Dealing with Intense Emotions
When I was going through my divorce, I was in so much pain, so much grief, so much unknown, I fought to avoid the feelings. The intensity of my emotions only subsided when I fell asleep at night, and when I woke in the morning, I didn’t know how to face another day of such acute sensation. To cope, I stayed focused on the good that would come out of my hardship - maybe I would be happier, maybe my kids would be happier, maybe I could learn and grow from my past. Maybe… I could heal. Maybe… I could love again.
I tried to build myself up through exercise and self-improvement. I pivoted my business and set new goals. I was determined to renew myself and emerge a better, more successful, stronger person.
I was determined to RISE.
Not all bad. But what I didn’t do, was stay with the current pain. I didn’t hold myself inside the heartache and sadness. I didn’t sit with my emotions and allow them to consume my body. I didn’t honor the uncomfortable feelings; consequently, I didn’t honor myself.
I thought maybe if I was strong enough, optimistic enough, and faithful enough, I could bypass the discomfort of the grieving process and simply move on to self-actualization.
So imagine my dismay when a year a half went by and I still had residue from my marriage lingering. I still had days when I questioned my decision. I still had days that reminded me how much easier my life would be with a partner.
Someone asked me a few days after my divorce how I was doing.
“It’s so hard.” I answered. “I still feel so sad.”
“But, it’s what you wanted. It was your choice.” She answered back.
My gut stabbed in defense and a scratchy wad of conviction rose in my throat. “Choice” is the wrong word. Also, just because the divorce was the right decision, the healthiest choice, didn’t mean the process or the reality was easy. Her comment made me feel more ashamed of my emotions, and even made me question my entire thought-process. If getting divorced was right, would I still feel so bad? Did the pain point to a wrong decision?
No. In fact, decisions made in our best interest often bring difficult and uncomfortable emotions. Decisions that don’t insight an emotional response are most likely the ones we should be wary of. Easy or free from sensation, does not equate to being healthy or beneficial.
In the tidal wave of COVID-19, in the process of sheltering in place and massively adjusting our lives and the way we do things, I find myself reverting to my old ways of grabbing for something that will launch me out of the grief and fear. I want a life-vest, a captain, and a ship to take me out of here, far away. Like my divorce, I want to skip the important, essential pain and jump straight to the exhilarating awakening. What does this all mean? How will humanity come out better? I want to sail off into the sunset without putting in the effort of everything that must come before.
When we avoid pain, we avoid our truth. The truth is, Today I am sad. The truth is, I am scared. The truth is, I am questioning my worth, my parenting, and my financial future. The truth is, I am unsure. Old patterns and beliefs about myself are circling, like hungry piranhas biting at the surface of my being.
You’re weak. You’re stressed. We can trick you into not believing in yourself.
Maybe it’s time to just sit down.
When someone emerges from a situation better, stronger, more capable, it is because they actually acknowledged themselves. They allowed the difficult and painful sensations to rise and burn. They sat in the fire and felt the swell of life rise inside them like hot coals. In doing so, they discovered new truth, which allowed them to pass through the fire and emerge a different version of themselves. Otherwise, we will only repeat the same unhealthy patterns, and we’ll wonder why we keep ending up back in the same place.
The great thing is that you cannot do sitting in the fire wrong. (Unless you avoid it all together.) You only need to be there for yourself, whatever that looks like in any given moment.
There is something brilliant and magical about the times we feel defeated. Being humble and vulnerable enough to explore our grief can answer some really insightful questions, and then, will lead to healing, not only for this situation, but healing from all situations where we have avoided the pain of being human. That’s the cool thing about healing - as you expose and transform one pain point, you also heal others. Your reaction to any difficult situation is most likely a patterned reaction to any adversity, so every action and belief is a linked component and a clue to another.
My need to fix myself and improve myself after my divorce pointed to the fact that I felt unworthy of love, unworthy of a healthy marriage, and unworthy in general, especially without the safety and validation of a man.
Not surprisingly, I dreamed of who the next man would be to save me. Where was he? Had I already met him? Would I meet him soon? Like we so often do, I reached outside of myself for something to approve and complete me. Maybe a date would fix me. Maybe a new pair of shoes would fix me. Maybe several drinks and a new career would fix me.
There were no external fixes, just like today. There were only illusions that would delay my healing until I had the courage to sit with my pain.
Acknowledgement of our wholeness as well as our brokenness must come from within. When we are broken, we offer ourselves patience and care. We tend to our inner child, and we understand that healing takes time. I was sad after my divorce because divorce is SAD. I didn’t need to analyze or question it so much, but rather, just stay with it.
The recognition of our inherent wholeness must also come from within. And that means trusting the process. That means not skipping parts of the grief. That means sitting down and spending some time with ourselves. Today is not the day to abandon yourself. Today is the day to listen - to all the parts that need care and attention. We are strong enough to sit in the fire, but sometimes that looks like taking a nap, meditating, or just doing absolutely nothing. Sometimes strength, growth and grace, look oddly simple and unassuming. Like the seed that grows for the most part underground, unnoticed until the stem pushes through soil and flowers its showy blooms, most of our deep inner work happens underground too. We are in it now. There is no need to bypass or move through too quickly.