[A companion piece to Plight of the Introvert 2 (PotI 2)]
I have always had a tendency to bottle my emotions. I am quite sensitive, so many things can move me to tears, but stress and overwhelming difficulties tend to get shut out rather than processed or dealt with properly.
My natural tendency with darker emotions is to ignore them; if I don't let myself feel them, then I don't really have those feelings, right? How can you feel something you don't let yourself feel? The obvious answer is that you can't.
Growing up, I had a misconstrued perspective of being a Christian that suggested a good Christian has no problems, has everything together, has all the answers. So what was I to do when I felt depressed or had some strong negative feelings? Push them down, ignore them, of course!
Everything would build and build until I had a breakdown, crying uncontrollably and feeling miserable and not even knowing why. My bottle could only hold so much, and when I couldn't take it anymore, I would burst. But with everything that caused the pain in the past, it was harder to deal with, and generally almost impossible to identify.
I have since learned how ridiculous this is, especially as a Christian. I now see it for what it is; it's like stepping on a nail, and instead of removing it, you put a bandaid over it. It may stop the immediate bleeding, the immediate problem, but it is going to get infected and be far worse than it ever was to begin with. It is going to haunt you later on.
This was a significant struggle until only a couple years ago. I figured out how to deal with this the majority of the time, and that was by talking to Terra about stuff when it first arose, and going in depth with her whenever I was able.
Then our relationship ended. A couple months passed, and suddenly I found myself overwhelmed and not knowing why. I was about to break. I suddenly realized that I had been bottling and wasn't even aware of it; my solution to bottling was no longer a part of my life, so I returned to old habits without realizing I was doing so.
As I mentioned in PotI 2, there are only a few people with whom I am truly able to be vulnerable. Fortunately, in this instance I was able to take a trip with a trusted friend to the beach and clear my head, let everything out, and empty my bottle. I honestly don't know how I would have proceeded without her, if I could have done so in a healthy manner. Talking with her let me let it go, but most importantly, it reminded me I didn't have to do it alone. I am grateful to have a friend with whom I can be vulnerable and who will endure my disjointed blubbering.
Still, that inner circle isn't always available (as if they actually had their own lives or something), and I often am not aware I am bottling. It is something I will probably have to deal with the rest of my life to one degree or another. Just because I am unafraid to cry openly does not mean I wear my heart on my sleeve; in fact, I (inadvertently) hide far more than I show. I often struggle with making myself talk; that day I went to the beach, I had something I needed to get out and it took me over half an hour to finally say, and I don't even know why (I had already talked about more personal things).
I am trying to figure out how to deal with this in a healthy manner, particularly in the context of being single. Some things I have tried haven't worked. Some are helping. It'll probably be a while before I have a good idea of what really works for me, but for now, just being aware of it has helped tremendously. Having people that love me and with whom I can be vulnerable doesn't hurt much either.
No comments:
Post a Comment