I am so very sorry that this is how the relationship with your therapist has ended. You mention feeling angry, hurt, confused, and even abandoned. Given the scenario you presented, I can certainly understand why you would feel these things.

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There is a phase of therapy called termination that happens as treatment is winding down. Termination serves as an opportunity to reflect on the work that has been done and the progress, growth, and change that has resulted. It is also a time for therapists and people in therapy to say goodbye to one another and process the end of the therapeutic relationship. The absence of this phase of treatment can absolutely leave you feeling a need for closure—especially because it was your therapist’s decision to end treatment so abruptly, not yours.

Despite your request for a final session, it sounds like you are not going to be able to engage in the termination process with your therapist. Letter writing can be a helpful tool when you have a lot of thoughts and feelings about a person and the person is not available to have a conversation. Perhaps you could write a letter to your former therapist telling her how you feel and asking the questions you are left pondering. You could even write a response to your letter in your former therapist’s voice. You could process this kind of letter-writing exercise with your current therapist in order to get the most out of it. It can be a surprisingly powerful exercise. Your new therapist may have some other helpful ideas, of course.

As far as your questions about ethics and potential recourse, it’s a little less straightforward than it may seem.

As far as your questions about ethics and potential recourse, it’s a little less straightforward than it may seem. According to the American Counseling Association’s Code of Ethics, there is a prohibition against abandonment and neglect: “Counselors do not abandon or neglect clients in counseling. Counselors assist in making appropriate arrangements for the continuation of treatment, when necessary, during interruptions such as vacations, illness, and following termination.” However, there is also a section of the code on impairment that states, “Counselors monitor themselves for signs of impairment from their own physical, mental, or emotional problems and refrain from offering or providing professional services when impaired.” It sounds like your former therapist has just gone through a lot—the death of a parent, returning to her home country, and then retirement. It does seem possible that she might feel too impaired to work.

At this point, it does not seem like you can count on any assistance from your previous therapist in coming to terms with the end of the relationship, but you do have a new therapist who can partner with you to gain the closure you seek. I hope that process brings you peace.

Sincerely,
Sarah

When I was a child, I heard a phrase that stuck in my memory: “You’re so impressionable.” I mulled over this phrase, trying to understand its meaning. One thing that was clear was that it was a criticism. It was wrong to be impressionable—to allow others to influence you, affect your behavior, change your mind. If you were deemed impressionable, it meant you were weak, you had no personality of your own, and you were easy prey for others to manipulate.

These seem like legitimate concerns. Clearly, there are dangers in being too impressionable, too easily swayed by others’ opinions or actions, and unable to choose for yourself. Heed the parental warning: “If everyone jumped off a cliff, would you jump, too?”

But we mustn’t throw the baby out with the bathwater. Just as every coin has two sides, so does being impressionable. There are positive attributes to being impressionable that should be encouraged. The ability to allow people, ideas, and experiences outside of ourselves to make an impression on us is also a gift and a skill.

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It’s a gift when a person can read an inspiring quote and become inspired. To be susceptible to the powers of a good movie or book to alter our perspectives on an issue, a person, or even ourselves is growth. Art has the power to alter our view of the world in very positive ways, if we allow it.

Being impressionable doesn’t only lead to changing our beliefs, but also to changing our behaviors. The truth is human beings were designed to be impressionable. We are supposed to pick up the clues, from our families and society, which show us how to behave so we’ll be safe and socially accepted. But why stop there?

Being impressionable doesn’t only lead to changing our beliefs, but also to changing our behaviors. The truth is human beings were designed to be impressionable. We are supposed to pick up the clues, from our families and society, which show us how to behave so we’ll be safe and socially accepted. But why stop there?

The world is full of people who have learned things we could all learn, enjoying things we could all enjoy, behaving in ways that would benefit us all. Whether it’s learning compassion from Mother Theresa or the joy of baking from Martha Stewart, the more we let others influence us, the fuller we get.

Years ago, I observed with awe as my friend Lorraine moved through a room full of strangers, greeting people warmly as if she were the host. It was amazing to see people respond to her, sometimes welcoming and sometimes dismissing, while she floated through the crowd unfazed by rejection, enjoying herself. This presented a new way of behaving for me. I usually just chatted with the one or two people I was with. I admired her freedom and playfulness. She took me for a lap around the room and I got to experience firsthand what it was like to be that friendly and engaging. Ever since I have attempted to incorporate her behavior into my own.

In therapy, I often see people who experience depression, anxiety, and low self-esteem. The scale of what is influencing them is imbalanced. Fear, self-criticism, and negative beliefs are being listened to as if they’re gospel. Positive beliefs, on the other hand, such as hope, love, and beauty, are banging on a locked, steel door, hoping to be let in. These people would benefit greatly from becoming more easily influenced by positive messages in their lives.

There is no denying that life can be difficult. In life, there is both pain and fear. But there is also no shortage of beauty and inspiration surrounding us. To become impressionable to beauty might allow the sunlight, caught in a raindrop on a leaf, to spread the warmth of happiness through your chest, like sipping a warm cup of tea. Hearing a beautiful piece of music might reignite your faith in humankind.

Those inspiring quotes on Hallmark cards, Facebook, or Pinterest might actually be speaking to you. And they just might serve you better than the fear and loathing in your head.

