Shame Difference

Posted by fxckfeelings on November 11, 2013

Not being accepted is worse than just a terrible feeling, because it’s about who you are; it’s the reason people do everything from buy new faces to entire self-help libraries, to do whatever they can to become something or someone they don’t have to be ashamed of. Unfortunately, radically changing yourself (without the use of a scalpel, at least) is highly unlikely, so most people save their money and do everything they can to avoid non-acceptance and react negatively when it’s unavoidable. Whether you’re afraid of judgment if your true self is revealed, however, or suffer from it without hope of improvement, don’t let it define you. Build your own standards of behavior and measure your progress by how well you live up to them. Then you can accept the potential pain of non-acceptance as a sad part of life and the cost of being your own person and reject the cost of surgery and The Secret.
–Dr. Lastname

I know I drink too much and I’d like to get it under control, but I don’t want anyone to know about my problem. I don’t know what my wife would say, even though she probably already knows something’s wrong with me, but I’m afraid of what she’d think of me if I came to her to talk about it. I can’t imagine going to meetings because I’m afraid of running into someone I know. I really want to cut back, but I can’t face anyone to ask for help.

It’s normal to feel ashamed of a drinking problem, and the shame, along with dishonesty and secrecy, is one of the main ingredients of alcoholism. Just add the booze itself, shake or stir, and serve in a salt-rimmed class.

That’s why waiting until the shame disappears before facing your wife and talking about your problem is a bad plan. The more shame you feel, the less help you get, the more you do to be ashamed of, and the less likely the conversation is going happen in your lifetime.

Instead of waiting for confidence to arrive, determine your own drinking goals by asking yourself and/or talking to a counselor about what your standards of drinking behavior are. Such standards usually involve how/whether drinking effects your ability to work, be a good husband/parent, drive a car without putting lives at risk, etc. Then, using both your own memories and gathering information from people who know you, decide whether your behavior, when drinking, falls below your standards.

Once you decide you’re falling below your standards, compose a letter announcing your improvement plan and recruiting your wife’s assistance. It should begin with a positive statement about your partnership and life together, then mention your concern about this probable drinking problem and your determination to evaluate it and do what’s necessary to manage it. It should invite her observation and possible cooperation, but should not apologize.

At some point in the future, if you think your drinking has imposed a burden on her, you may decide she deserves an apology. For now, however, there’s nothing worse than allowing your decisions to be reactive to her feelings. That’s why you should edit out guilt, self-criticism, or negative emotion. You’re a responsible adult engaged in a worthwhile project and you should be proud of what you’re doing.

As much shame as you may feel, it just prevents you from getting sober and reaching the standards you find important. Sure, you’ve behaved in ways you’re not proud of, but you can be proud of the steps you’re taking now, and that’s what’s important.

STATEMENT:
“I can’t stand the idea of talking about a drinking problem with my wife, but I know what I need to do to figure out the extent of the problem and to try out various management techniques, so I’ll use my adult skills to summarize what I’m doing and then share that summary with her, without inviting criticism or sharing much emotion.”

My parents are conservative, but I always expected them to respect my choices, so I didn’t hesitate to tell them that I’m gay and have a boyfriend I wanted to bring home for Thanksgiving. On some level, I probably wasn’t shocked that it stirred up a shit-storm, particularly with my mother, because I’ve always been angry about her inability to accept me for who I am, so I was looking for an excuse to explode and so, probably, was she. Now I wonder whether there’s any point in continuing a relationship with people who don’t accept me and are ashamed of who I am. My goal isn’t to continue the fight, it’s to figure out what’s the point.

Figuring out what to do when your parents can’t accept you (or vice versa) doesn’t have to be a complicated issue, as long as you accept the non-acceptance, especially if you have good reason to believe that acceptance isn’t likely to take place any time soon. In other words, you should first try being thoughtful and sympathetic and controlling your inner angry bulldozer.

When you know you’ve run through all available options, including (and not limited to) putting hard feelings to one side, pretending to agree with them about the Tea Party, and fully dancing like a trained monkey, then you know that the relationship is what it is and all that’s left is to figure out what do to with it.

Your feelings may tell you it’s always better to stay away since it’s always painful to be around non-accepting parents, but your love for your parents and family requires some level of polite involvement. Even if it needs to be time-limited and at a distance, time together is meaningful for family members who’ve shared a life together to watch out for one another and continue the sharing, even when it’s hard. Meaningfulness trumps pain, politics, and all other forms of bullshit.

It’s your call, however, but if you decide that future contact is worthwhile, decide on your own rules of engagement. Rule out meaningful discussion of grievances, feelings, or your right to acceptance. If they’re punishing you by being distant, don’t challenge their distance or show any need to get together, just offer a few friendly words in a way that doesn’t invite response but does show you’re open and not-reactive, and do so again from time to time. If they reach out to you, respond in a friendly fashion, but always with fewer words.

Your goal isn’t a happy relationship, which, sadly, is impossible. It’s to maintain a meaningful connection in spite of the pain, hurt, and disappointment. If you decide it’s worth it, then that’s how you do it, and then you can be proud, not just of who you love, but the kind of son you are.

STATEMENT:
“I will probably never get over the hurt of my parents’ rejection, but I doubt that they have a choice, and I will try to accept them as they could not accept me. I will do it, however, while protecting myself as much as possible.”