Shame: an all-consuming emotion

As somebody who is fascinated by the nature of subjective experience, counselling feels like something of an intuitive calling. Ever the seeker of the truths that determine our experience of life in the world, it provides a unique opportunity to observe, to collect data, and, in time, to be able to draw conclusions from the things I hear, see and feel on a daily basis.

One such tentative conclusion which has begun to take root for me over the previous few years is as follows: that often what we believe to be 'the' problem, be it depression, anxiety, or addiction, for example, could be considered in and of itself a symptom of something far greater, far deeper and far older.

But because it is at once deeper, older and more fundamental to our view of ourselves, it is also far more difficult to perceive, identify and work with. And yet it is this core experience that so often underlies the many ways in which so many of the clients that I work with struggle. I speak, of course, of shame.

What is shame?

Shame is a profound and often deeply felt belief that there is something fundamentally wrong with us and therefore with our lives and the world at large. For some of us, it is the air we breathe, the lens through which we view ourselves and the world, colouring and tainting everything we think and feel, informing every action we take.

Whereas guilt is a feeling of regret for what we have done, shame is regret for who we are. If left unchecked, it eats away at us, contributing to emotional and physical difficulties, keeping us stuck in old ways of being, depriving us of our capacity for joy, and removing the possibility for real connection and love.

Where shame may come from

Usually originating in childhood, shame has strong links with trauma, especially in how it manifests in our nervous system, for some leading to a near-constant state of fight, flight or freeze. This could show up as hyper-vigilance and anxiety, rage and violence. It might also manifest as numbness, dissociation and shutdown.

Or it may be more insidious, sneakier, more pernicious, making its presence felt in our very attempts to overcome it: through perfectionism, compulsive achievement and a ceaseless pursuit of the validation of others that we believe, somewhere, must hold the key to true happiness.

Or finally, we try to bypass it completely. In recovery circles, addiction is often referred to as a fear-based illness. I believe that shame can play a significant role here. It may be that the extent of any given addiction, be it alcohol, substances, gambling, sex, or any other behaviour we use compulsively, even where we know that behaviour is harming us and those around us, may be connected, in part, to the shame it may be attempting to escape.

You don't, however, have to have experienced serious trauma to suffer from chronic shame. Mis-attunement from caregivers, arguing parents, sibling and peer rivalries, belonging to a minority group within the wider society; these all have the potential to develop into a view of ourselves that is based on the supposition that we are the problem, a supposition that is at best deeply uncomfortable, and for many of us absolutely intolerable.

When an experience is intolerable in this way, our bodies and our minds do incredible things to protect us. And this is where things get interesting.

What if depression, anxiety, and addiction, far from being the root causes of our struggles, were actually ways we have developed to protect ourselves? What if the numbing effects of low mood, the heightened stress of constant worrying or the warm oblivion of addiction were actually ways of keeping us safe from a deeper, more fundamental pain? What if it is this in and of itself that is where the hope of a different way of being lies?

Working with shame

That's all well and good, but then, what can we do if we find ourselves in the grips of shame?

Broadly speaking, two things need to happen: first, we need to cultivate an awareness of our shame, to experience it directly. For most of us, this is a process that takes time, effort and a great deal of courage. It requires a slow and gentle peeling away of layers: the anxiety, the depression, the addiction and beyond, to the experiences of hurt and rejection that have fundamentally shaped us. To say that this isn’t easy is something of an understatement. It hurts. It can, at times, feel like risking oblivion. 

The second is to begin to share our story, to allow our shame to be seen by others. Shame thrives on secrecy, and so we carry it alone. And when we carry it alone, we are vulnerable to believing the things it tells us about ourselves, that we are uniquely broken, beyond hope, that if we show ourselves to others, nobody could ever, possibly understand or accept, much less love, us.

It goes without saying that to take this step we need to ensure a high degree of safety, which is why a secure therapy relationship based upon mutual trust can be such a beneficial – but by no means the only – context in which to do this work. When we are able to share our shame, those parts of ourselves that we keep hidden so much of the time, we discover that far from being alone in this struggle, we are in fact deeply and fundamentally united.

Over time, as we bring awareness to our shame and allow it to be met with care – whether within therapy, through trusted relationships, or in moments of reflection and connection with the world around us – we begin to notice subtle shifts. Life does not suddenly become free of difficulty, but a new kind of space opens: a space where we can move more freely, feel more deeply, and encounter ourselves and others with curiosity rather than fear.

In that space, even the smallest steps toward understanding, acceptance, and connection become signs of progress, and a quiet hope that change is possible begins to take root.