Living with anxiety can be exhausting, frustrating, and painful. Frequent anxiety symptoms may be robbing you of sleep, joy, and/or confidence. However, there is much you can learn and benefit from when it comes to understanding anxiety. In fact, anxiety works to your advantage in some significant ways. Identifying anxiety and exploring how you relate to it may help you uncover some of your most significant strengths and useful skills.

Here are seven ways anxiety can actually be a good thing:

1. Anxiety may make you smarter.

A person who tends to be anxious may also naturally be highly intelligent. Anxious people can be incredibly good researchers, critical thinkers, and analyzers. In addition to naturally tending toward higher-level intellectual processing, anxiety can also teach you to be smarter as you go through a process of learning more about it. Building a better understanding of your anxiety can help you learn to explore options consciously and problem solve calmly. That skill improves both your mental and emotional intelligence.

2. Anxiety is rooted in your need to protect yourself.

Fear is designed to keep you safe from danger. Anxiety is an adaptation of that vital and fundamental fear response. Sometimes anxiety will tell you that the worst is true (perhaps getting you to believe that everyone dislikes you or that someone is determined to harm you). However, paying attention to that uneasy feeling can help you stay connected to sense of self-preservation.

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You can think of anxiety as an annoying friend with good intentions. This may help you learn when to take back the control to stop anxiety from dictating many of your thoughts and actions. You may start to notice your anxiety response sooner, allowing you to make conscious decisions about whether there is danger and how to best take care of yourself.

3. Anxiety directs to you whatever needs your attention.

It can be healthy to temporarily distract yourself from anxiety to gain perspective, but if a thought or situation causes anxiety repeatedly, your mind and body are likely trying to tell you there is something needing to be addressed. It may also give you a sense of what you truly care about and want to take action on, even if it may be difficult to do so. Anxiety can direct you to see that something about a situation is too important to ignore. A therapist can help you learn how to give a situation attention without it needing to be anxious attention.

4. Anxiety directs you to finding your deepest core values.

Noticing what you fear is a gateway to discovering what you truly value. We feel a form of anxiety when we see someone being bullied or harmed. We feel anxiety when a person says something that seems dishonest. This response doesn’t have to mean we are predicting the worst possible outcome; it is a vital radar to show us what is right and wrong for us. To fully eliminate anxiety would be to eliminate discernment and self-awareness.

5. Anxiety can help you discover your fullest potential.

Many people who have a form of anxiety are chronic overachievers. Anxiety is often used as a tool to help you push yourself to your limit of achievement. The downside is that there are often negative meanings attached, such as not being good enough or not valuing rest. Often, anxious overachievers have difficulty saying no, trouble completing tasks to their liking or knowing which tasks to prioritize, and issues trusting or working with others.

Using anxiety as a means to “motivate” yourself can only work to a certain extent. Looking at the amount you accomplish even with the negative pressure of anxiety, imagine how much more you could do if you felt focused, calm, and fulfilled by the tasks you accomplish. Anxiety can give you that glimpse into what your body and mind are able to achieve, even under great pressure. You can achieve things with more focus and fulfillment by working with a therapist to let go of the negativity that anxiety can bring.

6. Anxiety provides the energy necessary for taking action.

For many people, anxiety doesn’t inspire over-achievement but instead a perceived inability to take action. Does anxiety ever leave you feeling paralyzed, unable to move forward? The good news is this stress response can work to your benefit.

Does anxiety ever leave you feeling paralyzed, unable to move forward? The good news is this stress response can work to your benefit.

The energy that fuels anxious thoughts and behaviors is giving you what you need to take action and get unstuck. By not taking action, the energy is just getting bottled up inside you with nowhere to go but in circles. A mind spinning in circles or a body that fidgets or panics is stifling the energy of anxiety. Taking action can channel and alleviate that pressure, and the stress response can help you have the energy to do that.

Especially for someone who struggles with depression in addition to anxiety, training the body and mind to take small actions using that energy can provide healing over time—for example, using that energy to take a walk outside or to start a conversation (rather than playing it out repeatedly in your mind).

7. Anxiety can teach you to find balance in life, whatever that may mean for you.

Practicing responding to anxiety in purposeful ways can guide a process of finding balance in every aspect of your life: work and play, social time and personal time, rest and activity, etc. Anxiety gives clues to wherever your world may be out of balance.

Taking charge of your relationship with anxiety may be the most rewarding thing you do for yourself. You can prove to yourself what you are capable of by learning to consciously respond to your anxiety rather than allowing it to control you. This process can help you develop incredible acceptance, confidence, and leadership abilities. Find a therapist to guide and support your efforts and accomplishments.

There are many different types of residential treatment centers (RTCs) that offer therapeutic care for a wide variety of behavioral and mental health issues. Choosing a center that is suited to your personal needs is important; however, with many options available, making a decision may be difficult. How can you decide which RTC is right for you? Consider these answers to ten frequently asked questions about RTCs, as well as insight from Darren Haber, MA, MFT, an expert on addictions and compulsions.

1. What is a residential treatment center?

A residential treatment center is a health care facility that helps people experiencing various substance dependency and behavioral issues. For some inpatient treatments, residents may be required to live at the facility for a period of time. Some facilities also offer outpatient treatment to help former residents avoid relapse and to provide options for people who cannot commit to living at the facility temporarily. In most cases, treatment lasts for one to three months.

“[The] average stays tend to be 30 days, but some stay longer, and some shorter. Thirty days seems to be the industry norm,” Haber said.

