The Feel Good Shame Factor

It’s said there is nothing sexier than a crying man, although if he’s crying after sex, I’m not so sure. That said, who knows why he is crying? The quality of the intercourse, or perhaps some deeply imbued intimacy issues. There is nothing more shameful for a man than coital problems, whether it’s the tears, poor technique, getting it up or getting it down. You might want to know how doctors deal with that and all I’ll say is that it’s similar to how you get a glow stick going…

Who wants to feel shame? It’s as uncomfortable as a pair of jeans your 40-year-old arse still thinks it can fit in. A feeling of embarrassment from having done something improper, like buying those jeans, not that I can relate… ahem.

What are emotions? I don’t know, I stopped feeling anything some time ago. Even in my dreams. It makes my dream tango lessons with dream Hayley Atwell a bit underwhelming as even my dreams are against me…

We feel emotions to alert us to something. The joy of holding a newborn baby. The sadness of saying goodbye to a loved one. The anger felt when they cancelled ‘God Friended Me’. An atheist receives a friend request on Facebook from God? The actual God? WHAT AN IDEA THIS IS! It’s like Fox in the ‘90s. What happened next? They cancelled it on a cliffhanger, gosh darn it! Where was the monk taking Miles? I WANT ANSWERS, DAMN IT!

It’s from this I learnt to hate CBS.

Certain emotions feel good. Like horny. Other emotions feel bad. Like horny with no receptacle. That sounded far better in my head. Hmm. Sometimes, some emotions make us feel discomfort. See previous example…

Boo, shame! The worst emotion of them all! As a negative emotion, we seek to push shame away, like a certain CBS Head of Programming off a cliff. Don’t worry, I’ve put a mattress on the beach. I’m fairly certain that will soften a 300-foot drop.

But this isn’t the wisest decision, and no, I’m not talking about the attempted murder. But we’re wrong about shame because it’s an essential part of our survival, like chocolate. Oh, you better believe I need chocolate to live…

Shame! Shame! Shame!

What is the most shameful moment of my life? Oh, I dunno. I dropped a tissue at the bus station last week and didn’t realise. I can’t believe I littered. Oh, the shame. And that was my snot tissue. Oh, I have lots of tissues for the various parts of me that are going wrong.

Now, I know what you’re thinking, reader. Well, funny you should ask. The snot tissue is the one I lost. Now, you can’t use that for the other tissues. That’s like using a shoe for a glove and a glove for a shoe. It would work but you’d look awfully stupid.

Then there’s the tears tissue as I cry a lot, usually at television shows, like when Lori died in The Walking Dead. Sniff. Now Rick is going to go coo-coo banana pops. Nobody wants that. Although he can ravage me with those angry eyes any day. The other tissue is for potential vomit. That’s a thick one. I throw up a lot. And the final tissue is for ooze. I ooze a lot. A lot of me is oozing. Often blood. Sometimes pus. The point is, I’m a very sick man.

And now here is my ‘shame tissue’ scattered on the floor of a bus station. Who knows who’s stood on that? I have every disease known to man. Even uterine fibroids, somehow. Now you might say that’s fine, but you don’t know where that person is going. You know, the person with my shame tissue stuck to their foot. They may be going to a foot lickers convention. This begs the question why the people AT that convention are licking shoes.

That said, you could argue a shoe is just an extension of the foot. Next thing you know, I’ve started another pandemic and wiped out half the world’s population. Oh, the shame! You could say I shouldn’t bear the burden of guilt here. After all, that man is licking a shoe. But I’m not sure. I’m British. We’re used to feeling shame.

These days, that is. Not 100 years ago. Back then… well, there was a bit of an incident. Or quite a lot of incidents. In quite a lot of places. Around… around the world and… you know, it’s not important.

So am I right to feel shame, admittedly in this rather extreme example? Honestly, I haven’t got a wink of sleep…

United for Shame, Wired for Guilt

Now I know what you’re thinking, reader. Why am I more bothered by a stranger getting ill from licking my shoe than the act itself? I see it as a compliment. It’s like that time a girl told me she once thought about me while tickling her ivory. Aww, really? Gee, that’s lovely! Thank you so much for thinking of me! Let’s ignore the fact she said she really tried not to think of me but she couldn’t help herself. Like an earworm. That’s what I am.

