Posted on Dec 29, 2024
December has been an interesting month for me with surprisingly more highs than lows. Living with dysthymia makes happiness a somewhat elusive emotion. However, this month I noted more than once in my journal that I either woke up happy or experienced a moment feeling happy. A notable turning point involved embracing the grief process for my dissolved marriage.
It surprised me to realize I have been stuck in the bargaining stage or facet of grief for much of the last 7 years. I could recall the initial phase of shock and denial as well as intense anger. But I realized I hadn’t experienced real sadness nor acceptance. The 5 stages of grief established by Elizabeth Kubler-Ross have become common knowledge in some ways, but not everyone is familiar with them. While Kubler-Ross presented them as stages, grief is not a sequential process that once embarked upon is neatly completed in “5 easy steps.” Anyone who has been through deep grief will confirm it is a chaotic rather than simple process.
For many years as a therapist, I interpreted the grief stages as a spiral that we move back and forth along – sometimes spiralling through the 5 phases in a single day. Or a new grief triggers another trip along the spiral for an old loss we thought was long buried. This past year, I re-interpreted the grief process as a diamond with at least the established 5 facets: shock/denial, anger, bargaining, depression, and acceptance.
In the initial stage of shock and denial, we experience a sense of ‘this can’t be happening.’ In anger, we loudly protest that ‘this shouldn’t have happened’ and bemoan the unfairness of our loss. During bargaining, we get caught up in a litany of ‘if onlys’ and ‘what ifs.’ Depression is the opportunity to sit with our sadness and acknowledge any feelings of powerlessness, hopelessness, loneliness, and profound loss. Acceptance allows us to consider the future and what might yet be as well as come to terms with the absence of a person, job, marriage, friendship house, community, pet, health, dream, ideal, or any myriad of ways we experience loss.
I also appreciate the concept of a diamond as coal under pressure producing a beautiful result from the process of grief. Any which way we twist the gem of grief, we will see another facet (shock/denial, anger, bargaining, depression, acceptance, and any others that might reveal themselves). We will feel the heft of the weight and acknowledge the pressure that created the sparkle we hold in our hand. In this context, we can consider grief as a gift – one that allows us to feel and think deeply, to honour what was or what could’ve been, to make room for new experiences, relationships, possessions, etc. To be human. For grief is a marker of life as well as death – whether that be the death of a loved one, an ideal, a belief system, a circumstance, a relationship, or a dream.
Sometimes, however, we get stuck in a facet of grief. We can all think of times when we ourselves or people we know have gotten mired in denial, or anger, or bargaining, or depression. In my case, it was a surprise to realize I had gotten bogged down in bargaining in the form of over-analyzing my marriage: where had it all gone so wrong? This led to spiralling through shock/denial (can’t believe this happened), anger (this shouldn’t have happened), and back to bargaining (how did this happen?). There are tricks to move from one facet to another when we get stuck. For this blog, I will focus on how I got unstuck from bargaining.
I had to recognize that regardless of ‘how’ it happened, it, in fact, happened – and no amount of analyzing would change that. Bargaining changes nothing. But, for whatever reason, it is a necessary facet of grief. Once I realized I had gotten stuck in over-analyzing, which might also be part of my OCD, I had to move into depression or sadness. It struck me as odd that I had never actually felt sad about the death of my marriage – which also meant acknowledging the loss and sadness of never having the partner that I wanted and imagined for myself.
My journal for December is full of little ah-ha moments and statements such as “grieving I didn’t get what I wanted and now I want something different.” Moving through these facets made me look at the pitfalls of partnership, especially my loss of personal power and sense of self. I also noted in reference to future splits: “I will know it was about the relationship dynamics and not about me.” And I had to accept that this went for my marriage as well. It was about dynamics, not me.
In some weird cosmic twist, releasing myself from my disrupted marriage freed me to get to know my True Self better. A social meme quote from Nikki Giovanni enabled me to see my “failed” marriage in a new light: “I really don’t think life is about the I-could-have-beens. Life is only about the I-tried-to-do. I don’t mind the failure; but I can’t imagine that I’d forgive myself if I didn’t try.” I certainly tried to make a marriage like the one I envisioned from my early indoctrination of what it should look like.
