depression

  • Did someone just ask me that?

    Did someone just ask me that?

    Handling awkward questions during the holidays.

    (Part of The Holiday Stress Series)

    I suppose technically, this is not a holiday-specific problem. But during this time of year, especially if you’ve gone through a loss – in addition to some possibly heavy doses of depression or anxiety – the most hardy among us would find it awkward, if not painful, to figure out how to respond to well-meaning people inquiring about our loss or other distressing circumstances. I’m here to help.

    We certainly don’t want to shut people down for expressing concern and care; their question or comment could just be ill-timed – or you’re just not ready to talk more about it – with them or anyone. Particularly in a social, more public setting like a holiday party.

    Quick side note: if you read Quitting is for Winners, you know how much I believe in quitting what doesn’t serve us. If you’d like to read it now, we’ll wait for you : )

    In Loss doesn’t take a holiday, I suggested we quit some things this holiday season: hiding our grief and sorrow, answering the “how are you” question with “I’m fine” (when we’re not fine at all), letting the holidays determine whether it’s ok to feel what we feel, and seeing others’ enjoyment of the season as an example of what we should be doing or feeling – as though joy at this time of year were mandatory. It’s not.

    So let’s figure out some specific, concrete phrases, answers, and questions of your own that you can put into action at any family or holiday gathering – so that you feel less vulnerable in this time of year – which can evoke vulnerability like few other seasons.

    You might like to write down your top ten (or any number) of questions and comments you are dreading, that could be asked or said to you at a holiday event.

    Your losses, perhaps some loneliness, are part of who you are today, and you don’t need to explain yourself to anyone. We are going to find things you can say and do that will help you stay true to yourself AND maintain a boundary that feels emotionally safe.

    I don’t encourage any of us to say “I’m fine” when we’re not. We look fine, we’re functioning very well – but we may be sad and vulnerable, and the effort to hide that from others is huge. Now, I’m not suggesting that I’m going to start sobbing over the crab dip, but I am going to remain true to my feelings and not hide or pretend.

    Keep your top ten dreaded questions and remarks in mind as you explore this list of responses you could have. See if any (or a combination) of them might fit the bill. The dual goal is to be true to you and maintain whatever boundary keeps you feeling safe.

    ♥ Thank you for asking. It’s been a rough year, but I am doing better. How are you?

    ♥ It would be great to talk about it some other time because the support would be so helpful. Are you free for a coffee next week?

    ♥ I appreciate your concern, that means a lot. Let’s talk another time. Thank you for understanding.

    ♥ If person persists in asking: As I said, I’m not able to talk about this now. Will you excuse me? I’d just like to get a glass of water.

    ♥ Yes, it was a big loss for me, and I am doing a little better. How are things with your son in college?

    ♥ Oh, when will I date again? At some point I might, but I’m ok with taking all the time I need.

    ♥ I’m sure you understand how difficult that subject is for me. I appreciate your caring, but it’s been a nice break to talk about other things this evening.

    ♥ This has been a painful few months, and it’s still too hard to discuss. I appreciate you keeping a good thought for me.

    ♥ You’re so kind to ask how I am. I need lots of time to heal. Thanks for asking.

    ♥ I am very sad, and working through it. As you can imagine, this time of year can be hard. But I’m glad I came and thank you for inviting me.

    ♥ It’s so nice that you ask because many people avoid talking about losing my job. It’s tough but I will be fine. How are you doing at work?

    ♥ Lighthearted tease, with a smile: Well, that’s quite a question! Not everyone would go there, Susan! Excuse me for a second, ok?

    ♥ It’s been rather a lonely year for me at times. I believe that’s true for many people. Do you ever feel that way?

    The key with any of these (and plenty of others you will think of), is to acknowledge the person without inviting further comment or discussion.

    Acknowledge without inviting.

    And by all means, leave the event when you need to. If that means you’re there twenty minutes or an hour, so be it. It was brave to go and it’s brave to leave when that’s best for you.

    When we give ourselves permission to own our feelings, and respond to others with kindness and clarity about what we need, we are thriving bravely indeed.

