Going Through A Rough Time? This is a mental health column. Since I’m not young, talking about mental health still seems a bit risky as we used to not talk about it. People with mental health issues were in another category and were assumed not to be productive and to be not ‘normal.’ Turns out, most of us (and maybe all of us) have various mental health issues.
Which isn’t surprising when you think about it. How many people have never had a cold, or a headache, or an injured joint? So, if we acknowledge physical health issues are a part of normal life, why wouldn’t we also have mental health issues?
For me, depression was a constant companion until I went through menopause. Now it’s intermittent. I grew up in trauma with a mentally ill violent mother. There may be people that come out of that situation with no adult issues, but I am not one of them. Trauma is an injury that I must continually attend to. Just like my running injured ankle, my migraines, and my bum rotator cuff.
For the past few months, I’ve been going through a rough time with lots of unexpected losses, not to mention the transition from my longtime career as a local government manager to growing seedbop.com – my next work. And then there was the pandemic. Don’t underestimate the trauma of all that world fear, uncertainty, and angst.
The unfelt emotions of my childhood are screaming to be heard. Uncertainty, fear, desperation, powerlessness. Not pleasant. Those emotions have been dominating my body for a while.
I hate that. It’s not pleasant. Day after day.
Last week, I stumbled across an interview Mel Robbins did with Dr. Russell Kennedy, MD, who bills himself as the Anxiety Expert. I agree. His work cuts to the core of dealing with anxiety which I have a boatload of. You should listen to this podcast. Mel Robbins Interviews Dr. Russell Kennedy It’s long, and it’s worth it. You can also read or listen to his book, Anxiety RX. It’s in my Audible library now.
Kennedy’s story is similar to mine, a schizophrenic dad who eventually killed himself. My story is slightly different because my mother probably also had a narcissistic personality disorder. She could not see me as I was, and since I was not outgoing, popular, and a social climber – all things she valued – I was a huge disappointment. I was an introverted thinker who loved color, made art, and started getting awards for my art at five. She wanted me to slather her with adoration and attention. Not my skill set. My mother wanted to be an artist and win awards. This was not a good combination. She did not kill herself, but there were several times she tried to kill me. I won’t go into details, but you get the background for my mental health injuries.
Dr. Kennedy boils it down to handling anxiety this way – positive thinking your way out of it doesn’t work. Cognitive therapy may accomplish short-term gains but doesn’t get to the root of the problem. The root is the emotions (especially in my case) stuck in our bodies, usually from childhood. Since I don’t remember feeling anything until I was in my early twenties, I thought they weren’t there. Wrong, they are, and it’s what we now call anxiety. On overdrive.
As a kid, I was hypervigilant. I only thought about my mother. I thought if I constantly stayed aware of her, I would be able to cut down on the physical and verbal attacks. I don’t think this actually worked, but as a kid, it was the only tool in my toolbox.
Now, the terms to describe me would be a highly sensitive person who is also an empath and an introvert. Being a highly sensitive person in local government management is not a good combination. I suffered. I have a thick skin for things that don’t trigger me, but when I get triggered by attacks and allegations that were completely unwarranted, I suffer. And then there is my personal life. Which involves whether we try and manage it or not – betrayals, rejection, and other losses and pains that overwhelm and cause immense pain.
Dr. Kennedy preaches what John Kavanaugh SJ, told me a long time ago was the way to healing. Directly through the wound, no matter how painful. This means embracing the pain, holding it and being attentive to it. Letting it be. And soothing that “inner child” through it.
Which doesn’t mean negating in and giving the kid a popsicle. It means really seeing the child in pain. Acknowledging that pain as real and true, not negating it. Not thinking your way out of it or assigning causes to it. It’s pain. (Or sadness, or fear, or desperation, etc.) It’s real. That never happened for me. My mother was incapable of seeing me at all. What therapists call heavy-duty abandonment.
This is not easy or certain or a totally clear process. I have been known to eat ice cream, get really busy or watch mindless TV to avoid dealing with it. Or to believe I’m too self-absorbed and sensitive and should just be different and ‘not so selfish.’
So, it piles up and comes back stronger until I dive in.
Although food is my less than healthy soother, I also suspect that the high level of alcohol and cigarette consumption in my own family is a way not to have to deal with pain. Depression runs rampant. And denial.
So now, as an adult, it’s my task to see myself as I am. To feel my pain, anger, fear, and deep sadness. And I might add – joy, wonder, and awe. I also have to make sure I don’t run over the ‘good’ feelings when they come up. I have to consciously turn off the emotion bulldozer inside me that quickly tries to stop any feeling.
You are not bad. We cope the best way we can as a child. Now we are adults; our task is to develop self-awareness and care for who we are. Including our emotions and wounds.
If you are a helper personality, my guess is that right now; your typing fingers are itching to send me suggestions. For traditionalists: have you tried therapy? Medication? Happy thoughts? For alternatives: Yoga? Cold Plunges? Herbs? Ginger and lemon first thing in the morning with warm water? Yes, all of the above and more a lot.
At some point, we just have to accept ourselves the way we are and continue to attend to our injuries – physical and mental. Working with our injuries and staying with our body and its messages frees up creativity. Whenever I do the work of being with anxiety and feel like I’m never going to get through this incredibly unpleasant work, I am likely to wake up the next day invigorated with creative juices flowing.
Self-care is not always going to the spa. Sometimes it’s wading through the mucky swamp of pain. It’s ironic that a flourishing, authentic, creative life also means the unpleasant work of attending to and embracing pain.
I’d love to hear more about your experience with trauma and pain and how you care for yourself. DM me, and let’s talk. It helps me to hear from you about your own struggles. We can walk through this messy life together.
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