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Origin of emotions
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Emotions1
Emotions2
Emotions3
Conditioning
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Duality
Subjective time
Grief
EEEEs 1
EEEEs 2
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SECTION 4
The Healing of Emotions
This section has a more practical flavour than
the previous three sections. This is partly because it draws on the understanding of emotions
and their effects, discussed in those sections, to develop a practical approach to the relief
of emotional pain. And it is partly due to the addition of some other ideas – which are
included for the very same purpose.
Although it may read a little differently, I
do not see anything awkward in this transition from theory to practice. Indeed, I would see little
value in any theory which could not usefully be applied in some way – though not necessarily
a material way. This section is, in one sense, the most important part of the book. But it is
also heavily dependent on the previous sections.
It would be more difficult to understand and
practise the Emotional EEEEs technique described in this section, without the thorough understanding
of emotions provided by the earlier parts of the book. And, as any readers who later practice
Wanterfall work will find, it would be very difficult to explore
the mind in that way, without some means of resolving the emotional issues which it inevitably
uncovers.
Importantly, this section begins with some more
cautions, which are particularly important whenever there is any degree of emotional distress
present, as only some cases can safely be approached in the ways which will soon be described.
More Cautions
There are some important cautions, which relate
to the whole of this book, just before the start of Section 1. But I want to revisit my warnings
about the limitations of the techniques described under Emotional EEEEs (also referred to as EEEEs
work) before continuing with Section 4. Please read all the cautions very carefully, as skipping
them, or ignoring them, could result in considerable unnecessary suffering. It could even, conceivably,
cost you your life.
This section is entirely devoted to healing
the universal suffering that has its roots in the "normal" emotional responses previously
discussed in this book. However, similar suffering can occur as a result of various mental illnesses,
in which case medical treatment is usually necessary – and is very effective.
A particularly important distinction is the
one between grief and a depressive disorder. Many of the features are similar – but the
cause is different, the complications are different and the treatment is different. Even grief
which is initially normal may later be complicated by a depressive disorder, and the change can
easily go unnoticed. Also, as discussed under the earlier Cautions heading, a variety of other
illnesses, both physical and mental, can masquerade as emotional distress.
Making all these distinctions is a routine –
though not always easy – part of modern clinical medicine. But thinking you can make them
for yourself, no matter how clever and confident you may be (and perhaps especially if you happen
to be a mental health professional) is a recipe for continuing suffering – and, if a serious
illness is missed, sometimes death.
Even when the cause of suffering is clearly
emotional, it is still essential to get professional help if things are going badly. Again, grief
is a good example. Although it is a normal process in itself, that process can easily get "stuck".
Then it is called pathological grief. Skilled intervention for pathological grief is very effective
– but the lack of it may be utterly disastrous.
The intertwining of emotional and physical problems
is not limited to grief. Emotional distress may occur in the context of any co-existing physical
or mental illness. Sometimes, emotional distress can itself precipitate a physical or mental illness.
At other times, the emotional distress may be an effect of some physical or mental illness.
In other words, these three things, physical
illness, mental illness and emotional distress, may bear any and every possible relationship to
each other. This can be difficult enough for a team of doctors to clarify – let alone the
person who is unwell.
In summary, emotional distress occurs in very
many situations, and you can never assume either that the Wanterfall model describes its
cause, or that EEEEs work will be its cure. When in doubt, find out! And that simply means,
seek medical advice whenever things are going badly. Because, by just hoping for the best, you
are also inviting the worst.
Introduction
In describing the process that leads to the
healing of any emotional pain or distress, I will use the compound emotion grief as my
example, for four reasons. Firstly, grief is an almost universal experience, so many readers will
have personal experience of it. Secondly, it is a very painful experience, so there is much to
be gained by learning how to move through it. Thirdly, it is very amenable to assistance, so learning
about it will make you a valuable resource, for the rest of your life. And finally, the process
which leads to the healing of grief, can also be applied to any other emotional pain or distress.
Grief is the natural response to any loss. Most poignantly, it is
the response to death – either the death, or impending death, of a loved one; or the knowledge
of one's own impending death. However, any distressing deviation from a desired state can cause
grief. Even the loss of a button can cause a miniature version of the same response – though
we do not usually use the term grief unless we perceive the loss as being significant.
