The Power of Shame

It’s all a bit of a blur for me, really. I recall being in the usual place at around 18:00 in the evening at the industrial unit where I worked, spraying kitchens. Sat in my van, crying into my hands, wondering how I would survive another day. I remember just crying hysterically, knowing that I had the noose tied and swinging from the rafter in the unit already. Looking back, it makes me laugh. People had been in the unit and seen it just hanging there. Some had questioned it, which I skillfully batted away, while others would just not say anything. Friends, family, and postmen all turned a blind eye. Did they care? Did they know what to say? What did I want them to say?

And that’s the problem. No matter what anyone said at that moment, it wouldn’t have made it better for me. This is a common issue in today’s society, and I don’t want to diminish the progress this country has made in recognising mental health. It’s a sign of hope, a promise of better understanding and support for those who need it. However, the blanket virtue signalling we see from big corporations, local community groups, and even friends and family, that it’s ‘okay not to be okay’ and ‘anytime you need to talk, we’re here’ is not enough. What we genuinely need is genuine support and understanding. How many of them are truly ready to listen without judgment, without feeling the need to fix it, or without excusing the feelings of the person who’s trying to understand the pain?

What kept me from putting that noose around my neck and watching the world turn dark?

Shame.

And it fills me with shame that the reason I decided to carry on wasn’t my beautiful wife or my three exceptional children, nor was it my friends, family, or the harsh reality that for me, once the light goes out, my time is over. It was the unimaginable shame that I would bestow upon myself, my family, my friends and my legacy. The unbearable idea of others thinking I wasn’t strong enough or man enough to carry on, that I couldn’t just talk to them, or that I could stop feeling sorry for myself. I hated myself then for the power shame holds over me and still does now.

“The people I seek acceptance and unwavering love from have never given themselves a chance to look within and ask who they truly are.”

What I found really difficult in my growth over the past few years is the shame I feel from those friends, family, and community members who hold that power over me, their societal judgment a heavy burden. The very ones we are told are here to support us are the ones who judge us and are unable to look at the world from anything other than a brain fog of what is culturally acceptable and what generations before them have forced into their unconscious bias. The people I seek acceptance and unwavering love from have never given themselves a chance to look within and ask who they truly are.

And I do understand why most will never look inside and try to find who they really are. I carry the weight of my past daily, particularly my teenage years of misogyny, homophobia, casual racism, and a complete lack of awareness of my privilege. The realisation of this privilege and the responsibility that comes with it is a journey I continue to navigate today. With the growth comes a lonely space of pain and unanswerable questions.

My frustration with the people in my life who are unwilling to change to meet my needs has been one of the most challenging aspects of this self-reflection journey so far. However, I’ve come to understand that it’s not my job to change them. This realisation, though difficult, has led to significant personal growth. More importantly, it has underscored the importance of self-acceptance. My acceptance of them has been built on the fact that the whole system is built on pitching sex, race, culture, sexuality, class and everything else against each other to keep the powers that be on top.

I’m aware of how broad and sweeping that statement is, but it’s a struggle many of us can relate to. How can we expect people to find the time to look inside when we are constantly bombarded with news of the next threat amidst the media’s fear-mongering and relentless struggle to provide for our family. The shame I feel for attending a weekly therapy session for £70. At the same time, I continuously struggle to put food on the table for my family, which is enough to make me want to drop everything I’m trying to do with myself and fall back into the culturally accepted norms of my society.

So, I bring it back to the title of this post.

“Why ‘It’s Okay to Not Be Okay’ Isn’t Enough”

You owe your family, friends, colleagues, and fellow humans more than that sweeping comment. You owe it to yourself to make time to understand yourself and your beliefs and to cultivate the ability to listen with empathy, compassion, and understanding. This allows you to hold the judgment that arises in the same hand as curiosity. You can not do that without doing the work for yourself first, which includes self-reflection, introspection, and learning to be more empathetic.