Micro-dosing Difficult Emotions: A Gentle Practice for Life After Trauma
Disclaimer: Let me start this off for any new readers by saying I am not a therapist or doctor. I made this all up based on my own experiences in my own healing journey. My regular readers already know: take what serves you, and leave the rest behind.
Photo by Andy Holmes on Unsplash | Thank you Andy for this appropriately curious, yet hesitant little fellow here to demonstrate how I feel about sampling joy…
What is micro-dosing joy?
This is what I call my practice of making space for joy in a small, low-stakes situation on a regular basis.
Why would anyone want to “micro-dose” a good feeling?
When you ask people to consider which emotions they tend to avoid or suppress, a lot of people will immediately think of difficult feelings like sadness, grief, fear, and shame. These feelings are huge, they can be scary, and it’s not an easy process to lean into them and allow them to be processed…
But for a lot of people who have experienced trauma, especially complex childhood trauma where the traumatic event(s) occured not once, but repeatedly, often in cycles where there were times the situation was corrected (meaning safety was restored) and then deteriorated again (became unsafe again), it’s actually feeling good that becomes scary.
Experiencing a cycle of everything being okay (or even “good”) and then suddenly or slowly becoming not okay can create a sense of anxiety and even dissociation. It can leave a person feeling as if the other shoe is about to drop, and this feeling intensifies the longer the “good feeling” continues…
Part of treatment for many complex trauma survivors is a process of retraining themselves to feel safe in times of calm and consistency.
Why chaos feels safer than stability for some people…
For me, chaos is when I feel safest. I know how to handle tough situations, I know what to do in emergencies, I am great at switching into fixer/helper/survivor mode. It’s familiar and once I identify “the problem,” I don’t experience a lot of doubt about my abilities to confront and resolve it. I’m great in a crisis!
But if you give me a period of peace, I will become increasingly stressed out. I will crave a change or something dramatic… and if it doesn’t happen, sometimes self-sabotage will come in and mess something up just for the relief of no longer waiting for some unknown disaster to strike.
During a period of stability, I begin to feel afraid and antsy. I need to see something new, go somewhere new, learn something… I’ll seek out any sort of novelty, face fears, and constantly be trying to learn, seeking a healthy way to feed my need for change — because if I’m not faced with something unknown, I feel terrifyingly out of control. I am always waiting for the storm that my developing mind and body learned was inevitably going to come (and would likely be quite devastating).
You might benefit from micro-dosing joy if happy feelings feel too good to be true.
When faced with questions about which emotions I found myself most resistant to, it wasn’t sadness or grief that came up. In fact, I’m pretty comfortable with these emotions. I lean into them and I know the storms will pass.
(Don’t get me wrong. Some “normally” hard feelings are still hard for me, too. Sadness is easy. Disappointment and betrayal are a different story, but that’s a post for another day.)
Suppressed emotions were one of the first things I wanted to address in my healing journey.
Early in my healing, I recognized that I was suppressing a lot of my emotions, still living in survival mode from a chaotic childhood. I could talk about what I’d gone through and not feel anything at all about it, but I was confused by how sad strangers and coworkers would become. I’d reassure them that I was fine, over it, happy now… but something about their reaction made me wonder if I had missed something.
Trauma survivor if-you-know-you-know checkpoint: I had missed something. I had intellectualized the experiences, thought through them and rationalized forgiveness and ways to move forward, but hadn’t actually felt the losses, pains, and disappointments involved in what I had been through. Being in survival mode gave me this armor or dissociation that protected me from those big feelings so that I could focus on the actions I needed to take in order to survive.
I wanted to be able to feel my emotions… in real-time, not just in hindsight from a safe place where I could reflect once it was all over.
When I did get still, one of the first things I wanted to do for myself was learn to really feel and experience my emotions again. I had a lot of grief and sadness, so I developed a daily ritual of sitting with it… I learned to sit patiently with it, to cry if I needed to, to recognize and express anger and disappointment as it naturally came up in processing a lot of my memories.
