Humbling humiliation
Don’t! Donnnnnn’t… Dammit! Like a little scared chihuahua, I tried to withhold my barking, but the need to protect myself took over, and I lashed out. Good for me! I made a fool of myself and had to apply my own advice to what I did: don’t judge, don’t make assumptions, confirm before concluding. Now that neurology has made it abundantly clear that we are emotional beings that on occasion think — wisely said one of the Nagoski sisters — I’m slowly learning how to live with this accurate understanding of human cognition.
No longer can I indulge in the comfort of my upbringing that believed we could win over emotion through the power of rationality. Using my seemingly logical deductions is no longer an excuse to cover up my overreactions. Unless I have clear confirmation from all parties of what’s going on, my feelings are not a reflection of reality. Who the hell am I to think I carry the truth more than another person? But isn’t writing a blog a little bit like that? Here’s a recipe to fix this, or how can you tell someone is that, or this is why the world isn’t right by my standards…
The problem with writing every day is that I’m starting to take my stories a little too seriously. I’m going to need to humble the f*** up. Speaking from my vulnerability is hard, especially if I’m hurt. I felt I was angry for the right reason a few days ago, only to find out today that it was once more an attempt to avoid my sadness. I had build hopes and was excited by the connection I had made, and the message I received made me feel judged and rejected. Instead of focussing on my interpretation — that the message intended to uphold judgemental moral high grounds or not —, I should have taken the time to introspect further.
My response will always and forever remain my choice. Nobody makes me feel or makes me do anything. It’s my perception of the circumstances that motivates my actions, and I can modify that perceived reality as long as I keep a flexible mind. If I let the emotions from my interpretation blind me, it is still my job to check in with myself and be honest about what I feel. Properly evaluating my situation requires that I let the agitation subside before responding. I need to exercise further giving myself space and time till clarity on my true emotions emerges.
Did it feel good to rent? Absolutely, but it was a short earned victory since actions motivated by the ego never generate lasting positive results. Now that I’ve poofed my feathers and showed off how strong and independent I can be, it’s time to get real and assess that I’m still dealing with the sorrow of my breakup. I’m scared that I will have to let go of the beautiful space I had created for myself since January. The idea of being confined in quarters with less daylight worries me that it may negatively impact my health. The wall of window and the open view my current apartment offers has provided me so much healing. Just being able to gaze as far as my eyes can see in the horizon, waking up to natural daylight and slowly reprograming my serotine and melatonin cycles are blessings.
Come to chose my studies and the quality of my living space, I chose school even if it means I’ll have to find new ways to cope health-wise. For now, I will practice not to respond with a knee-jerk reaction to my difficulties and take time to plan the steps ahead properly.
I want to say a special thank you to T for having had the courage to reply to me even after reading my criticizing blog post about who I thought he was. I stand corrected and healthily humbled.