2. What are the most important things to look for in an RTC?

Check and confirm that the RTC and any programs you wish to attend are accredited and the treatment programs are being administered by licensed, qualified mental health professionals. Ask if the program has a clinical director and about his or her credentials. Learn as much as you can about the treatment center you’re considering through third parties such as the Better Business Bureau, online reviews, and any local consumer protection agencies. If you need it, ensure that an active aftercare program is in place to help prevent relapse.

3. What type of issues do residential treatment centers treat?

Because different RTCs specialize in treating different health issues, the structure, routines, and therapeutic methods used will vary from facility to facility. Some centers take a “lock-down” approach where residents are secured within the facility’s premises and their movements inside the center are restricted. Other RTCs may take an unlocked approach and allow residents to traverse the premises with some degree of freedom; however, residents may only be permitted to leave the center if certain conditions are met.

In recent years, the residential treatment field has expanded. At some centers, everything from substance abuse to sex addiction to codependence may be treated. There are also centers that focus solely on substance abuse or eating disorders, for example.

Issues treated at an RTC may include:

• [rtc_widget_right]Drug dependency
• Alcohol dependency
• Eating disorders
• Sexual addiction
• Bipolar
• Depression
• Posttraumatic stress
• Personality issues
• Anxiety

It should be noted, too, that some RTCs specializing in mental health treatment may not provide therapeutic care for substance dependency issues.

4. Why do people go to residential treatment centers?

“Usually because their condition or problem has reached the point where it needs containment—that is, 24-hour medical or psychological monitoring due to harmful behaviors or medical problems—and has become so acute that it requires an acute, sustained focus,” Haber said.

5. What kinds of services are provided by RTCs?

Residential treatment centers offer a variety of services, which may include 24-hour supervision, intensive recovery programs, individual counseling, group counseling, structured activities, educational services, social skills training, vocational training, and relapse prevention services.

6. What are the benefits of a RTC over other forms of treatment?

The environment in a residential treatment center is usually more comfortable than the sterile, functional setting of a hospital. The residents are able to focus solely on their healing and recovery programs as they are removed from the stresses of daily life.

Some treatments, such as chemical detoxification, may be life threatening. For those cases, RTCs provide trained medical personal to keep residents safe during such treatments. Residents also have the opportunity to explore the emotional and psychological underpinnings for their behaviors in counseling sessions with a qualified mental health professional.

“Some people also go for legal reasons, such as being ordered by a judge after a DUI or DWI, for example. Usually one goes to an RTC because living life day-to-day has become unmanageable or to the point where one’s well-being, job, or close relationships are threatened,” Haber said.

7. What is the experience of being a resident at a residential treatment center like?

“It’s really what the client or patient makes of it. Anyone who participates to the best of his or her ability can potentially gain much and grow and learn tools for lifelong use. If one has been forced in by family but doesn’t believe, for instance, that one truly has an issue with alcohol or addiction, it can feel almost like jail,” Haber said.

8. How can families or friends keep in touch with residents?

“It depends on the policy of the residential treatment center. Some encourage family contact and some don’t. Some RTCs prefer those in treatment wait until their detox is over, or that the person in treatment only meet family members with counselors present. I believe this is a crucial part of treatment that can easily be overlooked, since dysfunctional family systems often play a crucial role in the formation of the illness or addiction,” Haber said.

9. Are there any RTCs in my area?

With the number of treatment facilities currently providing care across the country, chances are there is a residential treatment center nearby. However, it is important to remember that your chances of recovery may be better if the chosen facility is well suited to your personal preferences and specific health condition.

10. How much does treatment at a residential treatment center cost?

“Some people also go for legal reasons, such as being ordered by a judge after a DUI or DWI, for example. Usually one goes to an RTC because living life day-to-day has become unmanageable or to the point where one’s well-being, job, or close relationships are threatened.”The cost of treatment at a residential treatment center will vary based on the condition being treated, services provided, length of treatment, and the location of the center. For example, The Betty Ford Center, one of the most well-known rehab programs, charges approximately $1,217 per day for inpatient alcohol addiction treatment at their Rancho Mirage, CA location. Other locations may charge more or less, and some may not offer a per-day rate. Most locations develop a program based on a person’s individual needs, which can drastically affect the cost depending on medication or other requirements.

Some facilities may be able to offer a sliding fee based on a person’s income, while some may be low or no cost. Others may offer luxurious settings and amenities. The types and costs of RTCs simply vary. If your personal health insurance covers residential care, even the more costly facilities may become affordable. Call your insurance company for more information regarding your covered benefits if you are in need of inpatient treatment.

References:

1. The Addiction Recovery Guide. (2015). Drug and alcohol addiction recovery. Retrieved from http://www.addictionrecoveryguide.org/treatment/residential
2. The American Residential Treatment Association. (n.d.). Types of programs. Retrieved from http://artausa.org/type_programs.html
3. Federal Trade Commission. (n.d.) Residential treatment programs for teens. Retrieved from http://www.consumer.ftc.gov/articles/0185-residential-treatment-programs-teens
4. Hazelden Betty Ford Foundation. (n.d.) Addiction treatment specialties. Retrieved from http://www.hazeldenbettyford.org/treatment/locations/betty-ford-center-rancho-mirage
5. Mental Health America. (n.d.). In patient care. Retrieved from http://www.mentalhealthamerica.net/patient-care
6. National Institute on Drug Abuse. (n.d.) Principles of drug addiction treatment: a research based guide. Retrieved from http://www.consumer.ftc.gov/articles/0185-residential-treatment-programs-teens
7. Smith, M., & Segal, J. (2015). Choosing a drug treatment program: What to look for in substance abuse rehab. Retrieved from http://www.helpguide.org/articles/addiction/choosing-a-drug-treatment-program.htm

There is no question that inheritance bequests can create significant tension and strife in families. Often, one or more of the surviving relatives feels slighted and unfairly treated. The only person, however, who has the right to decide how to leave their estate is the person creating the will.

