have you successfully overcome deep, painful feelings of jealousy/envy?
June 8, 2024 12:46 AM
Looking for effective coping skills and/or meaningful excerpts of philosophy/literature about this topic
I deal with extreme, wrenching feelings of envy towards people close to me who have things in their lives that I missed out on due to me getting cancer at a young age. These feelings make it hard for me to maintain friendships and family relationships with them, and cause me a great deal of suffering (even as I work towards making the life I want). One manifestation of my jealousy is cruel (unspoken) thoughts like "I hope she loses her job" or "I wish his husband would cheat on him" or "Please let them be unable to conceive." I know that under my jealousy is grief. I already see a therapist.
What are some things I might read or think about, that helped you work through something similar?
I deal with extreme, wrenching feelings of envy towards people close to me who have things in their lives that I missed out on due to me getting cancer at a young age. These feelings make it hard for me to maintain friendships and family relationships with them, and cause me a great deal of suffering (even as I work towards making the life I want). One manifestation of my jealousy is cruel (unspoken) thoughts like "I hope she loses her job" or "I wish his husband would cheat on him" or "Please let them be unable to conceive." I know that under my jealousy is grief. I already see a therapist.
What are some things I might read or think about, that helped you work through something similar?
I don’t know if this will be useful to you, but it was useful to me.
When I was in my mid-30s, I had good job and overall a pretty good life, but I was single and lonely. I had never had more than a couple of dates with anyone, and I wanted very much to have a husband and a family.
One day I came across a magazine article by a woman who was married with one child, but she really wanted a second child and was having trouble conceiving. I read this and my first instinctive reaction was absolute rage - how DARE this woman, who had everything I lacked, have the nerve to want EVEN MORE and to be upset about not having it? And then I thought, hang on, MY life looks pretty good from the outside. Most people would have looked at me, with my good job, my own house, good health, good relationships with friends and loving parents, and think: What does she have to complain about?
It’s not a stupendous insight, but that moment stuck with me and was really helpful in allowing me to reframe my attitudes to other people. You simply don’t know what other people are dealing with. Life is terribly unfair. It’s terribly unfair that you got cancer at a young age and that closed off life options that you would have wanted. Many people, probably the majority, have something in their lives which is terribly unfair - past abuse, the emotional legacy of awful parents, a marriage which looks ok from the outside but is actually not meeting their needs, health issues, addictions, many other things. Sometimes it’s obvious to the world at large what that person is dealing with, and sometimes it’s not. Which brings me back to that magazine article about the woman who desperately wanted a second child - the fact that she had the things I believed I needed in order to be happy did not negate or make invalid the fact that she was unhappy.
What you’re describing is a very human and very understandable reaction. It’s human nature to want things, and often we want things that circumstances mean we can’t have and that other people seem to have come by without any visible effort, and that feels - and is - brutally unfair. The only effective response is to try to cultivate empathy for other people, to try to make your default starting point not ‘they have something I want but don’t have’ but rather ‘I wonder what it is that they want but can’t have’.
posted by damsel with a dulcimer at 3:56 AM on June 8
When I was in my mid-30s, I had good job and overall a pretty good life, but I was single and lonely. I had never had more than a couple of dates with anyone, and I wanted very much to have a husband and a family.
One day I came across a magazine article by a woman who was married with one child, but she really wanted a second child and was having trouble conceiving. I read this and my first instinctive reaction was absolute rage - how DARE this woman, who had everything I lacked, have the nerve to want EVEN MORE and to be upset about not having it? And then I thought, hang on, MY life looks pretty good from the outside. Most people would have looked at me, with my good job, my own house, good health, good relationships with friends and loving parents, and think: What does she have to complain about?