The fact that it didn’t work is not about the whys and wherefores (the could have beens) but about the fact that I tried to make an ideal happen – and failed. But I tried. And by consciously moving through the facets of grief, it has freed me to explore other possibilities and released my Self from outdated expectations and ideals. I have discovered things about myself that would have remained buried if I hadn’t allowed the pressure of the grief process to surface a diamond-in-the-rough.
Some of those discoveries will likely be fodder for future blogs. For now, feel free to share your experiences with the facets of the grief diamond. What beauty has surfaced for you? Where have you gotten stuck? How did you move through to the next facet? What sorts of losses have you processed through to acceptance? Have any old losses been triggered afresh with new ones?
May your exploration of the grief facets release you to experience your life more fully in unexpected ways and renewed sparkle.
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Posted on Nov 25, 2024
November has been an interesting month: nothing new and noteworthy, but challenging in its blandness. I have struggled a little bit with a persistent low mood – not a full-on depressive episode, but a sense of blah-ness likely triggered by the prolonged grey weather. It has also been challenging as I continue to process old journal entries of 20+ years ago: more ways that I have come full circle and yet such drastic differences from my old self and way of life. So, this month’s blog entry isn’t reflective of this month in particular, but has been ‘in the works’ since September when I personally embraced a therapeutic technique that I have been using with clients for some time now.
Rather than explain each contributing therapy and then how I mash them up, I will simply acknowledge that I have combined Narrative Therapy and Internal Family Systems therapy concepts to form what I could rename as Narrative Internal Family Systems (my apologies and gratitude to the originators). The purpose of my approach is to help access deep internal woundings and how to heal them – or at least live with them more effectively – by acknowledging that we are the protagonist (main character) of our own life stories as well as the narrator (guiding the story along). However, our story and our sense of self is comprised of more than a protagonist and a narrator. Enter: the internal family.
This internal family is not a conventional one but rather a collection of characters that represent aspects of our self. While Internal Family Systems limits the cast to four specific, well-defined roles, I prefer using the narrative-inspired approach of assigning characters based upon a book or movie. Of my clients, they use characters from Marvel Comics, DC Comics, Harry Potter, and Disney’s Cinderella. My cast of characters is based upon Winnie-the-Pooh. Interestingly, it is not a love of those books that prompted my personal choice; but rather an affinity to Eeyore representing my dysthymia (particular variety of depression disorder). So while a couple of my clients have a head start on me using this approach, I will use my personal experience to expand on it.
My personal application of this mash-up approach began with recognizing Eeyore as representing my chronic battle with depression. One day I was also struggling with OCD; and out of nowhere, I found myself telling it to go sit in the corner with Eeyore. While not the best start to using this approach, it was the impetus to develop my own cast of characters and apply the principles I was teaching to clients. After watching the movie Christopher Robin, I appealed to my sister (an avid Winnie-the-Pooh fan) to help identify the rest of the members of my Internal Family System. Some took longer to sort out than others, as it will for anyone else choosing to use my version. Be patient.
My cast of characters include: Eeyore as dysthymia, Piglet as anxiety, Rabbit as OCD, the Hefalumps as cPTSD symptoms, Roo as my inner child, Kanga as the nurturing mother figure, Owl as my inner critic/over-thinker as well as represents my father/the father wound/generational trauma, Christopher as the rescuer and problem solver, and Winnie the Pooh as the main version of myself who practices mindfulness, lives in the moment, and is a quirky philosophizer. The narrator is my True Self who moves the story along as best as the characters allow. The narrator role is an interesting combination of going with the flow and guiding the story.
I also apply an intuitive component where I allow my mind to visualize the family in action – such as imagining little Roo standing in front of a charging herd of hefalumps who could either stampede around him, trample him, or stop. To my surprise, they stopped. And with the help of a hefalump’s trunk, Roo jumped aboard the leader and led them in a celebratory parade instead of whatever trauma-memory triggered the stampede. I have also visualized Owl (holding his face in my hands and kissing his beak) needing reassurance that he won’t be kicked out of the internal family as I heal the father wound. Owl will always be a part of my internal family, even if his role changes.
