Shame dies when stories are told in safe places. The Mindful Geek

What Shame Does

Nothing good is born out of shame.  Ever.  And it does not resolve itself over time. If we don’t intentionally work to heal it, shame makes us unwell, and also makes those around us sick–particularly our children.

According to Brené Brown, shame is an “intensely painful feeling or experience of believing that we are flawed and therefore unworthy of love and belonging.(…) I think the fear of disconnection can make us dangerous.”

Shame begs us to lie and pretend- to be, feel, and want as we do not.

It may drive us to be competitive in unhealthy ways and also to be cruel–to establish our goodness and worthiness only by comparison or “betterness” than others. It prohibits the possibility of humility/courage and thus honest ownership & reparations of our mistakes and harmful choices. Shame keeps us hustling for approval and validation – willing to say and do literally anything for the appearance of goodness, strength, impeccability, positivity, and authority.

Our shame can make us feel both bitter and entitled, while at the same time believing we are total shit.   Hot shit and piece of shit–all at once. Crazy that those two beliefs can exist along side each other in our psyches….entitlement and unworthiness. Either way, we feel disconnected–better than or less than—but no sustainable connection.

Shame can look like arrogance.

It will make us feel terrified – ALL OF TIME – that: 

  1. People know what we are actually like OR
  2. They will find out

Shame may make us abuse drugs, food, alcohol, shopping, sex—but mostly it will make us abusive…. and cowardly.

Shame tells us that we are not enough and that there is scarcity of all things good–and so we may tend to snatch and grab and withhold.

Shame causes depression, which for some causes even more shame and then maybe self-harm or suicide. OY— To feel ashamed– for feeling sad/alone/depressed–too ashamed to share or to seek help. Hopelessness. I am grateful to have learned about shame and to be recovering, in time to parent my sons in a more gentle and sane way.

I believe….that behind every bad deed and mean word, there is a whole fuck-ton of shame.  Shame is a lie, though, thriving only in darkness and secrecy.

While shame is toxic, it is not a life sentence. There is alllllways hope and help. Any 12 Step Program can help us heal our shame issues. When we are Honest, Open, Willing, we can break the cycles and the generational curse of shame.

Also, I do know some precious tender and kind people who suffer from shame. They are always believing that they cause all of the bad things. People with shame tend to be either the bully or the bullied.

almost anything is possible when you have a place to bloom

ACA Daily Reading January 12- Fear

From Strengthening My Recovery p13- January 12 Trait One

“We became isolated and afraid of people and authority figures.” Big Red Book p.10

So many of us shut down and hide because of our fear of people and authority figures.  Most of this fear stems from the way we were treated when we were young.  Understandably, what we learned as children carries over into most everything we do today: fear of our partner or boss, fear of success or failure, fear of conflict-  the list can seem endless.


Our childhood authority figures, our parents, were often physically, verbally, emotionally abusive.  One thing many of us thought we learned for sure:  if anything went wrong, it was our fault.(…..)

On this day I acknowledge the fears I’ve carried for most of my life, and I remind myself that I a now safe.  I take deep breaths and feel gratitude for the people in my life who are kind and loving.

What a miracle to realize my absence of fear, from my daily life. My pain comes from remembering what happened, not worrying about what could happen. PTSD. I know there is work to do here and I also am taking note of how far I have come.

ACA Generational Grief- Strengthening My Recovery

ACA Daily Reading January 11- False Self

This is my 11th day since receiving my daily reader.  Below is the daily reading for January 11, titled False Self:

Many of us couldn’t be ourselves as children.  In order to survive, we bought our parents’ negative messages, and then as adults, we repeated the dishonest justifications for crazy behavior.  We remember our destructive false pride that wouldn’t allow us to admit mistakes or to feel vulnerable.  On some level, we always knew what we were doing, but our false self was in charge and we didn’t have the words or thought processes to do things differently or to express true feelings.

What hurts the most is that for those of us who have children, we have modeled this dishonest behavior for them.  As much as we tried to stop ourselves, we just couldn’t see our way through, to show them a better side.

