Having high emotional granularity is a vital tool for reducing emotional eating. The term was coined by Northeastern University Psychology Professor Lisa Feldman Barrett shortly after the turn of the century and refers to the ability to recognize, identify and express a full range of emotions. People with high emotional granularity have “finely tuned feelings.” They value emotions and are in touch with them most of the time. Moreover, they don’t lump all emotions together, but feel and can describe their nuances. Upset might be parsed as frightened, dismayed or exasperated. Angry might be viewed as frustrated, helpless or fearful.
Says Barrett, “Emotional granularity isn’t just about having a rich vocabulary; it’s about experiencing the world, and yourself, more precisely. This can make a difference in your life. In fact, there is growing scientific evidence that precisely tailored emotional experiences are good for you, even if those experiences are negative.” (“Are You in Despair? That’s Good,” The NY Times, 6/3/16, http://clbb.mgh.harvard.edu/are-you-in-despair-thats-good/#more-7340, accessed 1/29/19).
“According to a collection of studies, finely grained, unpleasant feelings allow people to be more agile at regulating their emotions, less likely to drink excessively when stressed and less likely to retaliate aggressively against someone who has hurt them…Perhaps surprisingly, the benefits of high emotional granularity are not only psychological. People who achieve it are also likely to have longer, healthier lives. They go to the doctor and use medication less frequently, and spend fewer days hospitalized for illness. Cancer patients, for example, have lower levels of harmful inflammation when they more frequently categorize, label and understand their emotions.”
There’s evidence that emotional granularity improves mental health. Higher emotional granularity translates to better coping skills and, therefore, fewer maladaptive behaviors such as addictions. Relationships also improve when people are attuned to emotions.
How emotionally granular are you? Do you have difficulty identifying your feelings? Do you ignore them? Lump them together? Therapy can help because it provides a safe place to learn about and discuss emotions. By becoming more tuned in to them, you’ll up your emotional intelligence and do less mindless or binge eating.
Putting Emotions To Work To Overcome Your Eating Disorder
Whether you’re just beginning to address your under- or overeating problems or have been making steady progress over years or decades, there’s one area that you will have to come to terms with sooner or later to achieve full recovery. To achieve a satisfying, nourishing, happy, and successful life without food problems, you will have to learn how put your emotions to work for you. This means not dancing around them by eating or calorie counting, obsessing about what you can/can’t/should/shouldn’t eat, or focusing on whether the numbers on the scale are moving up or down.
For many disordered eaters, identifying and sitting with feelings is the last hurdle to becoming a “normal” eater. Most are willing and often eager to practice new food- and weight-related behaviors, such as making satisfying food choices, eating mindfully, taking larger or smaller bites, throwing out the scale, eating without distractions, taking deep breaths after each mouthful, and staying connected to the body’s pleasure center during the eating process. But most people with eating problems—actually, most people, period—have difficulty getting comfortable with feelings. It’s important for you to recognize that disordered eaters are far from the only ones who have difficulty handling emotions. To greater or lesser extent, everyone does.
Unfortunately, every time you use food (move toward or away from it) instead of feeling an authentic emotion, you miss an opportunity to discover something about what’s happening in your internal world. Think of your emotions as equivalent to your senses. The latter alert us to our reaction to our environment—thumbs up or thumbs down—through touch, smell, sight, hearing, and taste. Our feelings have a similar function as they provide us with information about our reaction to people and situations. The function of both our senses and our emotions is to move us toward pleasure and away from pain. Emotions help us decide what is self-threatening—smelling smoke and seeing flames across the room—and what is self-enhancing—sensory delight derived from gazing out over the ocean as gulls soar overhead and the sun dips into the sea.
If you’re like most people, you don’t realize the value and purpose of emotions and assume they’re not important, or worse, that uncomfortable feelings should be avoided at all cost. But, I bet you’d never think of shutting off your senses and wandering through the world without them. Well, that’s exactly what you do every time you ignore or minimize a feeling.
What if emotions aren’t the demons you’ve made them out to be? What if emotions are your teachers and your care-takers? What if they’re not trash but treasures?
One of the reasons that emotions get a bad rap is that they can feel truly awful. We may believe that if something doesn’t feel good, it can’t be good, but this is far from the truth. There are lots of painful cures to what ails us that we tolerate because we know they are necessary and promote ultimate health and well-being—injections, dental fillings and implants, physical therapy, and surgery, to name a few. No one says, gee, terrific, I’m going to have my body sliced open today and then I’ll be in pain for weeks on end recovering. However, inspite of the fact that it’s often a nasty business, people schedule surgery because they know they’ll feel better in the long run.