    Click here to read the other articles in The Holiday Stress Series

    I am now going to close with a Holiday/Christmas/New Year’s message from my heart to yours.

    We are all a bit of a mess. We are all strong. We can be both at the same time and still be our loving, loveable, cranky, sad, hopeful, generous selves. Just be you.

    People who really see us and understand us, get there partly by our leading the way in making it okay to be messy, strong – and human.

    With love for all the seasons to come.

  • Taming Shame

    Taming Shame

    Shame is an extraordinarily loaded feeling and reaction. I’ll bet it’s at the top of most peoples’ lists of feelings they loathe. It’s a close cousin to guilt, which I will explain.

    We are not born feeling shame; it is an internal response to humiliation, judgment, and rejection by people we care about and love. Shame is a searing moment when terrible things are said or done to us, and standing there, red-faced, we wish more than anything that we could be swallowed up by the ground under our feet.  Shame is when we feel wholly inadequate as a person, exposed, broken, even – and worthy of the rejection itself.

    Shame is someone else dumping their pain on us.

    Guilt, on the other hand, is a feeling we get when we have crossed a moral boundary of our own (or society’s). For example, if you took money off your parent’s dresser when you were young, you probably felt guilty. Anticipating guilt, from doing something we are thinking about, but know is wrong, can help us put the brakes on and thus steer clear of engaging in that behavior. For sure, guilt can occur when someone tells us we’ve hurt their feelings. So we apologize, own our transgression and move on.

    However, if we have not addressed the core feelings that live inside us, from being shamed growing up, the shame can easily attach itself to instances where we feel guilt, making that normally transient emotion larger-than-life, all-consuming and leaving us feeling worthless and about one inch tall. If that. So, shame and guilt can be toxic companions.

    Can the beast of shame be tamed? Yes! I can’t promise total eradication, because we can’t erase our early experiences of shame – but we can explore them, try our best to understand them, and work to recognize that feeling shame is not our fault and was not caused by us. Try to imagine an infant experiencing shame. Exactly.

    So, to summarize: incidents of humiliation (or coercion and abuse) by a parent or other person whom we love, care for and depend on, create shameful feelings that lead to (a usually unconscious) belief that indeed, we are insufficient and deserving of devaluation. We often perpetuate the shame by judging ourselves harshly. This pattern can manifest in choosing relationships that mimic the behavior of the original shamer, not trusting our own feelings (further invalidation), and living with excruciating self-doubt and self-sabotage.

    We’ve seen how shame and guilt can be cozy partners. Add depression and anxiety to that duo and we can end up in a full-blown crisis. I know, it sounds like taming shame is harder than you thought and it would be understandable if you are now wondering if the toxic mess shame generates can be stopped (or at least wrangled into submission). Yes, it can. And I am going to show you how.

    I’ve purposely detailed my thoughts on shame to underscore how imperative it is that we get a handle on it. Tackling the problems of depression and anxiety are going to, at some point, unearth hidden (or maybe not so hidden) pockets of shame. That’s ok. More than ok. It’s a good thing. Because sunshine is the best disinfectant.

    Ready to move on to some ways to bring shame out of the darkness, and give it the heave-ho? Let’s go.

    EMPATHY

    Empathy is the mother of all shame antidotes. Shame doesn’t stand a chance against it.  Empathy towards ourselves and others is the pathway to belonging and connection, which in turn become the way we heal. (Read anything by Brené Brown, PhD, MSW to go deeper into your understanding of shame).

    • Show yourself some love. Spend some time, every day, feeling into a few things you love about yourself. There is just one you in the world, here to share your gifts and be the truest you possible. Here, I’ll go first. I love myself for my generosity with time, love and money. I love that I am resourceful and good at solving problems. I love my auburn, curly hair (finally! I was teased endlessly for it in middle school and back then wished I had pin-straight blonde). I love myself for my kind heart. Now you try. It’s not bragging. It’s owning who you are. It’s ok to not like some things about ourselves – as long as shame isn’t the driver and you work to frame it as perfectly acceptable to be imperfect. (I am working on this too.) The artist Salvador Dali wrote: “Have no fear of perfection – you’ll never reach it.” We’d do well to absorb this message of acceptance.

