I'm having a problem with my dysfunctional coping mechanism a.k.a. my box is broken.
For those of you who live in a complete state of health and serenity, I'll explain. Once upon a time, not that long ago, I lived in Practical Land. This land was a place where if there was a problem, I fixed it (there may have been other inhabitants but I never met any). I got kudos for being level-headed, smart, a good do-er. I was the go-to girl in a crisis.
But, alas, there was a foe. Occasionally pesky emotions would creep in, threatening all stability. How was I supposed to solve a problem if I was stuck feeling about it? And, of course, while not all emotions were bad, they were inconvenient and sometimes downright yucky.
Thus, the box. The box lived waaaay down somewhere in me and that's where all the emotions went after a brief acknowledgement. Oops, feeling sad, put sad in box, back in control again. I even got so good at it that I could put the emotions in there without even thinking about it.
But, so I've since learned, apparently emotions are meant to be felt and when you put one in the box, you put them all in. So, suddenly, out of nowhere, I was depressed. Life was grey--no good, no bad. So I started some counseling (probably trying to figure out how to control which emotions got shoved away) and then my life fell apart. Yup, crisises (multiple) of epic proportions. And, dang it if I couldn't put all those things into the box! I had no control. I got to shake hands with all the emotions and look them in the eye for the first time. In case you were wondering, it sucked. But I lived.
So, fast forward 7 years and I don't live in Practical Land anymore. I am less of a control-freak, less of a nag, less anxious, a nicer wife. I have a pretty good balance of practical and emotion. I can feel my feelings...most of the time. But the other day...
The other day I was sad. Really. Really. Sad. I was going to bed sad with no resolution so I decided, "This is a job for the box." I'd cried and now I was ready for sleep. Open the box, put the sadness in there, close lid, go to sleep. Nice. I even tied the bow on it that I was sure it was just a pregnancy thing and I'd be fine in the morning.
At 5:30 in the morning, THE STUPID LID CAME OFF! Just busted right off and here I was, sad and tired. So unfair. Really, what is the point of having an unhealthy coping mechanism if you can't pull it out once in a while?!? So, I cried more stupid tears, and felt my stupid sadness and sat with it (stupid, stupid, stupid). And now, two days later, I feel a little better. I'm sure this is healthier, but it is so much harder on the short term. Yeah, yeah I'm happier in the long run. Whatever.
Anyone have the number for a good box repair man?
p.s. There may be some of you going "What was so bad about Practical Land? That sounded really nice." I will be happy to hug you without condemnation when your life too falls apart. :D