Illness-related Shame

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“I’m ashamed,” Martin told me, looking away.

Although many of us equate them, shame and guilt are different emotional animals. We feel guilt for doing something wrong or for failing to do something right. In contrast, shame is less about behavior and more about self-definition. Meaning, while we may feel guilty for what we did or didn’t do, we feel shame for who we are.

“I’m disabled,” he explained. “Had a motorcycle accident a couple years ago and broke my back, shattered my left leg and suffered head trauma. Ever since, I can’t do nearly as much.”

“What bothers you the most?” I asked.

“Having to depend on others. I’m the fixer and doer type, or I was, and now it’s on my wife and kids. Before the accident, I was this strong, go-to guy. Now, I feel weak and dependent. That makes me ashamed, even though the accident wasn’t my fault.”

Nancy found herself in a similar conundrum, but her physical challenge was breast cancer. She struggled with feeling like “damaged goods” and “defective.”

“When people ask how I’m doing, I sugarcoat it,” she explained. “I know it’s irrational, but I’m ashamed to share how beaten down and broken I feel. I don’t want this cancer to define me, but it feels like it does,” she told me.

When stricken with a chronic or serious illness or a disabling condition, depression is common. But, when shame is present, the potential deleterious impacts escalate. What’s more, research shows illness or disability-induced shame is common. The culprit? Primarily, societal attitudes toward disease or infirmity in combination with, oddly enough, a fear of compassion among those stricken with physical limitations.

Now, the word “compassion” carries many positive connotations. However, when ashamed of one’s self due to a health challenge, receiving compassion from others sometimes has the opposite of its intended effect. Help or concern from family and friends can inadvertently reinforce a stricken person’s sense of being burdensome, defective and even pitiful.

“My best friend checks on me frequently,” Martin shared. “But, I avoid him sometimes, because I know he’ll ask how I’m doing. He wants to have my back, and I appreciate that, but it makes me feel worse.”

“My friends and family call and message me a lot, but I put off responding to them. It’s like I don’t want to connect because the conversation always ends up being about my cancer,” Nancy explained. “It makes me feel small and abnormal.”

Avoid Making Matters Worse

This bob-and-weave approach to contact with loved ones usually makes matters worse, fostering social isolation and a dearth of meaningful connections with others. Folks like Nancy and Martin are trapped in a proverbial Catch-22, caught between wanting or needing support, but feeling worse about themselves when they receive it.

Of course, not all people with health challenges feel shame. Many make peace with their limitations and feel grateful and sanguine when support from others is forthcoming. However, our cultural obsession with health, beauty and self-reliance often makes this mindset hard to embrace.

What to do? Usually, it helps to candidly disclose one’s shame to trusted confidants. Unless friends and family understand the dysfunctional scenario in play, there’s little hope of changing it. When Nancy confided in her best friend, this proved a breakthrough.

“I let her know I didn’t want to focus on my cancer, that I needed to just feel normal,” she explained. “She understood and let me decide when and how much to talk about it.”

Martin took a similar approach with his family, with an emphasis on affording him opportunities to be as independent as possible. For both of them, being forthright pushed back against the modus operandi of shame—hiding one’s issue or struggle from others.

To persist, shame relies on remaining in the shadows. When, through self-disclosure to trusted loved ones, we bring it into the light, its power over us ebbs.

For more, visit philipchard.com.