“No matter what you’re experiencing, it will eventually pass. You won’t remain sad eternally. At some moment, happiness will return to you. You won’t remain anxious indefinitely. In due time, a sense of calm will come back to you. There’s no need to battle your emotions or feel guilty for having them. Simply accept them and be kind to yourself as you navigate through this. Resisting your emotions and criticizing yourself will only bring more pain, which you don’t deserve. You are worthy of your own love, acceptance, and compassion.” ~Lori Deschene
A daily cry is all it takes. This four-word mantra has been my shield for over ten years.
“I always weep at least once every day,” I jokingly tell a new colleague as she stares in disbelief while tears stream down my face. She is astonished that allowing me to cut in front of her in the bathroom line sparked such an emotional reaction. I reassure her that my tears aren’t “bad” and it’s not her “fault.” Actually, crying often becomes my reflex to relatively trivial, fleeting moments.
No matter the feeling, whether it’s happiness, gratitude, surprise, fear, sorrow… whatever, I will cry about it. This inclination to cry isn’t something I just started; it’s been part of me for as long as I can remember. I now understand that I was born with a disposition towards emotional sensitivity; however, as a child, I wondered, “What is going on with me?!”
The first instance of being overwhelmed by emotions that I remember was the day my younger sister came into the world.
At six years old, my mom was expecting her fourth child. I was tired of being the female patty wedged between two male slices of bread (my brothers), and I daydreamed about having a baby sister. On September 14, 1995, Mimi, Aunt Sheila, Eddie, Joe, and I gathered around the dining room table in my childhood home in Southern California while my parents were at the hospital.
I (im)patiently anticipated the news that would change my life, and after what felt like an eternity, the phone rang. Aunt Sheila answered and joyfully exclaimed, “It’s a girl!” She took my small hands, and we danced with excitement.
Suddenly, I realized something strange… I was sobbing. What was happening? I thought I wanted a little sister?! With tears cascading down my cheeks, I gazed up at my aunt with wide eyes and asked, “Why am I crying?” Aunt Sheila knelt down, smiled kindly, and assured me that my tears were not the “bad” kind—these were tears of joy.
This moment confirmed for me that there are various types of crying and, more significantly, underscored a deeper personal truth: I am a highly emotional individual. I don’t think I have overly sensitive tear ducts; my crying is a tangible expression of my feelings. Those tears guide me—my emotions direct my path.
High sensitivity is a trait many people hold, particularly therapists. “Being in touch with my emotions is a positive thing,” I remind myself during my daily cries. “It’s why I can perform the work I do.”
Growing up, my emotional sensitivity shaped my everyday experiences, mainly because intense emotions usually relate to thoughts, physical sensations, action impulses, and behaviors. Big feelings can resemble a tornado sweeping me away. At times, the ability to genuinely feel these emotions is exhilarating. Who wouldn’t want to be the girl who tears up while bouncing with joy because she’s thrilled to hear Whitney Houston’s 1987 classic “I Wanna Dance with Somebody”?
Although tears can result from nearly any emotion, I often cry in response to less pleasant ones. These challenging feelings exist on the flip side of the girl who is ecstatic because a compassionate person let her cut in line for the bathroom. Unfortunately, humans cannot select their emotions, so I get the desirable ones along with the undesirable ones.
At some moment in high school, “one cry a day” transformed from a mantra into a goal: to cry only once in a twenty-four-hour period. Such emotional sensitivity became overwhelming for my self-conscious teenage self. The intensity of the feelings was now coupled with embarrassment and shame.
I felt I was maturing too much to react so emotionally to “trivial” situations. An ongoing internal dialogue told me that everyone else around me exhibited more self-control. My struggle with my emotions clearly indicated that something was terribly wrong with me.
Experiencing a daily emotional rollercoaster was draining—intense highs were swiftly followed by crushing lows. By the conclusion of high school, I discovered ways to navigate these emotional fluctuations through behaviors that spiraled into an eating disorder.
