Slippery Slope of Feelings
Feelings are a slippery slope. When we start to feel sadness, anger, or resentment, they feel like yucky, ugly emotions. These emotions head us down a slippery slope into this pit of despair that we believe we will never get out of. So we'll stop ourselves from heading down the slippery slope, preventing ourselves from acknowledging the emotion.
I visualize a woman who has changed her mind about going down a water slide with her arms and legs stretched out to brace herself and prevent herself from sliding down. The effort to brace herself causes more pain than if she allowed the feelings. In the first spiral of the theme of feelings, I shared how feelings are like the beach ball that we keep trying to push down into the ocean. We can do that for a minute or two, but then—poof!—the feelings ball always forces its way up. Most of us with HFA, have been taught that the slippery slope implies, "Oh, if I head down into that feeling, then I'm going to be feeling sorry for myself and be stuck in wallowing. It will create too much drama." In reality, embracing the slippery slope is the key. When we embrace it and acknowledge our feelings, they dissipate and we avoid the drama. And then we can slide on past the pit of despair.
I know I have a funny relationship with drama. Growing up, the message was frequently sent that drama was not ok. We might have been told we were overly dramatic. I remember as a child being told I was too dramatic because I was sad for too long after our family cat died. We might have witnessed our loved ones judging others for being dramatic. My parents would be critical of their friends for being overly emotional and drama-filled–forever linking overly emotional and drama-filled as bad ideas. As a result, we hate drama. And yet, because we don't acknowledge our feelings, the drama becomes one of the ways we express our feelings.
In response to feeling shame for being too dramatic, we created a rigid definition of drama. To avoid the appearance of drama, we can't have feelings OR needs because both will make us OVERLY dramatic. This is the all-or-nothing thinking of the Monger. Any drama is BAD. Drama is more likely when you have feelings and needs because they can be messy. Therefore there will be NO needs or feelings. I must be HAPPY all the time. The idea of suck it up, buttercup, keep soldiering on, no one wants to hear your whining, keeps us stuck.
In my 20s, I wanted to be in a serious relationship, but I just kept jumping into relationships that ended poorly, and I would be left feeling sad and rejected. When I noticed the sadness and disappointment creeping in, I would distract myself with food or alcohol. But when the feelings became too overwhelming, I would talk to a friend for HOURS, analyzing what went wrong, what I did wrong, what he did wrong, and why it didn't work out. Usually, these conversations involved alcohol, which led to lots of analysis, drama, and feeling sorry for myself. I remember hating the drama and the over-analysis, but I didn't know how to stop it.
At the time, I was just doing what I learned over time. I was told growing up that the only appropriate feeling is happy. If I wasn't feeling happy, my Monger would tell me I had better have a good reason for being so sad, which led me to believe that I needed to make my feelings big and bold so that they were worthy of feeling. And once they were big and bold, I had to analyze them to try to get them to go away. It is so ironic that the one thing I didn't want, drama, was the only way I knew how to justify my feelings. This pattern sucked me right down the slippery slope into wallowing. No wonder I was so scared of it—I ended up in the pit of despair every time. It never dawned on me that I didn't have to justify my feelings; I needed to simply acknowledge them.
In my 20s, there wasn't any actual acknowledgment of the feeling, and there wasn't any loyalty and support, "Oh, sweet pea, this is hard. Breakups suck, and feeling insecure is so hard."
When we head down the slippery slope, two things need to happen.
1. Acknowledgment of the feelings. Which we have talked about a lot. So in the breakup, acknowledging and honoring how sad and painful it is to be in such painful relationships
2. Support and loyalty for yourself. This can look like: Oh sweetie, it sucks to feel sad. Breakups are the worst, and I know you want to find someone. It is ok. We will be ok." And it can even get a little more meta. I was raised in a house where being sad wasn't ok, so I will provide myself with some extra support. "I know how hard it is to be sad. It is super uncomfortable. That is ok."
When I notice myself resisting the slippery slope, I kindly remind myself I am human, and unfortunately, that means I have feelings. Then I practice A.S.K. Acknowledge what I am feeling, Slow down and get into my body, and kindly pull back to see the big picture. This process allows me to acknowledge my feeling and offer loyalty to myself.
Acknowledging our feelings and offering support and loyalty to ourselves prevents us from entering the pit of despair. But it rarely is our first response—that is ok. The key is catching it as quickly as possible. Noticing when we are making our feelings bigger and bolder so we can justify them and reminding ourselves that it isn't necessary. Our feelings don't have to be big and bold to be justified.
AND if you have ANY thoughts, questions, or ah-ha's about the content—send me an email at questions@selfloyaltyschool.com or head over to the website, sign in to the student portal and fill out the Q&A form. Ask Nancy Jane, and I will answer them in the next Q&A session. Q&A sessions will be recorded and appear on the Ask Nancy Jane podcast feed and in the member area on the last Tuesday of every month.