Suffering Sucks
Today is going to be an introspective journaling sort of post. I’m sick. Not deathly ill, but it’s not a cold either. It’s that miserable feverish body-ache sort of malady where, as my wife described it, part of your body is shivering while another part of your body is sweating. I almost skipped the post this week, but I feel better today than I have the last few days. So here I am.
What came to my mind a couple times over the course of this illness is the fact that I was suffering, but more precisely, that I didn’t want to be suffering. I desperately wanted it to be over. I was overjoyed this morning when I woke up after sleeping through the whole night, in spite of the fact that I was still drenched in sweat and my head still felt stuffy. Why would something so banal come to my brain? I mean, who doesn’t hate suffering and wants it to be over as soon as it has begun? No one besides self-flagellating religious zealots and workout extremists (David Goggins, cough cough).
This came to my mind because, over the last couple years (coincidentally, or not, around the same time my daughter was born), I have started noticing value in suffering. This has probably been from an amalgamation of the books I have read, our cultural environment, and my stage of life. Here are a couple of the paradigm-shattering books that led to this train of thought: Man’s Search for Meaning, Coddling of the American Mind, and Brave New World.
So, over time, I have begun to bring up the value of suffering to those around me - my wife, kids, friends, family. As you might expect, the responses have been mixed. Some scoff or roll their eyes, others say that sounds right hypothetically, but no one seems to want to implement intentional suffering into their lives. If something can be easier, why would we intentionally make it harder? Why take the stairs when there is an elevator? Why walk to work when you can drive? Why not take ibuprofen when you are sick or melatonin when you can’t sleep or Prozac when you are sad or Adderall when you can’t focus? Confession: I took a lot of ibuprofen this week.
It’s important to note that this whole conversation is massively nuanced. I’m using the term “suffering” extremely broadly. We know it applies to trauma like abuse or serious injury, but small sufferings are quotidian, never-ending. To expand on the elevator-stair example, some things are suffering for one person and not for another. In many cases, people are able to train themselves to enjoy activities that used to be suffering. This is most often through forms of exercise but it applies elsewhere as well. Many of the people who self harm by cutting themselves with razors or other objects either enjoy it or use it to stop the emotional suffering they are feeling.
A question I ask myself: Is suffering still beneficial once it is no longer suffering? As in the cases above. I think the answer is no. Rich Roll, a well-known podcaster and ultramarathoner talked about how for him to get an adequate workout, one that raises his heart rate and helps with his sleep, he needs to workout for 3+ hours straight. Less than that doesn’t even count as a workout for him. This is a fascinating conundrum, but I don’t think it is one that most of us will ever have to realistically worry about.
There seems to be some forms of suffering that are always suffering, and many of these will be a part of our lives no matter how comfort-seeking we are. We will always deal with illness and the death of those we love. So this week, while miserable for me, is a perfectly normal part of life.
What I’m trying to work through is how to handle suffering. Do I tear my garments, wear sackcloth, and put ashes on my head, Old Testament style? The thing I do the most is tell others I’m suffering - this is probably the most obvious “thou shalt not” commandment. Do I paste a smile on my face and pretend everything is ok? The Grumpy Monkey showed me the folly in that.
So what works? Probably what the church fathers have been doing for millennia: A quiet acceptance. Realizing that this part of life isn’t something just to push past or run from, but to accept and appreciate even if miserable. Accepting and appreciating something doesn’t mean enjoying or even liking it. There is a type of psychotherapy that has been resonating with me more and more called Acceptance and Commitment Therapy (ACT). Here is a telling snippet from Wikipedia: “Acceptance and commitment therapy invites people to open up to unpleasant feelings, learn not to overreact to them, and not avoid situations where they are invoked.”
This is antithetical to much of what psychiatry offers patients - almost all, if not all, the drugs prescribed hide, mask, and minimize symptoms/suffering. While occasionally it is necessary to use medication, the concern for the overuse of psychiatric medications is widespread. So having a modality of therapy like ACT that challenges individuals to sit in their suffering and learn how to still find value in life is a very good thing.
I present a challenge to myself and anyone else masochistic. Try to sit in the suffering and acknowledge it for what it is next time it occurs. Don’t try to enjoy it or put on a fake smile, but don’t do everything in your power to rush through it or avoid it. Maybe, twisted as it may sound, we may be better off for having the experience.