Anxiety and depression are often symptoms of buried core emotions.
Healing involves processing emotions caused by childhood wounds and traumas.
Mourning for the self is a healthy part of recovery and not self-pity.
Mourning for the self honors the pain of what we went through and often precedes access to the openhearted state of the authentic self.
Robert, an adult in his 50s, had been processing the early emotional neglect and abuse that led to his low self-esteem and a decade-long depression. Using the Change Triangle as a guide, we had processed his rage, fear, and disgust. With my support and his courage, he felt his way through each emotion: naming it, validating it, sensing it physically, and allowing it to flow up and out through his body. As the wave of each core emotion rose then fell, Robert experienced relief, mastery, and newfound clarity.
The most surprising part of this process for Robert, however, was the deep sadness that spontaneously emerged alongside relief, lightness, and growing self-confidence. In accelerated experiential dynamic psychotherapy (AEDP), we call this phenomenon mourning for the self.
Mourning for the self is healing in action. Fully feeling the core emotions that stemmed from his past traumas, Robert developed a profound understanding of how much he had suffered. With that acknowledgment came deep sadness for what he went through.
Some people confuse mourning for the self with self-pity. Merriam-Webster defines self-pity as “A self-indulgent dwelling on one's own sorrows or misfortunes.” That is not what mourning for the self is about. Self-pity stands in stark contrast to AEDP’s definition of mourning for the self which is "grief for the self, a painful but liberating experience of compassion for the self."
Processing core emotions the way we do in AEDP requires a compassionate stance towards ourselves. Many people struggle with self-compassion. When I first met Robert, he had disdain for his emotions and his inner child parts. When I coached him to approach himself with radical compassion and acceptance, he said things like I hate that part of me for being weak and I blame myself. I should have been able to escape.
I asked him, “Would you ever blame your son if a teacher or other adult mistreated him?”
He retorted with an emphatic, “No!”
“Why not?” I asked.
“Because he is innocent and just a helpless child. He deserves to be seen, loved, and treated well.”