    • Consider asking your partner or a close friend to tell you three things they love and admire about you. (Notice if your inner voice says “Really? They’re just being nice”; that’s a big molecule of shame trying to bust the party.)

    • Find some mantras that work for you, write them down and say them, feel them, believe them. I know, this sounds a little woo woo, but stay with me here. It helps in challenging that old shame voice, coaxing it to into submission. A few of my go-to mantras are “When I stay connected to the core me, I am unstoppable” and “I love myself and therefore have more love to give”. Google self-love mantras and see what resonates.

    • Who in your life has offered you empathy? What was it about their presence, words and behavior that felt empathic to you? (One of the most enduring memories I have of being shown empathy was my amazing 4th Grade teacher Mrs. Stokes. I was riddled with anxiety and she saw it, gently embraced it, and soothed it with kind words, praise and patience.)

    • How do you manifest empathy towards others? Who are these lucky people? What things trigger your empathic response? (By the way, the activation of our empathy towards others can offer interesting information about our own shame; we sometimes recognize in others what we needed but did not get).

    TELL YOUR STORY. EXPLORE YOUR NARRATIVE OF SHAME. Shame feeds on secrecy and all variations of self-doubt such as “what will she think of me if I reveal how I feel?” Stuck in our heads and hearts, shame calls the shots – but, when we call it out by speaking about it, shame loses its grip. You can start by asking yourself some questions, such as:

    • Who shamed me when I was young? What did they say or do (to me)?

    • How do I remember reacting at that time?

    • Who else in my family carries shame? How do I know this? Perhaps they are people-pleasing, overly solicitous, angry, unkind, narcissistic, lonely, depressed, entitled, very uncomfortable with feelings (tend to leave the room if a feeling is even mentioned), quick to judge others about appearance, their tastes – or anything at all?

    • What do I know about family members’ histories? (Shame is often transferred through generations.)

    These can be painful questions, leading to painful answers. No need to go it alone. I highly recommend engaging in therapy while exploring them, which will provide you with a safe relationship and additional perspective, especially if your shame is connected to trauma. (Perhaps the course A Thriving Life might be right for you; in it we do a deep dive into shame.) Click here to learn more

    We need to accept ourselves as we are,
    before we can become who we want to be.

    You’ve got this.

  • Happiness, reimagined

    An excerpt from A Thriving Life

    Happiness, reimagined.

    therapist blog

    It appears that many of us are interested in being happy. I just learned an amazing fact: depending on how you search, there are no fewer than 23,000 and probably more than 50,000 books on happiness. Really.

    Two things about this struck me. One, apparently there is no one definition of happiness or one way to find it. Two, a lot of us are writing and buying books about it. We want answers : )

    Our culture is obsessed with happiness – and it can feel oppressive. Sure, feeling dissatisfied, sad, worried, doubtful, scared, and irritable are not on the list of favorite feelings, but we are not denying ourselves happiness by having them.

    And it is not our problem if other people freak out when we feel those ways. I have met a number of people who get so uncomfortable if you answer their question “How are you?” honestly. You can feel their discomfort; they seem to squirm internally if you say anything other than “Great, thanks.”

    I’m calling bullshit on forced happiness and pressure to be joyful all the time. Please. It’s not real. (And how would we even recognize the state of joy if we have never felt despair?)

    My qualification to offer you some thoughts on a way to reimagine happiness is that I’ve been walking around on this planet for a few decades, and having experienced both depression and anxiety, I have a very, very high interest in figuring out this mysterious, you-know-it-when-you-feel-it, thing called being happy. I suspect you may feel the same.

    Unhappiness and depression are not equivalent.

    Before moving on, let’s get one thing out of the way: unhappiness and depression are not interchangeable terms. We can feel unhappy, but not be depressed, and we can feel happy even if we are depressed. But when we are depressed or suffering through anxiety, happiness can be challenging to recognize. Like trying to find something you dropped, in the dark, without a flashlight.

    I’d love to hand you that flashlight. Read on to explore more about happiness and some ways to tap into your own particular sense of it, by creating the conditions for recognizing and enjoying happiness when it occurs.

