Unraveling shame

I feel it descend upon me like a cloud as I listen to the voices outside my door…

The kids laughing and playing, their dad occasionally responding, dishes clanging in the kitchen as he makes dinner, an audio book coming from the lego room…

 

Shame. 

Deep, dark, heavy. 

 

It envelops me, bringing me back to three years ago.

 

“What is wrong with you?!”

“Figure this out and heal already – your people need you!!” 

“Is this what you want your kids to remember about their mother?! A sickly and depressed woman lying in bed…” 

“And what kind of wife are you anyway… never available to your man – always weak and in need.” 

“All you do is let people down. You are one huge disappointment.” 

 

I know, I know. These voices are mean. And they are also loud.

The worst and most scary one? 

 

“They’d be better off without you.” 

 

I know I need to get out of the dark, to move my body even a little, to fight these lies, to get out of this spiral.

 

One of my sons peaks his head in the door and the light from the hallway pours in.

“Hey Mom. Are you feeling any better?”

 

“Not much yet, but come on in.”

 

He sits next to the bed on a chair my husband had pulled up earlier. 

 

“The first day is the worst. And especially the not sleeping. Then when you wake up the second day you will feel a lot better. And then each day gets better.”

 

“Thanks for the sweet encouragement, buddy. I sure hope so!”

 ---- 

You see, I just have a nasty cold virus that I caught from my kids (feels just like covid but no one talks about this anymore). They are on their second week of the school year and probably caught it from school or from all our recent traveling. I haven’t had a fever like this in a couple years, and I feel awful.

 

But I’m not in severe pain, or another chronic illness, or an autoimmune cascade. My body is doing exactly what is supposed to – fighting off an upper respiratory virus. 

 

Yet the shame still attached with being sick is real and intense. 

I sit up, give my precious son a hug, and decide to walk downstairs to refill my water bottle and connect with my family for a moment. 

 

It’s not long before I’m back in my bed, after hugging the kids, eating a few crackers, and taking some meds. 

 

My husband comes and lays down beside me after tucking everyone into bed. 

 

“You ok?”, he asks inquisitively. 

 

“I don’t know.”, I answer, which sends me into a coughing fit. “I think I feel SO much shame around being sick.”

 

“Oh yeah? Why?”, he gently prods. “You didn’t do anything wrong. You just caught a cold.” 

 

“I don’t know. I guess maybe it’s left over from my illness a few years ago. I just feel like I’m letting everyone down, like I’m a huge disappointment, like who I am is weak and bad.” 

 

I look at him in defeat, tears forming in the corners of my eyes. Another coughing fit ensues. 

 

His eyes are full of compassion as he pulls me close.

 

“You can’t even cry without coughing. You’re sick. We can cancel tomorrow night’s hosting. You are not a disappointment, even if people are disappointed with the situation.” 

 

He tilted my chin so my eyes could meet his. 

 

“You’re ok. We are ok.” 

 

“Thanks babe. I know it’s not logical. But man, shame is hard to shake. It’s hard to move toward. I didn’t even know it was there again until this evening.”

 

He holds me, as we both hope aloud that he doesn’t catch this virus before his trip in a couple days, and that I’m better by then. 

 

I feel the shame lifting, losing it’s power, as I say aloud what I’m feeling inside, even if silly or illogical. 

 

I feel the shame lifting as I interact with my kids and my man. 

 

I feel the shame lifting as I am met with compassion and kindness. 

 

I feel the shame lifting as I turn back toward myself with gentleness and love. 

 

 

It’s now day two. I feel a little better as my son said I would, but still quite weak and pathetic. I canceled a meeting, a hosting event, and a date with my husband today.  I have multiple unanswered texts and emails. I forced myself to get up and stretch, to help my aching muscles and hips, and I ate a few crackers and a muffin. Now it’s 11:48am and I’m ready to go back to bed and sleep. 

 

Can I do so without shame? Can I let someone else pick my daughter from school without a pile of guilt? Can I text the friends I canceled on without berating myself? Can I be kind to me? 

 

Unraveling shame is hard. It can feel so confusing and foggy and impossibly heavy. I’ve got an appointment scheduled to re-start with a counselor – for this and many other reasons. There is still a lot of trauma that lives in my body. 

 

However, I’m learning that shame is best unraveled with compassion and connection.

 

When I let myself be seen by a safe person, when I speak the words inside aloud, when I type them here and let them live outside of my body, when I turn toward myself with any kindness I can muster… it helps. It helps. 

 

*It’s been a couple weeks now since I wrote and experienced this. Wanted to post it for anyone struggling with shame for any reason… may it lose it’s hold. May you be freed as you’re met with love.