The paralysis of shame

how chronic shame inhibits creativity

Photo by Julia Joppien on Unsplash

I’ve always had a tendency to downplay and dismiss everything I do. If my poetry is selected to be read at an event it’s because people feel sorry for me, or if work is placed in a competition it’s because not many people entered. You get the picture. The power of my sense of shame has been enhanced during my time on Substack (and no, not because of subscriber numbers – this isn’t one of those posts). During my time on this platform, I’ve seen poets celebrating independent publishing in a way that I’ve never been able to. So great is my shame that my books are not published “properly” that I barely mention them and have only recently begun to describe myself as an “author of two books”. I’m proud of the content of these books, and am told that to have crowdfunded, sourced illustrators, project managed and distributed them is a great achievement. Even the indisputable evidence of raising £700 for charity isn't enough to dissuade my sense of inadequacy. Why do I feel so deeply embarrassed that they exist? The answer is shame. Shame makes me feel that these books, like me, are worthless, and the lack of validation from conventional publishing corroborates this.

Don’t you just mean imposter syndrome?

I’ve previously labelled this feeling as exactly that. Imposter syndrome has risen to the fore in recent years, characterised by fear of being found out and of not being as good as others believe them to be. It’s very real and incredibly debilitating. Shame is different. It’s an emotion, a deep, deep feeling of being worthless, and not good enough. Shame means a hundred people could tell you that you’re good at something shame will whisper, whisper, whisper that you’re not and never will be.

Doesn’t everyone feel shame?

Absolutely. It becomes problematic when it becomes a permanent state. My research for this article explains how chronic shame stems from early childhood, from relational or other types of trauma. Feelings of worthlessness and perpetual self-criticism become part of adult life, impacting relationships, functionality and self-belief. Chronic shame is a paralysing emotion.

How to shift the power of shame

I mentioned above that I’ve felt immense shame that the books I’ve published have been published by my own fair hand, rather that the ink-stained hands of a lauded publisher. This has come entirely from me. The impact is that rather than telling booksellers about my amazing book and the amazing journey it’s had to come into existence, I shuffle in, gabble that it’s self-published and scurry out. It means I feel unworthy to sell this piece of carefully created art, unworthy to dream of putting my work forward as being of any value, monetary or otherwise. Something is changing though. I’m beginning to hear the things people say. I’m beginning to feel proud of what I have done, rather than shame at what I haven’t. During a recent radio interview, I talked with real joy about my work, about what I’ve done and what I have planned for the future. Naturally I had a flush of “I wish I’d said that” afterwards, but whilst talking I know I felt genuine pride.

I’m not sure this feeling will ever leave me – I’m on new medication for Bipolar II and this may have an impact in time. I’m consciously seeking to challenge the litany of negative self-talk that is the soundtrack to every day. I hope to be free of this, but until then I need to accept and work with this emotion and the feelings of vulnerability.

The reason I write is to connect with people. I wonder if by embracing this vulnerable emotion then I can foster a new depth to my work that will resonate more strongly. I wonder if these feelings of shame and worthlessness will chime with people who read my work, and bring a sense that even though you feel pretty awful at the moment, at least you know you’re not alone.

Until next time

Kathryn

xx