    I’ll begin by sharing a short story.

    A few years ago, I was on vacation at our favorite beach. It was lovely. And I was crying.

    I had become aware of some depression symptoms returning, slowly, insidiously. I remember feeling a profound sense of time rushing by, and the rhythmic, relentless sound of the waves reaching the shore reflected that feeling.  I felt untethered and somewhat hopeless. In the painful moments that followed, I focused on my breath.

    Some uncomfortable feelings and thoughts bubbled up: “I hate this. I can’t stand feeling this way; it makes no sense – I have so much in my life that I love and am grateful for; I’m worried I will ruin our vacation; I’m angry, this is so unfair.”

    Clearly, my mind ran with very unhelpful (though understandable) thoughts. Despite all my experience managing and recovering from depression, this time it crept up on me and my mood was in a nosedive before I had a chance to pull back on the throttle.

    I did two things immediately once I realized I was in trouble: I told my husband how I was feeling and forced myself to walk the length of the beach. Then, I went back to my breathing, quieted my mind, and trusted that while I couldn’t control the depression itself, I did have agency to react to it differently – not to get anxious, angry or project (what may never happen) into the future.

    I’m sure you noticed that I got caught, momentarily, in the vortex of “hating” depression – of course we don’t like it and I wish for all of us it didn’t happen, but “hating” it gives it fuel and momentum – not to mention that it connects us to anger and that definitely won’t make us feel better. Don’t worry, I’m not going to recommend we find a way to be grateful for depression (there’s probably a book about that…no thanks), but it has helped me when I fight with it less, and roll with it more, so that I remain empowered even if I’m struggling.

    Back to the story.

    Although it seems wildly contradictory – because who wants to “stay in the present” when the present is depression? – I did just that. I accepted what was happening (doesn’t mean I liked it) and did my best to just…be. I focused on the warmth of the sand on my feet and the faint smell of sunscreen. I listened to the surf.

    When I relaxed a little, my attention was drawn to a little boy of about four, who was laughing so hard he was bent over double, eyes closed, completely overtaken by amusement. My eyes pricked with tears at witnessing such a beautiful, present moment of joy. I felt a tenderness that almost ached, and I became aware of my heart opening wide at his sweetness and laughter. I reached for my husband’s hand and stayed in the tenderness. Some minutes later I saw the little boy leaning against his mother’s legs while she sat in her beach chair, and she offered him a sandwich. I was in contentment.

    This would be a fairy tale if I told you that feeling lasted and lasted. But the existence of that moment was a very real piece of happiness for me – and those moments of happiness have recurred again and again. And moments count. I’m going to repeat that because it’s really, really important: Moments count.

    Happiness often hides in plain sight.

    I’ve thought a lot about happiness since then. As I’ve become more attuned to these experiences, I realize I didn’t really register them before as aspects of my own happiness, contentment and love. But there they’ve been, hiding in plain sight.

    Sometimes when I’m in that emotional space I’ve described, I feel a curious, intense longing; a mixture of an acute, piercing recognition of my deepest self and the oneness of the world – which feels exquisite: poignant and infused with extraordinary joy. The feeling is so visceral that words can’t quite capture it (sort of like trying to explain what love is).

    Music often activates the experience; Leonard Cohen’s “Hallelujah”, any rendition of “Silent Night” and Pearl Jam’s “Just Breathe” are guaranteed to transport me to this mysterious, beautiful, slightly sorrowful place. Art, deeply moving films and books can open me to these feelings too. (Note: I go in very different direction musically when I want a dopamine hit and high energy. Think UB40, The Rolling Stones, Brandi Carlisle).

    However, I have also been learning that there is plenty of joy to be found in the simplest of things. An absorbing book and doing laundry (yes, really) are good examples. When we get quiet, as I did on the beach, happiness can show up unexpectedly.

    It is perfectly okay – even expected – that you may not agree with some of my thoughts. I am sharing these experiences with you to underscore both how personal the state of happiness is, and to offer you encouragement to tap into the sources of your own.