Now, I am familiar with the discomfort that comes with sadness. I know how to invite it in for tea, sit with it, and help it move through my body and go on its way. I don’t often avoid it or try to hide it. When I see someone else experiencing sadness, I recognize the struggle and find it easy to connect with them in it and demonstrate the ways I’ve walked alongside it… and I see this sense of safety and connection help them to grow more comfortable with it as well.
In this way, I’ve learned that experiencing sadness and sharing the experience of sadness are safe and even admirable things to do.
This can be done for different emotions, and each one is a little different.
On the flip side, I struggle to experience light feelings like joy, belonging and connectedness, and to have fun… especially in situations where I don’t feel particularly in control. If I am all by myself in a place I know I won’t be bothered, I can find joy in every little detail of life! But the moment there is someone else around or the potential of somebody arriving or a high chance of something unexpected happening, I tend to freeze up… I become observant and more vigilant, waiting for any sign of a threat, a shift in the vibe… waiting for the other shoe to drop…
I’ve intellectualized my way around joy countless times and logically I know it doesn’t make sense to be afraid to be joyful. I know it’s silly not to feel comfortable sharing joy. I know that I am not preventing anything bad from happening by disengaging from games, joking, friendly banter, or simply experiencing a moment as it happens rather than trying to maintain awareness of every emotion, movement, and possible direction any situation could take. But knowing and feeling are two different things and while I know that I am probably safe while floating the river with friends or watching a movie or playing a game of cards, my body doesn’t feel safe and I find it really difficult to sink into the present moment and really be with my loved ones in peaceful times.
Enter: Micro-dosing Joy as a Daily Ritual
This is my way of practicing allowing the feeling of joy in.
Here’s what it looked like for me:
When I recognized that I wasn’t able to feel sadness, I made myself a gentle practice of allowing it in and getting to know what it was like to really feel and honor the emotion. I sat in a quiet space where I felt very safe and I allowed myself to sort of play with the emotion. Sometimes I would draw, sometimes I would listen to sad songs, sometimes I would look at pictures. It was a really gentle, unstructured way of dabbling in the emotion without forcing any expectations or demands on myself… Then, I would share about the experience with emotionally safe people in my life, including my therapist.
Why it worked for me:
Carving out a time to experience and grow comfortable with the emotion in privacy allowed me to really open up without having to fight the panic and activated fight-or-flight response I often feel around other people. It also helped me build trust in myself and demonstrate a sort of maturity adults in my life hadn’t been able to give me… I was able to show myself safety and consistency, and the result was that I felt safe enough to really show my wounds and understand what they needed in order to heal.
Here’s how sharing helped me:
Bringing that private experience to trusted people allowed me to receive validation and to connect with others, which helped me see that I wasn’t broken or ruined. I got to see that I was human and that, while my childhood wasn’t the same as a lot of my friends’, the things I felt and the impact they had on me were universal human emotions. It made me feel a part of my community, rather than separate from it, after having spent most of my life to that point in emotional isolation.
How I originally tried to get comfortable experiencing joy… and why it didn’t work for me.
When I first recognized that I had a sort of threshold for the amount of joy or good feeling I could tolerate, I didn’t approach it with the same gentleness as I approached sadness with. Instead, I tried to leap right off the cliff! (I wrote about it in real-time, you can read it here if you’re curious. The link will open in a new tab, so you don’t lose your place here.) I wanted to throw caution to the wind, overcome my fear of joy, and I wanted to get that chapter of grief and brokenness out of my head for good.
It was a liberating, thrilling experience! Until it wasn’t.
After wholeheartedly embracing joy and essentially blasting through any internal cries to slow down, I crashed. Hard. (Here’s where you can read about that, too.) In the end, I felt more afraid and broken than ever before…
What I’ve learned since then is that leaping from a cliff is an act of chaos! It was a very black-and-white, quick, impulsive way to obliterate a fear that was rooted deeply inside of me… It wasn’t a gentle strategy and there was not much consideration for myself in the way I approached joy in those days. I’m not upset with myself for it, it was a beautiful adventure and a very early-20’s thing to do and I had experiences I wouldn’t trade for anything during that time!
