of panic when a less-than-euphoric period lasts too long (and I’m not talking about clinical depression here, just a garden-variety restlessness or boredom). We just don’t tolerate the lows very well anymore, craving a continuous fix of what the ego calls “happiness.”

    I’ve personally bought in to the continuous happiness myth many times, and still have to remind myself that it is just that—a myth.

    From true valley experiences like sickness or divorce, to the days when life feels just plain old “blah,” my first reaction is usually to try to “fix it.” Something must be wrong, right? I shouldn’t feel this way—I should be happy!

    Something that has helped me a great deal is to substitute another word for “happiness,” a term that’s broad enough to encompass a more normal range of emotion: well-being. 

    You can continue to have a sense of well-being even in the midst of a low period. Well-being simply recognizes that life is a series of peaks and valleys, both in the macro view and on a daily basis. It is artificial (and impossible) to insist on a constantly in-flowing tide.

    So how do we cultivate a sense of well-being? It starts with self-talk. Most of our emotional reactions to life come from the way we label our experience. The ego will jump to conclusions on very little evidence and then hit the panic button: “Oh, no! Depression alert! Not feeling good—this is a problem!!”

    Try this instead: “Hmmm. I’m feeling a little down lately. I wonder what’s up with that?” And then simply sit with the feeling, and allow it to run its course. The panicky ego wants you to do something to fix what it sees as a problem. It is not comfortable simply experiencing what it considers a “bad” feeling, and will urge you to either suppress it or run away from it.

    There are lots of ways to do this (and I’ve tried them all): shopping, having a glass or two of wine, watching TV, surfing the web, and so on. None of these activities is “wrong,” unless you use it to avoid or deny your true feelings. Our emotions, besides simply being a valid part of the human experience, hold important messages for us—messages that we can’t receive when we’re running away.

    So let’s say you are allowing yourself to have the experience of feeling a bit down. It might even last for a season, but you tell yourself: “It’s okay. I know that this will pass too. I can let myself have this feeling and still be perfectly fine.” That’s well-being.

    With well-being, you can continue to enjoy all that is good in your life and treat yourself tenderly while simply letting your experience evolve naturally. And it will evolve. The beauty of allowing yourself to feel your feelings rather than stuffing them is that they then can deliver their messages and pass on through.

    Maybe the message is: You need to slow down a bit. Maybe it’s: The work you’re doing doesn’t feel meaningful anymore. Or maybe you never “figure it out.” Your body or spirit might just need a little healing or integration time. With a sense of well-being, you can trust that life is giving you just what you need, even if it doesn’t make sense or make your ego happy.

    Well-being is very similar to the Buddhist concept of equanimity, which means serenity or imperturbability. Buddhism teaches that you don’t grasp at the “good” or flee from the “bad,” but accept each as it comes.

    The Western mind often mistakes this for passivity, but it is not the same. With both equanimity and well-being, appropriate action is taken—naturally and calmly. As a bonus, action removed from the drama of the ego is often much more effective!

    And there’s another benefit to accepting the so-called “negative” experiences of life: They actually allow you to experience and appreciate the good times far more.

    When we try to go from one peak to another, we keep raising the ante: What was once satisfying is now boring; what was once a huge win doesn’t seem so impressive anymore. There’s a kind of “happiness inflation” going on that devalues what you have and makes you constantly reach for bigger and better.

    It’s counter-intuitive, but the more you experience emotions like sadness or disappointment, the more you can truly feel joy and gratitude when it comes. The poet Kahlil Gibran wrote: “The deeper that sorrow carves into your being, the more joy you can contain.”

    Hard times also temper us, making us stronger, more resilient, and more compassionate. Usually we see this only in retrospect, but we can also use self-talk to remind ourselves of it in the thick of those trying times: “This isn’t much fun, but I know I’m learning and growing from it.”

    Feeling “bad,” far from being something to flee, offers so much to those who are willing to embrace the experience. You’ll have to buck the messages of the ego and of society, but you will gain much more in richness of life when you welcome both phases of the tide, the ebb as well as the flow.