It Won't Always Feel Like This
Possibly a Series on Helpful Things Therapists Say
Theoretically, saying, “It won’t always feel like this” sounds hopeful, comforting, and . . . obvious. Yes, feelings do pass, that is true. But the first time this was said to me, it was a hard sell since I had “felt like this” since I was three years old.
I wondered, “Didn’t everyone feel this way? What other way was there to feel? Maybe the therapist didn’t really understand how I felt?”
I tried so many ways to explain that the feeling wasn’t just “a mood” or even depression. It was reality. It wasn’t as if I woke up OK and then thought about something that made the feeling arrive. No. I always woke dreading the day—for what seemed to be a lifetime.
The feeling of dread is a real thing for survivors and has great potential for promoting confirmation bias.
Confirmation Bias: Confirmation bias is the tendency to seek out, interpret, and remember information in a way that confirms one's preexisting beliefs or expectations while ignoring or dismissing contradictory evidence. (ChatGPT)
Once I began to acknowledge the abuse that I had subconsciously managed to bury, I also began to understand why I was so sure that the other shoe was getting ready to stomp on me. Then one day, it occurred to me that abuse did not happen every day. (For some it does for years and years. I have no idea how one survives that.) There were elements of harm that seemed ever-present in my life but the sexual abuse was not. It was a random, tragic, and unpredictable occurrence.
I decided to count up all the days when I knew that horrible things happened to me and then compare it to the total number of days in my life. The result? Most of my life was filled with ordinary days—other than dealing with the impact of trauma. I realized it wasn’t necessary to wake up with dread every day. Yet, I did.
There is another aspect to this. I don’t know if this was a generational thing, but I often heard statements like, “We have had too many nice days, stormy days are in the future.” Or, “You best not enjoy life too much, something bad is sure to happen.” This idea is still embedded in me though it makes no logical sense except that weather isn’t always lovely and life is a mixture of good and bad days. This doesn’t mean enjoying the good weather and good times would doom me to a dismal future.
I understand this part of me and how many truly awful things happened to her. It is hard for her to believe we won’t always feel this way because she always did. And she will again. But here is the most important thing I say to her. “Being happy does not bring bad things, they simply come. And yes, you will feel that way again, but even good days will feel like bad days if you don’t enjoy paradise when you can. The snakes are quite overrated.”
No, but I will feel like this again.
I wish I had thought of saying that.
Even in paradise (which was this cottage for the first year we lived here), the snake of Scott’s failing health was lurking. Suddenly, the cottage we never wanted to leave became the place we couldn’t leave without risking his health. And there I was, right back to how I felt for so many years of my life—dreading the endless days of unanswered questions, living with a very sick human, dealing with medical complications, stacks of medicines, etc.
There is a part of me who wakes up at about 3:00 in the morning and says, “See? I tried to tell you not to get so attached to paradise actually being paradise. I knew something bad was coming.”
I understand this part of me and how many really awful things happened to her. It is hard for her to believe that we won’t always feel this way because she always did. And she will again. But here is the most important thing I say to her in the night. “Being happy does not bring bad things. They simply come. And yes, you will feel that way again, but even good days will feel like bad days if you don’t enjoy paradise when you can. The snakes are quite overrated.”
When my therapist said, “You won’t always feel this way,” she wasn’t wrong. It was important for me to know that the feeling would pass. What I also needed to understand was that whenever a life crisis occurred, the feeling would return, creeping in like a snake in the garden of paradise.
It is simply true that life is filled with both easy and difficult, good and tradgedy, happy and sad. For everything there really is a season. The idea that if we are living right the tragic will not happen is damaging—especially when mixed with bad theology. The rain falls on the just and the unjust. It just does.
Did sitting on the therapy couch and hearing those words matter? Healing would certainly not be helpful if one didn’t begin to feel better—eventually. Who would go or convince anyone else to go? But healing is not a magic wand. Life is life—but how we choose to address the snake of uncomfortable life experiences as a healed and healing human is different.
Yes, healing does matter; healing does help the feelings pass more easily and it prepares us with tools to help us when life happens and the feelings of doom and dread return. It also allows us to have self-compassion when dread arrives—because feelings do return.
I was working on this article before listening to Dr. Kristin Neff present the keynote at the Attachment & Trauma Network (ATN) virtual Trauma Sensitive Schools Conference. The timing was perfect because I realized I was great at having self-compassion for my younger self who was impacted by trauma, but far less compassionate with myself when the stress of my husband’s health crisis caused feelings of dread to return. “I have worked so hard to heal, this should not be this hard!” Wrong.
Healing doesn’t change how difficult life can be! I needed to apply my skill at being compassionate to my younger selves to being compassionate with the current me—the 71 year-old-woman whose life took an abrupt and unexpected turn.
Self-compassion is simply the process of turning compassion inward.
We’re kind and understanding rather than harshly self-critical when we fail, make mistakes, or feel inadequate. We give ourselves support and encouragement rather than being cold or judgmental when challenges and difficulties arise in our lives. (Source)
It is an odd thing that my perception of what healing should look like has given me a whole new way to judge my current ability to cope with the stressful reality in my life. So, I bought the book. Anyone care to join me as I read?
Neff, Kristin; Germer, Christopher. Mindful Self-Compassion for Burnout: Tools to Help You Heal and Recharge When You're Wrung Out by Stress.
Thank you for sharing so personally. Feelings pass, feelings return, and healing isn’t negated. Simple yet so helpful. I’m sadly reminded of my CSA survivor mother who couldn’t escape the perception that “it will always feel like this” and took her life at age 60. One of her constant refrains in my growing up years was “hope for the best, but plan for the worst.” Repeated again and again, what I really heard was “expect the worst, don’t bother with hope.” So, I’m really good at planning for the worst, and it does come in handy. But being happy and enjoying life can feel risky; letting my guard down to the snakes in the garden. I’m thankful for the reminder of compassion for ongoing struggle alongside healing.
Thank you.