Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Day

Stress, fear, sadness and confusion overwhelm me to the extent that I often cannot remember why I started feeling bad initially. Am I mad because someone upset me or am I upset because I'm mad? Sometimes I remember the details that I bottle inside while other times I'm just overwhelmed, and I cannot pin point the moment when it all began.

If I had a therapist, he would probably tell me that I should just spill it - to let it all pour from my mouth like the water rushing down the sides of the tub when you forget to turn off the faucet. And he would tell me that rushing water is okay - it almost always plays out to a larger body of calm water. But I don't have a therapist. And despite being one of the most loquacious of all humans; the more I think about it, the less I have to say.

One of my closest friends describes this as my intellectual drama. I believe "cliff-hangers" was the exact term. My decision [I get angry even thinking about it] not to talk when all I need to do IS talk. If only it were a decision...a blockage may be a better description. A hindrance, disability, or ineptitude. A flaw in my emotional competence. I appreciate the perception that I have control and can make those kinds of choices. Really, I do. I'm surprised that I seem so black and white...

There are others in my life who understand the need to shut down when all of the outside noises become a little more than you can process. When the pieces become so overwhelming that you can no longer see the puzzle. They get it. They put on their PJs and take a nap. Perhaps I just need a nap.

Will I be okay? Of course I will! Could I use a friend - absolutely! Would I spill my guts about all that's wrong with the world? I doubt it. Not even for a couple of beers. I am a fixer and a giver; I like to enjoy moments of happiness. I do not want to lurk in the shadows and corners. I've not yet mastered the art of rushing water.

Sometimes, all you need is a shoulder to cry on - even when you never tell what causes the tears.

It's hard to talk about things that are foreign to everyone around you. You cannot explain your own fears when you don't understand them yourself. Its hard to speak Japanese to a group of friends who only speak French.

So I ask what's more important when your friend is hurting - the emotion or the circumstances that elicit it's existence? Are you more affected by their wound or the bullet that pierced the skin? I think the emotional reaction is far more important and far more telling...

Your unlikely to extract the bullet, but you can probably bandage the wound.