A Self-Compassion Exercise

Hi readers.

First off, a HUGE apology to anybody who has been following my blog regularly. I haven’t posted in quite a while. Don’t worry – I’m fine. Health-wise, and all that. Nothing bad happened.

Summer got busy. Life happened—competing priorities. Chalk it up to motivation fizzling. I am human, after all. But I’m not throwing in the towel yet. Not this guy!

So here I am, trying to re-kindle my motivation to return to regular blog posting…I think this one will be a good start.

How many of you have been practicing self-compassion and self-kindness lately?

This post is dedicated to anybody who has struggled in the past. Or is struggling right now. Below, I detail a self-compassion exercise I recently did which I found to be very impactful and healing. Maybe you will, too.

Background

I’ve always had difficulty directing compassion toward myself. Since my IBD diagnosis, it became even harder. Empathy toward other people – no problem. But toward myself, for whatever reason, I often find it very hard.

Some time ago, my counselor suggested that I write a self-compassion letter to work on this. More specifically, I should address this letter to the “me” of a few years ago when I was really struggling. 

Recently, I was thinking how it has been almost exactly three years since I had my awful health crisis…three years since I was in really terrible shape – physically, mentally, emotionally, spiritually. I had been so sick for so long, and felt like I was at the end of my rope. Going through that experience definitely left its mark.

Even now, after lots of un-packing the trauma, I still occasionally find myself returning back to the terrible memories of that time. I wouldn’t call them flashbacks…but they are unpleasant and come with a host of distressing emotions. It seems to happen less than it used to. But it is still tough. I find words of self-compassion can assist in countering those feelings of fear and self-criticism. And help me center in the present.

The exercise

I recently did a self-care exercise which I found really fulfilling and therapeutic. In some ways, it allowed me to honor the “me” who was struggling immensely 3 years ago. And reflect on how far I’ve come.

It started with a ½ hour walk. The whole time, I focused on imagining that I was in a room with the past version of me who was really suffering. Looking at that person. Talking with them. Interacting with them.

In my head, I pretended to have a conversation with that “past me”.

In my case, I pictured myself trying to comfort the “me” who was in a hospital bed. The person alone in a dark room, writhing in pain, suffering. Terrified. Deathly sick. Wanting it to end. Wanting to die. The me who was at the absolute lowest point of my life.

I tried hard to think about: What would I say to that “past me” if I could? What would I do? What did I need in those moments that I didn’t receive at the time?

So I went for the walk. I focused entirely on having that imaginary conversation. Nothing else.

Afterward, I took 10 minutes to quickly jot down some of my thoughts and reflect – How did I envision this imaginary encounter? What did I say to my past self?

Comforting my past self

Below are my notes on how I saw the conversation in my head playing out. What I said. What comfort could I give to this imaginary “past version” of myself?

I would wrap my arms around that “past you” who is suffering. Hold you and bring you close. I would tell you that nobody truly understands what you are going through – But I do.

This version of me (3 years later) understands you. And acknowledges your suffering. I know what it feels like. I see you. All of you.

This me sees through that darkness. And loves you.

You are a good human being. You don’t deserve this. Nobody does. You are worthy of love and compassion. As much as anyone.

You have always been worthy. And always will be – regardless of the people you have let down, or the things you did, or wish you did or didn’t do.

You are going to be ok. In time. I know, right now, those words seem meaningless. In this moment, you can’t even fathom “being ok”. The hurt is too much. I understand that. But things will get better. I promise. They won’t be perfect. But they will be better.

Know that your life is important. Believe you still have a role to play in this universe. To help people. To make a difference.

You have people around you who love you. All they care about is your well-being. They would do anything for you. I’m sorry that all they can do right now is look at you with sad eyes and palpable worry. They are afraid too. I’m sorry nobody held you tight.

This is a moment of great suffering. And suffering is part of being human. Yes – you were dealt some crappy cards in the health and suffering department. But you are not to blame for that. You did the best you could. You are doing the best you can. You have been through so much.

You have permission to love yourself. You have permission to hope.

Let go of the guilt and the shame and the blame. And the hate. Just try to let it go. Bit by bit. Treat yourself with the same compassion you would give to a loved one or friend was hurting. Or a child that was hurting. Or a wounded animal.

Just be gentle with yourself. Hold on. And keep holding on. Keep breathing. One step at a time. One breathe at a time. Allow yourself to dream that things will get better.

Making room for self-compassion

So that was the conversation I had with myself.

I’ll admit that I’m not always able to give myself the extreme self-compassion like I did in the exercise above. I don’t always feel that way. There are days when I find it hard to love myself. But I continue to work at it and make it a part of my life…even if it is just a few short words of self-affirmation every day. And it helps.

When dealing with IBD, or any chronic illness for that matter, it is important to practice unconditional self-compassion and self-love. As often as you can. I hope to re-visit that exercise in the future.

Self-compassion is frickin hard. For some people (like me), it often doesn’t feel natural. And it’s a constant process. It also takes work. But it is worth it, because it can help you build resilience and self-acceptance.

So if you have experienced trauma. Or have suffered. Or are suffering right now – I challenge you to take a few minutes, go for a walk (if you are able to), and have a gentle conversation with the “you” that is suffering. Give that person some kindness. Say some nice words. You may be surprised at how affirming and healing this can be. You may be surprised how it makes you feel.