A pleasure earworm. A pleasure worm, if you will…

But that’s not the point. When we accept shame is a good thing, we can utilise our shame to improve ourselves. It’s designed to stop us from repeating our mistakes. Now I zip up my snot pocket. Yes, you’re right. It is disgusting in there and I do indeed own a lot of pockets. I have nowhere to put them, though.

So I’m just a man wandering around with lots of ghost pockets.

It is all about accountability for our actions. Just this morning I was tying my shoe on the bus and I got mud all over the seat. I spent ages scrubbing away at that with my nails. Dirty, dirty, dirty… clean, clean, clean… no one will ever know! HA, HA, HA! Except that girl sitting opposite me staring at my deranged face with a look of both fear and curiosity.

I call it ‘fearosity’ and it’s a look many women throw my way…

Shame often feels like one of the most destructive emotions. It’s so painful. Like stepping on a Lego. When you don’t own any Lego. Certain thoughts rush through your mind. From a sinking feeling to a feeling that a reverse burglar is breaking into my home to leave Lego.

Damn you to hell, Reverso the Magnificent!

A Warrant for the Unwarranted

When it comes down to it, shame is a universal emotion. We all feel it, right? It’s part of the human experience. Like love, leaving your home with your shirt on backwards, or that time a walrus slapped me.

Shame is a wonderful teacher. It teaches positive behaviour. Like to be more mindful of others when you need to fart in public. Look, look, look, nope… the coast is clear. TOOT ON, MY SON! Toot on…

It can also teach us negative behaviour. Which aren’t always bad. Someone cuts you up in traffic? You swear at this person. You call them every name under the Sun. You feel shame. What should I do next time this happens? That’s right. Ram into them, that’ll teach ‘em.

Being mindful of shame enables us to appreciate that is nothing but a beautiful gift. It helps us grow. It helps us learn from our mistakes. And it helps us improve our behaviour so we end up in court on road rage charges that were definitely worth it.

Like that time I kicked someone’s car who wasn’t indicating. There I was, standing in the rain next to a roundabout, waiting to cross over, and this jackass was just sitting there, at the junction, on his phone! Is he going straight ahead? Is he going right? Is he going left? Who knows, he aint indicating!

So I cross over and at that precise moment, he floors it. LEFT. Where I am on the road. He slams his brakes on, gets out of his car and starts swearing at me. YOU IDIOT! DID YOU NOT SEE ME! YES, I DID! I’VE BEEN STANDING HERE, SOAKING WET, FOR 10 MINUTES, YOU NUTTER! Anyway, my bus was coming so I had to go, but not before I kicked his car…

The point is that life is always teaching you lessons. In this case, buy thicker shoes for next time. My poor toe. It hurt so bad.

I guess it serves me right for wearing a glove on my foot…

The Feel Good Shame Factor

We mustn’t feel shame, not now, not ever. BE GONE, VILE EMOTION! There is no place in the world for you, like Trump, Marmite and CBS.

But I think shame has gotten a bad name in recent years.

Here’s the thing: there’s no shame in feeling shame. It is who we are as a species. While shame can be debilitating, it is a reminder. A reminder not to repeat this mistake. A reminder not to hurt someone. Or a reminder to hurt someone even worse in the future if they really deserve it.

Shame is one of the best gifts life gives us, only surpassed by chocolate. It is hard to accept this fact as we’re wired to hate shame. But accepting that shame is a good thing is better than living a life fumbling through the darkness of shame.

What’s that? Oh, I’m partial to a Wispa. A Kinder Bueno is a close second. Probably then followed by the old classic, Dairy Milk. I’m glad we brought the Wispa back. They discontinued it in 2003. But it made a triumphant return in 2008. You see, this is what we can get behind in Britain. Brexit tore the country apart but a chocolate bar campaign brought us together. I’m also partial to a pack of milk chocolate buttons, but the big ones.

I got hooked on them when we used them as a substitute for communion wafers during my First Holy Communion. It’s not a healthy addiction. Especially when I asked the shopkeep to inject them into my veins.

When it comes to shame, there’s no better feeling. Because how else are we supposed to navigate through the pitfalls of this tricky little existence of ours? Still doesn’t give you carte blanche to cry after sex though, so remember that…

“Heaven knows we need never be ashamed of our tears, for they are rain upon the blinding dust of Earth, overlying our hard hearts. I was better after I had cried, than before – more sorry, more aware of my own gratitude, more gentle.”
– Charles Dickens (play bro).

Peace Out :|:

Post DCLXI: Do you think shame is a good thing, reader?