half of my son
processing grief so it doesn’t dysregulate us
here’s what i’m covering in today’s letter in case you’re short on time :)
- tools for processing big uncomfy emotions so they don’t disconnect us from ourselves and lead us to behaviors (like emotional eating) that don’t have our best selves or future selves in mind
- how i manage my own pain and sadness, a vulnerable share i havent felt comfy processing till now
- the exercise i give clients for inviting big feelings in on our own terms
- two of my coziest recipes on earth, including my famous brisket and a nutter butter
mindset reset:
this is going to sound completely nuts unless you’ve been through hell and back emotionally (in which case let’s be friends):
i’m finally happy enough that it’s time to process some deep sadness that i haven’t been ready to feel until now.
the reason big uncomfy feelings are relevant here and in my private practice is that in my 14 years of supporting clients one on one, it is abundantly clear that unfelt feelings deregulate us and that dysregulation drives us to our unhelpful coping mechanisms (overeating is a really common one). so we gotta have tools to let those feelings flow.
and that’s what today’s letter is dedicated to...how to process pain and grief and sadness so it doesn’t disconnect us from ourselves and lead us to behaviors that don’t have our best selves or future selves in mind.
this one is quite vulnerable...
i’m going to process my own pain through writing this because i have a feeling that by doing that, and placing it here gently, it might set me free.
when the dust settled after oliver’s dad and i separated 4.5 years ago, and after a ton of really good therapy, the big underscore was that we consciously uncoupled our asses off and i was really proud of that. his dad and i had met when i was 21, we were together for 14 years, married for 10, and we found a way to be big ole grownups together in a new configuration. it was nice and remains nice, we are indeed a family with two homes, and a ton of respect. it’s exactly what we hoped we could do.
and i think i clung on to that truth for dear life so i didn’t have to acknowledge the truly devastating part…
i miss my son all the time, because i only have him for half of the time. it is my deepest most painful wound and it won’t stop being painful but i think by simply acknowledging it, and giving it some oxygen, it might root me further in myself, in all my imperfect humanness, so i can show up more me and more honest and more present.
the problem is that no matter how gp and chris the vibes are it is simply not a natural thing to tuck your young child into bed 50% of the time (at least not for me). when i wake up in the morning before i have a second to think, my body doesn’t know he’s not here, and for a moment it fills me with a deep despair and dread.
one thing that is often said to me, which i know is meant to be kind and silver-liningy, but is actually hurtful and makes me want to simultaneously disintegrate into dust and explode in flames is the: in a way this setup is so lucky. they imagine all the stuff they could do in a 50% parenting setup... the rest they could catch up on, how present they could be without the full time parenting load. sometimes i run into my friends and their kids when i’m alone or with my longtime boyfriend ian and i get a “must be nice” comment. and the thing is, i get it completely. every parent everywhere has felt that 4p on a sunday sh*tstorm feeling when you would give anything to take a nap, or exercise, or do literally anything quietly and solo, which is why so many parents take refuge in our lil stolen lingering car moments after school drop off. i’m not discounting that. that’s real. and you know what, i am really good at my job and pour so much energy into it because i have time to do that. i have a healthy relationship, and when oliver isn’t with me he’s with his dad, his other parent who loves him more than anything, so i don’t have the mental load of onboarding a sitter or a grandparent. full stop. but let me just tell you, silence in your house that you didn’t ask for is deafening...i wailed as i typed that. silence when it should be filled with little fat footsteps and giggles and madness and blankets and stuffys and mischief and the way their pajamas hug their perfect bodies before bed. not being able to wipe tears that you might not even know about. it’s excruciating.
the only silver lining is that this arrangement has cured me of a lifelong battle with people pleasing, because nothing matters to me more than my time with oliver...and it’s helped me realize how valuable my time actually is. i stopped saying yes to things i don’t have time for or just don’t want to do, because it means i have less time to work and less time to be present with him. if i’m asked to do a social thing on an oliver night i prob won’t be there. it’s really simple. we’ll be talking trash playing monopoly.
i have tried everything to avoid feeling this pain (including some sneakily unhealthy coping mechanisms like workaholism) but the truth is the only healthy thing to do is to let it be true and painful. i want it to exist out in the open so it can stop spooking me, so at least i don’t have to fear the pain. and it’s not that the pain will go away, it’s that by giving it breathing room to exist with all the other good things in my life, perhaps it doesn’t have to sit on my shoulders all day. i actually do feel better and known and seen just even typing that all out.
unfelt feelings send us straight to our unhelpful coping mechanisms so i’ll offer you my biggest piece of advice, aside from sharing your story and writing it down like this. it’s an exercise i made up for myself but bring up in practice often:
set a timer for 10 minutes, put on the song that hurts the most, and let yourself truly wail (it’s ok if tears don’t flow, simply having the invitation and space to feel deeply is all you need), when the timer goes off, turn off the timer and the music and send yourself all the love in the entire effing universe and go back to your day. the reason it works is you are inviting pain in on your own terms, you are showing yourself and your nervous system you don’t have to fear pain...so it doesn’t spook you at 2a when you get up to go to the bathroom..you know what i mean? i made us this playlist of songs to cry to in a healthy way in case you feel like it, but Imk yours too if you have any, i’ll add to it!
some other deeply regulating things that can help and help me:
create, doodle, sketch, scrapbook, watercolor this is a truly stunning adult art set and this is a vvvvv chic needlepoint sitch
my friend
is a truly gifted breathwork teacher and i just find her to be a beacon of light, i devour everything she doesi’m obsessed with this gratitude sleepcast on headspace
somatic movement is a game changer, this is an amazing tutorial
shaking and vibration is deeply regulating for the nervous system and releases dopamine and serotonin, we can of course do it on our own but i have also been eyeing this vibration plate for a while but am forcing myself to do a closet cleanout first sigh
i sleep with this weighted blanket on my chest, and keep it on my lap while i work when i need it
this book by pema chodron is probably the most important book i’ve ever read and pulled me out of a very tough time and i reread it when i need
making a peace, pleasure and purpose list really helps me refocus my energy (share yours in the comments if you feel comfy, i love love love reading them and getting to know you better)
i’ve talked about my obsession with this tea, it’s just so nice, and i find the ritual of it nightly to signal a true winddown deeply grounding
recipes of the week:
- my ridiculous brisket: this is the most special and important recipe i’ve shared here it’s so perfect and cozy and grounding if you are gonna be at home for a couple hours pop her right in!!