It’s not a stupendous insight, but that moment stuck with me and was really helpful in allowing me to reframe my attitudes to other people. You simply don’t know what other people are dealing with. Life is terribly unfair. It’s terribly unfair that you got cancer at a young age and that closed off life options that you would have wanted. Many people, probably the majority, have something in their lives which is terribly unfair - past abuse, the emotional legacy of awful parents, a marriage which looks ok from the outside but is actually not meeting their needs, health issues, addictions, many other things. Sometimes it’s obvious to the world at large what that person is dealing with, and sometimes it’s not. Which brings me back to that magazine article about the woman who desperately wanted a second child - the fact that she had the things I believed I needed in order to be happy did not negate or make invalid the fact that she was unhappy.
What you’re describing is a very human and very understandable reaction. It’s human nature to want things, and often we want things that circumstances mean we can’t have and that other people seem to have come by without any visible effort, and that feels - and is - brutally unfair. The only effective response is to try to cultivate empathy for other people, to try to make your default starting point not ‘they have something I want but don’t have’ but rather ‘I wonder what it is that they want but can’t have’.
posted by damsel with a dulcimer at 3:56 AM on June 8
One manifestation of my jealousy is cruel (unspoken) thoughts like "I hope she loses her job" or "I wish his husband would cheat on him" or "Please let them be unable to conceive."
You don't say how deep these thoughts go versus being partly an automatic reaction to stuff. I don't know if you're in a place where this will help, but for me I try to not get too worked up by those thoughts, and react to them more like "yup there goes my brain again, good old brain" and move on. I used to get distressed that I would even think things like that, so on top of the underlying unhappiness I'd have this extra distress to deal with, and eventually I realized I don't actually have to take all the random crap my brain serves up seriously all the time. Maybe one day I'll get to a point where my brain abandons these cruel and kind of ridiculously cliched pathways, but until then, I'll just pat it on its metaphorical head like a toddler and give it a metaphorical hug.
Another thing that's made some difference is to sort of look around at my surroundings/home/activities/life from time to time and think "this is nice." They're not what I dreamed of, and if I think about all the things I don't have I get depressed, but I do have a lot of nice stuff in my life if I stop to notice it.
posted by trig at 5:16 AM on June 8
You don't say how deep these thoughts go versus being partly an automatic reaction to stuff. I don't know if you're in a place where this will help, but for me I try to not get too worked up by those thoughts, and react to them more like "yup there goes my brain again, good old brain" and move on. I used to get distressed that I would even think things like that, so on top of the underlying unhappiness I'd have this extra distress to deal with, and eventually I realized I don't actually have to take all the random crap my brain serves up seriously all the time. Maybe one day I'll get to a point where my brain abandons these cruel and kind of ridiculously cliched pathways, but until then, I'll just pat it on its metaphorical head like a toddler and give it a metaphorical hug.
Another thing that's made some difference is to sort of look around at my surroundings/home/activities/life from time to time and think "this is nice." They're not what I dreamed of, and if I think about all the things I don't have I get depressed, but I do have a lot of nice stuff in my life if I stop to notice it.
posted by trig at 5:16 AM on June 8
Check out the Stoics. The Art of Living has lots of straightforward advice on envy and jealousy that may be helpful. It's short and accessible and cheap. My Latin teacher touted it as the first and possibly the best self-help book.
posted by SaltySalticid at 5:19 AM on June 8
posted by SaltySalticid at 5:19 AM on June 8
I found psychedelics extremely helpful with this. I also had some luck with just… forcing myself not to. I decided I didn't want to be a jealous person, so I pushed the thoughts away and forced myself to think the kind of thoughts that the person I wanted to be would have. It didn't feel natural at first, but it got easier and easier. I don't think that would've worked without psychedelics, though.
Now, jealousy seems like a completely pointless exercise, as does any other sort of thinking like “if only x hadn't happened” or “if only I had made a different choice at this point in my life” that creates a fictional parallel universe in which my life happened differently. It might seem very real to think about what your life would have been like without cancer, but maybe if you didn't get cancer, some chain of events would've unfolded that ended up with you dying at a very young age?