The same is true of emotions. Just because they hurt or make you feel badly does not mean they are bad. Like musical notes and colors (and foods too!), there are no good or bad emotions. They’re what’s called value neutral. Think of them as messengers, giving you vital information about what’s happening within your internal landscape—you’re disappointed, ashamed, overwhelmed, overjoyed, furious, grief-stricken, content, shocked, revolted, elated, confused, lonely, excited, helpless. True, some of these feelings are excruciating and hard to bear, but they do pass and people survive them every day and have since the beginning of human existence. Half the battle is allowing yourself to be with your feelings without making judgments about them or the kind of person you are for having them. It’s a great deal easier to acknowledge, identify, experience, explore, and deal with feelings without all the associated criticisms you have of them or of yourself.
Recovering from an eating disorder means blossoming into a full, emotionally mature person. For that to happen, you must (yes, must) learn to experience all of your feelings; you can’t pick and choose. Becoming emotionally healthy is an all or nothing proposition, but one you can learn over time. If you believe you can’t bear your feelings alone, find a therapist who can guide you through them. Share your feelings with friends, start a journal, hug yourself, cry, holler til you’re hoarse, beat your pillow, sob til you’re exhausted.
At some point in recovery, you have to choose between food and feeling. You already know where your food obsession will lead you, so why not give feelings a try?
“The aim of trauma treatment is to update memories that have been encoded to produce fear, shame and other painful emotions in response to an event with new interpretations or meanings so that the memories become non-threatening.”
Not only does Courtney Armstrong have a deep understanding of the nature of trauma and treating its debilitating effects, she has the ability to explain complex theory in language that readers can understand. This winning combo makes much of the information in Rethinking Trauma Treatment, a book written for clinicians, worthwhile for trauma survivors as well as for the people in their lives who are trying to support and care for them.
The book is divided into three sections: developing the therapeutic alliance, transforming traumatic memories, and post-traumatic growth. Armstrong’s liberal use of case histories and client anecdotes illustrates what happens intrapsychically and interpersonally to people who have experienced trauma and are trying to move beyond its lingering, painful memories. Describing how therapists need to create safe havens in their sessions with trauma survivors, she underscores how attachment disorders leave them anxious, insecure, reactive and mistrustful of others, all of which make developing rapport and sustaining connection a challenge.
She goes on to present exercises that ground and soothe clients and are necessary not only for them to tolerate the therapist’s exploration of their traumatic memories, but for them to become less reactive in their lives. The range of Armstrong’s interventions is impressive, and her clinical examples show the reader what approaches work and how attunement is key to providing exactly what each client needs for healing. This process, similar to observing master therapists interview clients, will teach novice clinicians a great deal about how to approach and relate to all, not just traumatized, clients by paying attention to Armstrong’s nuanced and enlightened therapeutic responses.
Section two explains what happens to the brain and body when someone experiences trauma. Armstrong defines trauma as “a disorder of memory,” a definition which is key to understanding how she works with it. Early on in the book, she describes how the brain reacts to “emotionally stressful encounters” through the amygdala encoding “all the sensory information associated with the event into what is called an implicit memory . . . a network of neurons that contains the felt, experiential part of memory.” She stresses that implicit memory is far different from explicit or didactic memory which records the factual details of events.
The aim of trauma treatment is to update memories that have been encoded to produce fear, shame and other painful emotions in response to an event with new interpretations or meanings so that the memories become non-threatening. Armstrong uses the example of a “virus or software program with a bug that gets downloaded to a computer.” Just as the computer needs to be recoded when there are errors, so do our brains. Once memory updates are completed through a five-step protocol contained in Armstrong’s acronym RECON, the painful emotions experienced in an event lose their toxicity.
Section two also addresses specific types of trauma: sexual and combat, abuse from childhood, and traumatic grief and loss. Again, Armstrong uses an abundance of examples to illustrate the theory behind memory reconsolidation, so that what she is doing therapeutically, which may feel like magic to the transformed client, is grounded in intentional interventions that are tailored to resolving each type of trauma.
The final section of the book is devoted to clients’ improved mental health and to what therapists must do to hold onto their own. Most readers will be familiar with the term PTSD or Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder, but many may not know what Post-Traumatic Growth is: the healthy, positive changes that occur in trauma survivors’ lives down the road. This transformation has been studied and validated by scientific research—many people who had horrific experiences that they thought would scar them for life, instead, have gone on to achieve five specific positive changes: “greater sense of personal strength, openness to new possibilities, greater appreciation for life, spiritual development, and enhanced relationships.”
Additionally, Armstrong cautions therapists who work frequently and intensively with trauma survivors to watch out for common hazards that might arise and impact their own mental health. She describes therapists’ risk for compassion fatigue or numbing out, loss of empathy for trauma clients, and emotional burnout from the stress of their work. Citing examples of each, she encourages therapists to take care of themselves by finding emotional balance in their lives.