In recovery, we now see that our wounds were so deep that it’s hard to imagine that we had a hole that big on our soul. Today, we can see that our lack of honesty for so long is constant proof of the trauma we suffered as children, and the reason we need ACA to break the cycle.  This is where we strip away all the layers of shame that created our false self.  WE now more readily admit our shortcomings because as adults we can handle any fallout.  In doing so, we keep the family craziness from growing.

On this day I release my false self and have the courage to admit when I am wrong.  I do this so that the hurt stops piling up, for both others and myself.

excessive and ineffective overgeneralization of a happy, optimistic state across all situations. The process of toxic positivity results in the denial, minimization, and invalidation of the authentic human emotional experience.

I Don’t Get It

I was thinking how little I have in common with my family of origin. And then I realized HEY: for most of my life, we did actually have ONE thing in common. None of us had been taught or allowed to navigate or articulate our full human emotional experiences. 

Fortunately, the SKILLS, for honestly and safely connecting, can be intentionally cultivated and practiced as adults, if they are not modeled and learned in childhood. I learn them by studying and practicing the Twelve Steps and Traditions of my program. Unlearning has also been essential to my recovery.

In my family of origin empathy and compassion seem strictly reserved for animals and far away third world peoples. The many and marvelous philanthropic gestures, dedicated specifically to those struggling in far away lands or with four legs, cannot be denied. There is this disconcerting thing though, when people act friendly, social, and charitable and— at the same time are both cruel and harsh. The incongruity is formidable.

As the lone highly sensitive and deep feeler of feeeeeeelings, I was humiliated by my inability to hide or to manage better. I was incapable of feeling good (peace, joy, trust) while simultaneously distraught– and frequently called out for ruining everything, in this way. Why couldn’t I just suck it up, lighten up, move on, be positive? My failure to cope/comply was labeled as an ungrateful and negative attitude. I still fail to enjoy or relax in close proximity to any person(my whole family and later a husband) who judges and punishes me for feeling as I do. So odd how in this system, diminishing words and deeds go unpunished and unjudged but hard feelings honestly communicated, are regarded as treasonous efforts to upset others. What TF even is that?  I really honest to god do not get it.  My sister would always say this to me :  You just don’t get it.  No, I really do not, Jilan. My ex will totally validate my not gettingness of THIS.

I gag to recall in marriage, my husbandy person would want intimacy sex, after days of actively not speaking to or looking at me and I was like: “EW, wtf, Sorry But I am wired in a way that I can literally not- feel abandoned, afraid, ashamed— AND horny all at once. How about you try kindness for foreplay? That shit is fire.” Eerily similar to my sister doing or saying the divisive and demeaning things and then arranging dinner together and retaliating at my prioritized interest in first resolving the thing. 

I think I may finally almost get it, but I do not want or choose IT, for myself, my children, my non-essential relationships.

Until you change your thinking, you will always recycle your experiences.

Before Recovery

Without recovery, I would still possess only the tools and beliefs of dysfunction; a fixed mindset with a Zero-sum mentality– all conflicts resulting in a winner and a loser. Winning and losing are suitable for games and wars, but not for safe and trusting relationships. I have no desire for relationships where one of us must lose in order for the other to win. I prefer the shared work of identifying a mutually desired and agreeable resolution—A Third Way.

I exhausted myself yesterday, saying NO, to a person who consistently proves unsafe for me—who adamantly rejects a third way- entrenched in the belief that if he wants it, he is entitled to it and if it hurts me, I deserve it. My calm and direct NO, free from fear, justification, volume, and profanity is one of the miracles of my recovery. It changed the game! Game over, actually. Previously, I would become relentlessly hysterical trying to make my NO be heard, worthy, understood–just admissable.

Today, I say NO— I openly communicate my boundaries. If a person attempts to force or override my boundary, the relationship is over—unless it is an essential one—like someone with whom I must co-parent. While I cannot fully detach from that one, I no longer choose to fight or to submit. This leaves a gaping hole of silence which used to be filled with the fighting. As I am mentally and spiritually maturing and healing, I recognize how healthy & wholesome people hear and say “No” regularly, without fighting, fear, shame, guilt, reprisal. AND fuck the smiling coward clowns who offer cool maybes or fake yesses (in the name of positivity) and then just never do the thing they agreed to. Passive aggressive dishonest bullshit. Ew. Very triggering. Developing and honoring clear boundaries has not been a particularly popular or painless way to live, within a system where some are required to shrink so that others may swell with a sense of elevation and authority.

