Some people like to take their feelings out and examine them. They turn them this way, and that way. Upside down and inside out. Throw them under a microscope. Hash, and rehash. To me, it just seems they keep the wounds open. Self punishment. Pain for the sake of pain. Stress becomes a lifestyle. I wonder what they gain?
I, on the other hand, prefer to keep my emotions tucked away in a box. Preferably, in a dark, secure, place. I do, on occasion dust a box off, have a peak inside, then place it back on the shelf. There are lessons in those boxes. Sometimes I need a reminder. And honestly, not all the emotions tucked tidily into those boxes are unhappy. But looking backwards, does not change the past. And it is really hard to drive forward while looking in the rear view mirror.
Every now and then, I get a little emotionally overwhelmed. Too much traffic, not enough storage space. My brain feels like an air traffic controller, with no control. I spin around and around, trying to maintain balance and composure. Lately, I have felt out of control, my emotional plate full. I have an appetizer of work; a salad of holidays; an entree of cancer; a cup of old dog and a dollop of graduation dessert. Work will, well, work itself out, I suppose. The holidays will come, and go. Whether I am ready, or not. The return of the lymphoma, is very much an unknown. A second opinion is on the horizon. I wish the old dog would go quietly into that good night, and not make me make that decision. Graduation, for my son, is a good thing. But even good things add stress. I'll eventually round them all up into a neat package and tuck them away. It isn't that I don't care. I just dislike being miserable...and uncontrolled. Being unhappy does not change the situation. I am strong enough to admit that I have next to no control. I do not feel the need to beat my head against the table. It would, maybe, rattle the plate, but, by no means, wash the dish.