    One more layer that I find fascinating: what makes me feel happy has changed with time. For example, in my early thirties I had a huge job in advertising and traveled the world constantly. I loved it. I loved the smell of jet fuel and the adventure it promised. I loved the bewildering strangeness and beauty of Southeast Asia and being so far from home: absorbing a sense of being on another planet while discovering the common humanity everywhere.

    But…there came a time when I no longer wanted to live that way or have that career. Other things now make me happy, and still others will that I have yet to discover. Do I feel twinges of nostalgia for my former life? Of course. But growth leads to change and change leads to growth.

    Growth leads to change and change leads to growth.

    If we can love and miss what came before, we can also anticipate that we will look back someday on this week, this year, and miss parts of them, too.

    Translation: there are relationships and things happening in our lives today, that feature aspects of happiness, contentment and peace. We don’t want to overlook them, especially when we are anxious or depressed. They are there, waiting to be seen and enjoyed.

    Happiness (for you, for me, for all of us) fluctuates and evolves, and I believe (on my best days, I know) that if it is not here at this very minute, it will be back soon.

    CREATING THE CONDITIONS TO ALLOW HAPPINESS.

    It can be helpful to think of this as intentionally letting happiness, whatever that may be for you, reveal itself.

    We can embrace the possibility that a moment of contentment, no matter its brevity, can be mighty powerful.

    And that moment can be sustaining. My hour of contentment on the beach that day lifted my spirits for far longer than the moment itself.

    Here are some ways to coax happiness to the surface. If you like, jot down some things you might like to try yourself.

    • What do you really, really care about? List a few things that matter deeply to you. Could be a relationship, a cause, your work, a creative project, writing, a pet, a friendship…anything at all that feels indispensable in your life. It could be a big thing such as your relationship with your partner, or a smaller thing such as feeling your home is a cozy, restful place that you enjoy decorating. If it matters to you, it matters. Now, think about how often you pay deep attention to that thing or person. Given how much it/they matter to you, can you take time every day to be in it, notice it, and enjoy how wonderful it feels to care so much about it/them? That is an invitation for happiness to show up.

    • Do something that nourishes you. (One time I started baking something when I was depressed. It took about an hour to get going and just do it already (because I was depressed)…and then, because working with my hands relaxes me, I was caught by surprise. I began to feel…peaceful. I enjoyed myself. That was happiness, all right.

    • Take a day off. This will sound like I’m contradicting myself, but sometimes we just need to let go, stop thinking of our “to do” list, and give ourselves a break. (On one of my days off I bundled up on the sofa after breakfast and read a mystery novel cover to cover. For eight hours. It was bliss. And it felt great to give myself what I needed.) This can work best if you plan the day off ahead of time, so you don’t have to make a bunch of calls to clear your calendar: sidestep the trap of feeling badly about rescheduling things.

    • Be as kind to yourself as you are to others. Rest is just as “productive” as making dinner for your family (or anything else). Depression and anxiety can be so, so draining. We need to balance pushing through while honoring our need to step away for a bit. To breathe. To pause. Life is not an endurance test!

    • What do you find beautiful? The perfect lilac in your garden? A song? A thunderstorm? A beautifully arranged tower of books? A film you watch often? Think of everyday things that you may walk past, or take for granted, without really seeing them. Look for them now. Make noticing beauty, as you define it, a part of your day. There are pieces of happiness all around us. (Although it has become ordinary because of its frequency, every single time I return home my dog is over-the-moon delighted to see me. All I have to do is notice how wonderful it makes me feel and I’m back in happiness again.)

    • Try to let go of the fantasy/expectation that feeling happy should be a permanent state. You’ll end up fighting so hard to “be happy” that you won’t feel it when it’s there. It may help all of us to think of happiness as a very welcome visitor who may not take up residence, but whose arrival is eagerly expected and anticipated.

    One last thought. The vulnerability that depression and anxiety have opened in me, sometimes makes me feel tender and overly sensitive. I’ve come to appreciate that my vulnerabilities, although partly born from heartache, have also, over time, made me more available to joy and love. I wish the same for you.

    Now that will make me happy : )

    Sarah Jones, LCSW - psychotherapist
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