11: embracing the bad feelings 🐍
leaning in to them, drowning in them, rejecting the binary of bad/good altogether (february 2021)
Iteration #11 of this monthly letter full of feelings.
This issue's theme is: ✿ leaning in to ~bad~ feelings ✿
I've been circling around this idea of recognizing & allowing my ~bad feelings~ to exist. But not just exist, to like... swim in them, you know? To be able to open myself up to them completely and really feel them. What happens when we lean in to the bad, whatever bad means?
What do you think of when you hear "bad?" Do you think of a ✕ bad gal ✕ that doesn't take any shit? Cue "Rebel Girl" by Bikini Kill. That's like the ~cool bad~ the "bad in a sexy way" kind of bad. The kind of bad that feels so good. What about the icky sticky shitty bad that feels like being suffocated? What about depression, exhaustion, paranoia, shame, grief, anxiety, anger, isolation, fear?
Have you ever experienced emotion getting "stuck" in the body? So every time you feel shame or guilt or feelings associated with something traumatizing, it puts a wrench in your ability to process the moment? I am SO freaked out about feeling any of these feelings and the reaction I'll have to them, that I avoid them entirely. I'm so anxious about [name a bad feeling here], that I begin to have anxiety about having the feeling in the first place. I spend more of my time trying to avoid the feelings than I would actually spend IN the feelings themselves.
I need to SIT with them, but I'm so afraid. I feel like if I sink into my depression or exhaustion, it'll define me. It'll swallow me whole. It'll bury me forever and I'll never get out. So whenever I feel the bad feels, I panic. I start clawing at the edges of the hole like a maniac, desperate to get out. My panicked body is so ashamed of the bad shit that I won't risk getting stuck in it. I dig and claw and flail in the gutter, tiring myself out even more, until finally something gives and I just end up feeling better, eventually, and then I feel it all again.
Of course, as I'm saying all of this, I'm like... wait, but what if I get carried away and the bad feelings do feel like they're starting to define me? Okay, so here's my response to that: my friend Anna said something today while we were talking in our Dead Parent Club chat on clubhouse, feel your feelings but don't reinforce your own wounds. It got me thinking: treat your emotional wounds like you would your physical wounds. Don't continue to cut into your scars over and over again, but don't pretend they're not there; put some lotion on them, drink some water, spend some time loving them and accepting they're a part of you. Does that make sense?
My mind feels like a bowl of water that I'm constantly trying to balance. It feels like I have all of these "negative" feelings & old patterns taking up all of this space in the bowl. I keep trying to learn new patterns and balance all of the desires and ideas I have about my life with all of the negative things. I shove them in and make space but every time I trip or stumble or move the bowl too much, all of the new thoughts and patterns fall out. But why don't they ever leave the bowl? Why doesn't it feel like they ever spill out? They're part of the bowl, maybe the bowl is made of those things because they're so foundational to who I am and who I've been. I'll never get them to leave the bowl; they are the bowl. All of these "bad things" I'm trying to weed out in myself are just part of me. If I can sit with them, maybe I can understand them better.
I hate the way I feel when I'm low. Vitriolic hate. I am so afraid of not "meeting my potential" or something. Of making mistakes, missing out on opportunities, being misunderstood, not being easy, being wrong, being bad. The hyper vigilance associated with always wanting to be my "best self" is pushing me further into exhaustion. Every time I start to let myself rest, I feel like I'm falling; I panic. I start digging, clawing, frantic. I claw myself further down than I ever would have been if I just sat in the hole and let the storm pass. I am so afraid of being imperfect, afraid of being undeserving of love, joy, life.
Why is it so fucking hard to rest? Does an object in motion stay in motion, or does it just become so completely burnt out and exhausted that it forgets where it's even going and motion becomes it's entire identity? Maybe moss isn't such a bad thing for a rolling stone to gather, you know?
Are you the type of person that only truly rests when they're bedridden? I used to get colds ALL OF THE TIME. I would always be *just a little sick* but pride myself in how ready I was to push through it. A lot of us were like that, especially before Covid, right? It's capitalism's strong hold on our psyche, equating our self worth with productivity and forcing us to not only push through and ignore our own health and triggers, but to actively put others in danger by doing so. Last February, my therapist told me to recognize when I get sick. Do I get sick every February? Every March? I said well, maybe it's the season... it's winter, it's flu season, it's normal. He was encouraging me to consider that maybe my body was trying to tell me something. That every year, around this time, I need a fucking break, and the only way I ever give my body a break is if it's forced upon me – if I'm so miserable, tired, and achy that all I can do is sit in bed all day. What if I were able to listen to my body before it got to that point? What if I could prioritize rest before it gave me no choice? Why do we have to hurt ourselves in order to hear what we need?