I love love love when Sweet Greg disagrees or tells me NO, I typically rebuttal respond by saying “I don’t understand how….”. His standard and brilliant reply: “You don’t have to”. Muah! What a stud! No heat, no fight, just boundaries like a badass. Recovery and Sweet Greg remind me that I don’t have to understand or agree with person’s boundary to respect it. That is some magical wisdom. I seriously did not know, as I had not witnessed anything like this before recovery.

I worry that, through examples and genetics, my sons could become inflexible, greedy, social climbing, addict lying fuckers who will do or say anything in order that they have their way. I also worry that they will become passive aggressive menaces to those who displease them. Entitlement is some scary shit.

At least there is a widely available, wonderful, life-giving solution to the matter of addiction. I would not feel sad to have a friend or family member also benefitting from the love and wisdom of any 12 Step Program.

Your Growth scares people who don't want to change.

September 7

The deep seated angst of hoping and begging for peace and resolution- was relieved on the day which I received notice, by a lady whom I barely know, of my mother’s departure from his world. Today is her birthday.

I located details for her service, from the online obituary link, emailed to me by my gloating ex husband– AND I showed up- because my recovery teaches me to do a right thing, no matter how I feel. My mother’s family collectively used this occasion to put me firmly and publicly in my place— outside. I demonstrated for my sons HOW I willingly choose to do a hard and very unpleasant thing– when it would be much easier not to. I have zero regrets about my words and conduct around this situation. Though– the whole thing is regrettable. I am proud of how my sons saw me behave, and sad for the divisions that this service illuminated for them. Their family of origin not acknowledging or including them or their mother— their father present and having nothing to do with them/us.

Seeing my ex husband listed as one of my mother’s survivors is a vile reminder of my sister’s manner. I am sure my ex feels thrilled by the sentiment behind that gesture. How is that even appropriate?

I am ever grateful for the financial support of my mother. She poured tens of thousands of dollars into rescuing MY house from my ex husband, in our unnecessarily litigious and costly divorce. There was literally nothing to fight for. I alone, entered that marriage with money and assets—the house was mine and he just needed to get TF out and pay child support based on state calculations. I asked for nothing– and like my sister, he wanted war and victory, not peaceful resolution—Zero sum game for him—I needed to lose in order for him to feel as if he won. They are two peas, for sure. Kindred spirits. 100%. Thanks to both of them, my children have lost the most.

Fortunately, in recovery, I learned that acts of gratitude involve paying IT forward not being indebted and having to pay a person back, by agreeing to things which are unwholesome and hurtful. I think it is has been expressed that if I were truly grateful, I would have accepted the unacceptable-just taken my licks(for being who I am). I do not agree. If I borrow something I will of course, return it without prompting. But when you offer something, you do not get to extract whatever you like in return. That is dirty, sick, secret emotional contract bullshit. I will not abide.

We relocated cross country and I served my mother well as she neared the end of her life. The most wholesome badass thing I had ever done. I was glad to be able to spend several days a week keeping her company and attending to her appointments. It was neither easy nor enjoyable, as her illness and treatments did not erase or fix our very troubled family dynamic. I was yielding, only to good orderly direction, which is its own kind of reward. Intentionally choosing to do the hard things is how we develop courage. I love my courage the most amount. One day at a time, I am breaking sick cycles and generational curses.

Introverting

To be introverted means that I prefer solitude and derive energy from quiet time, alone.  I don’t completely hate socializing, but it is often too much for me and reuires days of space to recover.  I would not ever favor a social or group activity over something with another person or two, or by myself.  I am depleted by interactions, even with my most favorite people.  I neither love nor hate this about myself. I accept it, mostly without judgment, which allows me to honor my boundaries around self-care and sanity.

