Foreboding Joy and Gratitude

Alright Lymies, this is a tough one. Even three years into remission, I continue to struggle with foreboding joy. A two-and-a-half year battle against chronic illness will do that to you. At some point during my treatment, joy became non-existent. I forgot what it felt like. Joy was just not something I was allowed to have. Instead, it was replaced with foreboding joy, an endless trap of perceived danger and non-existent threats that lead to more trauma. I never would have imagined that foreboding joy and gratitude went hand in hand. What’s more, I practiced it without realizing it. I’ll explain later.

During my recent hiatus, I listened to a Brene´ Brown podcast with Susan Cain. While listening, I was struck by a conversation they had about foreboding joy and gratitude. Foreboding joy wasn’t an emotion I had a name for until that day. My heart began to leap with recognition…I knew foreboding joy!! I had lived foreboding joy for years. In fact, I’m still ensnared by it to this day. The good news is, there is an antidote for foreboding joy. Gratitude. I’m certain you will be well familiar with foreboding joy. But gratitude can be hard to come by when living with a chronic illness. Let’s dive in!

What is foreboding joy?

Brene´ has her own definition for foreboding joy. I translate it as originating from a fear of being let down. Foreboding joy sneaks in and snags any opportunity for joy, over and over again. Truly, my foreboding joy entrapment came long before I was diagnosed with Lyme disease. The arduous days of treatment only served to further ingrain this emotion into my psyche. I feared joy because I had been let down so many times by my illness. At some point, the idea of feeling joy became an omen of failure, disappointment or physical/mental harm. What’s worse, I began to believe that I didn’t deserve to feel joy. I felt that someone as sick as I was couldn’t possibly be allowed to feel joy. If I did dare to experience joy, surely I would come plummeting back to reality only to be annihilated by defeat, disaster or failure.

Dress-rehearsing failure

A particularly cruel aspect of foreboding joy is the preparation for failure. This is what we fear will follow if we seek out joy. Brene´ calls this ‘dress-rehearsing tragedy.’ I did this a lot!! Most often my dress rehearsals included conjuring terrifying images of physical harm. Later in my treatment, when I was regaining some physical abilities, I would imagine terrible, incredibly unlikely scenarios.

The trap of ‘what if’ scenarios

Early in my treatment, my husband and I were invited to a birthday party for an old friend. Joy began to whisper at the edges of my mind in anticipation of this rare outing. Do I dare get excited?! However, before I could sink into the comfort of that joy, protection from vulnerability set in. I’m sure I’ll be too dizzy to go that day. What if I’m too nauseous and can’t get out of bed that day? I could have a terrible reaction to the non-paleo/non-organic foods I’ll eat that day? Worse yet, what if I have another unexpected bout of explosive diarrhea? I couldn’t handle that embarrassment. The possible ‘what if’ scenarios were paralyzing.

I remember the night before I was to go skiing for the first time post-treatment. Lying in bed awake that night I wondered to myself, what if I fall off the ski lift and crash to my death? I would actually see it happening in my mind’s eye and recoil from the imagined impact. Often, I could almost feel the pain from an imagined broken femur escaping my flesh.

My husband and I started going for short, easy hikes in the woods. I was so excited and prepared for joy yet I would find myself wondering, what if I go for a walk and get eaten by a bear?  A gruesome, bloody image of my body being rent apart would flash before my eyes. More than once I actually abandoned the joy of a pleasant walk in the woods due to this dress-rehearsed tragedy.

A backwards cycle of foreboding joy

I have come to think of foreboding joy as a kind of trauma trap. These horrible, disastrous images flashing my brain would evoke actual trembling and a racing heart. This is particularly true when I allow foreboding joy to work backwards. This happens when something disastrous almost happened but didn’t. Rather than experiencing the joy and gratitude of a near-miss, I remain trapped in the near-trauma event and finish it out with a different ending. A disastrous one. In this way, my body remains in a heightened state of foreboding joy, never allowing closure. Let me give you an example.

The trap is laid

Recently, I had to go to the dentist for a crown preparation. Let me preface this by saying that I absolutely hate going to the dentist. I know, most people do, but I spend days beforehand stressing about the coming discomfort and fear of harm. However, this time I felt prepared. I was almost cocky about it. After all, I have been spending hours in therapy learning tools to deal with this type of stress. I had this! I was going to sit in that chair cool as a cucumber. I’m a badass! Well, that’s not exactly how it played out.