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Your mother may have some very clear reasons for allocating her estate the way she has. Of course it doesn’t feel fair to you—but what’s fair isn’t always right, and what’s right isn’t always fair. It may be that your mother feels that her son who stayed close and helps her out (as minimally as it may seem to you) is entitled to more of the estate. It may be that she is concerned about his ability to thrive after she is gone and is trying to make sure he is taken care of. (If this is the case, it may be that she has confidence you’ll be just fine—though I’m sure that would feel like small consolation.) It may be something else completely, but she has her reasons for making the choices she made.

You can allow resentment to poison your relationship with your brother and your mom, or you can let it go.

The choice you are left with, then, is how to respond. You can allow resentment to poison your relationship with your brother and your mom, or you can let it go. When you tried to talk with your mother, did you focus on how these choices made you feel, or did you come from the perspective of right/wrong and fair/unfair?

If you focus on how wrong or unfair her choice seems, you may be met with defensiveness and entrenchment. If you start from a place of accepting that it is her right to make these choices, but that you find her choices hurtful, you may be able to come to a better understanding. She might be able to explain her thinking in a way that makes sense to you, and she might be able to hear and respond to your pain—but not if she has to defend the “rightness” of her choices.

However you choose to approach this, I strongly recommend that you find a way to make peace with your mother before she dies. That might mean seeking personal counseling for yourself to let go of anger and resentment, or perhaps family counseling with your mother and possibly your brother. You have the opportunity to address these issues while she is here to respond. All too often, resentments are left to fester until it is too late to heal the rifts.

Best of luck,
Erika

While new parents frequently seek the “right way” to parent, there is no one rule book. Rather, there are many, often contradictory, guides to parenting. The lack of certainty about how to raise and care for a child can create intense anxiety for a new parent. Some learn, soon enough, that they will figure out how to be good enough parents. Others never lose an overwhelming anxiety that each decision could have life-or-death consequences. The communication of high levels of parental anxiety frequently results in children whose anxiety controls, limits, and shapes their relationships to the world.

Anxiety is an internal state that is communicated in a variety of ways. The anxious mother holding her baby can unconsciously communicate her inner agitation through her body tension and facial expressions. The young child may sense a parent’s anxiety in the parent’s frantic behavior or speech.

Eventually the child becomes old enough to be the recipient of clear expressions of anxiety in the parent’s verbal communications. The child can experience the parent’s anxiety when told, “No, honey, you’re not old enough for play dates,” or, “I don’t care if your friends can stay out until 9. It’s not safe out there,” or in the parent’s intake of anxious breath every time the child goes down the slide or falls and bruises a knee.

Repeated exposure to parental expressions of anxiety teaches children to expect that they will be vulnerable in a risky world. These lessons are not simply intellectual. They are emotional communications which often have an unconscious component: the lesson to be learned is transmitted and received unconsciously. It is a very powerful communication.

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The Inability to Self-Soothe

When parental anxiety is communicated, consciously or unconsciously, the child’s defenses are put on high alert. If parents are overwhelmed by their own anxieties and can’t soothe themselves, it can be difficult to calm and reassure their children. Without an experience of being calmed as infants, children may not develop an ability to self-soothe. They may develop anxiety, which paradoxically functions as a signal that they are in protective mode. It’s as if the anxiety is evidence of vigilance toward pending danger and thus has a calming influence.

It would be risky to let go of this essential feeling by using rational thoughts to challenge the basis of the anxiety. Instead, anxiety can be put on temporary hold with behavioral distractions that anesthetize against anxiety but don’t alleviate the feelings.

The Intergenerational Transmission of Anxiety

Kate initially came to see me two years ago because she was unhappy with her work life. She is a painter with a master’s degree in fine arts working as an administrator in an art gallery. She was doing little painting, hated her work, and felt clueless about what she wanted to do with herself professionally. She was married with a 17-year-old daughter.

Through our work, we learned about Kate’s lack of belief in her ability to be a good painter and her intense anxiety about showing her work publicly. She described a history of feeling tortured when she painted and had anxiety attacks when she had to submit work to her professors. She acknowledged that even though she won several prizes for her art and was considered very talented by the faculty, “Putting my work out there feels like I’m walking naked in the streets where everyone can see my private parts.” She never was able to initiate the showing of her work and became filled with dread the few times she was persuaded to allow her work to be seen in public.

