Body Wisdom #6: Hot flashes, shame and sugar

I've been having a hot-flashy bunch of mornings, waking up at 3 or 4 or 5 because I'm TOO HOT.

I'm discovering for myself an interesting correlation between the hormones that make me flushed and feelings of shame.

Shame is a hot emotion for me. It starts with a funny feeling in the pit of my stomach: an uncomfortable, unsettled, roiling feeling that spreads up my chest, arms and face in a blush of heat and colour. Shame-faced, as they say.

For me, hot flashes feel a lot like shame. The only difference is that hot flashes don't start with that feeling in the pit of my stomach.

What's particularly interesting to me is that days when I'm having a lot of hot flashes also seem to be days when I am more likely to do or say something that causes me to feel shame. I've been wondering about how the mechanics of that work. Do the hormones make me more likely to say or do things I could feel ashamed of, or do they make me more likely to feel shame about something that I have said or done?

After much consideration, I think that what's going on here is that my discomfort is acting as a catalyst for my behaviour and the ensuing shame. Hot flashes are uncomfortable. So are many other peri-menopausal symptoms, like depression, down-spiralling self-regard, lack of sleep/fatigue or feeling like you're about to burst into tears for no reason. I also believe that a heightened sense of "not belonging" might be a peri-menopausal symptom, in the same way that it is often an adolescent one.

I think it is a pretty basic instinct to discharge discomfort by pushing it away: sending a harsh email or flippant text, making a mean joke, gossiping – essentially making one's own discomfort be about someone else.

Last week, for instance, I told a joke that seemed funny in my head, but landed with a THUD. And then the other day, I found something slipping out of my mouth that – well, if someone had said something like that to me, I would have felt so angry and judgmental. I realize now that both instances were knee-jerk reactions to feeling like I didn't belong. Both times I felt very ashamed afterward – afraid that I had been insensitive or inappropriate and either hurt somebody's feelings or ticked them off or just simply acted like a real jerk – like someone I don't want to be.

Both times I went and ate a large amount of chocolate afterwards.

And then I felt better. Well, I felt less ashamed. I did feel physically queasy, so it's probably more accurate to say that I felt both better and worse at the same time.

Making the connection between sugar and shame felt enlightening. I suppose since shame is the fear of not belonging/being loved and eating sugar simulates feeling loved and comforted for me, it makes sense that eating sugar would soothe my feelings of shame.

Sugar is a bandaid.

Sometimes, bandaids come in handy. They are great at temporarily protecting an open wound. But what I've been thinking more and more is that the hope of healing those wounds lies in leaning in to my discomfort and doing a better job of owning it.

This is a rocky time for me, and also a beautiful time – a beautiful, rocky time. I feel lucky to be where I am, to have the option of a lot of solitude and quiet and space to be where I'm at. And when I'm in a situation where I feel uncomfortable or like I don't belong, I am encouraging myself to lean into my discomfort, to breathe and to own that I feel how I feel and that that is okay, that I am still safe. And when I don't feel up to doing that, I am giving myself permission to step away – or to burst into tears – or more likely, to step away and then burst into tears.

This is going to be a struggle for me. It will require me to be much more vulnerable that I'm comfortable being. I hope I can accept myself where I'm at and feel compassionate for myself moment to moment. In all of these beautiful, rocky moments.

Night sweats and marble jars

I'm having one of those peri-menopausal nights when I can't stay asleep because I can't stay comfortable. I'm too hot! But I'm not! But I am! But I'm not!

It's the usual temperature in my bedroom, but under the covers, I'm boiling and then when I kick them off, I'm too cold. So, forget that. I'm not one for trying to sleep when I can't. I'd rather be up and doing something interesting. 

This morning, as I often am lately, I'm thinking about Dr. Brené Brown's work. I did a free e-course a couple of days ago called The Anatomy of Trust. The course centres around a talk Brené filmed for Super Soul Sundays (one of my dear friends sent me the link last month and recommended I watch it. The video forms the central part of the course; if you're interested in watching the video without doing the rest of the course, you can watch the video here). 

Dr. Brown breaks trust down into seven components that fit into the catchy acronym: BRAVING.

Boundaries

Reliability

Accountability

Vault

Integrity

Non-judgment

Generosity

Since Brené Brown's work is based deep in grounded theory research with data gathered from thousands of participants, I find it no surprise that her take on trust rings absolutely true to me. 

If I consider the relationships where I place a lot of trust, I can think of instances where each of those seven components have been enacted. And in situations where I have experienced a lack or loss of trust, this model helps me understand more clearly what happened. 

What does this have to do with a jar of marbles?

