I felt so bad I...

When it comes to physical and emotional pain, we're quite clear on whether something hurts or not, and of course where it hurts. What we're not so clear on describing is how something hurts, or how much.

In other words, when we're trying to tell someone how bad we really feel, do they actually get it? Do they understand completely, this huge abstract and intangible thing we feel as pain? They can't see it, or touch it. Is their understanding of our pain limited by the language we use to express it?

According to Dr David Biro, author of The Language of Pain - Finding Words, Compassion and Relief, the answer is usually yes. Describing pain in more detail and more specifically to your doctor, for example, he says can make all the difference to your treatment, and can in some cases save your life.

"A good description of pain can be as important as a physical exam or an MRI scan in making the right diagnosis of an illness", (The Importance of Describing Pain to your GP, Dr David Biro, The Times, 31st August 2010).

"Saying your pain is a seven out of ten doesn’t convey very much," he says. "Rather, tell the doctor how pain affects your life — it’s so bad that it wakes me up at night - and what makes it better or worse - it helps to prop my leg on a pillow. A good story always registers more effectively than an abstract number."

"A good story always registers more effectively than an abstract number"

So what about our emotional pain? Does the same rule apply when trying to convey how another's words or actions might have hurt us, for example?

With that in mind, I adapted Dr David's methodology to my own coaching sessions, in particular with the idea of helping my clients create a breakthrough in communication whether in their personal or professional lives. In the case of William*, a rugby-playing, hard-edged Alpha Male, the results were so profound, they've changed his negotiating style for the better.

William was furious with his solicitors who had, he believed, acted completely negligently in the purchase of his new house, to the extent that the sale almost didn't go through. To William, this wasn't just any house, it was his dream home, a beautiful house in a rural setting he'd first set eyes on some eight months' earlier. After months of negotiating, the house was almost his, until his solicitor got involved and started causing problems.

"It was clear he was too busy to read through the information he was being sent through by the vendor's solicitors. He wasn't passing on questions I had about the house, I had to rewrite letters he was sending to the other side, and on the day we were about to exchange, he went on holiday. The first I knew about it was the "out of office" notice I received when I sent him an email".

Says William, "I completely lost it at that point. I got angrier than I have ever been in my life. I could feel my blood pressure rising and I felt absolutely sick with stress and dread".

William came to me wanting some coaching ahead of a phone call he wanted to make to his solicitor to go over the handling of the conveyancing and also to negotiate the fees down.

As we discussed how he wanted the negotiations to go, I was aware that William was using very vague and emotionless words to describe his feelings. He said things like, "The service was completely unacceptable" and, "The handling of this was incredibly unprofessional". The words may sound very adult and sensible but they did little to convey the desperation William had actually been feeling at the time. The words were a barrier rather than a conduit.

I suggested instead that he be absolutely truthful and give a very colourful description of how his solicitor's actions had made him feel including the consequences of those feelings, along the lines of "Your handling of this case was so shockingly poor I became so stressed to the point that I was physically ill".

William thought about it for a moment. Talking about feelings wasn't usually part of his professional everyday vocabulary. But after a while I could see he was getting quite enthusiastic about the idea.  He said he would give it a go.

I didn't have to wait long to find out how it went. A day later, William bounded up to me with a twinkle in his eye. "You know that advice you gave me, about describing to my solicitor how ill I had felt over his handling of the house sale?  Well it absolutely worked. Thank you."

According to William, the conversation had started very stilted, with both sides acting defensively to the point where no progress was being made.  "But when I said how ill the whole situation had made me, the conversation changed. We started talking on the same level. I think by being so open and honest, it brought down some barriers.  Everything changed from that point on".

William was able to negotiate the fees down, the lawyer apologised, the conversation ended on a mutually agreeable note.

Being specific about how things affect us - not just "this upset me" or "I was bothered by"... but saying "I was so annoyed I went home in a mood, and had an argument with my husband and my whole evening was ruined" or "She provoked me so much I literally broke down sobbing" - can be incredibly transformative. It may sound weak to describe your feelings in this way, but by doing so you paint a picture of colour and depth to the other person in a way they can't help identify and, hopefully, empathise with.

 

In other words:

1. Be specific - say exactly what's bothering you and why.

2. Be descriptive - describe how something has affected you on a personal level.
3. Describe the consequences of how something has made you feel: "I was so upset by your comment I didn't sleep all night", for example, rather than "I was really upset".

Best wishes,

Dawn

Dr David Biro teaches at SUNY Downstate, an academic medical centre in New York. The Language of Pain: Finding Words, Compassion, and Relief by David Biro is published by W. W.Norton, 18.99

http://www.davidbiro.com/