Note: Read the companion post to this one first: Suffering Is The Foundation for Growth.
As a counselor, I find it very helpful to give my clients language that enables them to visualize abstract concepts like emotions. Today I want to talk about containers for pain.
Why We Need Them
Sometimes the pain of life is just too much for us to take. We can’t function day to day with all the pain and suffering built up inside of us. We need places to put our pain, figuratively speaking. The more pain we have, the more suffering or loss, the more containers we need.
Generally people don’t have any containers. Or the ones they have don’t work very well. They’re leaky. That pain oozes everywhere, and we become toxic inside ourselves. Containers allow for ordered pain.
I want to help people identify their containers. And, if they don’t have any, how do we create them? Or how do you create better ones if yours are faulty? There are lots of ways to do it, but it requires experimenting.
Counselors Need Containers, Too
People ask me a lot, as a therapist, how I carry everybody’s stuff. “How does that not wreck you?” they want to know. The answer is: I have containers. I have places to put it.
When I get done with a session where someone has shared their pain with me, and I close the file, I think of it as shutting that pain in the folder, in the drawer. When I leave my office and close the door, I visualize shutting that pain in the office. If it’s still lingering when I’m in the car—particularly if someone has told me about abuse—I’ll think about it on the way home, then leave it in my car.
It doesn’t always work. I’m a human being with emotions. But, generally speaking, as I get farther and farther away from it, my mind gets quieter and quieter. I’ve learned how to compartmentalize my life so I can be the best therapist possible and also live a life outside of the office that I love.
Our Natural Containers
Did you know that we have natural containers for pain? These are things God or the universe has given us that can serve us well. The first one? Tears. Tears are a natural container for pain. They’re pain leaving the body. I can’t tell you how many people have said to me, “I’m sorry I’m crying!” No. Don’t be sorry. Cry. It’s a detox. You’re letting that pain out of your body where it’s been building up. This is a good thing. But people often don’t see it that way.
I’ll give you another example from my personal life. I go to a hot gym where it’s 108 degrees. It’s an hour of torture—planks and weight lifting and mountain climbing. While it’s so dark and hot and sweaty, I think of myself sweating all my grief and pain out. I’m literally leaving it all on the mat. I feel so good when I’m done. Not just physically, but mentally and emotionally as well.
How Do I Keep the Lid On?
I was talking to someone recently who’s experiencing grief. She said the lid of her grief container keeps popping off, and she wanted advice on how to keep it on. I told her that I don’t think you should keep a lid on your container. I think you should take it off. It’s okay to be a mess sometimes.
If you absolutely need to keep your lid on at certain times (like when you’re at work), then you need to take the lid off at other, more appropriate times to relieve that pressure. Your lid won’t come off at work if you’re taking time to take the lid off with your therapist. If you’re doing that work at an ordered time, it’s less likely that your lid will pop off at work. This isn’t foolproof, but it will be better.
Make time to cry, to sweat. You can also write stuff down. Put it in a journal or your phone, and come back and deal with it later. These serve as a container, a place to put it. You just had this crazy thought or painful moment, and you can write it down and deal with it later.
Planned Grief
Speaking of dealing with it later, you can even take it a step further and plan a time to sit with your grief. Let’s say you feel the grief coming, and you say to yourself, “I’m going to deal with this on Tuesday from 4:00 to 4:30pm. I’m going to face it head-on and let all the feelings come.” You can even put it on your calendar. At the end of that half hour, I stop and cut it off and don’t deal with it any more. You’re letting it out, dealing with it, but then you’re not going to do it after the window.
I always encourage people to plan their grief when they’re already going to feel bad. If I already feel bad in the morning when I wake up, then I plan my grief for that period of time. It shouldn’t be longer than a half hour. It’s exhausting work, and we can only handle so much. Then you’ve got to stop.
You can also use this technique to plan out your anger. If something’s making you really angry, but the timing isn’t appropriate to unleash your anger at the moment, schedule it. Chances are, when the window rolls around, you will have calmed down, and you won’t need to use that time block for anger. But, if you do need it, it’s there.
Sitting in the Dark
Some people are just scared to death to sit in the dark with their pain. But the world is hard, and there’s a lot of darkness. It is absolutely fine to acknowledge it and sit in it for a while. It’s not easy to find someone to sit in the dark with you. Other people’s pain makes us uncomfortable. We freak each other out. That’s where a counselor comes in.
One of the positive things people have to say about counselors is that we can stand to be in the dark with people. We’re really good at just sitting in the dark with our clients. Counseling is a place that’s set apart to sit in the dark with people. It’s a divine experience.
Edith Egger wrote, “Hope is not a distraction from the darkness. It’s a confrontation with it.”
I don’t want you to turn the light on. I want to sit in the dark with you. I want to help you face it, confront it. You’re going to make it through. You’re going to be okay. I can believe that for you until you’re ready to believe it yourself.
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