And…
I also see the wound I reopened with that impulsive decision to push and force myself into a new way of experiencing the world with no room for discussion. Now, I understand that obliterating fear isn’t generally something that works well for me. It sort of replicates the ways I was traumatized as a child, with impulsive snap-decisions being made, my world being uprooted, repeatedly, with no regard for the things and relationships I had been growing into. So often, my little roots were torn away from things that nurtured them, to be shoved into new soil in a different environment, where they had to heal and learn to make those first connections all over again.
A more gentle approach to feeling joy (even when it’s scary)…
So, while I love facing fears and overcoming obstacles, I’ve chosen to approach my joy in the same gentle way I approached sadness and other heavy feelings: I am creating a safe and intentional space to experience this emotion… to become familiar with it and to navigate the discomfort it might bring without expectations, and while honoring the needs and wounds that reveal themselves throughout the process. I’m doing this in consistent, patient, steps… and I know that over time, I will begin to trust myself with this experience of joy.
I am also sharing the experience. This time, only in emotionally safe spaces where the nuances of being a human are appreciated and honored.
The last time I leapt into my joy, I shared everything publicly and in real-time. Constantly. I put everything I was so proud and happy about, every brave thing I was doing, all of it on social media and I told my family and friends over the phone.
I created this world around myself where everyone was inspired, amazed, a little worried, and excited about what I was doing… and then every conversation I had came with an expectation of excitement, continuing the high, and sharing any lower point felt like defeat or failure.
It became this detached cycle of maintaining an image because I believed, if I didn’t stay joyful at all times, I would be failing in my quest to obliterate that joy threshold. The perfectionistic over-achiever first-child in me was thriving… sort of. Except that she was sucking the life out of the rest of me.
This time around, I know that I have less trust for quick, big, instantly-gratifying joy. I also know that privacy is an important part of experiencing my emotions and, while part of my goal with this joy practice is to become comfortable experiencing joy and having fun in social settings, I also intend to deeply honor, nurture, and respect the parts of me that need time and a little more sense of control or trust before they open up in that way. I will push myself, but I will do it in ways that are safe and controlled as I lean into this new experience, and there will be no jumping off of emotional cliffs (though actual cliff-diving could be a fun endeavor someday, ha!).
Mindful and creative living often initiates healing naturally.
I’ve already been micro-dosing joy in little ways, somewhat by accident, as I’ve healed through the burnout and trauma that came with my last grand adventure… just through the hobbies I’ve developed and things I’ve pursued as I paid attention to what made me feel safe, where my creativity flowed most easily, and increasing my awareness of when I’m most content and relaxed. Allowing my nervous system time and space to relax and regulate has been a daily intention for some time now, so a lot of what I needed came naturally from that perspective.
Here are a few ways I’ve naturally practiced micro-dosing joy:
Learning Photography
I’ve done this by practicing macrophotography, where I get absolutely lost in the tiniest details of aspects of nature and then get to experience a flow-state and a special sense of delight in the process of editing and later sharing these captured moments.
As much as I long for a camera or even a special clip-on macro lens, I’ve done this just with my phone and the free Lightroom App. So keep in mind, cost doesn’t have to be a roadblock to creative ways to play with emotions.
Singing & Learning Instruments
Music is magical for me. Using my voice has been an ongoing ordeal for as long as I can remember, and while I love to sing by myself, I still haven’t been able to get out more than a couple words in front of others. When I found out my local library offered instrument rentals, I start trying to learn. I told a few people I was learning, and now I have been gifted a ukulele and guitar.
Learning is usually fun for me and it’s exciting getting to recreate my favorite songs. The focus it takes to learn an instrument distracts me and lets me experience enjoyment in the moment without much anxiety. It also gives me a chance to practice using my voice and get more comfortable taking up “space” (auditory space) in the world. I have a goal to play and sing songs by the campfire this summer, and I’m well on my way! Though the thought of singing in front of people still makes me shiver… We’ll cross that bridge when we get there.
