Tag: Atlas of the Heart

pie graph describing emotions behind anger (like shame)

The Antidote to Shame – Share Your Story (thanks Brené!)

EricaLeave a comment

I recently watched John Mulaney’s newest comedy special on Netflix called “Baby J.” I like John Mulaney, I think he’s funny. He’s got at least two or three other specials on Netflix from earlier years, but he hadn’t done anything in a while due to some crazy life circumstances he went through. His newest special, “Baby J,” is really him opening up about what the last 2-3 years had in store for him.

Obviously in the last 2-3 years, we ALL went through a little thing called COVID-19. So in a sense, all of our worlds were kind of rocked. But John Mulaney had a particularly difficult time, and he begins sharing that experience in the first few minutes of his show. He kicks it off by describing his process of finally having to deal with his drug addiction and going to rehab. And he does it in a way that is funny! I loved that he just came right out and talked about the elephant in the room. His entire special is about what’s it like to go to rehab, how he really didn’t want to go to rehab, and how badly the drug addiction had a hold on him. And I respect him so much for doing a special all about that. Yes, it’s funny – but it’s also so beautiful and real.

I have no experience with drug rehab, but I admit it did remind me a bit of going into the mental health hospital when I had postpartum depression. So maybe in the tiniest way, I felt like I could relate. I could relate to people being worried about me. I could relate to having to be away from friends and family in a facility that kind of felt like a prison, and where many of my basic rights and choices were taken away from me. But I was only in the hospital for a week. John Mulaney describes being in rehab for months.

Tom Felton's book: Beyond the Wand

It reminded me of another person who recently shared their experience of rehab and addiction: Tom Felton. Earlier this year I read his memoir, Beyond the Wand, and like with Mulaney’s special, I also remember being appreciative that he would share his story and be honest. His story started the same way John Mulaney’s did – with an intervention by friends and family. A bunch of people all gathered in a room for hours on end, trying to convince someone they love to agree to get help. Which both Felton and Mulaney eventually did.

Both Felton and Mulaney describe the intense anger that they had in those moments of confrontation. They both knew they were in bad places, and I don’t think either of them were surprised that they suddenly found themselves at the center of an intervention. But they both describe feeling livid.

What is it about others telling us that we need help that makes us get so angry? Why is anger our first emotion when people who love us want us to get healthier? Is anger covering up our shame? I would guess it’s something like that. And I think Brené Brown would guess that too.

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woman with her head (literally) in the clouds

My Word for 2023: CURIOSITY

Erica1 Comment

Normally at the beginning of a new year, I come up with a word – a focus for the year ahead. But when January 1 rolled around this year, I was drawing a blank.

I was in a bad place at the beginning of this year. Well, really since earlier than that. But everything sort of culminated in January. I had poured my heart and soul into trying to get pregnant in 2022. I felt like God or the universe (or someone) had given me signs that it was going to happen. And then it didn’t.

When 2023 started, I was so angry. I felt like I was angrier than I’ve ever been in my life. Angry at everyone, I hated everything.

I told my therapist that I was tired of hurting, I wanted to feel better now, but I didn’t know how to make that happen. And she told me that maybe I was doing exactly what my body and mind needed me to do: simply being in a horrible, bad place and just feeling my feelings.

It reminded me of the practice of mindfulness. I needed to be aware, without judgment, of my feelings and just sit with them for a while. If I repressed them or tried to pretend that they weren’t there, I wouldn’t be able to move past them or heal.

Feeling my feelings was not the answer I wanted to hear. I wanted a pill, a drug, a quick fix to my problems. I had felt so many feelings already and it was exhausting! How could I make them go away?

We left that therapy session and I (jokingly) told Dean, “what are we paying her so much for?” She hadn’t solved my problems, she hadn’t fixed my pain. But I found out about 3 weeks later that she was 100% right.

For 3 weeks, I burned with anger at God and the world. I resented hearing about any new pregnancy announcements. I was lethargic and unmotivated about most everything – with the exception that I decided to start training for a half marathon. That was my one goal, my one distraction that kept me grounded. And I had so much anger that running was a good way to get it out, or at least to fuel my runs.

For 3 weeks my body worked through a lot of the hurt. I grieved. I processed. I survived a faith crisis (that’s a whole other story). And then suddenly it started to not hurt as much. I hadn’t “done” anything in particular. I had started exercising (good), I had done a lot of journaling of my feelings (also good), and I had shared and cried with some of my closest friends about my sadness and grief – and because they are wonderful friends, they listened without judgment and offered me grace and compassion.

I’m not going to pretend like it doesn’t still hurt, it does. But the constant feeling like someone has kicked me in the chest has gone away. The clouds have lifted and I’m feeling more like myself, the Erica before joining the infertility club.

Honestly, I had kind of forgotten who I was before becoming so obsessed with trying to get pregnant. It had taken over me. It seemed like all the fun, spontaneous, and happy parts of me had gotten lost, and the only parts left of me were the ugly, angry, and bitter ones.

In that same therapy session where I told my therapist I was tired of hurting, I also told her that I wanted to get another tattoo. “Another tattoo?” she said. She hadn’t even noticed the one I had on my wrist. I then told her that I kind of wanted a sleeve, but that I wasn’t totally sure what I would get – maybe I’d let my tattoo artist help me decide.

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