As you know, the components of grief are found
on the lower right hand side of the Wanterfall
chart. However, charting them there does not make them any less painful. The journey through the
grief caused by a great loss such as bereavement or incurable illness is always a tremendous challenge.
So, although I am about to explain how to pass through grief and emerge, inevitably scarred but
completely healed, I am not about to suggest that the passage is an easy one.
Perhaps grief is what you are experiencing right
now – perhaps that is why you have turned to this page. If so, let me talk directly to you
for a while. I wonder if you feel that everything that was good in your life is now over –
that you will continue to exist, but you will never really live again.
Many people have shared that feeling with me,
especially during my twelve years as a hospice physician. And, in a sense, it is exactly the right
way to feel at this time. For that matter, the way you do feel is always the right way to feel.
But feelings can change – even your present feelings might change.
It is certainly true that your life will never
be as it was. However, that does not mean that your life is over. It will be a different life,
of course. But there is no reason that it cannot include all the joy and love that human beings
are capable of embracing. Now, I am quite sure you don't believe a word of that – and equally
sure that I can show you how to discover it.
The very idea of cheerful activities, good company
and pleasant days may seem disloyal, treacherous or just plain ridiculous, when grief has struck
you down. The sun has set for you, and the darkness seems impenetrable. But sooner or later, you
will see the first glimmer of an inner sunrise. For there
is still the same life within you that there always was. It is just that, for now and perhaps
for some time to come, it is in hiding.
But as I said, I don't expect you to believe
any such thing. I wouldn't believe it myself. Or at least, not until it had been demonstrated.
So that is now my task. I will describe, in this section, how to move through grief until your
love of life returns. You can start when you choose, and move at your own pace. Not everything
described will apply to you – just take what you need. And I do not ask you to believe that
it is possible, until you yourself become the living proof of it.
I will certainly not try to do your grieving
for you – nobody can do that. Nor will I try to tell you how to feel, or when to feel better,
or when to feel worse. And I will never, ever suggest that anything about grieving is easy.
What I will do, is remind you, from time to
time, that it is possible. Because that is one of the few things that I know to be true, without
a shadow of a doubt. I did not work it out by thinking hard, nor did I learn it through study.
I discovered it more or less in passing, in the course of my somewhat unusual training and career,
and my own experiences of grief. And I don't think it should be kept a secret.
Now, a few paragraphs back, I mentioned the
idea of moving through grief. But why not just go around it? Well, it is a good idea. Or
rather, it would be, if it worked. I expect you will try it, as most people do – that is
part of grieving. But the path around grief is a bit too true to its name, to be of any use. Because
it goes around grief, and around it, and around it. Indeed, it goes around in circles, for as
long as you like.
In my experience, any attempt to avoid going
through grief can never be more than a preparation for grieving – a way of learning what
does not help. Sooner or later – and preferably sooner – it becomes necessary
to look inside grief, and find out what makes it tick. This is of universal relevance, so I
will no longer address myself directly to you, my grieving reader. But it will still be written
for you. It is all written for you.
Looking Inside Grief
The first thing
to notice about grief may seem too obvious to need saying, but I will say it anyway. Grief
is made of emotions. Often, an overwhelming avalanche of them; at other times, more of an
interminable glacier. Of course, it is always a response to one or more facts, it is usually associated
with various physical effects, and many, many thoughts surround it – but its essence consists
of emotions.
As mentioned previously,
grief inhabits the lower right quadrant of the Wanterfall chart, where things either do not go
as we want – or else do go exactly as we don't want. The primary emotions
shown on this part of the chart are sadness and antipathy. The feelings found under
these two umbrellas have been listed under The Six Primary Emotions, but I will mention some of
them again now.
The primary emotion
sadness includes many feelings, most of which are felt frequently during grieving. Examples
are sorrow, misery, dejection, dissatisfaction, despondency, mournfulness,
gloom, and depression.
The primary emotion antipathy also includes
many feelings, of which the ones most often felt during grieving are anger, disapproval and hostility.
Especially anger. The anger may be directed at the situation in general, or at one or more
people who are considered partly or wholly responsible for the loss.
