Hi Pia. Sorry if this is too weirdly parasocial but idk anyone else who I know would know about this: you've been talking here recently about the idea of people not being able to accept comfort because it hurts and it made me think. I've had some things happen this week and day that sent me spiraling a little, so I purposely decided for like the first time to reach out to friends during a crisis moment, well soon after, and they were just wonderful and kind but I don't feel better, I just feel sick and worse I guess. So I guess my ask is what would it be like to receive comfort in a 'normal' way? maybe this is why ive loved your writing for so long without being able to pin down why. if this ask is too weird feel free to ignore no hard feelings
So I guess my ask is what would it be like to receive comfort in a 'normal' way?
I think the main thing is to ask yourself what you want from the experience.
What feelings did you expect, and do you think they could potentially come over time?
For example, if you're not used to reaching out or opening up, you're not necessarily going to feel great the first time you do it, because there might be a lot of fears around doing it in general, and how other people will react, and also potentially overthinking the encounter afterwards.
That doesn't necessarily say anything about how "bad" your friends are at providing support, it just says that you're really out of practice with doing something, and also might have had some expectations about yourself and what you expected yourself to feel.
There's no real normal with this stuff, but folks who reach out for support might look for a lot of different things - they might want to just know that someone else knows what they're going through, they might feel warm inside that someone cares about them, they might feel grateful that their friends care about them, they might feel less alone, they might be looking forward to returning the favour one day, or they might still feel really sad and upset and scared about what they're going through, but at least other people know now and can potentially reach out in the future.
Most of the things we go through in life no one else can magically fix for us (unless it's a cavity and you see a dentist). This is especially true for the emotional stuff. The point of support isn't always to have feelings magically transformed, but to just...have choices, and options, and also have more reciprocal connections to people. Sometimes support helps in ways we don't feel at the time, but then become meaningful to us later. Receiving support once or twice might not feel like much, but over time, if we do it more and more, one day we look back and realise that we have support around us.
It's not really about a "normal" way of receiving something, and it's also about asking yourself what it means to be comforted. Opening up to people isn't "being comforted" by default. It's actually sometimes the opposite of comforting to open up to people even if they are kind. It can be frightening, and it can bring scary emotions to the surface. Comfort + support don't always go hand-in-hand!
For example, I can open up to a friend about hard stuff, I'm probably not going to feel super comforted because I doubt that friend is going to be actively comforting me in the moment. For me, comfort is often more tactile and it's a lot less about what someone is saying. I find hugging friends comforting. I find it comforting to share a meal or feelgood show we both love together. And that feeling for me, is fluid and changes, but ultimately is something that leaves me feeling a bit more settled than I did before seeing that person. I feel a bit more comfortable in myself.
Sometimes we expect opening up to the people around us - when we aren't used to it - to do too many things at once. Opening up about hard stuff and getting kindness or support is not comforting by default. And sometimes, it's the opposite of that. But that doesn't mean we don't still benefit from it sometimes. In fact, the fact that it doesn't often feel comforting is why many of us don't like to do it. It's hard!
So, anon, I think it's important to maybe sit down with some paper or your notes app and just...brainstorm how you want to feel when you're comforted, and then the things that you've done in your life for yourself that have made you feel that way (and if you don't do those things, then...start practicing), and if any people or animals have brought you that too. Or any media, even. There's definitely comforting media out there in the world.
The most important thing is that you're already on the path and starting. There's nothing wrong with you and you're not abnormal if, after opening up to folks, you don't feel comforted after. If I open up about cancer treatment to friends, and they support me, I still have to go through cancer treatment after, and nothing they say stops that. But at least I shared it. And that interpersonal connection is not just ultimately good for me in the long-term (it's how we build community for a start), it's good for them too, it gives them a window into me and who I am, it gives them an opportunity to get closer if they want that, and vice versa. Not just through the fun things, but also through the other things, too. (And whether or not that's safe to do will depend on like, a lot of factors, some people it's just not safe to open up to because they're just not supportive/caring people).
As to feeling comforted / receiving comfort, it can take time and practice, it can depend on factors like how hard you're masking around other people (high masking makes it hard to access intimacy around feeling comforted), or how much you're prioritising their comfort over your own, or worse, to the detriment of your own. It is a skill we learn over time, if we're not used to it, but the good news is we can start or pick it up again after any point. And, hell, some of us prefer to offer comfort to ourselves, others prefer it in big groups, some prefer it with their pets, there's no one right way of doing it.
It sounds like your expectations for reaching out were maybe a little too high, which can happen in downward spirals anyway. And you did something new, a lot of people feel sick/worse after trying something new, they worry they didn't do it right, they worry it's not as much fun yet as they wanted it to be, it doesn't align with what they imagined (let's be real, imagining yourself as an awesome artist is very incompatible with the first time you do art and realise you kind of suck at it, in fact it's often a really crappy experience for some of us! But the only way to become an awesome artist is to...suck at it for a while - this applies to most things, including things like...reaching out for support, etc.) -> You can see then how it's actually very normal to feel a bit crappy after trying something you're not used to, that takes time to build skill in. Emotional stuff does not get an exemption from this! But the fact that you tried? HUGE. Because we can't get through to the other side without the trying.
A good thing to try, anon, is to also reach out specifically when you're not in a downward spiral, and practice when you have a lot more energy and capacity to look out for what you might need in the moment. You can also practice alternative ways of support offering, like asking people what they need, what helps them feel comforted in a friendship etc.
As to the writing, I write a lot of characters who have to practice receiving support and comfort, in that a lot of the time it's fully available to them and they just can't...open up to that. In A Stain that Won't Dissolve, Alex has three people looking out for him when he gets a bad virus. He gets physical comfort and care from Sebastian, he gets a lot of care and support from Haley, and of course from the doctor. He has people giving him advice, looking out for his needs re: food / drink, and taking care of him.
But because of where Alex is at in himself, he mostly just feels guilty and worthless and like he's put people out and/or like they wasted their time and that it was "just a cold." It's not that the support and care isn't there, it's that Alex is out of practice and unskilled in learning how to accept and think about this stuff. The whole story is a trajectory in learning 'it's okay for me to accept and even ask for support' and 'it's okay for me to practice feeling good while this is happening' and 'it's okay to lean on people.' And sometimes Alex doesn't feel better after! The time he cries in Jodi's lap, for example, it's not like it erases how terrible he feels in the moment. BUT...it has a cumulative effect.
These things, they add up over time. Just like we don't erase trauma with 'one big cry,' we don't attain ultimate comfort through one vent session to kind people, it adds up over time. And that can suck, when we're starved for something, and we really hoped we'd get it in that moment, but...that's rarely how life works. To be an awesome artist, we practice drawing. To be awesome at receiving comfort, we practice receiving it! And to do that at all, you have to imagine, or daydream or think about what you want that to look and feel like, in the same way that we have to think about how to make our favourite foods.
I think you're doing awesome, anon.