Talking in therapy helped Kate to paint more at her small studio at home. She began to allow herself to enjoy the experience after she learned to slow down her anxious feelings and use her thoughts to calm herself. But she was clear that she thought it best to leave painting to her personal enjoyment and figure out what else she could do with her life. As we began to look further at Kate’s history, her narrative revealed her to be a person with intense anxiety about almost everything in her life:

“I’ve always had terrible separation anxiety. I went away to college, but it was less than two hours from home. I drank a lot and smoked pot from late middle school until midway through college. I over-ate, I still do. I know I’ve used these things to get rid of my feelings. I think when I started to paint and could get into a kind of Zen place and not worry about any audience, it calmed me down. That’s what probably helped with my drinking and pot smoking. But as soon as my painting was up for judgment, I would freak out. Sometimes I would skip classes or feel sick and go home for days.”

I asked how her parents dealt with her anxiety and her homecoming. Laughing ruefully, she told me, “They didn’t have a clue what to do. I made them, especially my mother, very anxious. She always seemed so agitated when I was conflicted and anxious. It was as if she didn’t want to address my issues because she didn’t know what to do, and that made her a ball of anxiety. I would feel so helpless and angry, and I think she did, too. I soon learned not to come home when I was upset. That only made things worse.”

Then Kate went silent and became tearful. I waited as she slowly began to speak. “You know, I’ve talked mostly about me and my work life in my therapy with you,” she said. “I know that my anxious mother is not news to either of us and how much that has influenced me. But I’ve been ashamed to bring up the fact I’m just like her. My daughter Erica just turned 19. She’s finishing her freshman year in college …”

Repeated exposure to parental expressions of anxiety teaches the child to expect that he or she will be vulnerable in a risky world. These lessons are not simply intellectual. They are emotional communications which often have an unconscious component: the lesson to be learned is transmitted and received unconsciously. It is a very powerful communication.

Kate paused, then started to sob and shake. “I see what’s happening,” she said. “Erica is just like me—a ball of anxiety. She calls home a lot to talk to me, not her father. I know she can feel how anxious I am about her being away at school. I don’t know if she’s calling to reassure me that she’s OK or to check in to see if I’m OK. … I’m an awful mother. I know I don’t help her and only make her more anxious. The problem is I really am scared for her. I didn’t give her the tools to take care of her feelings. Like me, she doesn’t know how to use her thoughts to find ways to counteract her anxious feelings. Worse is when she tells me her anxious feelings, I feel like the best I can do is not share my anxious feelings with her. I feel totally at a loss to offer any useful, thoughtful, soothing response.”

I was familiar with the phenomenon Kate was describing: the intergenerational transmission of anxiety. Like her mother and now her daughter, Kate’s anxiety always lurks at the edge of her emotional life. It is on call to alert her to danger and can be summoned consciously and unconsciously to send out the signal to a loved one that he or she, too, must be vigilant. What else can a good mother do? How can she not warn her child of impending danger? Kate’s mother couldn’t contain her dread and needed Kate to feel it so she could become part of the team to defend against harm. Kate needed to be sure that Erica would be able to function in the world and protect herself from all the dreadful possibilities she was at risk of encountering. While often unconscious, it is a relief for an anxious mother to know that her child is on alert and aware of the many possible threats to her well-being.

Unlike her mother, Kate had become aware of the disadvantages of being unable to manage anxiety. Her recognition that Erica’s anxiety was intensified in the presence of her own strongly contributed to her wish to disrupt this harmful intergenerational cycle. Talking with me helped her use the rational thought that “if I soothe myself and lessen my own anxiety, I will be better able to help Erica with hers.” She was determined not to perpetuate the cycle of anxiety.

Kate has begun to talk with Erica about what she has learned about the intergenerational transmission of anxiety. They have had some honest and painful discussions about the ways they each make the other anxious and have needed the other to mirror their anxiety so they could feel better. Erica has decided to begin her own therapy, and Kate continues to work with me on becoming more comfortable with all her feelings and the feelings she evokes in others. She is slowly developing a greater tolerance for her negative feelings and the negative responses she has been protecting herself from for so many years. When she experiences the anxieties of her mother and daughter, she has started to think thoughts that help her to remind herself that she is a separate person with her own feelings. She can say to herself, “I’m not the same as you. I see you are anxious and scared, but I don’t have to be. These anxieties are not rational, and I don’t have to be in that irrational-feeling space.”

This is hard work for Kate, but the strong wish for her daughter to be free from the same anxiety that has debilitated her is strong motivation for Kate to continue her struggle for change.

Note: To protect privacy, names in the preceding article have been changed and the dialogues described are a composite.

I used to have this goal for my life in which I would eventually get to a place where I loved school or my job so much that I didn’t desperately hope for a snow day during the long winter months. In the past, I would obsessively check the weather forecasts looking for signs of enough snow that school or work would be called off. I had difficulty sleeping the evening before a forecast indicating such a possibility. I would get up and look out the window throughout the night to check if the pace of accumulation was quick enough to cause administrators to foresee a “snowpocalypse,” make the right call, and cancel all school and work activities. My emotions felt as if they were at the mercy of the snow, which is indeed an unreasonable thing to allow oneself to be controlled by. Did I just hate school or work that much, or was there something less dramatic and more innocent going on?

Often, a snow day is a child’s dream come true. Depending on where you are in the world, it may be quite common, or it’s possible you’ve never even heard of a snow day if you live in a climate that is warm and mild. I grew up in Texas, where, unprepared for winter weather, school was called off for a bit of frost on the ground. When that happened, I’d spend my day in the front yard trying to scoop up ice particles from the driveway to make the world’s tiniest snowman (which was usually an epic fail). In much of the country, snow is commonplace during winter and schools build snow days into their calendars to account for bad weather or unsafe travel conditions.