I've learned that whenever I do that, I'm just mentally torturing myself. It's also easier now to think about how much worse it could be. What if I had the same problems and no close people to be jealous of? Someone out there does.
posted by wheatlets at 5:23 AM on June 8
Now, jealousy seems like a completely pointless exercise, as does any other sort of thinking like “if only x hadn't happened” or “if only I had made a different choice at this point in my life” that creates a fictional parallel universe in which my life happened differently. It might seem very real to think about what your life would have been like without cancer, but maybe if you didn't get cancer, some chain of events would've unfolded that ended up with you dying at a very young age?
I've learned that whenever I do that, I'm just mentally torturing myself. It's also easier now to think about how much worse it could be. What if I had the same problems and no close people to be jealous of? Someone out there does.
posted by wheatlets at 5:23 AM on June 8
I used to have a lot of jealousy and resentment toward my sister-in-law for reasons I don't need to go into here. I expended a huge amount of energy complaining about her to anyone who would listen and in hindsight, I got a weird dopamine rush from my righteousness. Then one day a friend got fed up with me and gently said, have you ever thought that she might have reason to be jealous of you? And you know what - I hadn't. I had been so caught up in my own narrative that I had never once tried to put myself in her shoes. That conversation changed me - not right away and not without setbacks - and I am so grateful to that friend for calling me on my bullshit.
Looking back, I wish I had that time and energy back to spend it on happier things, and I regret that I was almost certainly doing a very bad job of concealing my resentment. It's embarrassing to think about. Lately I've been using the phrase "they aren't doing this at me" as my redirect when feelings like this bubble up. Acknowledging it is such a great first step to moving forward.
posted by Sweetie Darling at 6:40 AM on June 8
Looking back, I wish I had that time and energy back to spend it on happier things, and I regret that I was almost certainly doing a very bad job of concealing my resentment. It's embarrassing to think about. Lately I've been using the phrase "they aren't doing this at me" as my redirect when feelings like this bubble up. Acknowledging it is such a great first step to moving forward.
posted by Sweetie Darling at 6:40 AM on June 8
I second looking at stoicism as a philosophical outlook. I’ve found it helpful with my own feelings and conflicts.
Remembering that you are not your thoughts is another important thing. We have thoughts, those thoughts come from somewhere, but we can let them come and go like a summer storm. Not identifying with those thoughts might help temper the feelings.
Another helpful thing is to really take stock of what you have and value in your life. Finding happiness with what you have can discourage your mind from seeking it in what others have.
“How to be Perfect” by Michale Schur is a lovely read that you might find helpful.
posted by eekernohan at 7:12 AM on June 8
Remembering that you are not your thoughts is another important thing. We have thoughts, those thoughts come from somewhere, but we can let them come and go like a summer storm. Not identifying with those thoughts might help temper the feelings.
Another helpful thing is to really take stock of what you have and value in your life. Finding happiness with what you have can discourage your mind from seeking it in what others have.
“How to be Perfect” by Michale Schur is a lovely read that you might find helpful.
posted by eekernohan at 7:12 AM on June 8
The thing that has helped me most with managing intense jealousy and envy has been to allow, accept, and validate my own emotions, indulge in a little bit of schadenfreude, and read essays and stories by other people who have also experienced extreme jealousy as a reminder that those feelings are pretty common/normal (obviously they shouldn't be acted on/expressed out loud, but acknowledging, accepting, and even embracing "difficult" emotions is often helpful with being able to slowly let them go). I think especially with something like complex grief, resentment/jealousy of others is so common that it should be normalized as part of the grief process.
I highly recommend Anne Lamott's chapter on Jealousy from Bird by Bird, excerpted here: https://austinkleon.com/tag/anne-lamott/ and here: https://krinndnz.livejournal.com/130995.html. In it, she references the poem "The Book of my Enemy Has Been Remaindered" by Clive James.
posted by sleepingwithcats at 7:30 AM on June 8
I highly recommend Anne Lamott's chapter on Jealousy from Bird by Bird, excerpted here: https://austinkleon.com/tag/anne-lamott/ and here: https://krinndnz.livejournal.com/130995.html. In it, she references the poem "The Book of my Enemy Has Been Remaindered" by Clive James.
posted by sleepingwithcats at 7:30 AM on June 8
Although not to your frequency, I have experienced the type of negative/extreme thoughts you’ve described due to jealousy.