My budget is beyond small right now, (In fact, I wrote about money feeling hopeless recently, if you’re relating to that) so I feel very lucky and grateful for these gifts — and it goes to show little ways community and kind strangers can show up unexpectedly when you share what you’re working at and dreaming of, even in the early stages. There’s a time and a place, for sure, but if you’ve been wanting to do something new, I recommend talking about it with people and starting in whatever small way you can!
Mindful Time in Nature: Birdwatching
I’ve done this through bird-watching, which started as a mindful practice of just being outside and really staying present with the sounds around me… which included birdsong. Over time, I became fascinated with the behaviors of the birds and wanted to know more about what type of birds were around me and what all of their sounds and activities might mean… I love to read about it in books (and I’m dreaming up fairytales about birds now, which I know I will begin publishing soon!), but my favorite way to experience the birds, a way that gives me such a deep feeling of joy and peace (and finally soothes that ever-present urge to move, do something, see something new… that anxious longing for chaos so I can “relax” into familiar survival mode), is simply watching them. Noticing their spots or stripes, the colors and patterns around their eyes, the way their tail-feathers hang, what their little feet look like, which types of birds they like to be near, and which ones they avoid. Unlike photography, which I find difficult to do around other people, birdwatching has become a way I can experience joy and flow and be in the moment even around other people — even strangers (though I am reasonably wary of who is around me for actual safety reasons, of course).
Journaling and Mindful Note-making
I’ve journaled consistently since 2017, when I first purchased a really special journal and committed to actually filling it. Before that point, I had a lot of intentions of journaling but never actually made a regular habit of it for more than a couple days. If recording something daily might be helpful and interesting to you, try to let yourself do it in a way that feels novel and interesting to you — even if it’s unusual. This could look like using apps like Notion, bullet journaling where there’s more emphasis on lists and design than flowing thoughts. Using your Notes App during bus rides or in long lines. You could even chat with AI. Get a special notebook or even find a way to paint… create mini vision boards in old books… There are lots of ways you can use a book as part of your healing.
How I Created my Micro-dosing Joy Ritual
I am excited about the way my healing instincts tend to come about on their own and show up through art and hobbies… But when I realized I was having such a difficult time experiencing and expressing joy, I decided I did want to push myself, just a little bit. So, I created this joy practice and I did share it with my friends on Instagram. In case you’d like to replicate it (and you can do this with any emotion), here’s what it consists of:
Consider my intention.
Intention is the biggest piece of this practice. Before even coming up with this plan, I spent time pondering my intentions with joy. I want to feel it, even when I’m around people. I especially want to be able to feel it in the presence of my dearest friends and trusted loved ones. I want to feel safe sharing about joy, and I want to understand what my needs are for the sharing of joy to be a healthy and positive experience (rather than the trap I set for myself in the past, when I shared my joy without any boundaries or holds whatsoever). I want to honor the fear that comes up and I want to approach this joy experience with love and tenderness for the wounds that I know are tender and likely to be poked at by joyful experiences.Identify triggers and soothers…
Once I had my intention, I wanted to take note of any potential obstacles I might face along the path to reaching my goal of experiencing joy in the moment, even around other people. When setting my intention, I recognized that experiencing joy is a trigger for some of my internal wounds. Joy itself is the trigger… so I need to think about how to tend to my wounds and minimize any damage done by introducing a trigger, consciously.
I ask myself questions like:
- How can I consciously expose myself to this trigger, poke at this tender wound, without reducing my trust in myself?
- How can I make this joy practice an exercise for self-trust, independence, and experiencing felt-safety?
- When have I felt joy that did not hurt or poke at these wounds?
Are there times I have felt joy where I did not also feel afraid?
Who was I with? What was I doing? Where did this take place? Was this a certain time of day?
- When these wounds are aggrivated, what soothes them?
- As someone who finds a lot of comfort in nature, are there any elements that I find comforting, that would be helpful to include as part of my joy practice?
- What do I most want, need, or crave when I’m experiencing the kind of fear and pain that comes up for me with joy? How can I give that to myself in a small way? (Or: is there someone else who can help me fulfill this need? Maybe involve a trusted friend or a therapist in this practice if self-soothing is a big struggle for you.)