Doctors and hospitals are frequent targets for
such anger. Whether or not they did their job well, they failed. Also, people who are even a little
bit religious often feel angry with God, either in a general way, or for specific examples of
action or inaction. This is a normal component of grief, and should never be confused with blasphemy.
Grief is not content
to be restricted to one quadrant of the Wanterfall chart, and is of course not alone in this.
The bleak and uncertain nature of the future may awaken the primary emotion fear, with
a sense that the future will be painful, just as the present is; and with an urge to escape from
the pain, if only it were possible.
Often, friends
and family offer warmth and kindness, or other feelings found in the primary emotion propathy, but in many cases the ability to enjoy the feelings found under that
umbrella (or indeed to enjoy anything at all) is hibernating. Similarly, feelings found in the
primary emotions happiness and hope are in short supply – and will remain
so, for some time to come.
So grief consists
of many emotions – mainly the painful ones. But do they all stem from the loss which has
occurred? This is a very important question about grief – and the answer is no, not all
of them. Some of the emotions which occur in grief are not directly related to the loss.
Where, then, do they come from? There are two sources from which these important feelings can
originate.
The first source
has to do with the context in which the loss occurred. Anxieties about other family members, worry
about financial problems, feelings of guilt about something or other that occurred before the
person's death, or any of many other possible issues, may be superimposed on grief simply because
they are part of the life of the grieving person. The process of arranging and taking part in
a funeral, though usually therapeutic overall, may also be extremely stressful. And physical exhaustion
or illness may be present, sapping strength, just when it is most needed.
The second source
might also be considered contextual, but it involves an inner context. Our emotional experience
inevitably occurs within the context of our emotional knowledge – in other words, our emotional
memories. This means that past pains can often be brought to mind by current grief.
Considering how
many emotions (virtually all the painful ones, and a few of the others at times) are involved
in grief, it is not surprising that grief can awaken pains from the past. And this "unfinished
business" is so important to a better understanding of grief, that I am going to give it
a heading of its own.
Unfinished Business
The late Elisabeth Kübler-Ross used the terms "unfinished business" and "pool
of pain" for suppressed or repressed, leftover emotions which remain in the mind in a relatively
dormant state. Along with many other psychiatrists, psychologists and therapists, she was convinced
of the pivotal importance of these hidden emotions in understanding grief, or indeed any emotional
suffering.
"Unfinished
business" implies something that has already been encountered, but not completely dealt with.
And "pool of pain" suggests that this "business", as well as being painful,
might well vary in amount as content moves in or out of the pool. It does sound rather fanciful,
doesn't it? But these metaphors point to an underlying reality that is not fanciful at all.
Indeed, the essence
of the analogy, if not always the labelling, is accepted by most counsellors who work with people
in emotional pain. It is also realised by most people who have worked their way out of
emotional pain. And I'm sure you can guess that I have found it helpful during my own clinical
career – otherwise, I would not waste your time by writing about it.
It is also quite
common to speak of emotions being "bottled up" or "pushed to the back of the mind".
The metaphor of an "emotional abscess" has also been suggested. These terms all point
to exactly the same idea, though they may emphasise different aspects of it. And there are, in
fact, a number of different aspects to this idea, which I would like to look at next.
In the first paragraph,
I referred to a relatively dormant state. That was deliberate, because emotions in the
pool of pain are neither comatose nor encapsulated. Barriers in the human mind are never completely
impervious, so a metaphorical pool (or abscess) full of pain inevitably exerts an influence on
our day to day experience. This could be visualised as a slow percolation of toxic matter from
the pool, seeping into the rest of the mind and making it slightly (or sometimes very) unwell.
Another important
aspect of bottled up emotions is that they may not necessarily remain unchanged over time –
they may sometimes become distorted. For example, anger and fear may sometimes develop into hatred,
when bottled up together for too long. Other examples of possible changes in stored emotions are
given under Suppressed Emotions in Section 2.
So this somewhat
leaky pool may become murkier with time. But a pool (or an abscess, or a bottle) does not always
leak slowly. Old feelings can sometimes erupt with astounding intensity, when a current event
provides a strong enough reminder of the circumstances which originally caused them. I think the
analogy of an abscess is most appropriate here.
