A practice in allowing the feels to be real

Instead of writing yet another post where I shame myself for not writing (because while I do average an article per week at the newspaper, there is nary a piece of fiction or self-reflection to be found in those hundred column inches) and make a ton of excuses (new boyfriend whom I love and adore – yay! Second job that I loathe – nay!), I wanted to write about something that’s been on my mind quite a bit lately.

So let me start here –

As I’ve described in some detail my past-and-sometimes-present struggles with depression, it should be met with little surprise that I sometimes see a therapist. I saw her every week when I was first diagnosed with major depression – some 7 years ago – and see her now when the mood fits me. For the most part, I’ve been lucky enough to learn how to deal on my own — recognize my triggers, take care of myself, and talk it out when I need to. Consequently, I’ve been in remission for a few years now, with minor bouts that creep in here and there.

But I still utilize my therapist as a resource when I’m in a life situation that I need an objective perspective on — whether it’s a new person, event, job, trauma, milestone, etc.  It’s really kind of amazing to be able to talk to someone who knows one of the most important parts about you – your psyche, among other aspects – who’s still able to deliver an opinion or perspective that’s not marred by an kind of relationship with you. Friends, family, and significant others are an amazing part of a support system, but as long as they’re a part of you, they can never be completely objective.

Enter The Therapist. For my purposes, let’s call her TaylorSwift, for she is young, wise, and speaks to my heart. And because that absolutely wouldn’t be confusing at all in the slightest.

So I saw TaylorSwift on Friday (and see this is already confusing because I saw her namesake two weeks ago at a concert in Philly), for the first time since February, because I was strugglebussing with a couple of things. One of them is something that I’ve always been incredibly self-aware of, that I recognize in myself all the time, but that I still can’t break because of this and that and my obsessive internal monologue.

To put it simply, I’m terrible at allowing myself to feel my feelings — a crazy ironic notion when you think about the fact that one of my most [obnoxiously] uttered millennial phrases is “the feels are real.” Though if we’re gonna be big about it: #thefeelsarereal.

While I have been working on this for years, the issue thankfully doesn’t come up all that often, mostly because I’m much more comfortable allowing myself to embrace emotion in relationship to people I’m free to be myself around — best friends I’ve had for years, family, and the like.

The problem comes in when I meet someone new, whether that’s a new friendship or romantic relationship. In the beginning, I’m admittedly insecure about the other person’s feelings toward me, certain that they’re ready to bolt the minute I do or say something that they’re not fond of.

Also, to my dismay, I’m generally a highly-sensitive person. Not in the actual technical diagnosis of a “highly-sensitive person” – I have no symptoms related to sensory processing issues – but in the little-things-affect-me-in-a-huge-way highly-sensitive person. Because I recognize this in myself, my inner dialogue chases itself like a nauseating merry-go-round.

It reads something like this:

*Event -> emotion -> self-admonishment of ‘irrationality’ of emotion -> self-admonishment of self-admonishment -> repeat.

*Defined as actions or words that I reacted strongly to, usually from someone I haven’t known very long.

So yeah. If it sounds insane, that’s because it is. Basically, Person A acts in a way that upsets me, I feel irrational for being upset because I recognize I’m a highly-sensitive person who reacts to small things, and then I beat myself up for beating myself up because as I’ve learned from TaylorSwift, my feelings deserve to be validated.

When I saw TaylorSwift last week, I told her about an Event with a new someone in my life. The long and short of it: they broke plans with me and rescheduled to a different night. While this was the second time this had happened with the same person in about a week, internally I knew it wasn’t a big deal because:

A)   It wasn’t a habitual thing; and

B)    They actively care about me and are always enthusiastic about getting together.

Both logical and really crucial to the situation. But I let it ruin my night because my sometimes Type-A personality REALLY struggles when my idea for how the day is going to go falls apart. That, and I’d just plain old was looking forward to seeing them and super bummed that it fell through.

My reaction didn’t make sense to me because I knew the logic: they weren’t doing it to hurt me, it wasn’t a big deal, and I’d see them tomorrow, for Pete’s sake. So what gives?

I don’t have an answer for that part, actually. Other than my highly-sensitive personhood, that is. And TaylorSwift, as glorious as she is, didn’t bestow the answer upon me, either.

But she did offer me this:

You can’t control how you feel. You just can’t. You can try to change your thinking, persuade your thoughts and even move them in a direction you’d like them to go, but ultimately, the things that cause us pain now are more than likely going to cause us pain in the future.

But you always have control over how you react to what you feel.

In my earlier situation, I was upset with the person for changing plans. I was disappointed and annoyed, but it would’ve been completely unconstructive to put that onto them, to make them feel my annoyance when they weren’t asking for much. Just as it was okay for me to be upset, they were perfectly within their rights to want to change our plans. So while my gut instinct was to mope all night and be short with them — an instinct I did succumb to on a minimal level; what can I say, I’m a work in progress — the better response would’ve been, “Well, I’m kind of upset. I was looking forward to seeing you, but I’m gonna try to make the best of my free night.”

Honestly, in my case, I might not have completely meant it. If you’re anything like me, sometimes Irrational!Brain would have thoughts along the lines of “Well, if you don’t wanna see me today, then I don’t wanna see you tomorrow.”

Is that absolutely ridiculous? Yes, it is. 100 percent. Which is why even though I thought it and wanted to say it, I didn’t. And the next day? I was pretty much over it. Irrational!Brain was gone and I was completely happy to see them.

Feel free to shoot me a comment if you can relate on any level. Spirit animals can be hard to find.