- Are there ways I can pre-soothe or prevent agitating my inner wounds by taking action or showing care prior to and during the joy-experiencing ritual?*
From these questions, I realized I feel comfortable and safe experiencing joy around a campfire. I seek warmth and coziness when things feel too good to be true and I’m waiting for the other shoe to drop. I know a good cry allows me to release a lot of the built-up tension and fear that I experience when I catch myself enjoying a calm and happy time. I also noticed I find it easiest to experience joy when I can do something to capture it (perhaps this reduces fear of losing it or feeling crazy for having it… like you might feel crazy for believing an abuser has really changed, as that “good” part of the abuse cycle comes crashing down once again).Design a ritual.
I chose the word ritual on purpose. Ritual to me means something sacred, intentional, and even solemn. Rituals tend to take place at specific points in a life or to honor, commemorate, or celebrate a transition.
Transitioning into a state of joy is a monumental task for me, climbing mountains barefoot is often easier (I checked). If you’ve read this far, I suspect you’ll agree.
And this process is intentional, designed to be healing, and is also intended to be shared with a community who understands the importance of the experience and who honors the strength and courage it takes to go through such an ordeal. You’re doing a big, brave thing opening up to emotions and the discomfort that comes with them. The process deserves to be honored.My exact joy ritual
and the reasoning behind each component:
- A hardcover sketch book
I chose a low-stakes activity I already know I experience flow in, because it will be much easier to allow myself to experience joy when I am already feeling relaxed and safe.
It was important to me to have a place to record these little experiences to help give them meaning and keep myself coming back to the ritual. It also gives me some sense of control and reduces the fear of losing joy once I find it, which I know is part of what makes experiencing joy feel scary to me.
- A timer
I chose 3 minutes, because I know nothing is perfect in 3 minutes, and perfectionism could have been a barrier to my practice.
I may spend more time on each page, but first, I will spend 3 minutes allowing joy to come and sit with me and to pour onto the sketchbook page however it wants to.
I also know that I can do anything for 3 minutes, so even when it feels daunting or protective parts of me try to procrastinate this task, I know that I always have 3 minutes and I can sit down with my book for 3 minutes and spend time with joy.
This is the most intense pressure I will put on myself for this exercise and ritual, the only forcing I will do. It’s a way of keeping a promise to myself to show up, but also keeping the pressure low because it is a high-intensity experience for me and when I do feel resistance or fear, I know that it is going to be a massive task just to sit down. I want to honor that, so I will only ask 3 minutes of presence from myself.
- Intermitent sharing.
I won’t make myself share everything; I’ve seen how damaging that can be for me when it comes to vulnerable experiences. I don’t want to create a situation where I feel pressured to maintain an image or admit failure where I’m already experiencing a lot of discomfort simply showing up to the exercise.
However, the outcome I want to achieve involves being able to share my joy with other people, and I do have a safe community of supportive, encouraging, and emotionally safe people.
I also know that I find it rewarding when the difficult things I do become helpful resources for others in similar positions. Sharing intermittently allows me to experience the reward of my hard work — I get to celebrate in community, again receive validation and shared experiences where it was only isolation before, and creates a low-pressure, low-stakes way to practice the social aspect of the goal I’ve set with myself.
Only sharing sometimes also gives me the opportunity to practice building a relationship with myself where I don’t feel the need to compulsively share anything, and instead I continue to create special memories and expiences that are only for me. This strengthens my sense of identity and self, makes me more resilient in times when I don’t receive the validation I hoped for socially, and also builds on the foundation I want to have within myself as a person.**
Final Thoughts
My sketchbook has 180 sheets… and once the book is full, I can reflect on the experience and re-evaluate if I’d like to create a new ritual, continue with this one, move on to something else, take a break, or even decide this is no longer a struggle I need to devote attention to in such an intentional way. Earlier, I mentioned that my hobbies really naturally moved in the direction of healing that felt most needed for me, and I find that tends to be true. It’s tempting to always be working on myself, but I also know that sometimes things are best allowed to move at their own pace. As I go through this practice, that will be somewhere in the back of my mind and I will revisit it at the end of the sketchbook.