One possible result
of the bursting of an abscess is an initially painful, but ultimately healing, process. But, if
an abscess bursts, it is important that it bursts to the exterior. Abscesses which burst internally
can cause serious illness, or sometimes death. So expert lancing of an abscess is preferable.
It allows for choice of drainage path, as well as early drainage.
How does this
relate to pent up feelings? Sometimes, experiences which awaken unfinished business can be a blessing
in disguise – they can cause the release of toxic emotions which have been poisoning the
emotional life of the host for some time. Considerable healing usually follows.
But an avalanche
of painful emotions can be just as dangerous as a physical avalanche. There is a risk of harm
to self or others during the acute phase, which could conceivably include suicide, murder or both.
I will be discussing the safety aspects of emotional catharsis fairly soon, under Emotional EEEEs.
For now, it is enough to note that the release of emotions, whether spontaneous or facilitated,
cannot be treated lightly.
Of course, unfinished
business has an effect on feelings whether grief is present or not. But its interactions with
grief are important. Firstly, it may delay grieving, if a perceived threat of awakening old emotions
discourages the expression of current feelings. Secondly, it may erupt unpredictably, as a result
of stimulation by current feelings. And finally, the almost inevitable drainage work which occurs
during grieving often results in the resolution of many past issues as well.
You might wonder
how much reduction in unfinished business is enough. To be completely free of unfinished business,
even if that were feasible, would surely be the tallest of tall orders. And it is certainly not
necessary, from the point of view of grieving. The main thing is to understand and accept that
you will sometimes feel old pains as well as new ones, and just let feelings surface when they
are ready to do so.
This process can
be helped along in various ways. But before I describe those ways, under Emotional EEEEs, I want
to mention some important landmarks which may be encountered in the journey through grief. They
are sometimes called the "stages" of grieving, but in fact they are neither strictly
sequential nor particularly predictable.
Moving Through Grief
A number of "stages"
of grieving were described by Elisabeth Kübler-Ross, in her book On Death and Dying. This book focused mainly
on people who were facing impending death, but the same elements can be seen in people grieving
for the death of a loved one – or indeed, following any significant loss. Kübler-Ross used
the terms denial, anger, bargaining, depression and acceptance for these "stages"
of grieving.
She did not say
that they all appear in every case, nor did she say that their order is fixed – though she
was often criticised for allegedly saying those things. In fact, there usually is a general trend
in the direction shown above, and most of the elements can be identified if they are looked for.
However, the idea of discrete stages, occurring in a fixed order, represents a significant misunderstanding
of her work – and of grief itself.
Indeed, the features
of each "stage" may recur at almost any time. This implies that all the "stages"
could conceivably be present at once. That would be quite unusual, though certainly not impossible
if the expression of each was incomplete. Further recurrences, especially of anger and sadness,
are also common at the times of the various anniversaries which remind the bereaved person of
their loss. But despite their lack of regularity, the aspects of grieving listed above are worth
a closer look, because they provide some insight into the process.
Perhaps I can safely look at these stages one
at a time now, without any readers fastening a vice-like grip on the order in which they appear
in the text. I am going to start with denial, just as Kübler-Ross did. However, some of her
other stage names will have to share the limelight occasionally, due to the inclusion of ideas
suggested by other authors.
I have mentioned previously, under The Anatomy
of Emotions, that there is often a delay before sadness and antipathy are felt after
a loss. This would be impossible unless the realisation of the loss was itself delayed. The temporary
absence of realisation is usually called denial. When the distress would be overwhelming, as in
the case of bereavement or incurable illness, denial is sometimes both profound and prolonged.
In some cases, this results in a bereaved person
being completely oblivious to the reality of their loss. This is sometimes called unconscious
denial, and is often, though not necessarily, complete. In other cases, there may simply be a
strong preference for not facing the reality, even though it is at least partly recognised. This
is conscious denial, and is less likely to be complete, though it may be. But whether conscious
or unconscious, complete or partial, it is often referred to simply as denial. It is also,
quite often, called (emotional) shock – or simply numbness.