Extroverts are energized by group activity, social engagement, and talking– while I am left drained. I require time and space to shake out the messages, thoughts, needs, vibes, and sensory impacts of proximity and involvement. I do not experience loneliness or FOMO. I can miss a person and still not be lonely. The most lonesome times in my life were all family occasions from my earliest days, holidays, birthdays… and most days in my unfortunate marriage. Also, I endured an unwanted, if not humiliating sense of aloneness before the age of 40, as I had not yet experienced nor learned emotionally honest, healthy, safe and sustainable connection.

I often worry for my Sweet Greg, as he enjoys talking and also is shy with most others and rightfully expecting to socialize with me. I have guilt about my overt disinterest in non-essential and non-(mutually)interesting matters.  He shows no signs of duress or resentment, but I still wish I had more willingness or resilience for everyday chit chat(this term seems harsh-but I don’t know what else to call it. I judge only myself, here) or even pleasantries.

Talking and listening tire me more than they make me feel connected or close.  Though, having come from an environment in which shunning and silent treatment were common, I was confused about the value and meaning of silence and SO, for much of my life, I could and would not shut TF up. Weird fast anxious non-stop talking.  Because— When THE talking (to or with me) halted, it typically indicated unspeakable trouble.  Only in recovery have I discovered the magic of wholesome and peaceful silence and solitude.

What I now understand, only as a result of adulthood and recovery, is that I am intensely introverted – mentally and physically compromised by overexposure to (most all) others.  And that I am worthy and capable of peace and authentic connection. Some might argue that I am not introverted, since I am not shy and can be quite social.  

Learning about myself, my children, others, and relationships– is never-ending. We are each unique in how we experience people and the world, not just emotionally, but how our actual nervous systems receive and process information. What a trip.

My first steps were on eggshells photo text meme

uniformity v. solidarity

“You are either in agreement with (like) us or against us.”  That mentality is the ancestral curse and cycle which I strive to crush, one day at a time. My pre-recovery, short lived, and highly intense relations were established on perceived synchronicity or uniformity: a shared urge, or common enemy.  I had learned to recognize these as appropriate foundations/ proof of belonging & connection. It was unsustainable, though.  Those fierce and fast entanglements, shallowly rooted in glimpses of sameness, consistently fizzled without explanation or died swift and confusing (for me) deaths. We are the same and belong together OR we are different, and one of us is wrong and bad.

You must know, like, believe, feel and choose a particular way. This is how we earn and keep our place, sense of belonging on the inside instead of the outside –to remain undivided from the invisible army and the royal we. This type of connection, I have learned, is called trauma bonding.

I think Anne Lamott or Brene Brown once shared how the the opposite of faith is certainty.  In recovery, we learn to develop and practice faith through examination and release of THE things we have known and believed(about ourselves, others, god, love, connection, goodness)—things of which we were absolutely certain.  In recovery, we come to see that much of our beliefs have been fear-based, untrue, and destructive- handed down through generations of fearful people, desperate to feel in charge of the knowing, in order to feel strong, safe, right, and in control.  Uniformity and synchronicity were their assurances. Those clinging to these fixed mindsets may often be both politically correct and morally & spiritually undeveloped.

I realized today that one of my favorite things is discovery of a thing which I have been righteously wrong about. Because I prioritize my learning and expansion, I refuse to miss out on either– by staying too busy in my knowingness and rightness. Sweet Greg and I enjoy the best laughs when we realize and own that we have been incorrect, misguided, ill-informed about a thing, especially something we have felt terribly right about. One of our only real conflicts ended with him saying to me: “I am sorry, I was too busy being right. ” For the record, he is rarely the one in need of apologizing. And when he does falter, how he handles that is extraordinarily charming and lovable. We are not the same at all and not always in sync. Still, we enjoy immense loyalty and solidarity, I think because of our shared commitment to self-reflection, growing, learning, healing. One of us though, still has much more of all of those things to do than the other. Deep sigh. I am a work in progress.

Saying how you feel or what you need will never ruin a healthy connection.

Pain

My grandmother visited my childhood home a few times a year and I alllllwaaaays looked forward to her arrival. She was radiant, popular, and very important. On rare occasions in which I appeared calm and not needing- she would reward me with a glimmer of her light and a smile. In that moment, I felt warm, seen, wanted, and a teeny bit less unsafe. I. had. earned. her. affection. Yaaay. I would say I spent 90% of my time with her, feeling the chill of her deliberate shadow. When she did openly appear to approve me though, so did the rest of her family. So cool. Right? Total Acceptance. Only, not!