Dr. Brown talks about a "Marble Jar" that was used as a classroom management tool by one of her daughter's teachers. If behaviour was appropriate for the classroom, marbles went into the jar and if behaviour was inappropriate, marbles came out. When the jar was full, the class would have a celebration. 

The concept of marble jars strikes me as an excellent one to explain trust and human relationships. 

However, it seems to me that Dr. Brown talks about the marble jar as if the jar belongs to the individual – as if a person has one jar which various people put marbles into and take marbles out of.

I think I see it a little differently. I think each relationship (including the relationship each of us has with self) has its own (mental) marble jar. And each participant in the relationship can put marbles in (contribute to the relationship) or take marbles out (disengage from, betray or damage the relationship). This can get pretty complex, but I think it works this way – for instance for a family consisting of two parents and two kids, that a family has a jar for the whole family and there are also separate jars for each relationship within the family (Parent1– Kid1, Parent1–Kid2, Parent2– Kid1, Parent2–Kid2, Parent1–Parent2, Kid1–Kid2 and probably even Parent1–Kid1– Kid2 and Parent2–Kid1–Kid2 and then jars for each individual's relationship with self). The relationships are interconnected – some actions affect the entire family at once, others affect a sub-set or an individual.

There is a temptation here to see relationships strictly in terms of quid pro quo – you do this for me, I'll do this for you. While I think that if we are honest with ourselves, there is a transactional component to every relationship, I don't think the marble jar concept is best used to simplify things down to that level. I don't think the concept is very helpful as a scorekeeper, but I do think it is useful as a barometer. And also as a tool for communication – a way to help people visualize their perceptions around behaviour and the way it affects relationships.

If people in connection with one another view their relationship as a co-creative endeavour, ideally, each person in the relationship is interested in contributing to the jar (in ways that count for the other or others) so that the relationship feels satisfying for everyone involved. 

What counts as a marble?

I believe there is some delicate work here around understanding what each person feels is a contribution or a withdrawal. The whole "Do unto others as you would have others do unto you" idea, is actually not as useful in relationships as "Do unto others as they would have you do unto them." People are put together differently and have different boundaries and expectations. I believe great relationships are founded on a desire to learn about one another and build mutual understanding, care and acceptance.

I recently read a blog post someone posted on Facebook about how some guy's wife left him because he wouldn't put his used drinking glasses in the dishwasher. As the writer himself admits, he finally figured out, too late, that those used glasses in the sink made his wife feel unseen and disrespected. So every time he left one out, he was taking a marble out of their shared jar. While, on his side, he felt that every time she complained about those drinking glasses, she was being unreasonable, stupid and annoying and taking a marble out of their shared jar by making his life needlessly less pleasant.

Often, there is simply a failure to understand another person's marble code – one person puts a marble in, thinking they are making a contribution and the other person fails to recognize it  – or worse, sees the other person's contribution as a deficit. 

Another common dynamic is unequal contribution. If one person feels like they are putting in way more marbles than the other person, they may come to feel depleted and decide to leave the situation. It can work the other way around, too, where the person with fewer marbles to contribute leaves a relationship because they feel overwhelmed, judged or resented.

I think marble jars can get too full as well as too empty. Sometimes the weight of expectations or of obligations can be just as damaging to a relationship as disregard, disinterest or an out-and-out betrayal of trust.

Marble Jar Relationships

I have to say at this point in my life that I think I have personally experienced a vast array of relationship marble jar failure: too little investment, unequal investment, waning interest, apathy, misplaced or unrecognized marbles, plundering, jars that cracked and then broke due to over-filling, initial contributions that were later clawed back (sometimes with interest), and the classic, "I'm taking all of my marbles and going home". A few times, I've hurled a marble jar against a wall and walked away, and a few times, someone else has done that to me.

I have also had a number of marble jar successes. I have relationships (some life-long, others dating back as many as 35 and some within the past 5 years) where both people are committed to contributing marbles to the jar. There have been challenges to work through – places where we have disappointed one another in one of the 7 BRAVING trust areas, and places where we have worked things through with accountability and integrity, built or repaired trust and continued with our process of being in relationship.

Self-trust is the root of all trust

For me, one of the biggest take-aways from this idea, is the importance of self-trust. The e-course I mentioned above includes worksheets for trust in organizations, with another person and with oneself. I found the self-trust inventory enlightening. I feel pretty solid in some areas and much shakier in others. I'm going to keep that inventory on-hand for difficult moments. When I'm not sure what to do, or when I've just done something I feel ashamed of, I am encouraged by the thought that I can bring myself back to the BRAVING framework to build and/or repair self-trust.

I'm also percolating an idea about how I might be able to use an actual physical marble jar as an exercise with self-trust, but as this blog post is already pretty long, I think that will have to wait for another post.