Are you dealing with grief? Feeling stressed? Here’s what helped me to get through tough times -including challenges like break ups, job losses, health issues, rejections, setbacks, betrayals, etc.. Plus I share the 5 stages of grief – and explain how to use these to your benefit.
I learned a valuable happiness lesson thanks to a near-death experience on a moped in Mykonos. This collision of inspiration happened about 20 years ago, on vacation with my two good friends, Robyn and Art. We’d each rented mopeds to travel to a distant beach. Robyn and Art were nervous about their moped skills. I was not.
Back in New York, where I lived (and happily still do live – thanks to a miracle of sorts!) I was an avid cyclist. As soon as I slipped my toosh onto that moped seat, I felt just as home traveling the winding hills of Greece, as I did on my Trek bike in Central Park.
Robyn and Art however were more trepid riders. They preferred to go snail-pace slowly. The path we were on was highly winding – like the top of a soft serve ice cream cone – swirling round and round. The beach where we wanted to go was located where the bottom of the cone would be.
For a while I moved at the same slow and steady pace as my friends. Eventually I decided to speed ahead – just for a few minutes – to feel the wind muss up my hair. I was in the midst of my speed-ahead-jaunt, when suddenly the wind morphed from friendly and breezy into mean and mischievous. It brutally swept in – and began thrusting me to my right – where an incredibly steep cliff awaited.
I tapped into all my upper arm strength and swerved the moped towards the mountain wall. Just as I was about to hit smack into the wall, I put all my might into swerving the moped again – this time, as far away from the mountain wall as I could muscle going.
I didn’t hit the mountain wall; however, I did find my various arms and legs trapped beneath and within the moped.
I didn’t want my friends to see me entangled and disgraced.
It didn’t work.
Not even sort of.
“Karen, what happened to you?” my friend Art asked the moment he saw me.
“You’re gushing blood,” my friend Robyn added. “Look at your arms! Look at your knees! There’s blood everywhere.”
“What are you talking about?” I asked in disbelief. “I’m okay, I’m okay, I’m okay.”
“You’re not okay,” insisted Art.
But I truly did not see or feel my injuries.
“Yes I am okay,” I insisted. “I’m okay, I’m okay, I’m okay.”
Robyn came over – held up my right arm for me to examine more carefully. “Karen, this elbow in particular is bleeding a lot. See?”
As soon as I did, I began feeling them too. Incredible pain. I became dizzy. I could barely talk.Admittedly, I preferred to have never seen or felt the truth of my wounds. So much so, I still kept insisting to my friends I was okay – although I was now throbbing all over with pain.
I refused to see a doctor, and stoically got back on that cursed moped (yikes!) and continued to the beach -where I proceded to drink lots of Ouzo!
Thankfully since this Mykonos Episode, I haven’t experienced other near death experiences – at least in the physical sense.
However, I have had a few “emotional-near-death-experiences” – where I felt like my life had come to an end.
“I’m okay!” I’d answer. “I’m okay, I’m okay, I’m okay.”
Just like on that mountain in Mykonos, I’d plead okay-ness.
I didn’t want my friends to potentially judge my foolishness in having crashed my heart into that giant wall of shame called “What Were You Thinking?”
Some of this was due to the belief that as a self help author I should be held to a higher standard of pain avoidance and pain threshold.
Although truth be told, I’ve always felt more comfy as helper than helpee.
All my life my immediate response to emotional pain has been to make jokes. Lots of jokes. Plus I’d eat chocolate. Far too much chocolate.
One of my go-to jokes…
I’d joke so much about my gut-wrenching pain that I came up with a word for this: “enterpaining.”
I even made dark-humored jokes after my sexual assault – quipping how I was extra surprised by the event – because didn’t think I was wearing such an attractive outfit that day!
Plus, my bellows humor came into big time play after a devastating break up. “It seems my ex went from jackpot to jack*ss!” was a favorite joke at the time.I’d do whatever I could to put my tragedy into a quick spin-cycle of humor and try to re-tell it all as a comedic story – laughing my canned, highly hollow laugh-track of one.
I thought I was covering up my pain in a nice pretty party-friendly dress of “enterpainment” – but alas, this cover-up seemed to be slightly see-through.
“Are you okay?” friends would continue to ask – holding my gaze – searching for tear precipitation ahead.
“I’m okay,” I’d insist. “I’m okay, I’m okay, I’m okay, I’m okay – OKAY?!”
But I was far from okay.
Next, I’d set my oven alarm to go off in five minutes.