Do you feel undeserving of rest? When you're "bad," do you feel undeserving of love? What happens when love feels conditional? What were you taught to believe a good person is? A good kid, good girl (cringe)? So many folks are taught to be quiet, humble, obedient. Sweet, kind, trusting. Stay out of trouble. If you get in trouble, it must be your fault, right? (UGH). The more we lean in to these characteristic, the further we get from ourselves. When we stomp out "bad feelings," we fuck up our gut instincts. So we ignore our triggers when they're going off right in front of us. They're meant to be alarms, alerting us of what we need. A shitty dude makes you feel weird, but you don't want to be seen as too "bitchy" or "emotional" so you just quietly sit through all of his bullshit, ignore the red flags, ignore the panic button in your brain until you're fucking in it and you can't find your way out. All of the signals that our gut tries to send us get quiet, they become background noise. It becomes harder and harder to hear ourselves and our instincts because we've been quieting them for so long.
WHAT ARE THE FEELINGS TRYING TO TELL YOU?
There were a few things that happened early in the year that hit the "panic button" in my brain. I was feeling really paranoid, a feeling I've only recently named but recognize I've felt often throughout my life. It's the main feeling I get when I feel triggered. My mind turns itself inside out, looking for things I've done wrong, ways I could have been better. It feels like my inside and outside world is collapsing and I'm all alone.
This happened when my stepdad told my mom that he was "terrified" of me in February. I assume it was a great exaggeration of the discomfort he feels when I stick up for myself and my mom when he gaslights us. I assume it would feel terrifying if you expect women to be quiet & docile but they're not. Terrifying was not the right word, to me. Terrifying, in my mind, evokes images of hysteria, abuse, uncontrollable anger, manipulation, fear. Hearing that I could be capable of that labeled invoked paranoia – I felt myself crumbling, unable to grasp onto the things I know to be true about myself. I started to believe him. When I stand up for my mom, am I just causing trouble? When I share my beliefs with others, am I making them uncomfortable? It rattles me. But eventually I always come back to myself, and I remember... yeah, if I'm causing trouble or making others uncomfortable, that's not a bad thing. I'm so afraid of being bad that I cut myself off from what the assumed "bad" actually has to offer. Most things exist in the space between and beyond bad/good. My brain automatically files away "terrifying" in the bad category and I punish myself, spiraling, trying to find good again. If I can sit in the filing cabinet labeled "bad" for long enough, maybe I'll find all of the bigger, better, more interesting labels I could have created for them.
Did you watch AOC's video about compounded trauma & what happened at the capitol? It's been a while, but it rocked me. Not because she was saying anything I was surprised by; but because she was finally giving voice to something I felt, quietly. It felt like a huge truth was finally being revealed to a mainstream audience (I guess that's what this entire year has felt like to a lot of people, in a lot of ways). Things we've all been screaming about are finally being heard. Anyway, I bring it up because I was thinking about it A LOT. Thinking about how abusers will always try to disempower survivors, on any scale. They ask you to "meet them in the middle" while they're actively abusing you, making you question your reality and your worth. They tell you you're crazy so they can keep getting away with it. They tell you you're "too emotional" or "hysterical" in order to discredit you, so they don't have to be checked on their behavior.
I was talking to my friend Shawna about the dances we do with people in our lives to feel accepted, the ways we toss and turn and twist ourselves to be a palatable version that they can relate to. Eventually, something has to give, right? Why keep watering yourself down until there's nothing left? It'll never be enough. She said something that stuck with me: “The more you push me away, the farther away I am.” It's that simple. When you push me away, what if I stop trying to bend myself back into a shape that you'll accept? You'll stay right where you are, and so will I. I won't ask you to shapeshift, and I will no longer accept that I feel I need to in order to win your acceptance.
So be terrifying, right?
If being myself, standing my ground, sticking up for myself, or even just sharing my honest feelings evokes fear in someone whose values I don't even align with... who fucking cares? Why have I been conditioned to care about the thoughts of every single person who engages with me, while they behave flippantly and recklessly without a care in the world of the impact their actions have on others? Don't let them make you want to water yourself down.
I took the author photo for Uli's upcoming book, Between the Lines! The book compiles portraits & interviews with folks reading on the subway. I also edited all of Uli's photographs for said book! Pre-order it on bookshop.org & support indie bookstores. 😎
I'm finalizing the curriculum for a pay-what-you-can month long photography workshop (through zoom). It's going to be a little community space, but in the most warm, inviting, enthusiastic, and curious way possible. It would be a cozy little online community where we would help you work through any ideas that you have, whether you're brand new to photography and testing out your eye, building out an idea for a new project, or sequencing existing images into their final project. If you're interested in being a part of this little beta-test workshop I'm figuring out, fill out this short form here. :)
I love you! What are you feeling? What are you avoiding feeling? It's okay, they don't define you. I'm here to hear them if you want to share. xo
⋰ If you'd like to read previous newsletters, they are archived here.
This newsletter was written from the Onundagaonoga (Onondaga) & Haudenosaunee territory To learn more about the stolen land you're occupying, visit native-land.ca ⋰