[fat_widget_right]For those who live in states where snow is relatively common, does anyone other than me still experience the frenzied excitement of snow and, with it, the possibility of playing hooky?

I’m guessing I’m not alone here. Snow days are interruptions to our routines, which may be a rare occurrence for some. Although some may not appreciate the disruption, for many of us, the monotony of responsibilities, the “to-do” lists that never get done, the expectation that work comes first, and the pressure of being “on” at all times leaves us desperate for an unexpected reason to let it go. We go to work sick, or we stay up too late getting ahead on projects because our workloads exceed the 40 allotted hours. If we are sick and manage to stay home, we work from home because technology says we can.

Snow days provide a great opportunity for a break because we can’t control Mother Nature. It isn’t our failing immune system (somehow our fault) or the failing immune systems of our families. It isn’t our lack of being a “team player.” It isn’t a situation in which our colleagues question whether we drank too much last night and that’s the real reason we can’t come to work. We have something tangible that everyone can bear witness to. When a snow day is called, the city is frozen and we all know it. No one can reasonably leave home without significant risk, and it isn’t our fault.

We look forward to days like this because we need them. We need moments in which we aren’t in charge. We need moments where we can let go and allow something larger than ourselves to give us a break. As a population, we don’t do this enough. We work longer and longer hours, we multitask ourselves into the ground, we do chores on our days off, we engage in endless errands to help make our lives run more smoothly, and we make appointment after appointment after appointment.

We need moments where we can let go and allow something larger than ourselves to give us a break. As a population, we don’t do this enough. We work longer and longer hours, we multitask ourselves into the ground, we do chores on our days off, we engage in endless errands to help make our lives run more smoothly, and we make appointment after appointment after appointment.It can be difficult to take a break and do nothing, which is often forced when a snow day occurs. We may be sick from stress, but it doesn’t often make us quit doing. We may be exhausted and disconnected from those we love due to the demands of our busy schedules, but we may perceive that the world would fall apart if we don’t keep going. On the other hand, a snow day cannot be negotiated with. The blanket of white quiets the world and says, “Stop!” We can’t get out of the house to run errands, so we cook what we have in the cupboard, play board games if the cable goes out, and sleep when we’re tired. We are often forced to just relax.

If you’re like me, peeking out the window all night and imploring the sky to save you from your busy schedule tomorrow, maybe it isn’t so much that you’re being silly or that you hate your job or hate school or you can’t get a grip on your emotions. It could just be your body and mind telling you that you need a break. I don’t necessarily want to get to a place in my life where I don’t long for breaks in the form of an unexpected snow day. Days like that help us remain grounded, healthy, and sharp. We need days where we can relax, even if we’re forced, and allow the world to run without us. We need moments that allow us to reconnect with the feeling of quiet contentment and recognize that what we have around us in this moment is enough for this moment. It isn’t likely that everything will fall apart in our absence, but perhaps more likely that everything may fall back into place.

Let it snow.

College students whose parents attempt to control them through guilt, shame, or manipulation may cope with their stress by being mean to their peers, according to a study published in the Journal of Youth and Adolescence.

How Controlling Parenting Contributes to Problematic Behavior

Jamie Abaied, a University of Vermont assistant professor of psychological science, and her colleagues recruited 180 college students, most of whom were female. College students are often still financially or emotionally dependent upon their parents, the researchers say, so parenting style can continue to influence them even when they reach legal adulthood.

Each student completed a questionnaire about their parents’ behavior. Parents who engaged in behavior such as withdrawing money or criticizing their children were deemed highly controlling. The use of digital technologies such as texting and social media may further controlling behavior because it allows parents and their children to stay in constant contact. Thus parents no longer need to see or live with their children to manipulate their behavior.

[fat_widget_right]Researchers also interviewed the students, inquiring about painful interactions with loved ones such as boyfriends or girlfriends. As the students discussed the event, researchers recorded their sweat levels as a way to measure emotional distress. Students with higher levels of stress were more likely to react in aggressive or impulsive ways, such as sending a mean-spirited text or email.

Students who displayed higher levels of aggression were more likely to have controlling parents. The connection between relational aggression and controlling parenting has already been demonstrated in younger children, but this study is one of the first to look at controlling parenting in adult children.

In 2015, another study found children of less controlling and warmer parents were happier.

Reference:

Shapiro, C. (2016, January 20). Study: What happens when controlling parents follow kids to college. Retrieved from http://www.uvm.edu/~uvmpr/?Page=news&storyID=22157&category=ucommfeature

Children with disabilities bring a unique set of challenges, and opportunities, to their families. Depending on the nature of the disability, the challenges can be quite significant. At the same time, though, they have the potential to deepen connection between parents as well as the parent-child bond.

Aside from the energy required to manage a child’s physical and emotional needs, there are often huge financial considerations. A child’s disability may require the family to retrofit their home, or obtain housing that is accessible. In addition, equipment, social services, and health care are often pricey and are not always covered by insurance or entitlement programs. Families able to get some or all of these expenses covered often have to advocate for them on their own, and navigating disorganized government programs associated with these benefits can be an extremely taxing process in its own right.