I’d return to the living room, throw myself onto my sofa – and cry, cry, cry, cry, cry
When the oven alarm went off five minutes later, I’d command my tears to stop.
Yes, I was even afraid to reveal my vulnerability alone to myself!
I thought I was healing faster, smarter, better.
Unfortunately my personally plotted pain avoidance tools of humor, chocolate and oven timers were not much faster, smarter or better than those more famous strategies of alcohol, drugs, shopping, sex, gambling, sleeping pills, overly-busying yourself with work, etc.
In tough times, these techniques share the same mission:
But meanwhile denial simply delays our healing process – because we’re not tending to our emotional wounds with the appropriate salves of awareness, compassion and honest connections with others.
Share honest connection with others? That last one was a real doozy to do.
But then one day I was working out at the gym. I was unable to do a variety of free weight maneuvers – due to old injuries to my elbow from my Mykonos moped collision.
I could feel – and even hear – an uncomfortable clicking sound. Soon after my elbow began to bug me regularly – getting dressed, doing yoga, carrying anything heavy.
I thought back to the accident – how I’d stoically refused to confess my pain and see a doctor.
Because I never faced the truth of my wounds – I didn’t wisely take the time to re-set what was apparently a fractured elbow.
As a result, some bones had permanently settled into misalignment.
By insisting “okayness” during tough times (break ups, my sexual assault, my father’s passing, that shocking business betrayal etc…) I was not tending properly to the healing of my inner self.
I started to do lots of research on resiliency psychology.
So, by simply sharing how you feel you can calm yourself by 50%.
Plus, many research studies support how when you begin talking about your emotions, you leave the “fight and flight” animal instinct part of your brain. You then tap into your neocortex – where rational thinking and helpful insights can be found.
It’s so essential to happiness to speak your truth out loud!
Sharing of your core pain is what creates a necessary healing shift – from negative beliefs about the world – to positive beliefs. It then frees you up to be able to fully view tough times with meaning, purpose. Plus create more meaningful connections with others.
Emile Zola said it well when he said: “If you ask me what I came into this life to do, I will tell you: I came to live out loud.”
When my son was younger, he’d sometime kick and punch when he was upset.
I suppose brain scientists would say it’s because my son was leaving his “fight or flight” brain zone (which is what inspired those kicks and punches in the first place) and tapping into his neocortex – allowing him to formulate his mayhem thoughts into relatable feelings and sentences.
Whatever the scientific reason for my son’s shift from chaotic to calm, I’ve witnessed the magic which happens when my my son takes the time to share his truth out loud.
Here’s another interesting research study on the power of speaking your truth – from Dr. Dina Carbonell of Simmons College.
Dr. Carbonell tracked 400 people – from ages 5 to 30 for 25 years – seeking the main characteristics of those who did best in difficult circumstances.
So, I hid behind the mask of “okay-ness” – blocking this nourishing light from coming in.
Truth be told…
I wasn’t sure who to trust with knowing my big secret:
Yes, for many years I felt I needed to hide my flaws and vulnerabilities – fearful people would like me less if I didn’t keep presenting myself as more!
One day I made a list of my friends – then got quiet. I asked myself:
Some people I soon discovered weren’t as safe as I thought. I could feel their discomfort around my imperfect self. However, with other friends I wound up developing far stronger relationships!
The people to truly treasure in life are those who have seen you at your worst – and still think you are the best.
The folks who are happy for your happiness – and sad for your sadness – and make it crystal clear they are there for you – no matter what.
In my research for Bounce Back Book, I wrote about the 5 real stages of grief – which Elizabeth Kübler-Ross famously outlined. Although Elizabeth does not include chocolate, she does call the first stage “Denial and Isolation” -which indirectly refers to pigging out!
However just as pregnancy is a process which cannot be rushed, the same goes for the process of recovery from pain – both the physical and emotional kinds.
You must fearlessly face up to the truth of your wounds to heal fully.
Plus, you must give time time – and be patient and gentle with yourself.
Indeed courageous people feel just as much fear. It’s just that they choose to keep moving through their fear. In a way this word “fearless” should be renamed “fearthrough.”
If you’re trying to get through tough times right now – and tempted to stay in denial and isolation – my hope for you is that you move through your pain!
Please allow yourself to be “fearthrough” – and face up to the truth of your core pain – not only while alone with yourself – but in the company of Safe Friends.
As I repeatedly remind my son – and now myself: “Say how you feel! Use your words! Use your words!”
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