Healing after estrangement: “Done” doesn’t look like a TV commercial

Healing after estrangement: “Done” doesn’t look like a happy television commercial

This morning, I took a break in front of the television with a smoothie and, within minutes, saw a string of commercials selling solutions as if they were the Holy Grail. They all had the same pattern: the problem, the answer, and the resulting joy-joy.

I know you’ve seen these commercials. The person living with an illness is transformed from someone defined by their diagnosis to someone dancing in the streets. The people yawning and grouchy from lack of sleep, and then the answer. An over- the-counter solution that brings the ZZZs floating in through the air, rested mornings, and no more Mr. Grumps. And then there’s weight. These days, the GLP-1 commercials seem to reign. Again, the images tell the story. Struggle, solution, happiness.

There are variations of course. Sometimes, it’s fear of a problem rather than a diagnosis. Worried about your cardiovascular health? Take a supplement … or use a pocket EKG. The promise is peace of mind.

Commercial after commercial. What looks like quick, easy answers for almost everything.

This pattern isn’t just my impression. Researchers who analyzed prescription-drug commercials found that positive emotional appeals were nearly universal. The ads frequently depicted people regaining control of their lives after taking the medication, and later research found the same familiar visual progression: difficulty and limitation before treatment, followed by happiness, activity, and freedom. In other words, the problem-solution-happiness story is quite literally part of the sales pitch.

Obviously, medications and other treatments can help people. This isn’t an argument for or against supplements, prescriptions, or anything else. It’s the rhythm that struck me: identify the discomfort, apply the solution, and you’ll be happy.

Our world is filled with these messages. Maybe that’s why, sometimes, when I hear from parents, I can almost feel the question behind the question: What’s the thing that will end the hurting? What different action can I take or try?

I understand that urgency. I remember the frustration of wondering how long the pain would keep intruding, and whether I would ever truly feel done with it. When you’ve been hurting for a long time, wanting an answer isn’t weakness. It’s being human. Even so, those who have moved forward and learned to cope may be reminded of their pain and view the rise of difficult feelings as a setback—a problem in search of a fix.

Fighting your feelings

Trying not to feel what we feel doesn’t make the feeling go away. Research on emotional regulation bears that out. I think of the old pressure-meets-resistance image. Try holding a cork underwater. It takes some effort. Stop fighting it, and the darn thing floats. We can expend a lot of energy disliking our emotions or trying not to feel. Sometimes it helps to stop fighting and get more curious about them.

Giving your emotions a place at the table

What is this sadness telling me? Perhaps it’s simple: that there’s something to grieve. Possibly, there’s more within the feelings too. Sorrow over trusting someone who proved untrustworthy, not speaking up sooner, going along with someone else’s plan, or abandoning something that mattered to you. Likewise with anger, fear, guilt, and even hope. They may have longer threads that, when allowed to speak, reveal something worth knowing.

Sometimes, giving your feelings a place at the table—without letting any one of them run the show—can bring deeper self-understanding. And from that can come self-compassion, grace, choices, and healing.

At an upcoming meeting, in an experiential exercise, members will bring emotions to the table. You might be surprised or amused by what these guests look like and bring to the party.

Healing: More than a before-and-after picture

We’ve been trained to go for the quick fix. Even the title of my first book on estrangement, Done With The Crying, might sound as though I’m promising exactly that. Flip a switch, learn the secret, and be “done.” But just as the overnight success is a myth, healing after an adult child’s estrangement is rarely a dramatic before-and-after picture. It’s more of a process that unfolds in layers, sometimes circling back through familiar feelings in new ways.

You may understand something intellectually before you feel able to accept its reality. Similarly, you may feel strong and “done” for months and then be surprised by a photograph or an unexpected encounter that stirs up tears. You may finally stop doing one thing that has kept you stuck, only to discover another habit or way of thinking you hadn’t realized was there.

Over time, you learn, adjust, and practice. You put your energy into what you can influence instead of exhausting yourself where your efforts don’t work. Incrementally, you change. That doesn’t mean the process can’t be helped along. Good information, useful tools, and support from people who understand can help you make sense of what you’re experiencing, recognize patterns sooner, and avoid spending so much time circling the same painful questions. That was one of my aims in writing Done With The Crying. Not to promise an overnight transformation, but to offer a clearer path through territory that can otherwise feel bewildering and lonely.

That kind of progress doesn’t fit in a short commercial. You might not go from reading this article to immediately dancing in the street. Real change is usually less obvious. With patience, awareness, and a bit of grit, you stop interpreting every difficult spell as a return to square one. You recognize how far you’ve come.

The problem-solution-happiness pattern may sell products, but it’s not reality. It’s a simplification that leaves out the muddy middle of continued effort, awareness, and the process of falling … and getting up again. In essence, that falling and getting back up is the process of life. Learn, try, fall, and adjust. Then get up and start again. We knew this as babies. It’s the same process now.

Ultimately, the inner work is ours to do. But we don’t have to do it without guidance, tools, or support. The work of processing isn’t as enticing as an easy fix, but gradual momentum gained via many steps and shifts over time takes you forward. Being “done with the crying” doesn’t necessarily mean you’ll never shed another tear. Sadness, anger, fear, guilt, hope, or any other feeling can have a place at the table without taking your seat at the head of it. After all, you’re hosting the party.

Related

Coping with estrangement: Carrying your ember forward

Parents of estranged adult children: Pack your emotional toolkit

References: 

Klitzman, R., Chung, W., Maki, J., & Davis, J. (2018). An updated analysis of direct-to-consumer television advertisements for prescription drugs. Annals of Family Medicine, 16(3), 211–216.

Gross, J. J. (2002). Emotion regulation: Affective, cognitive, and social consequences. Psychophysiology, 39(3), 281–291.