Because it can be quite time consuming to address these issues, many families are forced to give up large portions of their leisure time. Often, one parent takes on a primary caretaking role with the child, while the other parent becomes the primary provider, deeply involved in his or her work in order to help with the finances. Primary caretakers sometimes have to partially or completely forgo any job aspirations of their own.

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If these decisions are not talked about and processed carefully, they can lead to divisions within the family that may become deeply entrenched and long-lasting. Caretakers may feel as if they do an unfair amount of the work for the child, and may feel resentful about having to sacrifice their careers. Providers, meanwhile, may feel isolated within their families, as though everyone is against them, and may come to perceive the bond between the caretaking parent and the child as impenetrable.

The Importance of Communication

To help with this, I suggest that parents openly discuss how caretaking responsibilities are divided. Are there ways to make these responsibilities more evenly managed? What types of feelings does each person have about it? These are important considerations that should be discussed regularly.

Another consideration for parents is the emotional impact of having a child with a disability. Parents sometimes have to adjust their expectations regarding what their child can become, which is frequently experienced as loss and may be accompanied by a mourning process. The process of adjusting expectations to conform to the reality of the circumstances can be challenging and varied depending on the nature of the disability.

Regardless of the specific disability, the family has to come to accept that the child’s life may be limited in some way, and that additional care may be needed for the remainder of the child’s life. This process can be a loaded one and has potential to drive parents apart.

In general, the more ambiguity in the disability, the more difficult it is for the family to adjust. Degenerative diseases, which are less understood than more standard physical disabilities, can be among the most difficult to adjust to. The lack of information about how quickly the disease will develop and impact the child’s life can create enormous anxiety and stress. Cognitive disorders such as mental retardation are also difficult in that parents often cannot tell how much information their children take in.

Regardless of the specific disability, the family has to come to accept that the child’s life may be limited in some way, and that additional care may be needed for the remainder of the child’s life. This process can be a loaded one and has potential to drive parents apart. I suggest that couples set time aside regularly to discuss their feelings about their child’s disability, either in counseling or on their own.

Much is made of accomplishments in Western society, and children are too often measured by what they do instead of who they are. If couples keep an open line of communication and feelings regarding the challenges they face, the experience of parenting a child with a disability can bring them closer together and help them learn to accept and love their child for who they are.

References:

1. Boyse, K. (2009). Siblings of Kids with Special Needs. Retrieved from http://www.med.umich.edu/yourchild/topics/specneed.htm
2. Reichman, N., Corman, H., & Noonan, K. (2008). The Impact of Child Disability on the Family. Retrieved from http://www.medscape.com/viewarticle/581577_2
3. Solomon, A. (2013). Far From the Tree. New York, NY: Scribner.

Editor’s note: This article represents the second of two parts. The first part moves from disconnection to autopilot, then from autopilot to self-awareness.

“Until you make the unconscious conscious, it will direct your life and you will call it fate.” —Carl Jung

Complex trauma represents an expected response to ongoing and extreme interpersonal threats, revealing in its process the capacity of a core “Self” to preserve what matters most, even when it means separating from it. Part I of this article framed multiple selves as a natural adaptation to systems in which we must “fit” by placing parts of Self in storage, giving examples of potential self-containment strategies. Part II now moves toward reintegration of what was necessarily preserved while navigating the tunnel of childhood.

From Awareness to Attuned Self-Compassion

After years of automated disconnection and internal judgment, integration is often felt as an awakening, a softening toward what was once perceived as an enemy, a protective hesitance becoming a grateful encompassing. It is felt most profoundly in the surprising arrival of ownership and empathy for Self. The epiphany, or “aha” moment: a recognition that “I am not this intense emotion, nor the judgment of it.” It’s the point at which we realize this “part in exile” has been trying to get our attention, to elicit from us a response it never got from our caregivers. This gives us a chance to feel what it felt, to finally see it, to stop containing it as something evil and instead embrace it and feel with it.

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Likewise, the containing part ceases to be perceived as a bully when we realize it has been protecting us all these years, that some part of us believed our core to be so valuable and worthy of protection and preservation. It’s a simple moment of self-compassion (often with a response felt physically), telling Self: “Yes, this did happen. This present feeling is how you felt for so long. I feel it in my body. I get it. You did not deserve this pain nor create it, and I will not punish you or leave you.”

After years of automated disconnection and internal judgment, integration is often felt as an awakening, a softening toward what was once perceived as an enemy, a protective hesitance becoming a grateful encompassing.

“I am too much for others” becomes, for instance, “I have been judging myself as too much in order to contain myself and avoid re-creating the feeling of distance I felt from my father.”

One might realize: “I am afraid of others because I fear myself.” Or: “I depend on others because I have abandoned myself.” Or: “My emotions grow and overwhelm precisely because I try to diminish and dismiss them.”

In the experience of abuse and neglect, these are the missing ingredients: attunement and compassion, allowing a moment of empathy for that contained part, that child who was hurt, who reacted the only way a child could. And a recognition in that moment of empathy: “All of this pain is also me, and everything that matters most in me has been preserved.”

From Compassion to Integration

Healing comes through integration, balancing of extremes, an olive branch offered between “enemies,” an internal dialogue of acceptance and compassion. It requires access to some part of Self that can simply observe—some witness able to watch our thoughts and emotions without landing in them, without becoming them. (This is where mindfulness comes in.)

When we know each part—when we can observe without judgment and treat it with compassion—it has no reason to polarize or amplify. It calms and centers. It synchronizes. It trusts our own core.

