Is Emotional Pain Necessary?

Is Emotional Pain Necessary?

This is the question posed by today’s NPR piece, which talks about a recent change in the American Psychiatric Association’s new Diagnostic and Statistical Manual of Mental Disorders, or DSM. The proposal is to remove the “bereavement exclusion” from the guidelines for diagnosing major depression. In other words, if one’s grief is severe and lasts too long, it should be treated like depression. How long is too long? In the words of the article:

“ . . . if symptoms like these [acute upset, loss of sleep, appetite, energy and concentration] persist for more than two weeks, the bereaved person will be considered to have a mental disorder: major depression. And treatment, either therapy or medication, is recommended.”

TWO WEEKS?!!! ARE YOU KIDDING ME?!!!

Are we, as a culture, so afraid of feeling the depths of our emotion that we would choose to medicate the pain of grief as soon as two weeks out from a major loss? It seems ludicrous to me.

After losing my son six years ago, my journey of grief (which I chronicle in my award-winning book The Deep Water Leaf Society) took at least TWO YEARS and in many ways continues even today. Were there days that I would have liked to take a pill and make the pain stop? Yes. And if I had, would I have learned and experienced all that I did and healed so completely? I think not. For me expressive arts, journaling and dreamwork allowed me to honor my pain, learn from it and heal by moving headlong into my pain, not running away from it.

It is the conscious journey through our grief that creates healing. In my opinion, if you stuff it down, ignore it, drown it in alcohol or happy it up with Prozac you will miss the meaning, the lessons, the growth that come from being real about how it feels. I learned more about myself and let go of more useless baggage during those two years of healing than I had in my entire life up to that point. I am a better person because of my loss and because of the very real pain it caused. Had I numbed the pain with Prozac, I know my loss would not have created the same level of positive personal transformation.

I am reminded of Kirk in Star Trek V: The Final Frontier. When the mysterious mystic Syvok wants to take away everyone’s pain, Kirk is the only hold-out while everyone else is all silly with nirvanic joy. “Damn it, Bones,” says Kirk, “you’re a doctor. You know that pain and guilt can’t be taken away with a wave of a magic wand. They’re the things we carry with us, the things that make us who we are. If we lose them, we lose ourselves. I don’t want my pain taken away! I need my pain!”

I’m with Kirk on this one.

It’s not that we should choose to live in the depths of that pain permanently. And certainly if someone becomes suicidal or is completely unable to function for long periods of time there may be some call for intervention. But to put an arbitrary timeframe on how long it should take to process the pain of grief is ridiculous.

TWO WEEKS?!!! I don’t think it’s we grievers who have a mental disorder. I think the authors of the DSM should have their own heads examined!

Reveal thy Radiant Countenance

What masks are hiding the shining brightness that is you?

In this life, we hide behind many masks.

When we grieve, we often feel we must hide behind a smiling “I’m okay” mask, sensing that our friends, family and other associates are not comfortable with the depth of our pain. We are not comfortable with their discomfort and the responses triggered by that discomfort, so we put on the mask.

Sometimes, we even try to hide the full depth of our grief from ourselves. Fearing its power, we are not willing to risk drowning in a bottomless well of tears. We are not willing to sit with our pain on its own terms. So we find a way to suck it up or dam it up. We put on a mask.

The paradox is that by not honoring the truth of our pain in the moment, we are at risk of internalizing and unconsciously identifying so deeply with it that it develops a life of its own. Some, including Eckhart Tolle, have called the unconscious internal energy that develops the Pain Body.

The Pain Body can take over, masking our true identity, tricking us into believing that pain is our reality or our identity. We think we are wearing an “I’m okay” mask, but it is the Pain Body that’s really masking our own true Light.

The Sufi poet Hafiz said, “I wish I could show you, when you are lonely or in darkness, the astonishing Light of your own Being.”

That is also my wish for you. May your own Pain Body be dissolved, may the mask fall away, and may you reveal your true radiant countenance to yourself and to the world.