The tricky part of identifying characters is that they can appear to represent members of our real-life families – which they sort of do – but more the impact our family members have had on our developing sense of self. Therefore, the characters represent aspects of our Self and not real people – only their influence or family dynamics that have contributed to our messy internal world. We need help organizing this messy internal world to manage everyday symptoms and triggers. The tenet from Internal Family Systems that is important to apply to this mash-up is that of “no bad parts” and “all parts welcome.” At first, we get to know our cast like I did – by telling them to shut up or leave us alone – give us a break from their incessant nattering. As we get to know them, we can meet them where they are and provide what they need (usually reassurance of some kind).
An aspect I have incorporated is that of calling a family meeting to get to know the characters and how they interact as well as address issues. Some are bullies – like the inner critic – and others are timid (maybe the inner child) hiding in the shadowed corners. Part of being the narrator (one in charge) is to tell the loud ones to be quiet and invite the shy ones to speak up (or at least take a seat closer to the table to start). We have to teach our internal families to take turns and allow everyone a voice. When someone is particularly noisy, we need to slow the conversation down and find out what is needed – which usually involves more visualization like giving the inner child a hug, or the inner critic reassurance that perfection is not required, or anxiety that worrying will not prevent bad things from happening and that we are capable of handling whatever comes our way.
I realize this approach is difficult to apply without coaching. As a therapist, I can help guide the visualization or the conversation at the team/family meeting. I use both my intuitive gifts and my analytic mind to determine where ‘to go’ from what a client says in session. But I find clients make amazing discoveries on their own just trusting the process and their own True Self. The point is to make life more manageable, our symptoms less overwhelming, and evolve as the protagonists and narrators of our own lived stories. This approach has helped me and my clients identify root issues often buried under unruly symptoms. Seeing our selves as a collection of characters also aids integrating our fragmented selves – to become a unified whole or team rather than disparate, conflicting parts. It might sound counter-intuitive, but it works.
It also helps us to accept rejected aspects of ourselves. Everyone is welcome at the family table, but not all learned behaviours and toxic coping mechanisms are. Sometimes we have to holster the gun or hang the hat before we sit down together. And as we try new ways of being together, we find that we no longer need the gun or a certain hat anymore. We learn how to accept our self ‘as is’ and work towards a more integrated version. All parts welcome. No bad parts. What is in the shadows is welcomed into the light and that which is overbearing is asked to settle down. Collaboration. Adapting to change. This is what life is all about it – not getting it right all the time or going it alone.
I welcome any and all comments about this unique approach. Feel free to join the discussion on December 1st – just let me know, if you are not already part of the group. If you would like to try out this particular therapy approach, feel free to contact me at barb@thewindingpath.ca to discuss options.
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Posted on Oct 22, 2024
October. Typically a difficult month for me even though it is my favourite time of year. I love having a birthday in autumn. The tricky part is, it is also the anniversary of my birth-mom’s death. If something tragic or difficult is going to happen, it will be this time of year. Last year, the old school across the street from my house burned down. Fingers crossed nothing untoward happens this year – only a week or so left. I won’t go into all the strange things that have happened on or near my birthday in the past.
However, it is a time of deep reflection for me – and reading over this month’s journal entries to date has provided far more fodder for a blog entry than is possible to curate. And now that I’ve created a monthly blog discussion group (email barb@thewindingpath.ca if you’d like to join), it feels like I’ve put a tad too much pressure on myself. While there are several topics to choose from, three themes tend to weave them together: transitions, Internal Family Systems, and alone as a state of being not just physical fact. Now which one to focus on?
I am leaning towards transitions as it was serendipitous that I chose to reread a book of that title in order to revamp my handout (that would’ve come in handy at the wellness event I attended mid-September). I first read the book (Transitions by William Bridges) back when I was still married. And while the premise of rites of passage stayed with me, I needed the review of the process to help me through this month. I have been rereading various books lately – both novels and counselling-related – and I’ve been surprised how appropriate my choices have been. I keep a log of books read; and it has been interesting to observe how books resonate differently depending on my time-of-life.
