Guidepost 3: Cultivating a Resilient Spirit; Letting Go of Numbing and Powerlessness

Numbing & Powerlessness

I became a mother for the first time at the onset of the Covid-19 pandemic, which was not the ideal time to embark on this journey. Without a choice in the matter, I was cut off from three crucial practices I needed to build resilience in this new chapter. Immediate help was unavailable, social support was nonexistent as everything was shut down and friends and family were out of reach due to the need to maintain household bubbles. I’m a ‘with people’ type of person and the lack of these options made it difficult to share joy with others or enlist the many hands needed to keep things running smoothly—like someone to handle laundry or sort baby clothes while I took a much-needed rest.…the list is endless with an infant. Thankfully, my engineer's mindset kicked in, and I tackled the problem head-on. I started journaling, which became one of the best habits I've ever developed. I also leaned into video calls, connecting with other new mothers in similar situations and scheduling daily calls with my mom to keep me company while I grabbed a shower (particularly with a baby needing a lot of physical contact). These strategies helped me navigate the isolation, but they also highlighted the emotional toll of the pandemic. I empathise with fellow first-time mothers during the pandemic. We all needed different kinds of support but were involuntarily cut off from the world. Not to mention the constant worry when anyone dared to breathe or sneeze near our little ones. I met the "grizzly bear" in me for the first time as a mother—who knew I had it in me! I now look back wondering who the heck was that!

Anyway, back to the point. I recall grappling with a sense of hopelessness. I was disappointed by the difference the virus made in my first few months as a parent. The friends I made in prenatal classes were out of reach, and I missed the opportunity to be around them and our babies together. It was a battle to remind myself that I could easily slip into depression if I let hopelessness take over. I had to find a way to cultivate hope despite feeling powerless about how my motherhood journey began.

I vividly remember my baby at two weeks old, crying incessantly at 2 a.m., despite being fed, dry, warm, and held dearly. I felt a deep frustration that I tried to attribute to exhaustion. I couldn't understand why the so-called "joy" of motherhood was nowhere to be found when I needed it most. The frustration grew exponentially, and I marched downstairs to where my mum was sleeping and left the baby with her—I couldn't take it anymore. Five hours later, she returned the baby for a feed and I had forgotten the 2 a.m. debacle until we took a walk later and she asked how I was. I flippantly replied I was fine until she specifically brought up the 2 a.m. incident. I couldn't articulate how I felt at the time. Four months later, as similar nights happened, I still couldn't understand the strange sensations I experienced. It was then that I decided to learn more. Dr. Gabor Maté's book "When the Body Says No" was a revelation and marked the beginning of a journey that continues today. Shockingly, I discovered how adept I had become at numbing practices, coupled with a sense of powerlessness—a lethal combo!

Without getting lost in the discoveries made over the past four years, I realised that one of my survival strategies was getting lost in television. I'd complete my tasks and disappear into a series, unconsciously numbing myself. I didn't realise that numbing weakened my resilience. As you numb the "negative" emotions, you also numb the "positive" ones. Suddenly, it made sense why I struggled to feel the "joy" of motherhood—I hadn't immersed myself in those experiences to draw from during difficult times, like the 2 a.m. debacle. This is why I couldn't express how I felt the next day. I wasn't one to lean into the discomfort of hard emotions; it was more natural to dismiss them and focus on the next task.

There are many behaviours we engage in to numb or dull emotional discomfort: binge eating, binge-watching, video gaming, substance abuse, gossip, shopping, compulsive scrolling—the list goes on. While they offer short-term relief, over-engaging in these habits as a survival response often leads to disconnection, long-term emotional suppression, and even addiction. It's crucial to embark on a self-discovery journey to identify your numbing strategy. Allow yourself to explore difficult moments, sit with them, and ask tough questions: What was going through my mind? What did I do as these thoughts raced? At what point did I dismiss any emotions or feelings? The goal isn't to judge but to understand the unmet emotional needs beneath these behaviours, increasing emotional tolerance and teaching self-regulation skills. I don't do this for fun—it's because I'm now conscious that my children are always watching. They learn from how I react in every moment. Whatever habit I normalise, albeit unconsciously, becomes normalised in them too.

Research shows that emotionally unavailable or detached parents can lead to children feeling neglected, impacting their emotional development and ability to manage emotions later in life. Long-term effects can include low self-esteem and difficulty in parenting, as they replicate the emotional detachment they experienced. As a parent, I understand the effects of numbing and recognise the need to break any cycles inherited from my parents for future generations.

Resilience

Resilience in simplicity is the ability to return to a previous state after something difficult. It’s the ability to return to a previous good condition after a problem.

Ah, the universal human experience: life's ups and downs. We toss around that phrase like confetti at a parade, offering each other a sprinkle of comfort and recognition. Yet, even when facing the same challenges, our resilience is as unique as our fingerprints, shaped by our upbringing and those rare moments when life decides to be a bit more generous.

Now, while the simple definition of resilience might suggest we can bounce back to our former selves after a tough time, I beg to differ. Life's little curveballs change us. We learn, adapt, and sometimes, we even grow. From a young age, we all face adversity; the only difference is the magnitude. Take, for instance, two kids born on the same day to parents who are either workaholics or addicted to something else entirely. Their experiences might sound similar on the surface, but dig a little deeper, and you'll find a world of difference.

For parents, resilience is not just a nice-to-have; it's a must-have right from the moment you realise you're expecting. Especially for mothers, because let's be real—getting that baby out is no walk in the park filled with rainbows and candy floss. Vulnerability, pain, shifting birth plans, and partners who might be a bit clueless—that's the reality. Yet, amidst all this, hope remains. Everyone around you—doctors, midwives, doulas—is hopeful, and that hope carries you through.

Once the baby arrives, a whole new adventure begins. You might find yourself tested at 2 a.m. or juggling a newborn with other kids. This is why being emotionally attuned to yourself is crucial. I didn't grasp the concept of a healthy emotional environment until I became a parent, and it felt like joining a marathon mid-race, hoping to keep pace. As a parent learning to navigate emotions, I know it's a challenge. But it's better to join the race late than to perpetuate harmful cycles.

Take my go-to numbing behaviour: binge-watching. I pay extra attention to how I feel and how my kids are doing when I reach for the remote. If they've had a big fight, I hold off on the TV, giving them a breather before we sit down to talk about what went down. I learn so much about them during these chats—how they see each other, the blame game, and how I respond to their stories. Sometimes it flows, and other times, they're just mad I turned off the TV. That's my cue that we've overdone it. My kid Oz, in particular, gets sucked in easily. Not that TV is evil—everything in moderation, right? But it's important to recognise your numbing habits as a parent and see if your kids are picking them up. It helps them develop critical awareness and self-regulation strategies. Being present with their emotions and articulating what's happening is key, and as parents, we need to be aware of our own emotions too. This builds emotional tolerance and shifts us from avoidance to connection.

I know from experience that not every day ends with me feeling like a parenting rock star. Sometimes, I slip back into old habits I wish I could erase. But I remind myself that I'm not alone—millions of us are on this journey. Our ability to engage with the three elements of self-compassion helps us improve daily and stand strong against anything that tries to undermine our resilience.

An inspirational quote by Elisabeth Kübler-Ross: “People are like stained-glass windows. They sparkle and shine when the sun is out, but when the darkness sets in, their beauty its revealed only if  there is a light from within.”