In the next two years, these quick fixes morphed into compulsive obsessions, steadily increasing in frequency; eventually, I depended on the eating disorder rituals to function because, without them, the emotional weight of my daily life became too overwhelming.
In college, I found it challenging to leave my room, attend classes, or socialize with friends without the assistance of my little companion E.D. (short for eating disorder). Upon realizing that, despite my desperate efforts, I couldn’t halt these behaviors, I reluctantly opted to consult a campus counselor.
Through weekly cognitive-behavioral therapy (CBT) sessions commencing in my sophomore year of college, I learned that the eating disorder wasn’t predominantly about food or weight; it was a method of coping. CBT revealed to me that my perceptions and emotions regarding myself influenced my actions.
Even after a year of CBT, my grasp of my emotional sensitivity and the eating disorder remained limited. I still engaged in disordered behaviors occasionally, with relapses corresponding to stress levels, and following a tumultuous move to New York City—nearly a decade after my eating disorder first surfaced—the occurrence of disordered thoughts and actions surged to a debilitating peak. E.D. had triumphed in the decade-long tug of war; my reward was intensive treatment for the eating disorder.
During treatment, I was introduced to a transformative approach: dialectical behavior therapy (DBT).
American psychologist Marsha Linehan (1993) devised DBT in the early 1990s as a treatment for women diagnosed with borderline personality disorder (BPD). DBT fuses behavioral sciences with Zen practices, suggesting that emotional dysregulation is at the heart of pathology.
Although I viewed myself as in tune with my emotions, DBT revealed that I was actively avoiding and resisting them, which intensified my painful feelings. This avoidance led to a continuous undercurrent of emotional overload, resulting in heightened behaviors—the persistent cycle felt unbreakable and overwhelming.
The principles of DBT resonated with me, offering a compassionate understanding of my emotional fragility and the intense shame tied to my sensitivity. Throughout treatment, I cultivated new ways to bear and manage emotions, ultimately enabling me to break the unyielding cycle I felt entrapped in prior to treatment. I learned to navigate the waves of my feelings.
While the scope of this blog post does not permit me to share all the incredible insights I gained in treatment and as a therapist, I want to highlight my five favorite skills derived from DBT and Acceptance and Commitment Therapy (ACT). ACT complements DBT, emphasizing the importance of not battling our emotions.
1. Stop and observe.
When powerful feelings surge in, it’s time to take a pause. Reflect on what’s occurring within you.
Inquire: What emotion am I feeling? What physical sensations are present (like that tightness in your stomach or rapid heartbeat)? Where do I detect these sensations in my body? What thoughts are dominating my attention? What are my instincts urging me to do?
Keep in mind, the aim isn’t to precisely label your emotions; it’s simply to pause and take notice. This enables you to make choices instead of letting emotions dictate your actions. Initially, this can be quite challenging as it may feel like you’re caught in a whirlwind of thoughts, sensations, and urges. Continue practicing—it becomes easier with time.
2. Describe without judgment.
Express your internal experiences using objective, nonjudgmental terms. It’s akin to speaking aloud to a neutral observer.
For example, say, “I’m having the thought that things are challenging,” or “I’m sensing a pounding in my chest.”
Remember: When we feel emotions intensely, we often want to judge ourselves (i.e., “I shouldn’t feel this way!”). Try to catch yourself when you label your experiences as “good” or “bad.” Such judgments often fuel emotional reactivity. By sticking to factual observations, you take steps to regulate your emotions.
3. Practice “defusion.”
Defusion is my favorite skill from ACT! It’s a term that describes how to create distance between our internal experiences (thoughts, feelings, physical sensations, memories, images) and our identity.