I hope this look inside how I have become more comfortable experiencing my emotions is helpful. If experiencing joy, happiness, or rest is difficult for you, I hope you’re able to design a ritual for yourself that honors who and where you are now while also giving you a way to bring more of the peace and joy you want to experience into your daily life! I also hope you’re able to have lots of grace and compassion for yourself and that you can be gentle in the healing process. It’s okay to go slow and taking small steps doesn’t mean you are being lazy or cowardly. Emotional work is work and it can be every bit as exhausting and intense as physical labor, even though it doesn’t necessarily show on the outside.
Additional notes and resources:
* I wanted to go more into this, but for the sake of not writing an entire book for this article, I chose not to. However, there’s so much to be said for taking your needs, worries, and struggles into consideration prior to going into a situation where you know you will be triggered. I know for a lot of women especially, when they build trust with a child, a pet, a friend, or even a romantic partner, one of the things they will naturally do that makes others feel so loved and safe is they will make these considerations and accomodate the needs of this loved one accordingly.
Trauma survivors might also do this as well because we have learned that we are safer when our abusers are happy, don’t feel certain ways, etc. We tend to be hyper aware of other peoples’ emotions and anticipate their needs, but we get the energy to do that for our abusers (and everyone else, a lot of the time) by suppressing our awareness and catering to our own needs. Essentially, we sacrifice the energy we might have directed toward ourselves in a healthy environment for the sake of keeping abusers satiated and maintaining safety. Part of healing may be to unlearn that suppression and begin consciously developing the habit of recognizing and attending to our needs in real-time, and then also beginning to consider (“anticipate” sounded like too intense of a word here, but same thing) our own needs ahead of time. Make sense?
Some examples to give you an idea of what it looks like:
My friend always has a fuzzy blanket ready on the couch when I come over; she knows I will feel anxious in an open, less familiar space and the weight and texture of a blanket is soothing to me.
I always make a cup of tea or cook something when my sisters come over; I know we all experience more stress during transitions and need time to acclimate to a change in environment as well as to observe the emotions in the room and recognize that we are safe. This activity gives them a chance to observe me and take note of where I’m at emotionally while also giving them a predictable amount of time to get comfortable and adjust without feeling watched, awkward, or pressured.
My friend acknowledges when there are vehicles in her blindspot or we are about to merge while I’m riding in the car with her. This isn’t relevant anymore, but I used to be terrified of being in cars, especially if I wasn’t the person driving… my friend recognized when I would tense up, and over time, she helped me feel safer by letting me know she was paying attention to potential threats and that she was aware of what was going on around us.
I know I feel exposed and vulnerable in certain social situations. When I’m dressing for these occasions, I opt for extra layers and at least one soothing fabric because I know the weight and coverage makes me feel safer. Sometimes, I put on a piece of athletic under-clothing because it also makes me feel more strong and capable.
My dog doesn’t like to be touched when she is stressed out (especially in stores, and especially on her head), and often strangers see this small, cute dog and like to reach right over to pet her tiny head. When I see a stranger eyeing her excitedly or coming our way quickly, I will put my body between her and the stranger to establish a boundary and slow them down. When strangers ask to pet her, I invite them to offer their hand, low and slow, and give her the choice of whether she wants to engage with them or not. If she is really stressed, I will tell them she is not friendly today, and protect her from the interaction entirely. We socialize and she does have to experience discomfort and grow through it, but it is done intentionally and in safe places with safe people — with empathy (and appropriate soothing) for the stress and fear she experiences in the process.
Do you show yourself gentleness and consideration when you are experiencing something stressful or intense? What are some ways you can comfort and prepare yourself before, during, and after a planned trigger experience?
** Look into Najwa Zebian’s book Welcome Home if keeping some things to yourself and building a stronger relationship of trust within yourself resonates with you!
It’s a whole other topic, but a really wonderful one. Her book has been such a wonderful tool for me in recovering from trauma and learning to have an identity in myself that is not wholly dependent on other people as well as becoming a healthier partner and contributor to all of my relationships in life. (Here’s an Amazon link for the book. It’s not an affiliate link.)