Following the rites of passage model or process, transitions follow a pattern of ending, neutral zone, and new beginning. Or dying, fallow season, and rebirth. However, life doesn’t always afford such a succinct process; so often endings and beginnings overlap, and neutral zones are ignored or dismissed as unproductive – creating a time of chaos, confusion, and discontent. I think that is where I find myself this October. And it is not easy to sit in the fallow season and wait for rebirth. Nor does our Western way of thinking allow for a time of emptiness in which it appears nothing is happening when actually something is germinating.
In traditional rites of passage, an initiate is separated from the normal rhythm of life (an ending) to embark on a quest to find their sense of self or purpose or ‘next level’ of existence. A time of disorientation that results in finding oneself out of a perceived nothingness (neutral zone). When the enlightenment happens, the initiate is ready to return home a different person – a levelled-up version of themselves (e.g. leaves a boy, returns a man) – to engage in the community in new ways with increased responsibilities (new beginning).
In our modern age, this quest may involve changing jobs, homes, romantic partners, cars, careers, family responsibilities, etc. We usually find ourselves dissatisfied with the status quo but unsure what needs to change – or change is forced upon us or abrupt like losing a job, getting married, or having a baby. If we don’t acknowledge the end of the way things were (employed, single, childless), we may struggle to adapt to the new beginning (job/way of earning a living, relationship, baby). It can be confusing to unknowingly grieve the old way-of-being while trying to embrace the new (an inexplicable sadness when you are expected to be celebratory). Understanding how transitions actually transpire can help us adjust to the changes and/or make decisions that will disrupt the status quo.
So how does this apply to my month of October? Well, I’ve been working through acknowledging the old way of being Barb (i.e. an end to old coping mechanisms like being a people-pleaser, a chameleon, and a drone) in order to make way for a levelled-up version of myself. I think I’ve grasped the ending; but I’m stuck in the no-man’s land of the neutral zone. Ironically, this is a good thing, as I am not traversing an ending overlapped with a new beginning. I’m not dying and rebirthing simultaneously. 😊 The other two themes I mentioned earlier fit into this: working with my Internal Family System as we make adjustments and a sense of being alone.
Weirdly, I have come to an understanding of being alone formerly foreign to me. My old self preferred solitude (being alone) as it was where/when I felt safest. As I have dealt with some early trauma/inner child issues using my Internal Family System, I have revised my understanding of interdependence (vs hyper independence) and connectivity. Relationships are what make life bearable, enjoyable, fulfilling – and are not dangerous or a reward for getting things right. I not only have to build trust in someone in order to emerge from my cocoon, I also have to trust myself enough to let someone in to my deep interior world. Trusting myself to gauge when I am comfortable with someone to let them in – and knowing how to keep my Self (and my interior world) safe. To be alone also means acknowledging I am more of a unicorn than a chameleon. This has a lot to do with accepting my unique ways of neurodivergence – and that it is okay not to fit in. This may seem like a simple self-acceptance exercise, but it is rooted in deeply embedded shame messages that I never grasped before.
During this neutral zone or fallow season, issues are surfacing from various sources such as reading old journals for my book, changes in living arrangements, and putting myself “out there” more. Suffice to say, I see myself in relationships differently than I ever have before. And while I am not a good fit for online dating – thanks to my particular neurodivergence – I am both open to meeting someone in some unexpected way and to becoming comfortable with my current understanding of being alone. I know there is some version of myself I have yet to meet in this neutral zone/fallow season – someone who will relate with/to another equally unique soul – my fellow unicorn – “just because” and not as a reward for levelling up.
As I look over the notes I took while reading over my October journal entries, a depth of content is glossed over or missed in this introduction to transitions (such as an insight into my early childhood shyness). I’ve had some tremendous a-ha moments in this neutral zone – and that is the very point of it. We need to slow down to acknowledge what has ended, what inner chaos needs attention, to fully appreciate the next chapter unfolding. To find our way in the dark. On your own journey, where do you see yourself: in the midst of an ending, stuck in neutral, or approaching a beginning? Or can you look back at a point in your life when you can identify a dying, a fallow season, and a rebirth? Wherever you find yourself now, I hope you find/have found your way through the dark.
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