I was doing pretty good, staying calm, until I saw that huge needle full of Novocaine looming towards my mouth. I felt the short but sharp pain as it plunged into my gums and my heart was off to the races. Even with my heart racing, I was still doing pretty good at staying calm. I remembered to breathe through my nose and reminded myself to walk through the fear. I checked in with my body and knew that it was feeling fine. There was no serious pain or danger, it was all in my mind. I was in good hands. Then the near-miss occurred.

Near-miss scenarios

The doctor had been drilling away at my back molar for some time. I was walking through that fear and keeping my breathing calm when I felt a chunk of something bounce off the back of my throat. Reflexively, I jerked to avoid choking on this foreign object spiraling down my throat. My dentist immediately stopped and pulled the instrument out of my mouth. He asked me what was wrong and as I looked up at him I saw the fear in his eyes. He moved his hand over his heart as if to calm himself down and acknowledge his fear-racing heart. While I calmed down for a minute he stepped out for a second. In those seconds, as he gathered himself to continue, the possibly disastrous outcomes began ricocheting in my mind.

Oh my god, he could have drilled a hole into the side of my mouth! What if he had sliced my cheek wide open? I never would have even felt it! My cheek could have been a gaping, bloody slab of meat hanging from my face and I wouldn’t have known. Nurses would have been rushing in with emergency medical equipment to stop the bleeding and sew up my face. I would have a huge scar for the rest of my life because I jerked. The look on the doctor’s face, he was terrified. I’m a terrible patient. I hope he doesn’t fire me as a patient. He looked so angry. I feel so bad. I could have ruined everything!!

Moving into gratitude

This replaying of horrible scenarios continued through the evening. Every time I “relived” this event my heart would race as though it actually transpired. I was shaming myself and at the same time remaining trapped in a horrible disaster that never occurred. Finally, I took a deep breath. I sat in my body, my healthy, whole body, and reflected on what actually happened. In that moment, I processed through the foreboding joy and moved into gratitude.

Gratitude

I knew that I needed to move out of the fight or flight cycle I was in that evening. Not only that, but on top of the undue stress of rehearsing a tragedy that never happened, I was embarrassed and shaming myself for my knee-jerk reaction to a perceived threat. My face was actually flushed with humiliation. I had to process this event and move forward.

As I sat there, taking deep breaths to calm my racing heart, I made myself replay what actually happened. The first thing I saw was my dentist deftly avoiding any injury to me. he had moved so quickly, it was inspiring. Immediately, my heart swelled with gratitude for his adroitness. I was in awe of his skill. Then, I felt his dental assistants reassuring hand on my shoulder. I heard her telling me over and over again, with the most soothing voice ever, how great I was doing. The love and compassion emanating from her presence at my side was overwhelming. In a matter of about 12 seconds I had processed this event, moved out of foreboding joy and into gratitude. My heart was overflowing with gratitude and a broad smile erupted on my face. (Enough to make me grab my cheek and wince at the pain from my new crown.)

Gratitude can feel like joy

 In her book Atlas of the Heart Brene´Brown, describes joy as, ‘the good mood of the soul’. She goes on to define it as, ‘an intense feeling of deep spiritual connection, pleasure, and appreciation.’ I totally understand if right about now you’re thinking, “how the hell am I supposed to experience joy while my body and mind are under constant assault.” Trust me, I get it. I found that during my treatment I longed for joy.

Reflecting on those darkest of days, those days in the beginning when fear lurked around every corner, I remember gratitude being my substitute for joy. When I was feeling particularly vulnerable, (which was often at night while I was trying to fall asleep but instead conjuring images of suffering through the next day) I would list off everything I was grateful for. It was also a great tool for relaxing me into sleep…

I love my husband so much and I’m so grateful for all that he does for me. I’m grateful for my mattress. My Ollie dog cuddled up next to me is so comforting. I’m grateful for the roof over my head keeping us dry and safe. I love these sheets, they’re so soft and cozy. I’m grateful for the yummy meal I ate tonight and the sustenance it provided. I got so lucky finding my doctor, I’m so grateful for that. I’m grateful for the nurses at The Bridge Medical Center. I’m grateful for…

Gratitude is the antidote to foreboding joy…and leads to joy

Foreboding joy and gratitude go hand in hand. It can feel like joy or lead to feelings of joy. As I would lay there listing all that I had to be grateful for, my soul was in a good mood. A spiritual connection was made between my mind and my body. Pleasure was felt in the comfort of my home and family. And, appreciation was abounding. A smile would even whisper across my weary-burdened face. Often, I would even wake up the next morning with a cheerier than usual disposition.

Keep fighting Lyme warriors! In the midst of your battle, joy may not come easily and it may come wrapped in a different package. But, you can experience joy through gratitude. I would love to hear from you about your experiences with foreboding joy and if gratitude helped you to move through it.