Overshare Shame Spiral
That weird place between inappropriate digital overshare and no response
Oversharing is something I have had a tug of war with all of my life - on the one hand I am silenced by fear of saying the wrong / inappropriate thing and on the other hand I overshare and feel shame and panic while catastrophisizing about the possible cascading consequences (that somehow always end with me being publicly ridiculed and rejected - hello judgement my old friend).
I am struggling with this experience at the moment after sending a well meaning but inappropriate, overshare message to a friend. The problem with sending such message (as opposed a face to face interaction) is the lack of context but most of all it is the lack of reply that has sent me into a painful spiral of self doubt, self flagellation and catastrophization.
Chances are, my friend has not replied because they are very busy - I objectively know that if I need to put more than 1 minute brain power into a message it will be procrastinated on but that doesn't stop my mental gremlins taking over. It could be that they do have strong feelings but I cannot predict or plan for those - regardless of how much I try.
My brain is on overdrive trying to 'correct' this situation. It wants to send another message, it wants to delete the original message, it wants to find a framework, advice or will that person into replying to let me know that it was helpful, thanking me for the (unsolicited) advice, allaying all my fears. In short, I am trying to soothe myself.
For one of the first times ever, I've resisted the lure of my brain and written it all down, no holes bared into a journal (digital mind you). So much of the time - I stay stuck in my head but this time, I've poured all of these complicated feelings out through my fingers and on to a white page (not this page - this page is an analysis of my initial analysis - how meta 😂)
I won't say that I feel released from the feelings but I feel a little calmer. Even so, when I think of the message, the waves rise (waves... pah - more like a stab of shame in the heart). I am learning to let them pass by breathing deeply and then sending huge love to myself and to the person I sent the message to. It is helping... I am feeling a little more steady, a little more able to deal with the possible consequences - what ever they could be.
This post, my first in over a year, could compound my fears of rejection but it feels important for me to start writing and publishing again. Re-learning how to pour my incessant swirl of formless thoughts out through my hands, giving them structure with all of the vulnerability and inherent risk that visibility brings. This feels so alien to me after a long, difficult period of my life and a self imposed silence.
So hey there my lovely friends - how has life been and how do you cope with runaway feelings?
Hey Orla.
I’ve felt this many times and can fully relate.
I’m glad you’ve taken the step to write it out. I’ve found the greatest support is in taking it out of our head to begin to deal with it. Journalling is great for this, and while I think digital journalling is good & I’m glad it works for you, I all too often find myself clicking away onto another app or distracted by a notification. Pen, paper, and a cup of tea or coffee with all my tech discarded often helps me the most.
At the back of it all you have to lead with compassion. I’m sure you did so when you texted your friend, and you owe yourself that same level of kindness and compassion. You were trying to support and sometimes that has to take a direct approach. Sometimes the act of kindness is a stern push to the one we love to help them get unstuck.
Mind yourself and be kind to yourself. 😊 It’s great to see you back writing. Keep it coming. 😊
Thoroughly enjoyed this superb piece of writing Orla, my friend you have a gift, and for this reasons and lots of others I too am glad you did the meta thing and then hit Publish. This way, it is out of your head, and has a chance of soothing you AND soothing others.
Which brings me to myself.
And my own unsolicited advice text messages (plural. I see you and I raise you 🤣) to a person who I believed needed this particular form of ‘love’.
I put that in quotes because after the Shame spiral settled... and it eventually did with weeks of self-flagellation, self-loathing, and eventual drip-drip-drip of self acceptance and compassion...
Months later, I realised that this text message to-and-fro was showing me something much more than shame, the experience was asking me to be honest about my needs and my boundaries. I won’t talk about that because the internet servers have limited space. Plus my children can’t wait the seventeen years it’d take me to talk about boundaries, they need to be raised 🤘🤘🤘
It showed me how far apart we were from one another, how very remote they are from me, and I from them. It highlighted the fact that the chasm had been there WAY longer than I had realised, and I was blown away.
That eased the shame too.
Soon after came the question, ‘do I want to continue with this relationship?’ That just fired up the shame afresh of course, because what are we taught to do with a fight? To persist, to fix, to rectify. Out of love, or loyalty, or tradition, or history. Plus we are women, so, ta-daa 🤩enter pressure to ‘be there’ for our friend. Like an episode of the Golden Girls, we are expected to muddle through the disagreements and patch it up in time for the monthly spa day with mimosas.
No.
There will be no spa days and mimosas for this person and I.
There will instead be mornings where I wake without the grind of judgment (mine, hers, imagined) in my stomach, without the instant anxiety of what I’ve done, why I’ve done it, and how I’ll never do it again. I’ll never do it again because that bonkers toxic crazy making drama Queen is (gimme a sec, need the caps on)
NO LONGER IN MY LIFE.
Thank you caps.
No, that person caught the train to Cray Cray where spa days are filled with ‘jokes’ I now see were competive snarling. Lounging about with ‘supportive comments’ from them was in fact a delivery system for poorly disguised insults. The mimosas are heavy on the alcohol content so as to numb the pain of reality, and they barely have the fruit content of a Terry’s Chocolate Orange.
And I wish that person all the luck in the world.
Because first I wished it for me, and in time the shame spiral straightened out and left me with a uncertain sense of peace, peace that is so unrecognizable in its newness that I fear it cannot last.
So one day at a time.
So far, so good.
The train from Cray cray might circle around again, in fact there’s likely a timetable somewhere on those internet servers. But I now have a head and heart that is focused on me.
Went off on quite the tangent there my friend.
All that remains is for me to applaud you loudly and repeatedly for your kindness and compassion towards yourself and the beautiful child inside that you like myself still teach and mind and accept just as she is.
Sending all the healing vibes Orla, you are magnificent.
Nicola xxxx