Many people, when imagining some part of Self as a child outside of their body—experiencing that child’s life, feeling their feelings—notice an internal stirring, even a release, recognizing that as they are empathizing and speaking compassionately to a child outside of Self, they are also landing in their own child part, hearing their own words of compassion, and feeling accepted.

This internal love—acceptance and appreciation without judgment—changes the entire experience of living.

Intentional self-compassion offers release from all these arbitrary rules we’ve carried. It’s a chance to experience both freedom and connection simultaneously, internally, knowing that as we navigate the countless systems of the world, external integration echoes internal.

One of my favorite writers, fellow social worker Brené Brown, has dedicated years researching vulnerability and all those other seemingly ugly things—such as shame and fear—that get in our way of becoming our best selves. Vulnerability, in particular, gets a bad rap. Although it seems unappealing at best and hurts like hell at worst, vulnerability is a prerequisite when it comes to living a life of authenticity and intimacy.

As a writer, I often put myself “out there” at the risk of being rejected, criticized, and judged. (Surprise—three of my least favorite things!) As a therapist, I ask the people I work with in the therapy room to do the same—that is, if their goal is to create deeper intimacy in their lives. Brown’s work has forced me to turn the mirror on myself and find out how shame and the fear of being vulnerable are holding me back from being the best writer (and therapist, friend, sister, partner, etc.) I can be.

It’s important to note the difference between guilt, the feeling of regret for one’s actions, and its more pervasive counterpart, shame, the feeling that we, at our core, are not good enough, inadequate, less than, and undeserving.

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In her book Daring Greatly, Brown speaks of the little “gremlins,” or the negative messages we give ourselves (often external sources internalized), and how, in a twist of self-fulfilling fate, those negative gremlins sometimes end up showing up all around us. For example, the old friend you made back when you were in a dark place (when you could keep each other’s misery company) who expects you to be the same you and attacks you when you’re not. (Tip: It may be time to de-friend that friend.) Or the colleague who resents your achievements and thus feels the need to put you down to lift himself or herself up. (Reminder: It’s not you, it’s him/her!) And, finally, one of the worst creations to have come from modern technology—so-called Internet trolls. (What less courageous way to express yourself than to anonymously and publicly bully/shame someone brave enough to put themselves out there?)

The title of Brown’s book is inspired from Theodore Roosevelt’s “Citizenship in a Republic” speech, in which he states: “It’s not the critic who counts. … The credit belongs to the man who is actually in the arena, who if he fails, at least fails while daring greatly.” If you are going to criticize someone’s work or behavior, Brown suggests, you’d better be in the arena, bloody and sweaty and fighting right along with that person.

What sadder outcome than the shutting down of a voice that could possibly add something to the world, if only simply touching one life for the better?

I’d like to add that if you feel the need to criticize, do so openly and with respect. Or better yet, as my mother used to say, if you don’t have anything nice to say, don’t say anything at all.

What sadder outcome than the shutting down of a voice that could possibly add something to the world, if only simply touching one life for the better? How many voices and gifts would we have missed out on if those who were brave enough to dare allowed the naysayers to shut them down?

I speak to myself as I struggle to allow myself to even write this piece as, you can be sure, my own gremlins are hard at work. But, like Brown, I will walk the walk and put my words into the ether regardless of how vulnerable it may make me. Because ultimately, I do aspire to a life lived with authenticity and intimacy—no matter how much it may hurt. The alternative is just not an option. So, bring it on.

I dare and encourage you to do the same.

What are some things that shame and fear are preventing you from achieving?

Your very sad story is touching. You’re worried that you’ve wasted four years of your life and clearly miss the man who was your partner, and you long for the good times you spent together. Nevertheless, your memories of the good are almost buried in your regret. I’m glad you’re seeing a therapist to help yourself grow and develop and learn how to hold onto the good, so you can learn to care for yourself and how to take care of yourself, too, and become a better partner. It’s apparent to me that you have accepted responsibility for your role in the way things ended, and that shows growth.

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Part of human development is learning to accept yourself and your actions, your history, and use it as a springboard to move forward in your life. As your therapist says, forgiving yourself is essential. Once you do that, it’s time to shut the door on it. You cannot return to your past.

Clinging to the past and especially to regrets about your behavior may feel unconsciously like a way to cling to the person who was once your partner, but in fact it’s only a memory you’re attached to.

You seem preoccupied with thoughts about how your partner thinks of you now. You’re worried that the bad times will outweigh the good ones, and the good will be forgotten. This may or not be so for him—we don’t really know that—but what we can be sure about is what your feelings are. You can remember the good and the bad that you both experienced, forgive yourself, forgive your partner, and move on. The best testament to the good times you enjoyed in your relationship is the ability to hold onto the good and go forward with your life. The past has a vote, not a veto. It can vote to show you better paths in the future, but it cannot have veto power over the rest of your life.

After some time of healing and mourning, I hope you will be ready to move on and use all you have learned to forge a new relationship filled with compassion and love for yourself and the person who becomes your next partner, if and when you choose to pursue another relationship.

Clinging to the past and especially to regrets about your behavior may feel unconsciously like a way to cling to the person who was once your partner, but in fact it’s only a memory you’re attached to. The person has gone away, and you deserve something real, solid, and present.

I wish you patience and success as you continue your journey with your therapist.

Take care,
Lynn