I mostly have come to accept those thoughts now, and make myself counter them: “but would I trade 100% of their life for 100% of my life?” Because the answer is always no. I would not make that trade.
If your answer is yes, you would make that trade (and hey, maybe it is) obviously this advice won’t help, but for my situation I’ve found is very helpful.
posted by samthemander at 8:11 AM on June 8
I mostly have come to accept those thoughts now, and make myself counter them: “but would I trade 100% of their life for 100% of my life?” Because the answer is always no. I would not make that trade.
If your answer is yes, you would make that trade (and hey, maybe it is) obviously this advice won’t help, but for my situation I’ve found is very helpful.
posted by samthemander at 8:11 AM on June 8
Every minute you spend contorted in jealous agony is a minute you don't get to appreciate the fact that you're still here and what is good in your life. Suppose you found out tomorrow that you'd relapsed, it was stage IV, and you could expect to die within a few days. Is feeling hateful about friends and family what you'd want to remember as the way you'd spent your time beforehand? I don't even mean from an ethical standpoint--I mean as a question of your own happiness!
That said, it sounds like you do understand that life is unfair and these feelings of yours aren't good for you, so I agree with those who suggest treating these thoughts as basically an intrusive tic that is not really "you", that you can let pass with a little shake of your head.
posted by praemunire at 8:46 AM on June 8
That said, it sounds like you do understand that life is unfair and these feelings of yours aren't good for you, so I agree with those who suggest treating these thoughts as basically an intrusive tic that is not really "you", that you can let pass with a little shake of your head.
posted by praemunire at 8:46 AM on June 8
A handful of years ago, I was dealing with some jealousy and read a good take on it: jealousy is often a sign of our own unmet needs or other negative feelings about ourselves. Unless there is something wrong in a relationship (like, a friend is being mean or abusive to you), then jealousy is the outward direction of inner something.
It sounds like you know this. The feeling behind the jealousy is grief. Right now, it’s easier to be envious of others and feel negativity and spite and hatefulness towards them than to process your own grief. So, while you’re talking about dealing with envy, I think maybe you need to lean into the grief part. Jealousy is the distraction from work you need to do.
I wonder if it might be helpful for you to spend time with people who were diagnosed with cancer at the same age as you. Would that be one way to start to deal with this?
I also think some mindfulness and curiosity and acceptance of self could help here. When you feel jealous, try to observe it and not judge yourself. “Oh, look, there’s that envy again.” There are books and classes you can take on mindfulness that might be useful.
Also, have you heard of the first-thought-versus-second-thought thing? The first thought is sometimes an automatic reaction we have. Our second thought is who we are. So we might react really negatively to something in the moment (“I hope they break up”) but our second thought (“Oh, I am so glad my friend has a happy relationship”) reflects our non-lizard brain.
Anyway, friend, this sounds tough. But I want to encourage you to have more self-compassion and try not to continue focusing on the symptoms (your feelings about others) and instead deal with your grief. That’s what’s going to start to move the needle. Good luck.
posted by bluedaisy at 10:55 AM on June 8
It sounds like you know this. The feeling behind the jealousy is grief. Right now, it’s easier to be envious of others and feel negativity and spite and hatefulness towards them than to process your own grief. So, while you’re talking about dealing with envy, I think maybe you need to lean into the grief part. Jealousy is the distraction from work you need to do.
I wonder if it might be helpful for you to spend time with people who were diagnosed with cancer at the same age as you. Would that be one way to start to deal with this?
I also think some mindfulness and curiosity and acceptance of self could help here. When you feel jealous, try to observe it and not judge yourself. “Oh, look, there’s that envy again.” There are books and classes you can take on mindfulness that might be useful.