Therapists who are new to the complexities of trauma resolution will be grateful for Armstrong’s inclusion of learning tools such as diagrams, client worksheets, and verbatim therapist-client dialogues. Clinicians who already use the book’s cutting-edge memory reconsolidation approach will deepen their knowledge of its principles and find myriad practices and applications to make certain that trauma survivors are well served.
I bet all of you have heard of Post-traumatic stress, but I wonder how many of you know about Post-traumatic growth (PTG). We so often think of the downside of trauma—depression, hyper-vigilance, anxiety and flashbacks—but it turns out that there’s an upside to it as well. The term, post-traumatic growth, was first used by Richard Tedeschi, Ph.D. and Lawrence Calhoun, Ph.D. in 1995 at the University of North Carolina to describe the positive changes that they saw in patients who had been affected by and were struggling with trauma.
If you are someone who’s been impacted by trauma, you might find it hard to believe that there’s anything positive about it, but research tells us that there is. "People develop new understandings of themselves, the world they live in, how to relate to other people, the kind of future they might have and a better understanding of how to live life," says Tedeschi. Tanako Katu, Ph.D. at Oakland University explains that, “PTG…refers to what can happen when someone who has difficulty bouncing back experiences a traumatic event that challenges his or her core beliefs, endures psychological struggle (even a mental illness such as post-traumatic stress disorder), and then ultimately finds a sense of personal growth. It's a process that "takes a lot of time, energy and struggle.”
According to the Post-Traumatic Growth Inventory (PTGI) which uses self-report scales, people may change positively in these areas: appreciation of life, relationship with others, new possibilities in life, personal strength and spiritual change. Does everyone experience growth? Tedeschi says, "It all depends on the trauma, the circumstances, the timing of the measurement…[and] on how you define growth using the PTGI, looking at total score, means, factors or individual items," and he estimates that about one-half to two-thirds of people show PTG.
Key traits that facilitate PTG are extraversion and openness to experience. The former makes people more likely to connect with others (and I would add, perhaps, to seek help from them), while the latter, lacking rigid belief systems, makes them more willing to look at viewpoints that are different from their own. I can validate from my clinical experience that clients who are connected to others do much better recovering from trauma than those who remain isolated and stuck in their traumatic suffering. It’s also been my experience that clients who are willing to shift beliefs and see things from another perspective can heal and often create better lives for themselves than they could ever have imagined. (“Growth after trauma” by Lorna Collier, 11/2016, vol. 47, no. 10, accessed 6/5/17, http://www.apa.org/monitor/2016/11/growth-trauma.aspx).
Most of us think about trauma as just about the worst thing that can happen to us. And for many, it is. Even if you’ve survived trauma, you still may be dealing with its physical and emotional aftermath, which perhaps includes emotional eating. How, then, can trauma ever have an upside?
In “How trauma can change lives—for the better,” Jim Rendon, author of Upside: The New Science of Post-Traumatic Growth, says yes, indeed, it can (TIME 8/3/15, p. 29). Therapists and the general public have long been schooled in the notion that trauma is terrible and nothing more, he says, one that changes peoples’ lives for the worse and stays with them to death. Post-traumatic stress disorder, with its nightmares, hyper-vigilance and flashbacks, can be frightening to experience or live with in a loved one.
What, then, is science telling Rendon that makes him believe that trauma sometimes can be anything but a negative experience? He says that “an estimated 75% of people will experience a traumatic event in their lifetime” and that, while many report negative effects, down the road, others report positive changes—greater inner strength, increased intimacy, and a “reorientation” in life toward more fulfilling goals. In short, over time, the pain of trauma can help people “change for the better.” Rendon maintains that “Growth begins with healing from trauma.”
He also says that growth and transformative change are based on the premise that people seek and receive help. Sadly, many trauma survivors don’t recognize themselves as having been trauma victims and, therefore, forgo clinical treatment. They’re too scared of opening up old wounds or too ashamed of what happened to them, even when they were innocent victims. Moreover, when trauma occurs, their pre-trauma mental health determines how they’ll react to and heal from it.
I’ve seen people do exactly what Rendon says: survive trauma and go on to change their lives—and the lives of others—for the better because of it. This happens when: women and men who are raped go on to become sexual abuse counselors and victim advocates, parents of murdered children put their hearts into changing gun laws and increasing access to mental health counseling, and when people hurt by drunk drivers work to educate the public about drinking and driving. If you’re a trauma survivor, consider how both trauma and healing might change your life for the better. Then, even if you’re afraid, get the treatment you need.
