Dealing with feelings of shame can be divided into steps that help mightily to defuse the whole miserable state of mind.
This thinking comes from a book noted in an earlier post here: Brene Brown's I Thought It Was Just Me (But It Isn't): Telling the Truth about Perfectionism, Inadequacy, and Power. It's quite a good and useful book.
One of her techniques is "practicing critical awareness," which is looking hard at the trigger for the shame. Here's her procedure:
1. "Contextualize (I see the big picture)" This means noticing how economic, social, and political forces are involved in the situation. Doesn't mean to shift the responsibility for solving a problem, but it does take the edge off the shame.
2. "Normalize (I'm not the only one)" If you're not the only one, then there's less basis for feelings of personally inadequacy.
3. "Demystify (I'll share what I know with others)" Talk about the problem. And ask questions to get the info that will help. It may turn out several others in the neighborhood are keeping the same dark secret. We can help each other, or at least enjoy the company of people who understand.
One other tidbit of wisdom from this source: When other people say dumb things about the painful situation, don't counterattack. "That doesn't get us anywhere." Instead say something on the order of: that hurt my feelings. "It seems counterintuitive, but telling someone how we feel takes more courage and is often more powerful than verbally attacking them."
A small personal application: I've railed repeatedly here about some bad treatment at the "hands" of a health insurance company. One part of this reaction is that I'm ashamed that I can be taken advantage of. One of my buried assumptions is that part of my job in life is to have the savvy to keep this from happening. When I fail at this, I feel like a schlump.
Looking at this with the Brene Brown system:
1. The context: the entire healthcare payment system is in severe disrepair, to the point of national crisis. One piece of that is that our medicine is so advanced that we have tests and treatment that almost no one can afford. That's the big picture.
2. God knows, I'm not the only one.
3. I'm sure talking about it.
I still have the stupid assumption that I should be capable of throwing over such problems, and I haven't. But this critical thinking process does take away some of the feeling of failure, embarrassment and shame. And getting rid of those probably makes me more capable of dealing with a problem.
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Showing posts with label mental health. Show all posts
Showing posts with label mental health. Show all posts
Wednesday, March 04, 2009
Tuesday, November 11, 2008
Getting Rid of an Obsession
An excellent primer on stopping an obsessive thought is posted on Beliefnet, which is a great place to explore/talk about any sort of spiritual belief or doubt.
The ideas in the piece are familiar to me--but then I'm quite a student of obsessions and the stoppage of them. However, I don't recall seeing them so well condensed and assembled, also with pictures for each that are oddly persuasive.
Obsession can get in the way of boldness or of any movement at all.
Once I went to a party that reminded me of this. It was a birthday party held in a warehouse-like space that was already filled with an art piece. The art was made up of the old narrow single beds from a state mental hospital. They were empty and made up with white sheets, and all the air between and above them was thickly cobwebbed with black string. A terrific three-dimensional visual of what obsession feels like -- one aspect of it, anyway.
So the guests were given scissors and we cut down the net of obsessions. I have somewhere a picture of myself doing that. It was satisfying to do, and useful to remember: to do what's necessary to cut through that sticky stuff.
Added note: some obsessions, like a romantic yearning, we don't always want to give up hope on. Once when I was single I had one of those hanging on too long. My therapist said, "Cut it off." By which he meant giving up every hope or ambition. I said, "That's hard." He said, "As hard as my cutting off my own hand." I have to say, though, it worked, and was a lot less painful in the long run. It was time.
If you like this post, please bookmark it on del.icio.us, share it on StumbleUpon, vote for it on Digg. Thanks so much.
The ideas in the piece are familiar to me--but then I'm quite a student of obsessions and the stoppage of them. However, I don't recall seeing them so well condensed and assembled, also with pictures for each that are oddly persuasive.
Obsession can get in the way of boldness or of any movement at all.
Once I went to a party that reminded me of this. It was a birthday party held in a warehouse-like space that was already filled with an art piece. The art was made up of the old narrow single beds from a state mental hospital. They were empty and made up with white sheets, and all the air between and above them was thickly cobwebbed with black string. A terrific three-dimensional visual of what obsession feels like -- one aspect of it, anyway.
So the guests were given scissors and we cut down the net of obsessions. I have somewhere a picture of myself doing that. It was satisfying to do, and useful to remember: to do what's necessary to cut through that sticky stuff.
Added note: some obsessions, like a romantic yearning, we don't always want to give up hope on. Once when I was single I had one of those hanging on too long. My therapist said, "Cut it off." By which he meant giving up every hope or ambition. I said, "That's hard." He said, "As hard as my cutting off my own hand." I have to say, though, it worked, and was a lot less painful in the long run. It was time.
If you like this post, please bookmark it on del.icio.us, share it on StumbleUpon, vote for it on Digg. Thanks so much.
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