If the financial headlines are correct, our country may be on the verge of a long downhill slide into economic ruin. Or maybe not; I’m not the one to ask. But I do know that fear is in the air in Santa Barbara as more and more people — our friends and clients both — are expressing horror at the possibility of losing their homes, defaulting on credit cards, closing their businesses or getting laid off.
Realistic or not, these images create anxiety. The atmosphere around the house can get charged, as a result — and by that I mean more than just the garden-variety snappiness or hyperactive planning that comes with an overdue mortgage payment or a budget out of control. Financial ruin (real or imagined) brings a burning sense of mortification so extreme that, for some, life is barely worth living.
Mortification is an emotion we mostly suffer alone, especially when it’s connected to something so deeply tied in to our self-worth, social status and security as our money. We may generalize it into a sense of shame about who are. “It’s linked to who we think we are, deep down” is how psychologist Harriet Lerner describes this kind of primal embarrassment about ourselves, “we are unlovable … if only they knew.” And in the deepest recesses of our unconscious, being unlovable means being alone. This, then, is part of the panic — an irrational fear of being abandoned and alone.
Ironically, at these times, we retreat from those we care about, build a barrier to keep them out of our embarrassment, and in the process we become even more miserable and alone. We get cranky with them when they approach. We fear their judgment. We share their judgment, in fact, that we have failed them and failed ourselves. We would rather turn away from them than see our failures reflected in their eyes.
So, shame can be a precursor to the end of a marriage or relationship. Too much anger and withdrawal from one partner — most likely the bread-winning partner, if the crisis is financial — and the other just goes away. She decides to be happier somewhere else, with someone else, or just to live alone.
But something else can happen, too. Because failure deflates our pretentions and dampens our drive to be separate and special. This can leave us newly open to nurturing and love — especially the love of the significant adult in our lives. Picture your partner right now as he or she was when you fell in love. Remember the thrill you got from knowing that this amazing person seemed to need your love. That need for love may go underground over the long years of a relationship, but it doesn’t go away. In times of crisis, it can surface again. If it can be accessed and expressed — if two people can let each other in on their loneliness and desire for connection — then a shift can occur. And out of the ashes, a new stage of life as a couple can begin.
So what makes the difference between the relationship that gets a new lease on life and one that comes to an end under stress? I would say this: if either partner can still find in himself a true compassion for the other’s suffering, as well as his own, the relationship can be revitalized and renewed. Because compassion creates the space for the suffering partner to express her deepest fears and embarrassment about herself and her future.
So, the cure for our wounded sense of self is to express it to a partner who still has the openness and compassion to hear it. Like any wound, this one stings when you rip off the scab. But it hurts less than you imagine. And the benefits of finally sharing this pain can be deeply connecting and provide tremendous relief.
And it’s exactly this willingness to expose ourselves to our partner — so she can see that it’s hurt, not hate or disregard, that causes us to act so distant or mean — that opens up the possibility of a new beginning in the relationship. What does it look like to open up that way? Here is how one former investment adviser put it through her tears in my office one day: “Honey, I can’t tell you how stupid I feel about this. How ashamed I am to have let you and the kids down — and everyone who believed in me. I can’t face anyone. What must you think of me … what must everyone?” Fortunately, her husband had been waiting for years for her to come back into their lives.
The dark clouds on the horizon may portend some nasty sailing ahead. The gathering financial storm may turn lives upside down and leave destruction in its wake. But for the most devastated couples especially, there is a choice to make: turn to your partner for warmth and protection, or cast off and ride it out alone.
Russell Collins is a Santa Barbara psychotherapist and divorce mediator. Click here for more information.