Wednesday, March 20, 2013

Feeling Shame

This new book I'm studying --  I Thought It Was Just Me (But It Isn't): Making the Journey to I Am Enough, by Brene Brown, is amazing.  Truly.  I read and re-read and ponder and discuss and am starting to feel like a different person.  One of my favorite quotes:

"We believe that the most terrifying and destructive feeling that a person can experience is psychological isolation. This is not the same as being alone. It is a feeling that one is locked out of the possibility of human connection and of being powerless to change the situation. In the extreme, psychological isolation can lead to a sense of hopelessness and desperation. People will do almost anything to escape this combination of condemned isolation and powerlessness." 

That is how I have felt about my entire life.  That there was this secret "thing" I didn't understand that locked me out of connection. I didn't have friends growing up, I didn't get along with girls or boys.  The whole friend thing was really difficult for me.  I remember feeling condemned, powerless, hopeless and desperate.  Desperate for any type of connection - even addictive connection. 

Brown's message is to normalize shame -- it's real, we all feel it, and will continue to experience it in our lives -- and then to build shame resilience so that we don't live in, operate by, or feel trapped by shame.  The following are questions the book provides to help you build your shame resilience. 

I physically feel shame in/on my:  chest and stomach.

It feels like:  my chest cavity is caving in, like I'm collapsing in on myself.  I start to feel sick to my stomach, even though it's not physically churning or sick.  After a few minutes, I start to panic. My mind races and a big dose of adrenalin kicks in with a fight or flight response brewing.  I almost always come out fighting.

I know I'm in shame when I feel: small, hopeless, desperate and angry.  Anger is a big one for me.

If I could taste shame, it would taste like:  revenge. When I'm in shame I want to lash out and hurt the people who "hurt" me. It's never a physical hurt. I want them to emotionally hurt as bad as I do.  Shame leaves me with an entitlement feeling. I'm entitled to do what I want because these people shamed me.

If I could smell shame, it would smell like: fresh baked cookies. I eat instead of listening to my feelings.  I know when I'm baking cookies - there is usually something I really don't want to deal with or feel shameful about. 

If I could touch shame, it would feel like: really gritty sandpaper. Sand paper is supposed to smooth things out, make it better, like my mom thought shaming me would make it better.  But the really gritty kind - like 60 grit - does nothing but eat up the wood to shape it. You swipe your finger over the sandpaper and come out bleeding and don't understand why.

How can knowing my physical triggers help in shame resilience?  Many times, I feel the effects of shame physically before I even know what is happening emotionally.  This is the case almost every time for me. Many times I'll have these uncomfortable, sick, or angry feelings for a few days before I can clearly connect to what happened, why I'm feeling this way and what to do about it.  Many times I'll end up in my therapist's office rambling about how I feel for 15-20 minutes and how I can't seem to figure out why I have these feelings and in one sentence he connects what happened to how I'm feeling.  Once I have that connection and can name why I feel that way, I'm able to let it go and move on.  I can physically feel myself relax and once I can name the shame, know exactly what to do to about it.

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