The Shame Game (Or, How I'm Starting to Understand the Root Problem of my Problems)

Last night, I had a shame attack. This post isn’t about the attack itself, but about how important it is for me to finally have the words to name it (thank you again, Brene Brown). It’s clear to me now that I’ve had frequent shame attacks throughout my life (I wonder if I am particularly prone to them or if most people have this many?) but, before now, I didn’t know what to call the experiences and I didn’t know what common thread was connecting them. I did know that even mildly humiliating experiences (e.g. losing control of my Primary class, oversharing at a social event) would often trigger memories of much deeper pains and humiliations (e.g. being berated at work, walking in late to an important meeting). Turns out, the common thread was shame. It has always been shame. And when I’d feel shame, past experiences of shame would rise to the surface, as if to validate the shame and the pain that I was feeling now.

For me, the experience of a shame attack is a lot like a panic attack; I’m paralyzed with anxiety and it's very physical (trembling, rapid breath, etc.). I think the main difference for me is in what drives the attack. With panic attacks, the driving force is an unspecified threat or the fear of all the things that could go wrong; with shame attacks, the driving fear is that I am wrong. Fundamentally flawed. Doomed to fail again and again. And that I will never be enough, no matter how hard I try. It feels like being two inches tall. It feels like drowning. And it is deeply frightening and intensely discouraging.

Interestingly, the thing that triggers the shame attack for me is generally not the thing that is actually driving the attack. For instance, last night, the trigger was being late to a photo shoot and fearing that I wouldn’t get the pictures I’d been hoping for as a result. A failed photo shoot is not a big deal. But interpreting the experience as “the proof” that I am failing as a parent…that’s a much bigger deal (i.e. If I can’t even get my ragamuffin-looking children to look presentable on time when it really counts, if I can’t even get some pictures to capture how special my children are at these ages…Well then, what does that say about me as a parent?) After an hour of crying and working through some of the anger (Dave and I had been fighting too), I started being honest with myself about the true source of my problem or the reason why I was feeling so vulnerable about my parenting (I mean, I’m always feeling vulnerable about my parenting, but even more so lately). It’s simple. I am struggling, especially with Junie. And I feel ashamed about it.

Before our trip to Utah/Idaho at the end of February, it felt like we were in a golden stage where Junie was concerned; she happily followed Peter around the house, filling up the toy shopping cart or going along with whatever game he came up with. She was snugly, napping well, thriving, and talking more every day. I’m so thankful to say that she still is doing all of those things; however, whether it was an independence surge that corresponded perfectly with her second birthday or the fact that she learned how to climb out of her crib and the sleep deprivation that followed, she's been doing more hair-pulling, pushing, "chucking," and tantrum-throwing than ever. I don’t think I’m doing a very good job at teaching her how to deal with her ever-intensifying emotions. I’m yelling at her on a daily basis. I’m scared that she is going to become the “bully” of her preschool class this Fall. So, that’s the situation that I need to deal with, and I need to try to deal with it joyfully and lovingly and courageously because she is so dang cute and sweet (even when she’s furious) and she is growing oh-too fast. But my shame is getting in the way.

When it comes to how to deal with the shame though (or how to become “shame resilient” as Brene Brown would say) I don’t have much to offer. I don’t know what I am doing. But I’m guessing that being able to honestly label the problem is a good place to start. I’m “in a shame attack”; the attack isn’t me. I am making mistakes, but I am not the mistakes; I am learning from them even though I will probably repeat them. I know this kind of self-talk will help. I know prayer will help. I know that I need to try to give myself breaks to read, walk, exercise or to write. Beyond that, a big challenge is going to be staying engaged with my kids instead of turning to the type of escape/numbing behaviors that I've been doing a lot of lately (e.g. making David put Junie to bed every night, stuffing my mouth with chocolate every time the kids aren’t looking, staying up late watching movies).

Interestingly, I’m also not going to discount the power of music. Last week when I felt myself spiraling into a shame cycle (I’d been yelling at the kids all morning) I put on Joe Pug’s latest album, Windfall, and it totally pulled me out of it. For real it did. Here's a line from one of the songs: "Don't back down yet/It'll get brighter/Stand your ground like a veteran fighter/Grip that wheel just a little bit tighter now." So music helps. That’s at least one specific suggestion that I can take with me on this road away from shame and toward self-love and “wholeheartedness”; because I don’t have many other ideas. At least not yet I don't. But I will.