Also, have you heard of the first-thought-versus-second-thought thing? The first thought is sometimes an automatic reaction we have. Our second thought is who we are. So we might react really negatively to something in the moment (“I hope they break up”) but our second thought (“Oh, I am so glad my friend has a happy relationship”) reflects our non-lizard brain.
Anyway, friend, this sounds tough. But I want to encourage you to have more self-compassion and try not to continue focusing on the symptoms (your feelings about others) and instead deal with your grief. That’s what’s going to start to move the needle. Good luck.
posted by bluedaisy at 10:55 AM on June 8
Hello, former me. I had primary infertility for 5 excruciating years with two miscarriages. During that time, all of my friends were getting pregnant and having babies as easily as I wasn't. I thought some terrible things about them during this time. How did I get past this? A few ways.
First, I gave myself a LOT of grace. In other words, I let myself have those feelings and just didn't share them. I let myself really embrace the unfairness of it all and just blow through the feelings.
Second, I found a community of people going through what I was going through who understood what I was feeling. It wasn't for validation so much as it was to understand that I wasn't alone.
Through that community I learned of the concept of the Pain Olympics. My pain - as real as it was to me - was no more valid or less valid than anyone else's pain including the pains my friends with babies were feeling. In other words, I needed to focus on my pain and find a way to live with it.
Ultimately, I did end up having a baby (and another a few years later!) and the pain of that time has all but vanished but it wasn't because I ended up getting what I wanted. It was because I finally accepted that this was the first time I had tried something and did not succeed but in fact failed spectacularly at it and that was okay. The world didn't end, people didn't stop loving me, and I wasn't a terrible person because of it. Getting to the root of that pain was what really helped me heal.
All the best healing to you.
posted by tafetta, darling! at 11:42 AM on June 8
First, I gave myself a LOT of grace. In other words, I let myself have those feelings and just didn't share them. I let myself really embrace the unfairness of it all and just blow through the feelings.
Second, I found a community of people going through what I was going through who understood what I was feeling. It wasn't for validation so much as it was to understand that I wasn't alone.
Through that community I learned of the concept of the Pain Olympics. My pain - as real as it was to me - was no more valid or less valid than anyone else's pain including the pains my friends with babies were feeling. In other words, I needed to focus on my pain and find a way to live with it.
Ultimately, I did end up having a baby (and another a few years later!) and the pain of that time has all but vanished but it wasn't because I ended up getting what I wanted. It was because I finally accepted that this was the first time I had tried something and did not succeed but in fact failed spectacularly at it and that was okay. The world didn't end, people didn't stop loving me, and I wasn't a terrible person because of it. Getting to the root of that pain was what really helped me heal.
All the best healing to you.
posted by tafetta, darling! at 11:42 AM on June 8
Another thing that's made some difference is to sort of look around at my surroundings/home/activities/life from time to time and think "this is nice."
The best thing I've taken from therapy is learning when to observe "if this isn't nice, I don't know what is."
Sometimes it's my kids doing something outside. Sometimes it's a performance I'm enjoying with my partner. Sometimes it's a three piece jazz ensemble at a literally underground bar making me feel like I'm in a really classy movie with, like, subtitles.
posted by Lenie Clarke at 12:50 PM on June 8
The best thing I've taken from therapy is learning when to observe "if this isn't nice, I don't know what is."
Sometimes it's my kids doing something outside. Sometimes it's a performance I'm enjoying with my partner. Sometimes it's a three piece jazz ensemble at a literally underground bar making me feel like I'm in a really classy movie with, like, subtitles.
posted by Lenie Clarke at 12:50 PM on June 8
Something else that might help in this scenario is looking into lovingkindness/metta meditation practice, which begins with expressing benevolence towards the self and then deliberately enlarges outwards until it takes in the whole world.
posted by praemunire at 1:03 PM on June 8
posted by praemunire at 1:03 PM on June 8
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posted by HearHere at 3:32 AM on June 8