The mechanism of denial is uncertain, but it
is often considered to be a protective device, on the assumption that awareness of the full significance
of the event would overwhelm the person's mind, with serious consequences. This theory cannot
be tested, because denial cannot be switched on and off. However, it is clear that grief is capable
of causing overwhelming emotional pain, and that the latter can have serious consequences, so
the theory is plausible. What is certain, is that denial very often does occur, and is then an
integral part of grieving.
The transition from complete or partial denial
to a full recognition of the unpleasant reality can be gradual, sudden or relapsing. When there
is an identifiable transitional phase, it often includes a search, sometimes quite a comprehensive
one, for an acceptable explanation for the situation – or at least, an explanation less
terrible than the obvious but unthinkable possibility – which might still account for the
apparent facts.
Such behaviour is often called searching. It may even involve a physical search for the
person who has died, in the hope that there has been a mistake, and the person is simply lost.
More often, though, it is less specific than that, though still analogous to it. It is important
to acknowledge the normality of this behaviour – which would be far from normal in other
circumstances – but it should not be artificially reinforced.
A behaviour which is closely related to searching
may either take its place, or occur in addition to it. That behaviour is called bargaining.
It is not the usual sort of bargaining, but rather a virtual bargaining – trying to make
a mental deal, with any power the bereaved person considers might possibly exist, for the reversal
of the apparent but utterly unacceptable reality.
When religious people bargain in this way, they
engage in contractual negotiations with their God. This may seem strange to a third party, but
bargaining is just as normal an aspect of grieving as denial or searching. And like them, it requires
acceptance, but not reinforcement. It will run its course soon enough in most cases.
Now, looking back over the last few pages, you
can see that I have given denial three words (denial, shock, numbness) and bargaining
two words (searching, bargaining). I have also promoted bargaining, so that it appears before
anger. And in just a moment I will explain that the primary emotion sadness provides the
meaning of depression intended by Kübler-Ross.
As the last stage, acceptance, is not
going to suffer any tampering at all, I think you will agree that the five stages have come through
quite unscathed – an excellent result in all the circumstances. So, if you like the simplicity
of denial, anger, bargaining, depression, acceptance, you still have it – sort of.
As [denial/shock/numbness] and/or [searching/bargaining]
are replaced, gradually or suddenly, by an increasingly clear realisation of the terrible reality,
sadness and antipathy move to centre stage. In many cases, anger is the most evident
emotion from the umbrella of antipathy, and it often makes its first appearance before the various
emotions from the umbrella of sadness emerge.
Or else it does nothing of the sort. Because,
like everything else to do with grief, anger varies – sadness may come first, and in fact
anger and sadness frequently alternate or coexist. Alternatively, anger may make its first appearance
before searching and/or bargaining, despite the close connections between the latter two phenomena
and denial.
There is another way in which anger may make
its entry. If there is no noticeable denial phase, anger may be the immediate response. This is
presumably why ancient kings and princes had a tendency to execute the bearers of bad news. We
still talk of "shooting the messenger" – but nowadays, fortunately, it is usually
a metaphor for aggressive reactions of a less permanent variety.
That brings us
to acceptance. The very idea of acceptance is likely to seem ludicrous, if
not downright offensive, to a bereaved person. That, of course, is part and parcel of the emotional
voyage of grief. But, sooner or later, some sort of acceptance usually does occur. Or, to be a
little less imprecise, at least three sorts of acceptance may be encountered. Each tends to come
and go, erratically, for a variable period of time, gradually becoming more stable in most cases.
First, there is
the acceptance that the loss is real – this is the acceptance which replaces denial, thereby
allowing the emotions of grief to emerge. Then, there is the acceptance that life can go on
– even though a hole has been left in it, which will never be filled. This is usually the beginning
of a gradual but progressive improvement in wellbeing, leading to a life which, though still different,
is no longer bleak and miserable.
Finally, and only
in some cases, there is a much greater acceptance and appreciation of life than was the
case before the loss occurred. This is a side effect of the EEEEs process described below, and
is an example of the good which sometimes grows out of terrible experiences – even though
we would never choose to have them, if we had that choice. This variety of acceptance is a great
blessing – but it is a bonus, rather than a routine result of having moved through grief.