But then, I would get a feeling or a need and her “light” would be abruptly turned off or away. Emotional whiplash– one moment enjoying approval and something like connection (for having randomly pleased or amused her) and the next, feeling demoralized, abandoned, anxious. There was no doubt that Grandmother’s approval was essential– but I could not grasp or even come close to meeting the elusive requirements. I am by nature; intense, anxious, uncomfortable, almost always tired and hungry and also a “picky” eater. … a real asshole. Actually, those things do not make me assholey. I do believe that my reactive behaviors to being collectively treated as bad and unworthy, made me one, for sure. 

I was the cautionary tale, the youngest of cousins/grandchildren and with not even a mother to count on as a trusted ally. The division was clear. Those pleasing to grandmother and those who did so less– or not at all. My actual being challenged and frustrated my mother– which caused her mother anger with me, and this upset all of the people. What. A. Mess. 

My sister, a favorite of Grandmas, the oldest of the cousins and grandchildren, embraced a role as diminisher of anyone, daring to express or elicit differing and/or difficult feelings. This is how the family version of peace was maintained.  Observable discomfort was openly judged, mocked, shunned. Literally, nobody overtly objected to this style of management. For a moment, I almost feel compassion for my sister. She was, after all, probably only trying to secure her space, on the more favorable side of the crosshairs.

My sons’ father comes from a similar family dynamic. Silent treatment and ghosting are classic and unifying tactics for those unable to tolerate honest expression of pain: pain which they personally experience OR pain which they caused another. BECAUSE —

Pain and difficult feelings are caused only by assholes

and

felt only by broken, delusional, losers.

Honest, open expression of pain is strictly inadmissible. 

If I say no to someone and they get angry, it does not mean I should have said yes.

What is Schadenfreude?

Though I am intimately familiar with the energy and attitudes which I have always identified in the “serves you right- types”, I have only just now discovered the term Schadenfreude.   I find it fascinating that there is no English equivalent for:  pleasure derived by someone from another person’s misfortune. I will not lie, I have definitely had Schadenfreudey moments of my own, and am not yet equipped to effectively use this word in a sentence. But I find incredible relief and healing each time I learn language for things which previously defied articulation. 

My program of recovery has me frequently, if not obsessively checking my motives to see if I am being honest with myself about myself and my thinking.  I questioned if reporting the details of my story which shines, what I would consider to be an unfavorable light, upon the actions of my female sibling, is some version of Schadenfreude.  It is absolutely not.  If illuminating actions harmful to my children and family might help to reduce the occurrences, that is neither punitive nor pleasing, just sane self preservation– and is also not self-promotion.  If an image-obsessed person feels that their actions may judged unwholesome and harmful and worry about being perceived unfavorably, then- it makes good sense to share in this way.  This is a desperate attempt to stop the bleeding.

In a few of our final exchanges, about 4 years ago, my sister, immediately prior to her alignment with my ex, enjoyed reporting to me about her co-worker named Allison, whom she did not care for.  My sister proudly boasted knowing exactly how to get Allison G. to “quit or to cook her own goose”.  Within a few days, Allison gave notice and on her last day of work, she crashed into an ambulance while driving away.  My sister expressed how comical she found this in a text, using the LMAO emoji with a car behind an ambulance.  She was victorious.  I suspect that on some level my sibling was informing me of exactly how powerful (she thinks) she was/is.  My failure to find her impressive or intimidating was probably similar to Allison’s.  I often think about finding Allison, just so I could tell her how she did not deserve or imagine being treated badly.  It can feel traumatic and shameful to be diminished and disregarded, even while possessing the intellectual understanding that– other people’s behaviors and actions are NOT about us.

Seems as though entitled people feel that saying No to them or exercising a healthy and non-negotiable boundary is deserving of negative consequences and will go to great lengths to administer them (They will try hard to SERVE YOU RIGHT, if you fail to revere them). Dare to honor yourself- AND- when they get angry, double TF down.