When guiding clients, I encourage them to visualize their emotions as colored sunglasses. When they experience a strong emotion, they view the world through that lens. Defusion involves removing those sunglasses! You actively observe your emotions (like a scientist studying a lab experiment) rather than looking through them (like someone with tinted glasses seeing a distorted version of reality). Many defusion techniques exist, but I suggest starting with this one:
Say, “I am feeling… [insert any emotion, mad-lib style].”
By identifying the emotion as separate from yourself, you begin to “defuse it.” In other words, stating “I’m feeling the…” helps you step back and creates space between you and your emotions. This simple action can diminish the intensity of the feeling.
4. Let go of the struggle.
Visualize this: your emotions resemble waves in the ocean. Attempting to alter or evade them is akin to trying to halt the waves. It’s exhausting and ultimately futile. Letting go of the struggle involves stopping the fight against your thoughts and feelings. Rather than resisting or distracting yourself, embrace these inner experiences as part of the human condition.
By releasing the struggle, you permit emotions to simply exist. It’s not an easy feat, but it’s incredibly freeing. You prevent emotions from amplifying and retain control over your reactions.
5. Act according to your true desires.
Your emotions may instruct you on what to do next. But what do you genuinely want? This is where values come into play. Values serve as guiding principles, reflecting what you aspire to embody. When your actions align with your values, you experience a sense of direction and fulfillment. Identifying your values helps you discern the steps to take, especially when intense emotions arise. It’s akin to having a customized roadmap for navigating life’s emotional ups and downs.
These skills have benefited me immensely, and I hope they prove useful for you as well.
# Five Practical Strategies to Handle Emotional Overwhelm
Emotional overwhelm can feel like a tidal wave, sweeping in and making it hard to think clearly or function efficiently. Triggered by stress, anxiety, or life transformations, handling these feelings is essential for mental health. Here are five practical strategies to assist you in navigating emotional overwhelm.
## 1. Mindfulness and Meditation
Mindfulness is about being present in the moment and acknowledging your thoughts and feelings without judgment. Engaging in mindfulness can provide clarity regarding overwhelming emotions. Techniques like deep breathing, body scans, or guided meditation can ground you, enabling you to observe your feelings instead of being overtaken by them. Regular practice can improve emotional regulation and lower stress levels.
## 2. Journaling
Recording your thoughts and feelings can be a powerful way to release emotional tension. Journaling allows for articulation of your experiences, which can clarify your emotions and lessen their intensity. Consider setting time aside each day to write openly about how you feel or use prompts to explore particular situations that provoke feelings of overwhelm. This practice can also assist in recognizing patterns and triggers, leading to more effective management strategies.
## 3. Physical Activity
Participating in physical exercise is an effective method to counter emotional overwhelm. Exercise releases endorphins, enhancing mood and decreasing feelings of anxiety. Whether it’s a brisk walk, yoga, or a more vigorous workout, moving your body can help clear your mind and instill a sense of achievement. Aim for at least 30 minutes of physical activity on most days to enjoy the emotional benefits.
## 4. Establishing Boundaries
Often, emotional overwhelm arises from taking on excessive responsibilities or lacking personal space. Learning how to say no and set clear boundaries within work, relationships, and commitments can help safeguard your emotional energy. Examine your current responsibilities and prioritize what truly matters to you. Communicating your limits to others can encourage healthier relationships and reduce stress.
## 5. Seeking Support
Don’t hesitate to seek support when feelings of overwhelm become too heavy to manage alone. Discussing with friends, family, or a mental health professional can offer relief and perspective. Support groups or therapy can provide a safe environment to examine your emotions and develop coping strategies. Remember, reaching out for help is a mark of strength, not weakness.
### Conclusion
Effectively managing emotional overwhelm demands a blend of self-awareness, proactive measures, and support. By integrating mindfulness, journaling, physical activity, boundary-setting, and seeking support into your daily routine, you can more adeptly navigate overwhelming emotions. Each individual may discover various practices that resonate with them, so it’s vital to explore and identify what works best for you.