However we describe
and classify it, there is tremendous variation in the process of grieving. Some people pass through
it relatively calmly. Others seem to take forever, or go through hell, or both. I will mention
a few factors which could influence these variations, but I am sure there are many others.
Various characteristics
of the loss itself will inevitably have a significant impact on the process. However, it is the
effect of these characteristics on the bereaved person which is important, rather than their external
assessment. Therefore, while the importance of the characteristics of the loss can be presumed,
it cannot easily be measured. Nevertheless, some characteristics, such as unexpected death, presumed
but unproven death, child death, parent death, murder, and suicide, certainly appear to have some
partially predictable effects.
The next major
influence that comes to mind is the nature and quantity of the person's unfinished business prior
to the loss. This, whatever it is, will be stirred up by every aspect of grieving – and
will, in turn, have its own effect on every aspect of grieving. In a very imprecise way, you could
say that more unfinished business means a bumpier ride through grief. But also, if it is addressed
effectively, it means that more secondary benefits may accompany the grieving process.
Closely allied
to the previous factor, is the importance of the way in which the person deals with the strong
emotions of grief. If the EEEEs work described under the next heading, or something equivalent
to it, is already known, or is now learned, by the grieving person, then these emotions can be
safely expressed – which makes an enormous difference.
Finally, various
choices that are made by the person during the grieving process can be of pivotal importance.
The importance of a choice to accept the existence of feelings and work through them – which
is much easier to say than to do – has already been implied. A choice to exact revenge can
both slow the grieving process and create new problems. And many other choices can sometimes be
seen as forks in the road of grieving.
Now, most of the
above influences on grieving are either difficult or impossible to modify – but the way
emotions are dealt with is an exception. A safe and effective method of doing this can be offered,
taught and facilitated in various ways and at various levels of intensity. The ways might involve
anything from a short chat to formal and prolonged counselling, and the intensity might also vary
considerably.
While effective
help with emotions is not the only thing needed by a person who is grieving, I am quite certain
that it is the most valuable thing. Its beneficial effects grow like a living plant, and they
can also be applied to other losses, past or future. Whether in the office of a grief counsellor,
the home of a friend, or for that matter in solitary confinement in a prison cell – if the
emotions of grief are dealt with effectively, grieving will proceed inexorably towards its invariable
goal.
I do not advise
talking of a "goal of grieving" to those who actually are grieving, but an onlooker
may well perceive something of the sort. It could be thought of as a life which is again worth
living, despite the fact of the loss. In some cases, that life is richer emotionally than it ever
was before – though the change may not be admitted, or even noticed. Of course, this second
suggestion is even less likely to be welcomed, by a grieving person, than the more general idea
of a goal.
During the discussion
of the nature of grief – and indeed throughout the book – I have made many references
to the safe expression of emotions. It is now time to say exactly what I mean by this, and I will
do so under the next heading. As with most things in life, there are various ways of approaching
painful emotions. However, I think many of the differences have more to do with the details than
the overall concept.
I have called
the method which I describe in the following pages "Emotional EEEEs".
The four Es stand for Encourage, Explore, Express and Evaluate. That is partly because I like
mnemonics, and partly because I like the idea of easing pain. But it is mainly because the essential
elements of the method fit very neatly under those four headings.
Of course, as
explained many pages back under Denials, the name is emphatically NOT an attempt to imply
ownership of the method. The name may be new (though not to everyone, as I have used it in lecture
notes over a long period of time) but the method, in one form or another, can be derived from
ideas which reach back as far as history itself. More recently, it has been used extensively by
Kübler-Ross, Barham and colleagues, as well as many others. Consequently, while any errors in the text
will indubitably be my own, the method itself is pretty well universal.
Some of the content
under the next heading is so obvious that you may wonder why I bothered to type it at all. On
the other hand, some of it may seem a little surprising, and you might instead wonder whether
I should have culled it considerably.
But I suggest
that Emotional EEEEs should be approached as if it were a tool kit, designed for the repair of
emotional suffering. There are various different tools, each of which comes in a range of different
sizes. And you only need to use the tools, and the sizes, required for the current repair job.
(Click the number of a footnote to return
to its reference in the text)
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